by Kumo Kagyu
The female merchant went on in complete seriousness, seemingly oblivious to the exchange. “…I do, sire. I thought perhaps the training centers could be entrusted with clearing rats or roaches out of the sewers.”
Such quests would technically be issued to the adventurers by the cities or by the nation itself—in other words, they would fall under activities funded by taxes. The money would only nominally be going to the training centers, but would in practice be used to pay the adventurers.
“…It would be an introduction to actual combat, Majesty. What you might call a tutorial.”
The king’s eyes widened slightly: On the merchant’s lips was something resembling a triumphant smile. Like ripples on a pond caused by a passing breeze, it would be easy to miss if one were not paying attention. The expression made her look younger than her age; it struck him as quite cute.
“Do you think we should have them slay goblins as well?” At the minister’s heedless words, the smile disappeared as abruptly as if a stone had been cast into a pond. Doubtless he had no ill intent. The smiling minister was nodding to himself, as if to congratulate himself on what a good idea this was. “That would address the archbishop’s concern as well—”
He interrupted himself at a glare from Sword Maiden’s unseeing eyes. He looked to the merchant for help, but she gave him an equally icy stare.
“…Er, well, it was…merely a suggestion,” he finished lamely, thoroughly cowed.
The king bit back a smile as he said, “Very well,” and waved his hand. “That’s not bad, but it would be best if we could limit the work to the sewers. Proceed with your plan.”
“…Thank you very much, Your Majesty,” the woman said, bowing deeply.
That was when footsteps could be heard pounding from outside the council chamber, along with shouts of Halt! The door came bursting open.
“What is the meaning of this? We are in council!”
“Terrible, t-terrible news, Your Majesty! I apologize with all my heart, I truly—!”
The king recognized the person his security forces were currently tackling. An attendant to his younger sister, he thought. His sister seemed to truly like the woman; they were like siblings themselves.
Now, though, the attendant’s face was completely pale—and she had a man with her. He looked ghastly, as battered as if he had just come from the field of combat.
“Majesty, your— Your honored younger sister—!”
The news that the first princess had been kidnapped by goblins was enough to make the king stand up from his throne.
§
It was dawn when the girl had appeared before him; he had been loading cargo onto his cart.
“Um, excuuuse me…,” she had called in a sweet, nasal voice.
He turned to see what she needed, and there she was: A priestess of the Earth Mother in ill-fitting vestments with a sounding staff in her hand. Her eyes were bloodshot—whether because she had just woken up or because she hadn’t slept at all, he couldn’t tell—and she blinked at him as he stared at her. He could see bits of straw stuck in the hair that peeked out from under her cap. It brought a smile to the merchant’s face.
A novice adventurer, maybe?
“Yes? What can I do for you, my little adventurer?”
“I’d like to get just out of town. Could I ask you for a ride?” Then she mentioned the name of a younger female cousin of the merchant. A fine young woman who served in the palace. If she was a friend of his cousin’s, very well then. The merchant nodded.
“Okay. But I’m going to the North. You don’t think you’ll be a little cold?”
“I’ll be all right, thank you. North is just the direction I wanted to go.”
The girl laughed out loud and helped herself to a seat among the cargo. She was energetic, but her movements seemed somehow ambivalent, in a way that made him worry for her.
She squeezed in between some bags then appeared to remember something. “Oh, this is to thank you.”
She offered the merchant a small ruby. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Counterfeit currency was rife these days; there were many who shaved down the edges of their coins to “economize.” Gemstones were certainly more trustworthy, but…
Is she really a novice?
That was the moment he had his first doubt.
It certainly didn’t seem like a form of payment one would expect from a disciple of the Earth Mother, all of whom vowed to be moderate, frugal, and poor.
But he could stand there wondering all day, or he could get going. The merchant finished loading his cargo then set his wagon rumbling off along the wheel ruts.
Needles of dawn pierced the milky mists of early morning, but the capital never slept.
There were some tavern dwellers who had been out drinking until first light, stumbling along the street, and a slave carrying a water bucket at a quick pace.
Servants, awake before their masters, were opening windows, letting in the morning air. Cookfires accounted for some of the smoke rising from the many houses. But offerings to this god and that explained others.
They passed a shop just getting ready to open for the day, and soon they had arrived at the north gate.
Outside town were a number of fields for competition and combat, and banners had been put up indicating what the day’s events would be. A line of people stood looking at them, possibly waiting to be permitted past the guardhouse. There was quite a crowd; it must have been gathering since well before the hour at which the gate would be opened.
“Well, well, it’s busy today,” the merchant said, putting a hand above his eyes and looking out at the line as he slowed his horse’s pace. “We’re in for a bit of a wait, my friendly adventurer.”
“Really?” The girl sounded dejected, and when he looked back, he saw she had her cheeks puffed out. “Hmm… I guess we have no choice, sigh.”
He smiled wanly at the pouting girl then waited for the line to start moving.
The area around the gate was full of adventurers and merchants, patrols and travelers, coming and going; it was, in fact, a bustling scene. Behind them was the skyline of the capital with its pips of chimney smoke and people starting their days.
The city was waking up. The merchant took a loving look at it, and then his turn came and he moved his cart up to the gate.
“Hullo, soldier. Good morning!”
“Mmf. We’ve got a lively one. Cargo and destination?”
“Woolen textiles, don’t you know. I’m heading over in the direction of the holy mount.”
“Huh,” said the soldier, whom the merchant seemed to know; he handed the man a passport even as he spoke.
It looked like the merchant went through this gate every day. Both of them knew how this went.
“Listen,” the soldier said. “Rumor has it a fiery rock came falling from the sky in that area. You be careful.”
“Thank you, I certainly will! Oh, that’s right,” the merchant said, pulling up the reins just before he drove away. “I’ve got myself a passenger today.”
“Oh?” the soldier remarked with a nasty smile. “Not getting into the slaving business, are you?” He sounded as if it was a joke.
The merchant shrugged, and the soldier peered at the girl riding among the cargo.
“Let me see your identification.”
“Yessir.” The girl fumbled at her collar until she produced the rank tag hanging around her neck.
“Steel rank, golden hair, blue eyes, fifteen… No, sixteen, I see. Priestess of the Earth Mother, this says. You an adventurer?”
“Yes, I am,” the girl said, puffing out her chest especially boldly. “I’m investigating the disturbance at the holy mount.”
The merchant couldn’t see the soldier’s expression under his helmet. The man simply said, “Yeah? Good luck with that” in a tired voice and gave the horse a gentle pat. “All right, you can go.”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
The merchant urged the horse
out onto the highway, following signs that led in the direction of the mountain. Maybe the rumors about the holy mount were true, for few travelers seemed to be going that way. For company on the road, they had only the blowing of the breeze, the clopping of the horse’s hooves, the clatter of the wheels, and the songs of the birds.
The sun was glittering just over the horizon in the east; the autumn air was cool and refreshing.
It would all be for naught if there had been a throng of travelers. The merchant took a deep breath, filling his lungs with that sweet air.
“Ahh, what a lovely day!”
“It certainly is. Being outside is wonderful.” The girl in back stretched like a cat and squinted her eyes. She appeared to be enjoying the feeling of the breeze herself, and the merchant smiled pleasantly.
“You sound less like an adventurer than a prisoner,” he said.
“There are many places where one can be a prisoner,” she whispered. “The jail, the temple…the castle.”
Very much so. The merchant nodded. His cousin had mentioned to him that the princess led a most constricted life.
“Well, nowhere is completely free of trials,” the merchant said.
“You think so?” the girl answered. “Myself, I don’t—”
That was when it happened.
The merchant thought he spotted movement from a nearby bush. “—agree,” the girl finished.
Just my imagination?
He reached instinctively for the hilt of the sword he kept far down by his hip as he took a quick look around. He had no intention of confronting any adversaries, of course. But even to run away, one needed a weapon.
“…? What’s wrong?”
“I thought something—”
—moved, he was about to say, but he was interrupted by the howl of a wolf. The merchant jerked on the reins.
“GORRBG!!”
“GRROB! GRROOBOR!!”
“—?! Goblins?!”
Wild dogs, or a pack of wolves alone, would have been better. But this was worse. Goblins, mounted on wolves and waving crude spears.
A horde of goblins—he was amazed to see them. Weren’t they supposed to be in the west?!
“Hrk! Get your head down!”
“Ee-eek?!”
Ignoring the girl’s cry, the merchant wheeled the horse about and whipped it on. The faithful animal whinnied once then took off running for the capital. They had no time to lose.
The goblins’ faces twisted into vicious smiles; they must have noticed the woman aboard.
“GGBBGRBBG!!”
“GBOOR! GBBGROB!”
They cackled, moving to surround the merchant and cut off his escape. A few clumsily thrown spears came past, flying over his head or lodging in the roadway. It would not matter to them, he was sure, if they hit the girl with an errant toss.
If they crit on us, we’re finished…!
The merchant drew his sword. The blade glittered in the morning sun. He had never used it in his life; now he grabbed it in an ice-pick grip.
“S-so you’re going to fight? Good, I’ll help!” The girl raised her sounding staff unsteadily.
Absolutely not. “Fight?” the merchant shouted. “We’re going to run!”
Holding fast to the reins, he climbed from the driver’s bench onto the horse’s back. The horse didn’t slow for an instant. A good animal.
“I’m going to cut the cargo loose! Come over here!”
“Abandon your cargo?! You can’t! We’ll fight!!”
“They’re just goblins!” she shouted, but the merchant was hardly listening.
The girl stood, trying to find her footing on the careering cart. One of the goblins took the moment to launch a spear at her, which lodged in the cargo. “Eep!” she exclaimed.
“We have to give up the wagon! This way!”
“…! All right… I understand!”
It was a pathetic sight: The girl turned tail and scrambled along the wagon, puffing and shouting. Her tail, as it were, was not lost on the goblins, who cackled and grinned, adding insult to injury.
The merchant looked back and saw the girl with tears in her eyes, her face red as she bit her lip.
But she came this far.
He stuck his sword in the buckles, held the reins in his mouth, and reached back to her with his left hand.
“Quickly, girl, to me!”
“R-right. I’m com— Ahh?!”
Then the wagon hit a rock.
It wasn’t a fumble, a matter of bad luck. It was just a highly difficult maneuver for a girl without much in the way of physical training.
She didn’t immediately understand what had happened; her hand was still outstretched, her mouth still open. It was almost funny how easily her small body was thrown off the unstable cart and into the air.
I’m falling.
She slammed into the earth butt-first with a heavy thump then rolled along the ground.
“Ahh, ugh, oww…!”
The merchant, looking back, hesitated for an instant, biting down on the reins in his mouth. He raised the sword then brought it down on the buckles.
One strike didn’t do it. Two blows, then three finally sliced through the leather fasteners, setting the horse free.
“GOOBRR!!”
“GROBOG!”
“Hyaaaahhh?!”
He could hear her scream.
The fact that the merchant looked back at all as the horse pounded onward was only because of his good heart. He saw the girl fallen in the mud, surrounded by dozens of goblin riders.
At length, one of the monsters jumped down, spear in hand, and advanced menacingly toward her. The girl swung the sounding staff in a wide circle, like a child with a stick.
“Wha?! Now you st— Wh— Who do you think I— Hrgh?!”
He saw the girl take a terrible blow to her face. He heard the dull sound, saw something red go flying. He knew her uncommon beauty was marred forever.
The goblin grabbed the girl’s hair when it burst out from under her hat and tried to press something to her cheek.
A hand…?
“GOOBOBOB!”
“GROB! GGBORBG!”
It was some kind of dried branch that looked like a hand.
The girl shook her head weakly, no, no, but they forced the thing against her face.
There was what seemed to be a flash of light from the claws of the hand, but the merchant had no time to watch further. He sent his horse dashing toward the capital at a full gallop.
How else could he possibly help her?
Was he to fight the goblins himself? Cut them down with his sword? And if he was dead, nobody would know the girl had been taken.
The merchant was not a brave man, and he was afraid of dying. But that was not the reason he’d run away. Still, when he reached the capital, he felt a twinge of regret that he had fled.
In fact, he regretted ever having let that girl onto his cart.
Because waiting for him there at the gate when he arrived was his cousin, her face completely drained of blood.
§
When he had heard all this, the king slumped onto his throne. He seemed to have aged many years in an instant.
One of his administrators spoke up urgently. “Your Majesty, help must be dispatched immed—”
“The king’s younger sister flees the castle, commits an act of thievery on a priestess, and is captured by goblins—and then the army is sent in?” The king’s response was practically derisive.
The administrator swallowed his words, comprehension of the situation dawning on him.
The king pressed his hand hard to his forehead, trying to hold back the headache and the fatigue. “Don’t tempt me into being the fool who levels the state military against goblins only when those he cares about are involved.”
Yes: they were just goblins.
This much would never change: Goblin slaying was and would always be a minor matter.
It was obvious enough, from the broad pers
pective. This might be important to him personally. But that was all.
Across the northern passes were hordes of beasts and barbarians, and the south was in chaos as well. Every nation around him was training a hawk’s eye on him, waiting for a chance to invade, a steady stream of spies coming and going across his borders; he couldn’t afford to let his guard down for an instant. Evil cults were on the rise, the most powerful merchants left no means fair or foul untried in the pursuit of profit, and the denizens of the capital’s shadows were many.
And in the midst of all this, mere goblins.
They were a small matter and always would be.
“…But, Your Majesty,” the cardinal said hesitantly.
“I know,” the king said with a wave of his hand. “But if even a word of such an ugly matter got out to the soldiery, the rumor would be in other lands in the blink of an eye. This is a matter of life and death for our nation.”
Reputation and renown did more to protect the country than half-baked walls ever would. The stronger people thought you were, the less likely you were to be attacked. And if you were not strong, then why, the people would ask, should they bother to pay their taxes?
“Not to mention, no noble house would want to take some goblin’s mistress for their bride, eh?” the captain of the royal guard said in a loud whisper. The archbishop—Sword Maiden—and the female merchant both gave him reproving glares. He didn’t seem to notice, though, a big grin spreading across his rugged face. “Me, though, I’m different. I wouldn’t mind.”
The king heaved a sigh. “…A trustworthy adventurer. That’s our only hope now.”
“Agreed,” said the dog-faced Gold-rank with a deep nod.
These were the moments he was here for. Moments of national import, when the military couldn’t be brought to bear, but a diligent operator was needed nonetheless.
After he returned the king’s nod, the Gold-ranked adventurer reached out his short arms to spread a map open on the table. “The problem is the enemy’s location,” he said, tapping the map with stubby fingers. “Where did you say you were attacked?”
“In the North. En route to the holy mount…” The merchant leaned on his hazy memories as he pointed at the map. “…Right around here, I think.”
The cardinal, the court mage, and the assembled researchers of the school looked at one another.