Hanne
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Chapter 21 The Lady in Black
🕑 Added 2023-03-23 14:02:06 +0000 UTCThe feast hosted by the baronet of Toruna was delightful. Lansius would’ve never thought that the baronet was a natural party maker. Sir Stan even hand-fed morsels from his own plate to the troubadour, danced with them, and poured ale for his subordinates.
Lansius felt privileged to witness these supposedly private moments between a lord and his closest retinues.
The harvest season brought an abundance of grains and vegetables, sparing Lansius from the dreaded menu, such as roast hedgehog, brain jelly, or viper soup. He was always anxious about being expected to eat something or potentially offending someone.
Fortunately, Sir Stan had an uncanny, relaxed attitude toward the men beneath his station. He didn’t even try to make small talk, but motioned for Lansius to dig in and enjoy the merriment. This put Lansius at ease.
As with any other lowborn, Lansius wisely feared the noblemen, as offending them could result in flogging or a trip to the dungeon. Thus, seeing how a noble behaved so relaxed was a revelation.
Despite the ongoing confusion about the nature of the summon, and the issues with the lady in black, Lansius found his appetite. He was yet to learn about why he was here, but food was food. After living as a farmer for two years, he was too grateful for any opportunity to eat good food.
And he ate with a clear conscience. After all, food was in abundance around harvest, so this wasn’t a privilege of the rich. Lansius ate well and enjoyed the feast.
The meal was the best he ever had, with no salted meat in sight, meaning it was freshly cut. He could taste ginger, pepper, and possibly clove, which were a rarity.
Surprisingly, Sir Stan mostly ate brown bread and vegetable stew with only a few slices of meat. For dessert, they had a sweet pudding made from milk, egg, and day-old bread, topped with cinnamon and honey.
The music ended with a round of applause from everyone, including Lansius. The troubadour bowed elegantly while Sir Stan walked away after his last cup of water. A cool breeze entered the chamber as if signaling the end of the feast.
Lansius felt this was his only chance. He dared to approach the baronet and asked, “My good Sir, I thank you for the hospitality, but I still don’t know what is to become of me?”
Sir Stan paused, unexpectedly reached for Lansius’ shoulder, and patted him firmly. “For better or for worse, you have caught the eye of a powerful man. My advice to you… play to his tune.”
“But Sir, I am Sir Archie’s squire.” Lansius couldn’t reveal his master’s true identity.
“Oh, the Arvenian Lord,” Sir Stan mused, which shocked Lansius. However, he ultimately refused to give counsel. “Well, that’s hardly my problem, but I’m sure someone will sort it out. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
With a vigorous stride, the baronet left, leaving Lansius to wonder about his fate.
The old steward called out to Lansius, “Maester squire, I believe you have a place to visit.” He then motioned his hand toward a tall guard and said, “He will escort you there.”
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Lansius was surprised by the interior of the manor. Instead of a gloomy castle, the corridor was fresh and lively, with bright lanterns on the sides or hung above the staircase. The white plastered walls reflected the light, creating a welcoming ambiance even on the darkest of nights.
Led by the guard, Lansius arrived at the parlour, a place reserved for private receptions and discussions. The guard knocked on the door, and a maid appeared, carrying a tray of plates covered with a linen cloth. She wordlessly left the room.
“Come in and close the door,” a voice beckoned from within.
Now, without anyone’s interference, something about her voice stirred a vague sense of familiarity within him. Yet Lansius couldn’t quite place it, and there was little he could do but walk in as instructed.
Upon observing a lady elegantly clad in a black gothic gown, he gently closed the door behind him, isolating himself with her and leaving the guard stationed outside.
Just as the door closed, she raised a finger to her lips and beckoned him closer with her other hand.
Something didn’t feel right, but Lansius cautiously followed her instructions. He had only taken a few steps when the woman suddenly lunged at him.
“What are you—” he tried to raise his hand, but she tackled him, knocking him off balance.
He would have fallen backward if she hadn’t caught him and pulled him close.
Lansius gasped in surprise, but she quickly covered his mouth with her hand.
“Be quiet and listen,” she whispered, scared that Lansius could alert the guard. Slowly and gently, she lowered him to the floor.
The well-lit room was completely silent. Without saying anything, she removed the black veil that covered her entire head. Unlike the usual coif or headscarf, hers was more akin to a wedding veil, thus revealing her face for the first time.
Lansius saw a face pale with an unnatural whiteness from makeup. Yet there were two piercing brown eyes that were fierce enough to make children cry and wet their pants. He recognized her immediately and tried to speak, but her hand muffled his voice.
“You,” she looked at him in contempt. “Why are you even here? Are you Midlandia’s agent?”
Lansius couldn’t think straight and just stared at her as if burning her face into his mind. He breathed in her long-forgotten scent. Meanwhile, suspicion drove the lady to disarm him, taking his dagger and knife.
She then pressed the flat side of the dagger to his face. Lansius broke out in a cold sweat, looking at it in terror.
“Don’t make a noise,” she warned. Having been confined within this manor for so long, she was starved for information from the outside world. The last thing she needed was for him to raise an alarm that would bring the guards running.
Lansius nodded, and the woman took her hand away from his mouth.
“Now, why are you here?” she asked as Lansius took deep breaths through his mouth.
“Stefi... you’re Stefi,” he stated adamantly.
She exhaled deeply. “I am Audrey of Toruna.”
To emphasize her point, she pressed the flat side of the dagger slightly harder against his face.
Lansius did his best to nod, feeling the cold steel against his cheek. “I-I was invited here. Is this necessary?”
“Invited? By the baronet?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Yes, I have the letter in my bag.”
“What does a baronet want with you? Who are you working for now?” her voice full of suspicion.
Lansius hesitated before speaking in an even softer whisper, “Now, I’m Lord Arte’s squire.”
“The young Lord, did he escape Riverstead?”
Lansius nodded. “Just barely. We rescued him from the slavers’ den.”
Audrey let out a sigh of relief. She had been troubled when Lansius, who was merely a small Arvenian clerk, suddenly appeared in a baronet’s manor in the heartland of Midlandia. Suspicion had gotten her and she resorted to her training, thinking to capture Lansius and interrogate him. However, Lansius’ story collided with her views and that confused her.
Lansius continued, “I was there looking for you. I’ve searched everywhere.”
She withdrew the dagger from his face. Now, her expression was a blend of hesitation and guilt, mirroring her inner conflict. Although she had been treated like an honored guest in Toruna, in reality, she was nothing more than a prisoner.
The only explanation offered for her situation was that Lord Stan had saved her on a whim - something she found hard to believe. The circumstances had perplexed her, but she played along, acutely aware that resisting would gain her nothing but trouble.
For a moment, they just sat there in silence. Lansius’s head rested in Audrey’s lap while she looked down at him, her face full of regret.
Instead of apologizing, she suddenly declared, “I’ll get you out of here.”
“Stef- Audrey!” he objected. “Escape, but why? Am I in danger?”
But she didn’t listen. She got up, dagger in hand, and headed for the door, leaving Lansius scrambling to his feet.
Knowing her too well, he rushed after her. Disregarding the dagger, he lunged at her, trying to stop her from doing anything reckless.
He caught her. Audrey recoiled but stayed on her feet. She looked at him and struggled to break free, but Lansius held on tightly.
“Don’t do anything reckless. Explain to me what’s going on, damn it!”
“Let go, Lans! This is for your own good.”
“Fuck that! I’ll die for you. Just stop and fill me in.”
Lansius’ outburst seemed to have an effect. Audrey stopped wrestling against him. Taking a deep breath, she tried to answer, “You’re probably here because a Midlandian nobleman wants to use you.”
“Lord Stan wanted me?”
“No, he’s just another pawn. It’s Lord Bengrieve...”
The name sent shivers down Lansius’ spine. “Why does he need me? For what?”
She clicked her tongue. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Could it be related to Sabina Rustica?” Lansius ventured.
“Sabina what?” Surprisingly, she was oblivious to Lansius’ triumph. “I’m not familiar with Midlandia. I hope that’s not a brothel.”
“No, no, well... sort of,” Lansius admitted awkwardly.
Her side glance was enough to make Lansius blink several times. “Is it just me, or has it grown stronger?”
“The veil does also help with that,” she hinted cryptically.
“So, you have no idea why this powerful man wants me? I doubt he’s interested in a lowly clerk or squire like myself?”
Audrey bit her lip. “I really don’t, but perhaps it has to do with your background?”
“Background?”
She glanced at his hair and Lansius instinctively realized she meant his black hair, the mark of a foreigner.
A foreigner, huh? Indeed, having a foreigner can be useful if one needs a scapegoat, especially one with clear, undeniable proof.
Lansius let out a long sigh. His black hair continued to become a blessing and a curse in one. Despite his newfound worries, he felt a burden had been lifted from his chest. “At least I found you,” he voiced. “That’s what matters most.”
She pouted and looked away, a response Lansius was all too familiar with. “It’s really you, but why did you change your name?”
“How long are you going to hold me like this?” she finally demanded, disregarding his question. She was too angry at herself to be captured into slavery. In this world, the stigma attached to slavery was so strong that anyone would change their name once they regained their freedom.
Her reaction pushed Lansius to realize that he hadn’t endured Amertume forest and the battles of Sabina Rustica just to be spineless. From their first journey together, he had been captivated by Stefi. He was never one to be choosy about women, but Stefi was unique. She was independent and spirited, much like the women of the modern world, rather than those typical of their time. Self-reliant and bold, she navigated life with easy confidence.
Acting on his feelings, Lansius gently spun her to face him, held her face tenderly, and leaned in for a kiss. At least, that was the intention. Instead, he was met with a firm punch to the gut.
Oof!
“The hell are you doing?” she snapped.
“Proving my love for you,” Lansius wheezed, doubled over in pain.
She blinked, taken aback by his declaration. “You realize what you’re trying to say?”
Lansius straightened his back despite the pain. “I’m Lord Arte’s Squire de Camp. Am I not good enough for you?”
A blush bloomed on her cheeks as she met his determined gaze. “Why would you want me?” she muttered, her words intended more for herself than for him.
With Lansius rejecting her offer to escape, she withdrew, moving back to her seat across the room. “We have so little time. Any moment now, the maid will knock and they’ll escort me back to my chamber.”
“What’s happened to you?” Lansius asked as he dragged a chair to sit opposite her. “That fine black gown and everybody referring to you as a lady. Even the baronet called you a sister... Did you marry someone?” He couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy and embarrassment that clouded his thoughts.
Audrey stared at him, disbelief written across her face. “Are you serious? Why would anyone desire a female squire with no land or titles to her name?”
“Just answer me.” Lansius refused to back down.
She shook her head, at a loss for words. “I don’t know,” she admitted bitterly. “I don’t know why they saved me or what they plan to do with me, or you.”
Lansius drew a deep breath, trying to figure out whether the Midlandian noble was an ally or a potential threat.
“We’re mere pawns in their grand game,” Audrey murmured with a grim acceptance.
“Let them try,” he retorted. “One way or another, I’ll find a way for both of us.”
Her gaze held a glimmer of admiration, yet she voiced a cautionary note, “Remember how I was drenched earlier?”
His eyes widened with sudden comprehension. “Magic?”
She nodded. “One of his retainers must be... Sir Stan is Lord Bengrieve’s most trusted henchman. Having a magus under him is not that far-fetched.”
The close brush with magic thrilled Lansius, but another more pressing issue was on his mind. “What about us?” he ventured.
“Us...?” Audrey echoed, a gentle chiding in her tone. She turned her gaze away, murmuring under her breath, “I’m just a sword maiden, Lans.”
He prepared to contest her words but she held up a hand. “The hurried hare falls prey to the waiting hound,” she recited.
“...What does that mean?” Lansius questioned, puzzled by her sudden adage.
“It’s what my master used to remind me,” she began, her voice dipped in nostalgia, “Haste leads to unpreparedness and danger.” She took a deep breath, meeting his gaze, “We need to focus on surviving now. Once we’re safe, we can talk about ‘us.’”
Understanding dawned on Lansius and he nodded, appreciating the pragmatism behind her words. “Promise?” he sought assurance, offering his hand.
Audrey took his hand, her grip firm and steadfast. “My oath to you remains. No matter the circumstances, I’ll protect you.”
Outside, the gentle whisper of the wind caressed the night, offering deceptive tranquility in this idyllic, rustic corner of the world.
While Toruna and Midlandia experienced a bountiful harvest, the rest of the Imperium faced a growing threat of famine. With the ongoing nomadic incursion in the west, the growing beastmen activities to the south, and how the northern provinces had gone rogue; the Imperium was facing its bleakest year since inception.
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Comments
Hanne
Ok this is unprecedented. for older chapter like 21, the version here is outdated, you might want to check the Royal Road https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/45331/horizon-of-war-the-realistic-isekai-chronicles/chapter/1160225/chapter-21-the-lady-in-black
mytus123
"Is it just me, or has it growing stronger" - I'm pretty sure we want here either: 'growing' => 'grown' or "has it growing" => 'is it growing'
