Chapter 14

“You must be exhausted by now, Miss Camilla – why not get some rest?”

Andrei’s voice drew Ludmila out from her thoughts. She looked over to where the Ranger appeared to have made himself comfortable. He had gone out to gather deadwood from the forest outside, and now a small campfire cast flickering shadows around the cavern.

“Do you patrol or stand sentry often, Andrei?”

“When I was younger, yeah,” his voice turned nostalgic. “I guess you’re at that age where you feel like you have the energy to do anything. It’s that sense of youthful invincibility that got me hired on as a retainer in the first place.”

Ludmila walked over to where Andrei was seated, leaving Nabe and the Elder Liches where they stood around the map on the cavern floor. She didn’t get too close, however: it was common for Undead to be weak against fire and igniting like a dried-up pine tree was not something she wanted to experience. The abundance of magical lighting in Warden’s Vale made open flames rare, so the notion hadn’t crossed her mind until she came to Völkchenheim County.

She knelt over the stones, opposite from where Andrei was lounging with an elbow on his bedroll.

“So your family wasn’t always in House Völkchenheim’s service?” Ludmila asked.

“Nah,” Andrei waved off the notion. “My family…we were something like drifters. I think my dad once mentioned that he came from one of the frontier territories that collapsed, but I can’t even remember the name of it anymore. He migrated inland and settled down, just like most of the people from out there.”

As the border lords faltered, some of their subjects would migrate to Warden’s Vale but the rest were unaccounted for. In hindsight, she supposed it only made sense that they moved inland after experiencing the slow and painful failure of the borderlands.

“I was always curious whether you have some of the same ancestry as me,” Ludmila said. “Andrei was a fairly common name amongst our subjects.”

“Could be,” Andrei nodded. “I didn’t grow up around my dad’s people, so I’ve no idea of the language and culture. All I have is my name and my father’s blood to speak for it.”

“So your father was a Ranger as well…did he become an Adventurer after he left the frontier?”

“That was me. My dad was just a Hunter. It was a pretty good living for him: since the southern territories were retaken by the wilderness, hunting out there wasn’t considered poaching. He’d go out for a week at a time, coming back to sell whatever he brought down. The man wasn’t the ambitious sort – he was just happy that he could provide for his family with his hard-earned skills.”

“I know the type,” Ludmila smiled warmly. “You said you became an Adventurer – does that have anything to do with you ending up in House Völkchenheim’s service?”

Andrei stretched out to pick up a branch from a nearby pile, adding it to the fire.

“That’s right,” Andrei nodded. “The previous Count hired me on as a guide for his coming-of-age ceremony. He was so impressed with some of the tales I shared with him that he offered me a position as one of his retainers after we were done.”

“What kind of ‘tales’?”

“The kind that a sense of youthful invincibility leads to, I guess,” he offered a self-deprecating smile. “The one that really got his attention was more like a misadventure. I bit off more than I could chew and ended up fighting in the wilderness for days.”

Similar experiences were not uncommon, so Ludmila could easily imagine what he meant. Sometimes people got separated from a patrol and showed up again much later, or one underestimated how bad of a situation they could get themselves in. Those that survived to tell their tale would spend more time hiding and eluding their opponents than killing them as they slowly worked their way back to safety.

“You told the old lord about that, I trust?”

“After I got a little bit older and wiser and learned to swallow my pride, I did,” Andrei said, “but it didn’t matter to him. The fact was that I pulled off what no one in his employ could even come close to accomplishing. He did love talking me up in front of people, though – maybe watching me squirm over that old story was his way of getting some payback.”

“What about your current liege?”

“Oh, he still thinks I killed a thousand monsters. I do have quite a number of assorted Demihumans, beasts and monsters under my belt, but the truth’s nothing like facing down a thousand monsters at once. What’s the harm, I figure – with the way things are now, we’ll never need to fight like that again.”

Ludmila wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. While it was certain that the civilian population of the Sorcerous Kingdom would be protected from all but the most catastrophic of threats, citizens who sought service in the military would most likely work in environments where they would have to be able to deal with opponents that were at least equivalent to the embellished version of Andrei’s tale.

“That should be true for the most part,” Ludmila said. “Anything that can get by the army is something most people won’t be able to deal with anyway. You’re pretty strong as far as house retainers go, though – did you accompany the old lord to Katze?”

“I didn’t,” Andrei shook his head. “The old Lord figured it’d be a waste of my abilities being mixed in with the levy. The way we parted was damn ominous, too. Neither of us wanted to leave our families, but the lord had his obligations. He asked me to take care of his son in case he didn’t come back.”

“I see why you’re so loyal to the count.”

“It’s a debt I can never repay,” Andrei swallowed. “Not only do I owe my position and marriage to the old lord, but he kept me out of that bloodbath. Because of that, my son still has a father. It’s the least I can do to take care of his.”

Andrei sniffed, wiping his eyes with a sleeve. Ludmila left him with his gratitude, returning to the circle of Elder Liches.

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There wasn’t any pressing need to stand there, as the next arson wasn’t expected for another day or two, but Ludmila had little to do. Their abrupt departure from Warden’s Vale had her leave any remaining paperwork at home. With her observations of Völkchenheim County still fresh in her mind, she thought it best to review how other nobles handled their territories.

Management of population centres like Crosston was of particular interest to her, as the harbour town in Warden’s Vale was on the rise. Ludmila had no experience administering larger, urban populations. Certain things, like infrastructure, could mostly be counted to work as designed. People, however, had wills and desires of their own.

The cultural norms of Re-Estize. The Faith of the Four. The ignorance and backwards thinking that came with being in a poorly developed and mostly-insular nation. Illiteracy, poverty and superstition were a part of everyday life.

She was once again forced to realize the advantages that came with starting from scratch, though she doubted that her old villagers would have been an obstacle. Larger populations had a certain inertia to them, and influencing modes of thought and cultural norms was a monumental challenge. Figuring out the way forward was just as difficult; Ludmila often felt that it was akin to the blind leading the blind.

“Miss Nabe.”

“Hm?”

“I have a question.”

The Adventurer looked up from the map, fixing Ludmila with her dark-eyed gaze.

“What is it?”

“Darkness has been visiting different parts of the duchy on a regular basis.” Ludmila asked, “How do the other territories compare to this one?”

“There are the ones we need to go to, and the ones that we don’t. Those that we visit are not much different from one another, but the worst is one of the ones by the city.”

That was unexpected. The lands of least concern tended to be those closest to centres of power.

“By E-Rantel? How bad is it?”

“An acquaintance of mine always says that the lord there is ‘ripe for a spanking’.”

“Ardoin or Hamel?”

“I don’t distinguish between one tick and the other.”

Ludmila wondered which of the two it was. Both were still young, and she had no idea how their territories were being managed. In a situation where a noble who had inherited was too young to rule, it was usually a relative that managed things on their behalf. At worst it would be members of the household staff that were familiar with their territory's workings. Clara was neighbours with Lord Hamel, but she had not spoken of him in months.

The two young Lords weren’t running things personally, were they? She had no idea what their personalities were like, as they were excused from participating in the House of Lords due to their age.

As evening fell, she returned to join Andrei at his campfire. Her subjects were used to her always being out and about, but the people of Völkchenheim County still very much lived in the mundane reality of Re-Estize. Even without her tireless nature, they might have seen her patterns of activity as suspicious or at least uncharacteristic of one of their own.

Andrei didn’t give her a chance to gauge her caution, however, as he nodded off shortly after. He appeared to be of an age with Ludmila’s father, though if she recalled correctly his son was just starting to learn how to walk. Given that he had been the old Lord Völkchenheim’s guide during his coming-of-age ceremony, it seemed that Andrei had married unusually late in life.

Ludmila was left to ponder how she would handle the passing of ages. The flow of time felt much the same to her as when she was still Human, and her seventeen years as a Human was still a lifetime to her. Yet, she would now see the end of Andrei’s lifetime, that of his son and all of his descendants, should their family line continue.

Would they one day come to her and ask what she knew of Andrei-the-slayer-of-a-thousand-monsters, or Andrei the fiercely loyal Knight of House Völkchenheim? Would her people and their families come to her for the same thing? As generations and centuries passed, would Ludmila still be able to remember the events of the distant past, or would it fade like Human memory did as time wore on?

Ilyshn’ish and the role that Lady Shalltear intended for her became ever more important in Ludmila’s estimation. With the flawless memory of a Frost Dragon, she and her fellows would indeed become living keepers of the past. Perhaps one day Ludmila would need to rely on her to awaken memories of aeons otherwise long forgotten.

She brooded in silence as the night passed, and the morning offered little in terms of excitement. The Elder Liches stood around the maps and Nabe kept to herself even as she kept an eye on Ludmila. Andrei couldn’t stand the boredom and moved in and out of the cave dozens of times as he tried to find ways to pass the time. After a while, Ludmila came out to join him.

“As old as I am,” Andrei’s voice greeted her, “it seems you possess far more patience.”

The Ranger was seated on a rock nearby, basking in a patch of sunlight.

“I have a lot to think about these days,” Ludmila replied. “Many things have changed, and I can see no end to it.”

“That sounds pretty double-edged.”

“I don’t disagree,” she said. “That’s why I have to constantly stay on top of things, as well as keep an eye on future horizons.”

“Good thing I’m not in a position where I have to worry too much about that,” Andrei stretched as he rose from his seat. “I’m sure Lord Völkchenheim won’t lead us astray. He’s a good man.”

All I have to do is serve him well, and he’ll take care of me and my family.

Voices from the past echoed in her mind. She had heard it so many times when people spoke of their relationship as subjects to her father. And they tried – they really did. Both her father and the villagers of Warden’s Vale. They were simple, honest and hardworking people who kept faith in the gods and with each other. Reciprocity, charity and respect for the dignity of life: good people led by a good man.

Good, it may have been, but it wasn’t enough. Like any sanctuary, strength was required to defend it against those who brought strength to bear. Not just physical strength, but economic might and strength of spirit and character. Without the cornerstones that made the foundations of civil society, anything built up could all too easily come crashing down.

The cornerstone of physical might in the Sorcerous Kingdom was a monopoly held by the Sorcerer King. Count Völkchenheim might be able to achieve everything else, but the sanctuary that he offered to his subjects would always be at the mercy of his liege.

“A good lord needs good vassals,” Ludmila said. “Not just men and women whose only defining quality is being good, but those who can truly serve in the capacity that their lord requires. In the same way, a good lord cannot rule solely out of good intentions: he must be the leader that his people need.”

“That’s some pretty heavy stuff coming out of someone that’s around the same age as the count,” Andrei raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I’m here simply by His Majesty’s whim, Andrei. I do not mean to say that County Völkchenheim must undergo a change in character, but the most effective way in which he can serve his people is by proving to the Royal Court that what he offers is of value to them. It is technically no different from how a noble of Re-Estize should behave in their service to the crown, but His Majesty has no balance of power that he must step lightly around.”

“I think my lord understands this, deep down,” Andrei said. “I’ll let him know what you said nonetheless. Anyway, you probably came out here to clear your head, so I’ll stop making you think too much about work.”

Ludmila reached into her Infinite Haversack, withdrawing her longbow. Andrei leaned to the side with a befuddled expression, as if looking for where the two-metre-long bowstave had been stashed away.

“Practice?” He asked as she strung the weapon.

“I find it relaxing,” Ludmila replied. “I was also hoping to learn a trick or two from an experienced Ranger.”