A Date.

A date.

He let out a small laugh.

“Wondering if I’m a bit slow in the head?”

“…No, not at all. …But—”

《Volmo!》

“Ah, if you’ll excuse me.”

Unable to finish his sentence, Volmo vanished in the direction the castle lord was calling from. The preparations for setting out in pursuit with the villagers were complete.

And so the latter half of his sentence was finished only inside Volmo’s head.

’…But — when she was face-to-face with Flower, it looked to me as though she was holding back a genuine fear.’

The pursuit looked easy enough. There was a time lag, true, but their side were specialists of the snowfield. For villagers who knew the terrain, tracking the hoofprints of outsiders was no great difficulty.

《This way!》

The pursuit party was eight in number.

Aspara, knowing she would only be a hindrance, had remained at the village, but six of its young folk had been willing to ride out with the castle lord.

One among them was the innkeeper’s eldest daughter, said to be the village’s finest bear hunter, and she rode at the very head of the party, leading the way.

《From here on the snow gets deep, so slow your pace!》

《They may have split into several groups and fled. Everyone check carefully for any footprints that break off from the main trail!》

The young folk of this small hunting village were capable indeed. And yet Gus, by instinct, felt that something was wrong.

《The path is narrowing.》

《Yes — if we keep on this way, it opens onto a valley. They’ll have tried to cross the river and slip away. But crossing a river is hardly enough to shake off our pursuit!》

The innkeeper’s daughter laughed heartily.

《The valley…》

The castle lord’s brow furrowed.

The valley. The word had an unpleasant ring to it.

The path narrowing, the high ground that hemmed the valley in on either side, the piled snow growing deeper by the stride…

It was perfect ground for setting a trap. If this had been a ‘real battle,’ Gus would never have ridden in that direction.

But the castle lord did not properly grasp the gravity of the current situation, nor the importance of the thing the man had fled with.

Surely, in so short a time, they wouldn’t go so far as to—

At that moment, something flashed from atop the slopes embracing the valley.

《Looks like something’s up there.》

《That’s…》

The glint of metal.

A spur. Someone in spurred boots stood in the upper reaches where the snow lay heaped thick.

《Halt the horses!》

Gus’s shout thundered out, and as if in answer to it, the ground began to rumble.

No: the rumbling came from somewhere higher still.

《Damn them, those lunatics!》

The source of the sound was boulders. Great boulders rolling down the hillsides of the valley.

Along with the roar that struck their ears, clumps of snow came pouring down the valley’s steep slopes, and the ground shuddered beneath their feet.

《There’s distance enough! Don’t panic — turn your horses about. Don’t break formation; there’s distance enough!》

Fortunately, the boulders didn’t seem to have been aimed at the northern party. Most likely, not knowing how closely the pursuit had caught up, the men had meant them as a way to erase their own footprints and block the path.

But an avalanche was by no means a threat to be dismissed.

The boulders themselves were not so very large, yet the vibration they set rolling down the hillside swallowed up the snow of the valley.

《Damn it! Whoa, whoa, easy now, Eolluk. Easy!》

Two or three of the horses, seized by instinctive terror, broke formation.

The air rang like thunder and sent out a momentary gust of wind; fine ice particles rode the gust and came flying, stinging the cheek.

《Don’t force your horses to move — calm them! You are not soldiers, you are my citizens. Getting back alive comes before the pursuit!》

The castle lord rode up to the owner of one bucking horse and steadied the young one who had nearly been thrown.

《Th-thank you!》

《Damn it all…》

The thunder that pounded their ears and the angry whinnying of the horses gradually died down. Five minutes that felt like hours passed, and the tremor in the air subsided completely.

But the valley pass remained blocked with snow. The eight northerners could only catch their breath and gaze at it blankly.

The innkeeper’s eldest daughter, who had led the party, spoke.

《This is… I’m sorry. My guidance wasn’t enough.》

《It isn’t your fault.》

《But…》

《It isn’t your fault. I was the leader of this venture.》

Gus fixed the woman with a fearsome glare.

《Or were you thinking it was you leading me?》

《That — no, my lord.》

He gave a small sigh and looked round the party to see if anyone was hurt.

《Any injured?》

《No one seriously!》

《No one here either.》

《My horse over here is a bit spooked. It’ll take time to calm him, so the rest of you, please return ahead of us.》

As the castle lord nodded, the party began, one by one, to turn their feet back toward the village.

Only Volmo, a last lingering regret in his eyes, gazed at the snow-sealed valley pass.

‘If only the castle lord hadn’t delayed for that woman…’

Blood beaded and trickled down the cheek grazed by shards of ice.

‘If he hadn’t, we’d have had no trouble chasing those fellows down…’

Aspara had seated herself at the village entrance to await the return of the pursuit party.

Along with her stood several family members of the young people who had ridden out with the castle lord.

“…”

《…》

‘They’re really staring.’

The woman from the south tried her best to ignore the villagers’ gaze and kept her eyes on the edge of the snowfield. But the friendly country folk seemed to be itching to strike up a conversation with the lady from the capital.

《— – ——?》

“I’m afraid — I don’t speak the northern tongue.”

《— – — —— ——…》

《——, – —!》

A woman who looked to be the mother of the leader of the pursuit chattered away with her neighbor, then handed something over. It was bread and dried fruit.

Only then did Aspara realize she was hungry.

“This is…”

《——. — ——.》

“…You want me to eat this?”

《— —!》

The older woman laughed, boldly but kindly, and clapped her on the back.

Don’t you worry, she was saying, and Aspara could tell.

“Thank y— no, 《thank you.》”

《— —!》

Aspara tore the hard loaf in half to share with the young child sitting beside her. At that very moment, one of the men called out loudly.

《—! —!》

Every pair of eyes turned in the direction the man was pointing. Far off across the snowfield, a great cloud of snow-dust was billowing up.

Soon a faint wind blew whoosh through the village.

《—, —!》

The people began shouting the same word, one after another. Avalanche — avalanche —!

That one word, even southerners knew well. The word itself had been coined in the north to begin with, and had spread south from there.

Avalanche.

An avalanche.

“What is it? Snow— 《avalanche》?”

《Avalanche!》

In that instant Aspara felt the blood in her head run cold. The hot blood that had filled her head seemed to plummet all at once below her throat.

The fallen drops seemed to have gathered, every one, in her heart, for her chest began to pound at an unbelievable rate. Thud, thud, thud. As if to make up for the blood that had dropped away, her heart was climbing up her throat.

“Avalanche…”

The avalanche had risen in the direction the pursuit party had gone. Could it be that they had been caught in it?

Because of Flower? Because of Flower. No: the reason Flower had come here, the reason the pursuit party had chased after them, lay with Aspara herself.

‘Because of me?’

She soon shook her head. No: Flower being a madman was not her responsibility. No: there was not even a responsibility to bear in the first place. And it was not yet even confirmed that the pursuit party had been hurt.

It might even be an avalanche the pursuit party had set off themselves, in order to catch their quarry.

By instinct Aspara folded her hands together and clasped them tightly.

But the content of her prayer was not a wish that everyone be safe.

‘It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault…’

《— ——!》

The villagers looked up, startled. Aspara, too, followed their gaze. Sure enough, across the horizon, the party that had ridden off was coming back.

“Thank goodness…”

Judging by the number of horses, it seemed they had failed to catch Flower’s men, but for the moment that hardly mattered. What was more important was—

“The number of horses…”

Those waiting counted the approaching horses.

One, two, three, four, five, six…

Seven.

Eight horses had set out. Why were only seven returning?

Aspara felt the heart that had been climbing up her throat drop, this time, with a jolt.

《— ——!》

“Gus!”

Once they had drawn close enough that the snow-flurry raised by the horses could be felt, Aspara could delay no longer and bolted forward.

“Gus… Ah!”

The castle lord was there. A touch ill-tempered in expression, but to all appearances unharmed.

“Thank goodness.”

At the words that had escaped her without her meaning them to, she gave a start and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Thank goodness, indeed. One of the villagers had not come back, and she was saying thank goodness.

《– ——?》

《— ——! — ——!》

One of the villagers threaded her way among the horses, calling out a woman’s name. The family, it seemed, of the one who had not returned.

“Lady Aspara!”

“Volmo! You’re safe too.”

Volmo was also unharmed. A freshly-scabbed welt clung to his cheek, but as injuries went for a man who had escaped from the end of that roar, it looked fairly light.