A Fitting Proxy

Enri did his best to keep his voice from shaking.

“W-why… why would you th-think, think a thing like that?”

He failed miserably at it.

Kalada threw her head back and laughed, sharp as a hawk narrowing its eyes on its prey.

“So it’s true. It’s a woman. It was a woman all along.”

“It’s not a woman, it’s the last wish, how many times do I have to say it?! His niece is seven years old and honestly she’s adorable. But the only ones around that little girl are a pack of jackals out to swindle her. That’s why the late Duke, His Grace, asked our Captain to keep watch over her.”

“Is he getting married?”

“Excuse me.”

“Is she pretty? Prettier than me?”

“…”

Kalada shrugged, as though his answer no longer mattered. She sank deep into her chair and set to rolling a cigarette, unhurried.

“It isn’t as though the Black Hawk is some dinky little village watch.”

“…”

“And he’s its captain, Enri. That it’s no post a man can walk away from with a single ‘I resign’ — you know it, and that boy knows it. Everyone who follows him knows it.”

“But there are circumstances that can’t be helped—”

“Oh, I’m sure there are — circumstances. Am I the sort who can’t understand a thing like that? This Kalada?”

“Then what is the problem…?”

Kalada licked the edge of the rolling paper, set the finished cigarette between her lips, and struck a match. A vermilion flame flared up with a whoosh, carrying its own distinctive smell.

“He’s got no manners.”

“…”

“The nerve, serving notice to the great Kalada herself and calling the matter done?”

Fond as she was of the boy, this was out of the question. She had not raised Keith to be a man with no notion of manners.

“Tell him to come and report in person.”

“The Captain would want to, I’m sure. But leaving his post just now isn’t so easy. The investiture isn’t far off. So please, if you’d be so good as to understand…”

“If gracing us with his presence is too much trouble, then send someone who can at least shut me up.”

Enri swallowed a sigh.

She no longer worked the field these days, but there had been a time when they called Kalada the Reaper in these parts. She was the one who had raised the twenty-year-old greenhorn who came storming out of his household seven years ago. So, in a manner of speaking… Kalada was Keith’s master. And the master had raised a disciple who surpassed her.

The one man who could shut Kalada up.

Comb the North for such a man as though hunting rats, and sure enough you would turn up someone besides Keith. But one thing was certain.

And that someone is definitely not me!

Keith gave a dry word of praise to Enri, who had come back having dealt with several errands in short order. Enri was a needler at the best of times, but the moment there was work to be done, no one was quicker on his feet. If he reported that things “hadn’t gone well,” that meant they would not have gone well no matter who had gone. So rather than take his capable subordinate to task, Keith decided to let the man rest.

“Well done. Go and get some rest.”

“Uh… that’s it?”

Keith, his nose buried in the paperwork, lifted his head. The silver rims of his glasses glinted like jewels.

“I’ll give the Kalada matter a little more thought.”

“That’s not — I mean, at least a little pat on the bottom for all my troubles—”

“Out.”

“Aye.”

Still, Keith’s blunt, artless persecution was preferable to Kalada’s interrogation, which coiled in on a man like a snake.

Enri snickered, then bobbed his head in a bow to Pai, who was standing nearby. When she mimed a little pat-pat in the air, he flashed her a thumbs-up and slipped out of the study.

“…”

A peaceful silence settled over the room. Only the occasional rustle of a turning sheet of parchment tickled the ear. Pai made a show of studying the bookshelves a while longer before pulling a book down at random. Opening it to the middle and running a fingertip idly along the lines, she spoke.

“What will you do?”

“Who’s to say.”

Keith answered as though he had been waiting for the question.

Pai raised her eyes over the top of the book. Keith was pressing his temple, a look of deep worry on his face.

“I know a thing or two about Guild Master Kalada myself.”

“Yes…”

Keith showed no surprise at that; Kalada was hardly a figure known only in the North. He pressed his thumb in slow circles against his temple and let out a sigh.

“I knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with it. But since there was business over that way regardless, I sent him to handle both at once, and…”

“So what was bound to happen was bound to happen?”

“Yes…”

Keith’s voice had no strength in it. His words drooped at the ends like wilted weeds.

This must put him in a bind. He can’t very well leave the castle right now.

Pai knew Kalada, too. She had only glimpsed her once in the previous life, but with the warriors she had met in the Demon War she shared a bond thicker than blood. They had fought back to back; it was only natural.

Pai snapped shut the book she had been only half-reading and leaned at an angle against the bookcase.

“I’ll go.”

“Sorry?”

“To Kalada. I’ll go, I mean.”

“It’s kind of you to offer, but… I’ll likely have to go and settle it myself. There’s no help for it. The moment the investiture is over, I’ll just have to find the time somehow.”

“As it happens, I’ve business that way myself. I had to go at least once regardless, so I’ll drop in. I’ll just give it another poke, that’s all. After all, I’m…”

Pai drew a deep breath and added,

“Your lover, too. Officially.”

“Officially.”

“Mm. Officially. A fairly fitting proxy, wouldn’t you say?”

Now Keith shifted the hand from his temple to prop up his chin.

The mercenary company that had been the Black Hawk’s forerunner had originally belonged to Kalada. When Keith turned twenty-four, she stepped down as its head and moved to the northern branch, and the vacancy she left behind was the one Keith stepped into.

Kalada was fond of him. Keith knew perfectly well that it was precisely because she prized him so dearly that she wanted him to come and finish the matter himself.

If he were to tell her he had found someone he loved… Kalada would surely put Pai to the test. She might be a touch mischievous about it, but there would be no ill intent behind it, since it would all be for his sake. And in the end, she would come to be fond of Pai as well.

She’s a good person, and Kalada has a good eye for people.

Keith made his decision.

“All right. …Only, if she starts to turn rough, contact me at once.”

“Oh? Confident that your silver tongue will work on her, are you, Lord Keith?”

“It’s less that, and more… that she has a particular soft spot for me.”

“Does Guild Master Kalada happen to harbor some tender feeling for you, Lord Keith?”

At that, Keith recoiled and flatly denied it.

“Absolutely not! It’s only that she frets over a hopeless disciple — the way one hands a crying child an extra piece of bread.”

“I was only teasing.”

“…Ahem. When can you set out?”

“I can be ready right away. As for luggage — whatever I need I can just buy once I’m there, no? I’m the Regent Duke’s lover now, aren’t I?!”

She drew a salary equal to the sum written into her employment contract, but in practical terms the figure was meaningless, since the monthly allowance for keeping up appearances came to far more. Woo-hoo!

“I’ll be back before the investiture. Oh — I’ll tell the young lady separately.”

“Yes. I’ll take it as settled, then. Only, there’s no need to push yourself and rush.”

“No. I’m definitely going to see the investiture.”

The funeral had been such fun; how much more of a racket might the investiture kick up? Life was dreary enough as it was, and Pai had not the slightest intention of missing a show with its entertainment guaranteed.

Keith, who knew nothing of such irreverent thoughts, seemed to take it that Pai was being considerate of him, and the tips of his ears flushed faintly.

“I’d feel all the more secure, too, with you at my side.”

“…”

“And Ardine as well.”

Pai gazed at the young man, who spoke so softly, almost in a whisper. She wanted to tell him not to worry, because she had every confidence she could ‘shut Kalada up’ for him.

Leather trousers made for moving in; a loose, roomy shirt.

Pai fastened a leather belt at her waist and stowed a dagger in it. Down on one knee, she cinched her bootlaces tight, let her hair fall loose, and pulled on a fur cap that framed her face, snug and businesslike.

Loosening up with a light shake, she raised her head to a sky hanging over her, milky and clouded white. Perhaps fine grains of ice were already drifting down, for all she knew.

“Okay. That’s the preparations done.”

Bulging pockets: check.

Pai had fetched the sturdiest beast from the stable and was on the very point of swinging herself up into the saddle.

“Ari’s all set too!”

The peanut-sized young lady, armed head to toe in shaggy fur, swung her short arms back and forth.

“Oh — right.”