In Carrying Out The Will Of God

Ever since the labyrinths came into being and linked this world to the demon realm, humankind has been at war with demons without cease.

Parunia, the ruling power of the continent, was no exception. Under the principle that great power carries great responsibility, it staked the fate of the Empire and took the lead at the front.

It was the paladins who distinguished themselves in that war. Needless to say, once the fighting ended the temple’s power swelled until it looked down its nose at the throne itself.

But that once-mighty clerical authority shrank by the day as the peaceful years wore on. Quite apart from that standing, the Inquisitors alone came to hold a peculiar position, and for that they had the Emperor to thank. The Inquisitors sifted demons out meticulously and showed no mercy to a soul, whoever the offender; the Emperor, for his part, turned a blind eye even when they carried on, in certain matters, as though they stood above the law of the Empire.

“First, I pray for the repose of the late Elrod Paragon. By God’s keeping he will surely be passing eternity beneath the divine left wing.”

“…”

“I, Kashen Altad, Commander of the Paladin Order and an Inquisitor, have come to the White Castle at the Archbishop’s order. It is my hope that the Regent Duke Keith Paragon will receive the Archbishop’s decree.”

A decree is the Archbishop’s official written order, and so it is never sent by message magic.

Kashen had read the words out without so much as a change of expression. He held out a scroll wrapped in red silk with both hands, and Bishe took it and passed it on. Keith accepted it with bad grace and unrolled it.

“…”

As official orders from exalted persons usually are, the Archbishop’s actual business lay buried under every sort of flowery phrase. Boiled down, it came to no more than a line or two.

…the movements of demon worshippers of late being far from ordinary, they shall be rooted out by thorough investigation and visited with severe punishment…

…and that Paragon of the North likewise cooperate with the Great Temple’s will in this and provide every possible accommodation…

“Provide every possible accommodation…”

Keith murmured it low and let a sneer escape. He might have expected the uninvited guest’s visit, but that made it no more welcome. The tenacity and the cruelty of the Inquisitors in particular were notorious enough that saying so twice would be a waste of breath. Better in every way to set the stage for them to rampage across and cut the investigation short.

“The Archbishop’s will is well understood.”

Keith folded the scroll in half and all but tossed it onto the silver tray Bishe was holding. Kashen’s brows pinched a fraction at a show of propriety that only just held, and only on the surface.

“The investigation does not look likely to be a short one. Where do you plan to stay in the meantime?”

“It is our hope that the White Castle will make provision for us.”

The answer came back at once, without a second’s thought. Which was to say they had settled it that way before ever setting out.

“Our wish to welcome you is sincere, but the White Castle is in no position to take on this many people.”

The meaning being that they could fold away any thought of being waited on.

“Yes. We are well aware, having heard it often enough, of the White Castle’s frugality.”

Meaning: he’d come knowing your castle is a dump.

Kashen jerked his chin at the three knights standing in formation directly behind him.

“Rooms enough for four knights, myself included, and four squires will be sufficient. The rest need nothing but ground to camp on and sky above it.”

At any rate, he had declared his intention to eat and sleep here come what may.

There was no reason to drag out a nutritionless war of nerves. Keith drew his chin in without any sharp response.

“Do so.”

The White Castle staff, with guests on their hands, felt as though a fire had been lit under their feet. Granted, there is no such thing as a funeral anyone can foresee, but all the same, they had just come through a month of losing the master of the castle with no warning whatsoever and receiving the mourners. After that, the preparations for the Victory Festival had kept them too busy to draw breath.

“And just when I thought we could finally catch our breath. Oh, honestly.”

Anna looked at the laundry already heaped up like a mountain and let out a sigh deep enough to cave the ground in.

“May they but refrain from carrying on like nightmare guests, we humbly pray.”

“And may they eat no more than a mouse-dropping’s worth, we pray, we pray.”

“Mind your tongues.”

Bishe rebuked the giggling maids.

“Bear in mind that you are the face of Paragon, and that behind those men stands the Archbishop. You are not to give them one single thing to find fault with.”

“Yes, yes, Lady Bishe.”

“…What I mean is, think of it as giving one extra sweet to the ones you hate.”

“Heh.”

The words ‘the ones you hate’, coming out of Bishe’s mouth, set the thoroughly cowed maids snickering, little by little, with the sound smothered. Bishe patted Anna’s shoulder as though in encouragement, then turned and left the laundry room.

Anna set the washing to soak in warm water, laid out a tray of refreshments and headed for the Third Drill Ground. Lady Ardine and the mage would be at their lesson at this hour. But the drill ground was crowded with soldiers making ready to camp, raising a great racket.

“That’s strange… They said everyone but the knights would be using the Second Drill Ground and the land outside it.”

The word must have been passed on wrong. If the place of the lesson had changed, Pai would have told her beforehand, so Anna could think nothing else. She crossed the path at a scurry to put the situation right.

“Um, excuse me.”

The twenty-odd soldiers did not so much as glance at her and went on joking among themselves. Anna cleared her throat and called out again.

“Excuse me! This is the Third Drill Ground!”

“…”

The whole company fell silent in an instant. Like a flock of migrating birds banking together, the swarthy men turned their heads as one and looked at Anna.

“Eeep…”

Anna was shaking, but she gripped the tray hard and explained to them, clearly and distinctly.

“Whoever showed you the way seems to have mixed up the drill grounds. I’m sorry for the trouble, but I’ll take you to the Second Drill Ground myself.”

“…”

“Or if that isn’t it, have you perhaps moved the campsite here? Because in that case I think I ought to let the others know as well.”

“…”

“If you’ve heard me, could you say something…”

“What’s that thing saying?”

A gravelly voice shot out of nowhere, and Anna’s face went stiff. One of the soldiers made a great show of dusting off his hands and rose from his crouch, then strode up to her, folded his arms in front of her and cocked his weight onto one leg.

Only then did Anna register that the drill ground stood a little apart from the main castle, and that she was surrounded by burly men. Fear came over her all at once.

When her jaw began to shake and clack, the soldier let a snicker escape.

“And how are we meant to cram ourselves into a dinky little patch like that and sleep?”

“I-if it was inconvenient, why didn’t you ask first? This right now is un-unauthorized occupation.”

“Unauthorized occupaaation? Hoh.”

The soldier raised his voice, and jeering broke out among the men who took his side.

“There is no place the will of God does not reach. And we are the ones who carry out that will. Which is to say there is no place forbidden to us while we are carrying out our mission.”

“What kind of twisted logic is that!”

“Exactly. Is God the name of somebody’s dog? To be slapped onto anything you please.”¹

Anna was biting her lip when a warm, solid arm wound around the small of her back. She knew the voice, and relief brought her close to tears. Pai whispered low against her ear.

“That was frightening, wasn’t it. It’s all right now.”

“Wh-where have you been until now! And the mage?”

Facing down men like these called desperately for force, and Anna looked wildly around for it. Pai shook her head.

“Today they’re having the lesson in the forest. It was about time Anna came with the refreshments, so I came over on my own for a moment.”

Pai glared straight at the soldier in front of her and spoke.

“But what have we here — a pack of ruffians carrying out an un.au.thor.ized. oc.cu.pa.tion. of our precious drill ground?”

“Ruffians, is it! Insolence! Hooow dare you — do you even know who we…”

“Well now, soldiers sold off out of some pious, moneyed domain somewhere, I’d guess?”

“H-how do you know that!”

Pai’s account was exact.

The Paladin Order of the Great Temple of Urafel came to twenty knighted men in all, the Inquisitor included. Every other year they hold a tournament and replace the knights whose skill has fallen behind. Which means the full complement is always kept at twenty.

Then who are these soldiers Kashen has brought along with him?

They are private soldiers sent over by the houses that patronize the temple whenever a mission comes up. A surprising number of lords lend theirs out for nothing at all, to prove their own piety.

An ordinary person would find it hard to know the inner workings in such detail.

“Bastards who amount to nothing at all, peddling God’s name and carrying on like punks.”

An ordinary person, that is.