Chapter 180
## THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL) – Chapter 180
### Chapter 180
Varkas stepped out of the high priest’s residence and led his men directly toward the outside of the castle walls.
He crossed the low hills with gentle slopes, and upon ascending a ridge that rolled like waves, his eyes fell upon the large and small villages scattered around the fortress.
He began to inspect them one by one, starting with the largest; although the external appearance suggested absolute tranquility, it was impossible to know for certain what was happening beneath the surface.
It was customary for village chiefs and administrative officials to downplay the problems arising in their areas of influence when drafting reports, and security officers also tended to overlook infractions and minor offenses occurring within the settlements. Even if heretical ideas had begun to spread among the inhabitants of the territory, just as the high priest claimed, it was highly probable that they had remained hidden until now.
“Look for people who thoroughly know the ins and outs of the villages and gather information. Send trusted investigators separately to thoroughly investigate the reality regarding the pagans.”
“Do you believe the high priest’s words are true?” asked Berov, who was following him in silence, formulating his question with caution.
Varkas swept his eyes, deep in thought, over the wooden buildings lined up on both sides of the wide dirt road and the regularly distributed orchards in rectangular shapes.
He noticed how the peasants pulling weeds spied on him out of the corner of their eyes.
It was normal for commoners to fear their lord, but Varkas managed to glimpse a rigorous caution in their gazes that went beyond simple fear.
He felt a twinge in his temple due to the strange atmosphere enveloping the village, which made him furrow his brow.
“Perhaps his words suffer from a certain exaggeration. Nevertheless, given that the high priest himself mentioned it, it is clear that these are not simple rumors completely devoid of foundation.”
Even if it were nonsense uttered by a dotard old man, he had to pretend to go along with it.
The high priest of the East was an authority figure who administered a vast diocese, being one of the few high-ranking clergymen who could be counted on the fingers of one hand.
If that old man insisted on branding the Grand Duchess as heretical, it would not be easy for him to resolve the matter. And above all, there was the possibility that Garis would viciously cling to the accusations of apostasy against Talia to attack her. He had to settle this matter at all costs before it leaked to the outside.
“Send additional security officers to the various villages and announce that all congregations must obtain prior authorization,” Varkas added as he spurred his mount. “I intend to organize a purging campaign soon to widely search the surroundings of Kalmore. Send the edicts of convocation to the warrior riders.”
“At your command.”
After inspecting all the small settlements on the periphery, Varkas headed toward Rydego Castle.
He crossed the hills and extensive fields, and as he approached the fortress surrounded by sand-colored walls, the guard raised the iron gate immediately.
Varkas passed through the huge arched entrance, nimbly dismounted from his horse’s saddle, and directed his question to the soldiers lined up near the training area:
“Where is the Duchess?”
“Her Highness is resting in the garden,” replied one of the guards, his face tense and full of discipline.
He handed the reins to the servant who came to meet him, almost throwing them at him, and crossed the training area immediately.
As soon as he passed through the gate of the inner castle, the view of the garden thick with green bushes and flowers flooded his eyes. As he advanced with firm steps, he stopped upon glimpsing the back of Talia, who remained seated under the white marble parasol.
She was, as usual, accompanied by that huge wild beast.
The woman, who was whispering something to the gray beast crouching at her feet, turned around as if she had perceived someone’s arrival.
Varkas, who intended to question her about the veracity of what he had heard from the high priest’s mouth, suddenly felt the words get stuck in his throat; a smile that seemed to welcome him formed on her lips.
“Did the conversation go well?”
Varkas contemplated that face smiling spendidly and, in the end, swallowed his question regarding the suspicions of heresy. He did not want to utter those absurd misgivings and ruin her temperament unnecessarily.
“There will be no more sermons directed against you.”
“Was there no other conversation?” she asked as she stroked the wolf’s ear.
Varkas perceived a hint of inquiry in her cautious voice, so he narrowed his eyes. What was causing her anxiety? As he watched her suspiciously, he heard the sound of a growl near him. Varkas averted his gaze unconsciously and furrowed his brow upon seeing the appearance of the beast covered in flowers.
“That is not right,” Talia rebuked the wolf severely, and then added as she observed her husband’s reaction: “It seems his temperament soured because I left him alone all morning. He is just protesting, he has no intention of threatening.”
He did not utter a single word; he limited himself to contemplating the “giant wolf” in silence.
The wolf wore a crown of roses and cornflowers, and a collar of marigolds encircled his neck, exhibiting a clear feeling of humiliation in his blue eyes. She stated proudly while stroking the wolf’s neck, as if unaware of it:
“Isn’t he extremely cute?”
Varkas did not miss the slight tremor in the wolf’s ear. The wild beast, which never calmed down when beside its mistress, now appeared lowering its tail and folding its ears, identical to a pet experiencing absolute shame.
“Indeed,” Varkas nodded coldly as he observed the scene.
The wolf’s eyes gleamed as if he had understood his words, so Varkas added, feigning indifference:
“If he continues to roam around this way in the future, it is likely that the fear of the people around him will decrease a bit.”
“Isn’t that right? I intend to keep adorning him like this always.”
Unlike the wolf’s ears, which folded back even further, a smile of relief spread across her lips. She seemed to have been waiting for him while decking out the wild beast in that ridiculous way to show him off.
The instant he realized this, a complex mixture of emotions intertwined inside him. It gave the impression that she sincerely feared he would try to separate her from this monster by force.
Varkas experienced bitterness in his mouth, so he changed the subject:
“Before that, I would like to make a request to Your Highness.”
“What is it about?” she asked, the smile vanishing from her face.
Varkas delayed for a moment, weighing his words carefully before continuing:
“It is said that the barbarian tribes have begun to show activity in the surroundings of Kalmore. I would like you to refrain from going out until all the marauders have been eradicated.”
“…Until when?” the woman asked cautiously while looking at her wolf with blue eyes shaded by worry.
Her arms encircled the wolf’s neck involuntarily. He stared fixedly at her appearance, seeing how she almost buried herself in the body of the huge beast, and then opened his lips:
“It will not be prolonged for long.”
“It must not exceed two months. Khan gets anxious if he remains solely inside the castle.”
Whether that beast got anxious or not was something that did not concern him in the least; the paramount thing for him was her safety. However, instead of expressing that, Varkas manifested his agreement with submission:
“I will conclude the matter before that deadline.”
“…And after that, I will be able to roam freely anywhere with Khan, right?” she asked, looking directly at him.
Varkas hesitated for an instant and then nodded his head. It was then that a delicate smile formed on her lips.
“That is fine then,” she added in a low voice. “I will trust you.”
At that precise moment, he felt as if an edge of ice had brushed his chest.
*“From now on, I will never trust you again.”*
The echo of the words she uttered in another time, resembling a curse, resonated in his ears. He averted his gaze to one side as if trying to shake them off and swallowed hard with a constricted throat.
Despite the whirlwind battering his chest, his voice emerged astonishingly calm:
“The evening air is cold even in early summer. Let us go inside.”
“…My leg hurts, I cannot walk,” the woman pronounced suddenly, as if complaining, while clutching the edge of her dress and pursing her lips.
His face tensed with seriousness:
“I will call the healer immediately.”
When he was about to turn back toward the main palace, she pulled the edge of his clothes firmly. He turned back and met an angry look from her:
“I don’t want to wait. I want to lie down in bed right now, so you carry me and move me.”
Varkas contemplated her with a stiff body.
Now, it was impossible for him to interpret her intention in any other sense.
This woman was trying to seduce him at this very instant.
But why on earth? Had the vassals pressured her regarding the matter of the heir?
While constructing bothersome conjectures in his head, she pulled the edge of his clothes with a little more strength.
“Why? Do you not want to?”
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