Chapter 212
## Chapter 212
A pale hand, its veins clearly marked, pushed his chest in desperation.
Varkas gathered her wrists into one of his hands and, with the other, pressed her head against his own shoulder.
How much time passed while they remained in that state? Her body, which moments before had been as tense as the string of a bow about to break, gradually began to relax.
Feeling absolute exhaustion, he laid the woman, who was still breathing with difficulty, on her side upon the bed, and then felt her forehead with the back of his hand. Fortunately, she showed no signs of suffering from a fever.
As he let out a subtle sigh, the woman raised her damp eyelashes and pierced him with a sharp gaze:
“I hate you.”
Varkas showed no reaction.
The woman lowered her eyes in extreme fatigue and murmured in a faint voice that was almost inaudible:
“And I…… hate myself even more.”
The rest season had deepened completely.
A frigid wind blew over the training ground, which had frozen into the white tone of the snow that fell throughout the night.
Paying no attention to that piercing cold, Lucas wore only a thin shirt while executing movements with his wooden sword; suddenly, he stopped his pace and looked toward the firmament.
The grayish clouds covered the sun, giving the impression that snow would fall again. While he contemplated the sky with dull pupils, he heard an easygoing voice from a nearby position:
“Do you really not remember absolutely anything about how you were injured?”
Turning around, he discovered Baridon sitting on the fence of the combat field, twirling a dagger between his fingers.
Lucas let out a sigh tinged with annoyance:
“I have repeated to you on numerous occasions that I do not remember.”
“But you perfectly remember everything about me, about Lady Lina, and about the others, don’t you?” the man replied, tilting his head.
Lucas, who had been striking the training straw dummy with his wooden weapon, stopped his movements and looked back:
“Are you trying to suggest that I am faking right now?!”
“Who said that? I just…… cannot fully understand it.”
“And I don’t understand it either,” Lucas murmured with a tone of frustration while throwing a severe look at Baridon. “It’s as if someone had rummaged through my head at their whim. I recall isolated fragments, but…… they break off suddenly as if something were getting in the way. Especially……”
He wanted to add that most of his memories about the wolf that presumably attacked him, as well as about the owner of that beast, were hazy like smoke, but he closed his mouth. For some reason, he experienced a deep reluctance to verbalize that.
He touched the scar located on the nape of his neck and diverted his gaze toward the wooded path on the fringes of the training ground.
According to the testimonies of the soldiers, he had been attacked in that place by the Dire Wolf raised by the Grand Duke’s wife. And that woman had fled in the company of the wolf, leaving him at the mercy of death.
He ignored the reason why he felt an oppression in his chest every time he weighed that reality. All he managed to recall about that woman was the fragmented fact that their relationship was highly hostile.
He vaguely remembered the outbreak of large-scale altercations immediately after Varkas’s return to the East, but the woman’s features remained blurry, as if she were behind a veil.
For what reason had his memories about that woman in particular vanished completely? While Lucas posed the question to himself, a sharp pain suddenly pierced his temple, causing him to bring a hand to his head.
An instinctive feeling of revulsion ran through the entirety of his body. For some reason, he sensed that he should not evoke anything concerning that woman.
“Are you alright?” asked Baridon, who ran toward him quickly upon noticing that his face had turned pale.
Lucas made a gesture with his hand, indicating it was nothing:
“It’s just a temporary dizziness, don’t exaggerate your reaction.”
“Is your relapse not due to overexerting yourself unnecessarily? The high priest ordered you to rest for a while.”
“I have spent more than a month confined to bed. Is that not enough rest?” Lucas replied with annoyance. “If your concern is so great, stop bothering me and go attend to your duties. Does your body even have the capacity to finish my functions as well?”
“I came to ascertain when you would be able to rejoin the work. But contemplating your state, everything indicates that I must wait for a longer period.” Baridon let out a sigh while tucking the dagger into his belt.
Lucas let out a biting laugh:
“So, were you interrogating me in that manner just to confirm if I was claiming a false illness?”
“Weighing the workload you used to handle, Lord Lucas, I harbor the reasonable suspicion that you are acting to prolong the rest…….”
Baridon interrupted his speech suddenly. From the top of the castle wall, the echo of a horn resonated, announcing the arrival of important visitors.
Lucas turned and looked toward the castle gate.
With the din of horses’ hooves striking the stone path, five or six riders mounted on colossal warhorses entered the training ground in orderly rows.
As soon as Lucas recognized the insignia of the knights of Roim embroidered on their surcoats, he lowered his wooden sword immediately and headed toward the gate.
“To what is their presence here due?”
When he posed the question aloud, the man leading the entourage turned. His face was familiar to him.
Was his name Edrick Robon? He was the man who frequented Raidgo Castle operating as an imperial emissary. He dismounted from his horse and presented a greeting with solemnity:
“We present our apologies for showing up without prior notice. We have come to convey a message from His Majesty the Emperor.”
“A message from His Majesty?”
Noticing Lucas’s gaze laden with suspicion, the man nodded his head with a serious face:
“A popular insurrection has broken out in the northern region. There are fears that the situation will spread as the suppression is delayed, so His Majesty has ordered the lords of all territories to send immediate reinforcements.”
An intense commotion broke out among the soldiers. The Emperor’s emissary exclaimed, looking around him as if making a public announcement:
“The East is no exception! The house of the dukes of Sherkan must execute the disposition of His Majesty the Emperor immediately and join the suppression!”
—
The Duke presented himself in the council hall an hour after the emergency assembly was convened.
As soon as Varkas, who crossed the precinct exhibiting his usual impeccable appearance, sat in the seat of honor, silence took over the room that moments before buzzed in an uproar.
Since the controversial incident of the extermination of the Dire Wolf, the Duke had remained secluded in the annex pavilion, attending to the entirety of public affairs through written correspondence.
This was the first occasion on which he appeared at an official act in nearly a month. Consequently, the gazes of the vassals harbored deep suspicion. They showed signs of anxiety at the possibility that the Duke might disobey the Emperor’s disposition.
“Let a mobilization order be issued in the southeastern region immediately. I will deploy 4,000 additional knights to the North,” the Duke spoke finally, after examining the Emperor’s letter with scrutiny.
One of the imperial emissaries, sitting at the end of the long table, stood up and objected, saying:
“His Majesty ordered the deployment of 10,000 additional soldiers!”
“The house of the dukes of Sherkan has already sent 8,000 knights to the North. Under the current instability of security in the East, it is not possible for us to dispense with 10,000 more men.”
“But the East has more than 50,000……!”
“If we deploy 4,000 additional soldiers, that means we will have destined practically a quarter of our total force to the North,” the Duke interrupted the emissary’s words with firmness. “This request is excessive. If you do not wish to break the loyalty of the inhabitants of the East as well, advise His Majesty to be satisfied with the four thousand.”
At his words, which carried a veiled warning, the faces of the other emissaries tensed, with the exception of Edrick Robon. However, the Duke did not care. He stood up firmly, indicating that he would admit no further objections.
Noticing this, Edrick Robon spoke hurriedly:
“What do we reply to the categorical disposition to appoint Your Lordship as the general commander of the forces of the imperial coalition?”
Varkas’s grayish-blue pupils settled upon him for an instant. Then, his response emerged dry:
“Tell him that I accept the disposition with gratitude.”
Upon concluding those words, the Duke abandoned the meeting room once more.
Only then did the uproar spread again in the room, where a suffocating tension had reigned.
While the dispute engaged among the vassals over the issue of recruitment of the 4,000 additional soldiers, the Emperor’s emissaries began to rise from their seats one after another.
Baridon, who had been observing the situation in silence from the end of the table, stood up to escort them to their residential quarters. It would have been possible to delegate the matter to the servants, but he did not wish for it to be alleged that the Emperor’s envoys were treated with negligence. He approached the imperial guard and spoke with courtesy:
“This way, please. I will guide you to your rooms.”
“I thank you,” Edrick Robon replied with solemnity.
Baridon led them out of the room. At that instant, a low voice came from the corridor connected to the main keep:
“You, accompany me outside for a moment. I want to speak with you.”
Baridon turned and opened his eyes wide upon discovering the Duke leaning his back against a column in the corridor. Edrick Robon asked, pointing to himself with the tip of his finger:
“Are you referring to me, my lord?”
“Yes,” replied the Duke, emerging from the gloom with his usual tone of indifference. “I have a particular request that I would wish to pose to you.”
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