HTWBB Chapter 2

Brynhildr's Necklace

"When is this damned rain going to stop."

Damp, chill air seeped through the gap of the opening door. The hard sound of rain battering the floor came pouring in.

A man who had come in with rainwater he hadn't quite managed to avoid grumbled and shook off his shoulders. The innkeeper, who had been mechanically wiping the floor, glanced at him with a displeased look.

"First time in Luemmasa?"

"That it is. I'd heard about it, but experiencing it myself—truly unreasonable weather."

Even with the innkeeper's indifferent tone, the man brightened and drew closer. The innkeeper quickly sized up the sorry state of him and understood—the journey here would have been exhausting.

Guests who came around this time tended to arrive looking like drowned rats without exception. She gave him a brief sympathetic look and then extended a key with an unconcerned hand.

"Heating bath water costs extra."

"That's fine. But when does the rain stop?"

"Who knows. There should be sun within a week."

A string of small questions followed—was the local resident really ignorant of this, was it really true that what was rumored to be here was here, what was she most confident in serving.

She had been replying throughout with the bare minimum of courtesy, when his opening of "a knight order—" made her snap her head up.

"Knight order?"

"About a week ago—I came across them on a forest road near Helron."

"Which one? Were there many knights?"

"Let me think. They were wearing black unit uniforms—I don't know which one. The number looked to be around fifteen."

"For the love of— It's the 9th Knight Order!"

The innkeeper went pale as chalk and clutched her head. The mop handle rolled carelessly across the floor. The man who had been chattering nonstop asked in bewilderment:

"What's wrong with the 9th Knight Order?"

"Do you even know where you are? This is a village that survives on hunters' money—one sweep of this place and business dries up for a good while!"

"But they didn't seem like they were heading this way. They looked like they were going into Helron, not coming out."

"…Is that right? Which forest road?"

"Not the road coming here—it was a forest to the east."

The innkeeper breathed out. A grumbling complaint came with it: why hadn't he said so from the start.

Rietta, who had been sitting at the corner of the dining room watching all of this in silence, moved her gaze to the rain-fogged window. The rain had been going on for well over a fortnight. There were days when the downpour lightened occasionally, but not once had it stopped entirely.

"Melian."

A rough voice came through her lips, like the scrape of rusted iron. The boy who had been lost in eating lifted his head sharply. Gold eyes shone with light even in the overcast weather.

"Yes!"

Brown curls bobbed pleasantly. Melian set his spoon down beside his bowl—which was nearly as large as his face—and looked at her with an open face. When their eyes met, he smiled at once as if he'd been waiting for it.

Rietta gave it brief thought and wiped the soup from the corner of his mouth.

"How long, do you think?"

"Seven days—no, the sun will come out in five. And I can do this myself."

Cheeks flushed pink, Melian snatched the handkerchief from Rietta's hand. While the boy was scrubbing at his face as if washing it, she confirmed how much of the food had disappeared and picked up her fork.

Five days was neither long nor short—a decent window. Even now, most of the travelers had declared defeat and left Luemmasa. The five days of scheduled rain would thin out the remaining numbers by more than half again.

Rietta stroked Melian's soft hair once and took out the carelessly folded paper.

〈 ★ Last known location: Luemmasa.

★ High probability hidden somewhere on a mountain in the vicinity.

★ The will appears to hold a clear clue. 〉

Below the notes that weren't much use was a fairly detailed illustration.

Dozens of diamonds ringing the outside, with an unnamed black gem set dead in the center—a necklace. It was ornate, but for a hidden treasure left by the first emperor it felt slightly plain.

Rietta's eyes rested on the jet-black gem for a time. Ornate or plain, the appearance didn't matter.

"Miss Rietta. What is that?"

"Something Grace gave me. From here, you're the one who needs to find this."

"Me? Can I see too?"

Rietta handed the only clue over to Melian without hesitation. Strung with words like a riddle, no amount of thinking on her own would produce an answer. Grace had sent the boy as a 'guide'—there was some hope in that.

Melian, the small hands holding the paper, settled into a look of genuine concentration. Rietta watched him and began eating what was left. It was a late meal.

'The 9th Knight Order.'

The middle-aged man who had just come into the inn predicted the knight order would be heading for Helron. Rietta was quite skeptical of that opinion.

Other cities could be reached through many different roads that didn't require going through Helron at all. But the only entrance to Luemmasa—surrounded on all sides by mountains—was the single road to the south that connected to Helron.

Even if they had been spotted on an eastern forest road, what were the odds that that 9th Knight Order would simply pass Luemmasa by?

Among the ten knight orders under the imperial household, the 9th Knight Order operated on the nominal pretext of guarding the area around the capital. But in practice, it was fair to say they existed to apprehend high-grade criminals and treasure hunters.

They were famous for always returning with visible results—people or items—once they began a job, so there was no chance they'd pass this place by, the breeding ground of treasure hunters.

'Helron would have been a stop for resupply before they headed for Luemmasa.'

"I think we'll need to go have a look."

Rietta pulled her gaze back from wherever it had drifted and turned it toward Melian.

"Where?"

"Mount Tarun. I'm certain it's there."

Mount Tarun was a peak situated at the far northwest end of Luemmasa. It was unreasonably high for any casual climb, and the terrain was so rugged that travelers did not welcome it.

Among the villagers it also had a notorious reputation—at least one person went missing on it every year without fail.

"Your reason?"

"Look here—it says 'at that place, where stepping off by just one foot would bring you closest to the sky, I will find my rest.' It must definitely be somewhere higher than other places."

"They say the area around it has already been searched by other hunters."

"No."

Melian shook his head with certainty.

"They won't have looked at the higher places."

"What do you—"

"Excuse me."

Rietta, on the verge of pressing for an explanation, shut her mouth at once. The unfamiliar voice was very close. She had not closed her ears once during the conversation. To have only become aware of it when he was already this near meant the owner of that voice had covered the worn wooden floor without a sound.

Rietta calculated the distance between the door and the table. She turned her head slowly toward the one who had intruded without invitation.

A hood pulled deep down. Visible beneath it was only a mouth, smiling smoothly.

"Would it be all right if I join you? There are no suitable seats."

When a voice set the ears tingling swept through—entrancingly warm—the entire inn fell silent.

Rietta did not bother looking back around the inn that was pitifully empty save for two tables. The stillness right now was not a reaction to nonsense about non-existent seats.

The two or three travelers at the table across, the innkeeper, and even the middle-aged man who still hadn't dealt with his wet robe—everyone was sneaking glances this way as if under a spell.

'The worst.'

Rietta concluded her brief assessment. This man in front of her was a person who attracted far too much attention from the surroundings with minimal exposure. She set down the spoon she'd been holding.

"No."

"Thank you."

He returned a courteous bow to the refusal. Then he settled into the seat across from her as a matter of course.

Then he turned a smile similar to the one before toward Melian, who was watching him with a strange expression. The boy made a face of utter distaste.

The man glanced around briefly and then, as if he'd forgotten to, brushed his sleeve once—which had not a single raindrop on it. The gathered gazes scattered immediately.

"It really does rain a great deal."

The man opened his mouth amid the sounds that had started up again. The innkeeper had been staring this way, having forgotten entirely that she had been mid-mop. Only then did she return to her endless cleaning, with an absent look.

After a brief silence, Rietta pushed her portion of sausage toward Melian's side.

"Say what you want."

The hand holding the robe dropped. As if interest had already cooled, the man propped an arm on the table with a languid motion.

"It's not much of a travel destination—nothing to see anywhere."

"Get to the point."

"Wouldn't it be a good place to pretend boredom finally wore you down and you came looking for something?"

The man tapped the table playfully with the hand he'd set there, just as Melian had a moment ago.

"You seem to be looking for something high up as well."

"I am."

"An interest in treasure, it seems?"

Rietta pulled down the hand of Melian, who was gripping his fork as if to break it.

"That's the sort that comes here."

From where had he started listening? He had clearly overheard her and Melian's conversation. He seemed to have no particular intention of hiding that. Rietta weighed this unknown man's intent.

Luemmasa was a place with a clear purpose, so unless they were traveling companions, people didn't speak to each other even if they recognized each other's faces. Not sharing whatever information one had and attempting one's own search—that was the unspoken rule.

The man had ignored every one of those customs and approached Rietta's table by name.

"I see."

Even at her hollow answer he nodded as if satisfied. Then he stared out the window for a moment and stood from the seat without lingering.

The rain beating against the window sounded as though it was getting harder. He thanked her for letting him have the seat and turned to leave—and then, as if something had just occurred to him, bent toward Rietta once more.

"By the way—what are you?"

The man lowered his voice a little further and murmured to Rietta, who was staring at him in puzzlement.

"You've had the smell of the sea about you. Since earlier."

The rain stopped after five days, just as Melian had predicted—as if it had never been. In the meantime, one more person had come to the inn and three had left.

What remained until the end was Rietta's party and a group of men who had settled in around the same time.

The suspicious man who had been stringing together incomprehensible words made no further appearance after that. Since they wanted the same thing, they might run into each other by chance. But for now, not having him in sight suited Rietta in various ways.

'He was an unpleasant person.'

At the accusation that her response had been excessive, Melian had said that. When asked what was unpleasant about him, he used the word 'other in kind.' No word captured the man more precisely.

This was an era when dragon numbers were declining compared to before—and naturally, the population of other species had fallen sharply, and the quality of magic had deteriorated markedly. Mages capable of dispersing surrounding gazes with a single gesture were few enough to count on one hand.

The man speaking of sea smell and asking Rietta's nature was, in his own way, just as suspicious. When both sides had things to be wary of, not meeting was for the best.

"Where are you headed?"

"I haven't decided on a place yet."

Rietta gave a perfunctory answer to the man who appeared to be the leader of the remaining group and shouldered her bag. It was a stark contrast to their appearance—loaded with piece upon piece of equipment.

The man, his eyes going over Rietta's appearance, pointed at her bag with a look that said he was handling a reckless person.

"Seems like you're a little short on gear."

"It's fine. I don't plan to push it."

"…Well, best of luck to you, anyway."

Rietta dipped her head slightly, led the still-half-asleep Melian who kept yawning, and stepped out of the inn. Not a cloud in the sky, but the heavy overnight rain had left puddles everywhere.

Having taken a detour to avoid the group, she reached the foot of Mount Tarun around midday, and the state of the ground had not much improved.

Rietta studied the mud tangled with leaves that had been accumulating since winter and considered. Could a boy who looked to be around twelve really climb a mountain like this?

"Melian, maybe it would be better to wait a day or so after all—"

"Come on, Miss Rietta!"

Melian smiled wide, taking the sunlight filtering jaggedly through the leaves. It was the most full-of-life he had looked in all the time before and after their arrival in Luemmasa.

Setting aside her needless worry, Rietta followed Melian and set foot on Mount Tarun. The mountain was tall and deep—worthy of its reputation. But it was not so treacherous that a first-time climber would come to grief, not as badly as its name suggested.

Rietta watched Melian with quiet attention as he moved through without a sign of fatigue—in fact, with energy that grew over time.

'Here—your guide. Looks like this, but he'll be useful.'

Only now did she understand why Grace had attached him with such confidence. Melian pushed ahead without hesitation and yet turned around from time to time. When their eyes met, he always smiled and then moved on.

The common practice in the paths villagers frequented was to tie a brightly colored ribbon to branches or undergrowth as a marker. But Rietta had not seen anything resembling a ribbon until now. He was clearly guiding her along the shortest route to the summit while avoiding the roughest paths.

Rietta followed in silence and turned the will of Brynhildr over in her mind once more.

〈 An emperor is one who lives always with an unfathomable abyss beneath their feet. If my breath gives out and my body crumbles, there could be nothing more welcome. That would be the moment I take into my hands the freedom I have yearned for all my life.

I am a gust of wind, a bird, and also a cloud. A free spirit cannot remain in one place. Born of earth and returning to sky—my final resting place shall be the gap between. In that place, where stepping off by just one foot would bring you closest to the sky, I will find my rest. 〉

Having left clues difficult enough to find, the contents were straight-seeming yet figurative, and the meaning was ambiguous.

As the many treasure hunters surmised, it was not easy to read this as simply a mountaintop or a cliff.

Yet this slight boy walking ahead had named a location without much deliberation.