***
A middle-aged man with sunburned skin and deep wrinkles was shoveling oats from the granary into a cart.
When the grain blew about, the man sneezed. He spat once and kept loading oats until the cart was full.
He filled the cart with oats and was hauling it to where the cauldron stood near the stable.
'This'll be about 2 weeks' worth of horse feed.'
Mofford put water and oats into the cauldron and lit the firewood. The cauldron was so big that it took a roaring fire just to bring the water to a boil.
The stablehand Mofford was secretly carrying out a new order given by Lord Artin, Vice Commander of the knights.
He had seen the new squire, Rafin, go into the keep on the east side carrying a tunic. He knew that squires, while basically attending the knights, also mended clothes at the request of other high-ranking vassals.
Mofford had been loitering idly around the castle so he could watch the entrance of the east keep from a distance. Rafin should have come out of the keep long ago, once he had delivered Stormmond's mended clothes, but he still hadn't come out.
After he had loitered around the stable and the keep like that for a good long while, he saw Rafin come out.
Mofford thought Rafin's conduct today was suspicious. He felt he ought to report it to Lord Artin.
Mofford finished cooking the oat mash and went to find Lord Artin.
When Artin saw Mofford come into his private chamber, he sent everyone else away.
"What is it?"
"Today Rafin visited Lord Stormmond's keep."
"Why would Rafin meet the mage?"
"It seems Lord Stormmond gave him some clothes to mend. I saw Rafin go into the keep carrying a tunic, you see...."
"Mending clothes is routine work for a squire. Did you find something suspicious?"
There was no one in Artin's chamber but Artin and Mofford, yet Mofford turned his head left and right for a moment to make sure once more that no one was around.
"After Rafin went into the keep, he didn't come out for a long time. If he only dropped off the clothes, he could have come right out. It seems there was some kind of secret talk with Lord Stormmond."
"...What could Lord Stormmond have to say to some new squire?"
"I wonder that myself."
Artin opened a drawer and took out a leather pouch. He took a few silver coins out of the pouch and gave them to Mofford.
"Good work. You may go."
Mofford bowed and withdrew from the chamber.
Artin thought that the mage and Rafin growing close could become a threat. Rafin had won the jousting tournament and was rated fairly good with a sword, so barring anything unexpected, it was certain he would become a knight.
If Rafin became a knight and his authority and standing grew accordingly, and if he and Lord Stormmond saw eye to eye, they could easily pull off something big.
If Rafin had been an ordinary squire, Lord Stormmond wouldn't have paid him any attention, but Artin thought that Rafin, a tournament winner who was even good at mending clothes, a squire's menial chore, might well seem admirable from Lord Stormmond's point of view.
Even the lord couldn't treat Stormmond carelessly. A mage was of great use in battle.
All this time, the lord had supported Stormmond in every way, material and otherwise, so that he could live comfortably at Barad Castle.
If he could catch evidence of suspicious moves by Stormmond, who came from the south, and report it to the lord so that House Rosrad could counter the threat, Artin thought he would win the lord's trust in a big way.
Since Rafin was the Knight Commander's squire, Artin's thoughts on this must not be discovered by the Knight Commander.
***
All this while, Rafin had thrown himself into the squires' sword training held in the afternoons. When he had first come to Barad Castle, he had hidden his skill during training, but if he kept training that way, he didn't think he would get any real training done.
Watching Rafin's sword training gradually change, the swordsmanship instructor Anies realized that Rafin had gone easy on him in their sparring on the first day.
Anies remembered Artin telling him not long ago to keep a close eye on Rafin's conduct. But apart from the fact that Rafin had hidden his swordsmanship, there was nothing particularly suspicious about him.
Meanwhile, Gerhardt had to prepare for an expedition south of the Grimhall Mountains. He called Vice Commander Artin and swordsmanship instructor Anies to his private chamber for a meeting.
Gerhardt had a servant bring out mead.
"Have a drink, all of you."
Anies poured mead into each cup. The three of them took a few sips of mead.
Gerhardt began.
"I called you here today because I have something important to pass on."
Artin and Anies looked at Gerhardt with eyes that said they hadn't expected it.
Gerhardt went on.
"The lord has ordered me to inspect the defenses of the northern vassal houses south of the Grimhall Mountains. For some years now the winters have been getting colder and colder, and colder winters mean the barbarians beyond the Grimhall Mountains may come down."
Artin put down the cup he was holding on the table and spoke.
"So we're setting out on an expedition after a long time. Then where is the first stop?"
"Orpul, in the northwest, will be the first stop."
"That's my hometown. Is Lord Stormmond coming on the expedition too?"
"Lord Stormmond will stay at Barad Castle. He's old, and taking him along on a long expedition would be a burden."
Artin wanted Lord Stormmond to come on the expedition. Whether Lord Stormmond's age made it physically hard for him or not didn't matter. Once the expedition set out, Barad Castle would be left largely empty of troops.
There was no knowing what scheme Lord Stormmond, who came from the south, might hatch while the castle was empty.
"Lord Stormmond has powerful magic, so if the barbarians attack while we're inspecting the vassal houses' defenses, couldn't he help us hold them off with minimal losses?"
"Of course, you're right about that. If we borrow the power of strong magic, we can reduce our losses. But there's no knowing where along the vast Grimhall Mountains the barbarians will attack. Suppose we bring Lord Stormmond along with the expedition to Orpul at the far northwest, and the barbarians come down in the northeast.
The northeast will be laid waste before our expedition can reach it. It's better for Lord Stormmond to stay here in Unton, roughly in the middle."
Gerhardt looked at Anies.
"What's your opinion?"
Anies thought he understood why Lord Artin wanted Lord Stormmond to join the expedition. It wasn't that he didn't understand Lord Artin's suspicions, but looking at the big picture, the Knight Commander seemed to be right.
"I think Lord Stormmond should not join the expedition but stay at Barad Castle. However, I think we must take measures so that communication between the expedition and Barad Castle can be as fast as possible. That way we can send Lord Stormmond quickly to any domain that is short of troops."
Artin shot Anies a sidelong glare, without letting it show.
Gerhardt nodded slowly.
"Good point. Then, Anies, you set up a relay of messengers. And how is the squires' training going?"
"They're training steadily. Rafin is better with a sword than I thought, as expected. Now that I think about it, my first sparring match with Rafin seems to have been a little strange. He didn't show his real skill from the start."
"Haha. So that's how it was. That's the skill that won the jousting tournament; however good your swordsmanship, it would have been hard to overpower Rafin easily. Tell the squires we'll be setting out on an expedition soon. And have them prepare the supplies we'll need. Rafin is my squire, so I'll tell him myself."
Gerhardt was pleased to hear from Anies that Rafin's swordsmanship was better than expected.
'If he's going to be the Knight Commander's squire, he should be at least that good.'
Artin and Anies came out of the chamber. Artin thought he would have to order Mofford to keep a thorough watch on the mage's movements while the expedition was away.
The squires had finished lunch on the 1st floor of the quarters and were resting nearby. Rafin was resting in his room when a servant brought him a summons from the Knight Commander.
Rafin knocked on the door of the private chamber and went in.
"You called for me?"
Gerhardt offered Rafin a seat.
"Sit. I have something important to tell you."
Rafin thought that if it was something important, it must be about setting out on an expedition.
Gerhardt went on.
"Barad Castle's knights and troops are setting out on an expedition. The first stop is Orpul, in the northwest."
"I see. Orpul is the Vice Commander's hometown."
"The people of Orpul were originally a nomadic warrior tribe, so many of them excel at horsemanship and archery."
Rafin remembered that in his past life, the people of Orpul had been a nomadic people. They were a tenacious people who had survived in a harsh environment.
"While I'm there, if I get the chance, I'd like to learn some horsemanship from the people of Orpul."
"It's good to learn it firsthand."
"After Orpul, we'll go to Geston."
"Then the expedition goes east by way of Orpul."
"On this expedition, we'll probably run into barbarians. So you need to steel yourself. I hear from Anies that your swordsmanship is beyond your lance work."
"Thanks to Sir Anies's teaching, I've been honing my swordsmanship well. He's a fine sword teacher."
"Right, Anies has always been good at teaching. That's why I put him in the post of swordsmanship instructor. We'll get ready and set out on the expedition, so until then, keep yourself in good condition. Don't go outside the castle to celebrate by drinking, or to places like a house of pleasure."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"The knights will tell the other squires about the expedition."
Rafin finished talking with the Knight Commander and went back to the quarters. If there was fighting with barbarians on the expedition, he meant to show his skill to the fullest.
On his way back to the quarters, Rafin ran into a stablehand.
Whenever he passed the stable, he would see the stablehands silently cleaning the stalls or feeding oat mash to the horses.
Among them, the middle-aged stablehand he ran into today had been meeting his eyes often lately.
Since their eyes had met, Rafin struck up a conversation.
"Are the horses eating their oat mash well?"
"Yes. They eat well. Look at their coats. They've got a real shine to them."
"Horses do better when they're well fed. I hear we'll be setting out on an expedition soon."
"I see. Then I'll have to get plenty of hay ready."
Rafin talked with the stablehand for a moment and then went to the quarters. The middle-aged stablehand had unusually bronzed skin and a solid build. With his sharp eyes, he was a man who looked more like a mercenary than a stablehand.
When Rafin came into his room, he felt he had forgotten something. Then he remembered what had slipped his mind all this time.