A day's distance from the lord's keep lay his home village.
In the late afternoon, as the sun tipped slowly down, a single horse and behind it a donkey-drawn cart came over a hill.
—Clop, creak. Clop, creak.
A lake came into view, and a little further in, houses clustered close together at the water's edge. It was a low hill village ringed by mountains.
The waterways drawn out of the small lake, running off in every direction and reaching as far as the cultivated ground on the rises, made an impressive sight.
"This is my home village. I hope it will be yours from now on."
"It is a beautiful place."
The couple, pleased with the peaceful scene, wore bright faces. And the couple's clever child took advantage of the adults' pause to see to her own business.
"I need to wee."
Her mother took her into the grass.
"We'll rest a while."
"Understood, my lord."
The man took the reins from Hans, tied the horse to a tree stump beside them, and tethered the donkey to a nearby tree.
A short while later.
"Kyaa!"
"Oh my."
At the scream from the woods Hans drew his blade at once and dove into the grass. The laborer followed with a club raised.
—Bleeeeat.
"Oh, it's sweet!"
—Pat, pat.
The laborer's wife was sitting on the ground and the child was stroking the neck of a lamb cropping grass.
Look about, look about.
"Hoo."
Arriving on the scene and confirming there was no danger, the two of them let out a breath of relief.
'True enough, there was no killing intent in it. I thought my instincts had gone dull.'
Hans put his blade away and looked around.
—Rustle, rustle.
Just as the sound of someone in the grass had him tensing again.
Pop.
A shepherd boy's face came through the brush.
"There you are. Found you — eh?"
Pat, pat.
"Heh heh. Mister, he's sweet."
An awkward stretch of time passed, made up of a child treating a shepherd boy with astonishing friendliness, three adults watching a shepherd boy who had burst in on them, and a shepherd boy frozen for a moment by a sudden turn of events while looking for a lost sheep.
"Mm? Brother Hans?"
When the shepherd recognized Hans and called out, Hans narrowed his eyes and looked the boy over.
"Ah, now I see. You're Suleiman's younger brother. Buckman."
"Yes, brother. You've come back?"
"I have. Snot-nosed Buckman, grown this big already."
"Thank you. Kekeke. Brother Suleiman will be very glad."
"Right. Tell him we should gather soon."
Hans patted the startled shepherd's cheek, gathered his party and made for home.
When the child could not bring herself to let go of the lamb and her eyes began to swim, Hans soothed her.
"I'll have a word and see that a few lambs are put in our keeping."
At their landholder's word, given by a man who keeps his promises, the couple bowed their heads. The child had her head taken in hand and made her proper bow with them.
"Thank you."
Young livestock are sometimes gathered and raised separately and safely for a set period. At such a time one may be handed over for a suitable price, or bought cheaply.
What he felt on entering the village was that the streets were narrower than he remembered.
'Only three years. Was I such a small child?'
The main road where he had gathered with boys his own age and made trouble was in fact barely wide enough for a cart to pass. That the memory had become something that would never come again left a bitterness.
Four years had gone by, but the house was the same. A fairly large two-story house, near enough a manor, and a neglected garden came into view.
'It was a rich and beautiful place once.'
All at once the guilt of the years he had lived as a good-for-nothing came pressing in.
At the sound of someone in front of the house, his mother opened the door and came out.
"Oh. Hans. My son."
"I'm home."
Held in the arms of a mother weeping and welcoming him, Hans's own eyes reddened.
Here was a prodigal come home from a battlefield, kneeling before his mother and atoning.
"From now on I will show you a grown man."
"Yes. You came back whole."
—Pat, pat.
"You're back."
"Yeah, you idiot."
He was reunited gladly with his younger brother, who came ambling back just then from work in the fields. His father, they said, had gone off on caravan business.
Hans called over the couple, who were standing awkwardly at one side of the yard, and introduced them to his family.
"They came looking for a place to settle. I brought them to employ on our farm. The domain registration is done; we saw to it on the way."
Bow.
"Good day to you."
"Welcome. Hands have been scarce, so you've come at a good time."
Milo, his brother, delighted at the thought of lighter work, showed the couple to the annex. Having given them bedding and brought them firewood, he told them to rest and disappeared.
Only then did the couple feel the relief of a long journey ended.
"Dear, we really have found a good master, haven't we?"
—Nod, nod.
"They seem like people with no sharp edges, people you can talk with."
Remembering how Hans had drawn faster than he had that afternoon at his wife's and child's screams and rushed into the woods, the man smiled, satisfied.
'He has strength enough to protect our family.'
Hans's strength, seen back when they were travelers, the treatment he received from nobles with his head up, and his keeping of every promise had bred a boundless trust.
His wife stroked the sleeping child's cheek.
"I hope it becomes a good home for our girl too."
"Let us work harder so that it does."
For people living in an age where war and hunger are everyday things, the wish is one meal and a safe house to lay the body down in.
The couple thought their wishes had all come true.
"They say Hans is back?"
"Truly? Is he hurt anywhere?"
"Mikhail says he's whole. And what was it — he earned merit in the war and came back with some title or other."
"A title? So Hans has become a noble lord?"
"Ah, so he has. Does that mean we have to kneel and bow every time we see him now?"
"Good grief. I wonder if that troublemaker Hans has come back with some sense in him. What if he's a noble now and throws his weight about?"
Someone watching the worried conversation cut in.
"He made trouble, but the boy was good-natured."
"That's right, he was. He always bobbed his head and greeted me properly, as a village elder."
When one opinion was added another chimed in.
Each person's information had an opinion added to it, and so it became the village's position.
In the end their gossip settled Hans from 'the local punk' into 'a boy who made a bit of trouble when he was young and had no sense.' That was also the village's hope regarding a newly arrived strong man.
"After going through all that and being conscripted to the war, it's a mercy."
The man glanced around for a moment and lowered his voice.
"And old Paget has had no reaction?"
"Well...... I wouldn't know that either."
"It's worrying. There's no chance that temper of his has died......."
The gossip of a country village, which can account for the number of spoons and wooden bowls in any house, went on for some time after that.
"Hans, please, I beg you. Can you not let it go?"
His mother spoke with worry in her face. Hans tied his bootlaces and spoke calmly, but without room in it.
"It is a thing that has to be ended sometime."
Unable to stop him after so firm an answer, his mother watched her son's back as he left the manor with worry in her eyes.
Hans felt her gaze as well.
'I am still making my parents worry. But that ends today as well.'
Leaving the manor he met his brother taking the laborer and his wife out to the fields. In an age where living and dying are not so very different, his brother wished him luck in arms as though it were nothing.
"Don't lose again."
"Hoo hoo hoo. Right. I know."
Hans nodded with a smile on his face.
When Hans's back had disappeared into the distance, the man said.
"The master will certainly win."
"I can't imagine him losing."
At the man's flat declaration of victory his wife added her piece from beside him. At that strong belief the younger brother's face turned puzzled.
"He does seem to have got a bit stronger...... ah, but, Mister Smits, speak plainly with me. My brother's the noble — am I a noble?"
"Hahaha. A noble's family is treated as noble too. Semi-nobles. You will get used to it soon."
"Good grief. It's excruciating."
"And you are the landholder besides. You ought to be addressed properly."
"Nngh. Fine. We'll say that's how it is. But don't force it on our sweet Anna. Think how uncomfortable it would be for a little thing like her."
Anna, who had been trotting along after her parents, came running over at hearing her name in the adults' talk.
"Anna is going to be a polite child."
"So she says."
"......."
Smits shrugged, and his wife stroked the child's hair fondly.
***
Hans perched on a rock at the village entrance and looked off toward the lord's keep. Some time later, as the sun reached the top of the sky, mounted figures could be seen approaching from far off.
"Good day to you. Would you be Sir Zimmer?"
"Welcome. Hans Gale Zimmer."
"Well met. We come on the lord's instruction."
The man introduced his party.
"This is Sir Humint, knight, and these are the administrators, and I am the inspector, Cloy Gus Mirden."
Having greeted each of them, Hans said.
"Let us go. You must be busy; I'll see it finished quickly."
The man answered the admirable young fellow who recognized how busy they were.
"That is the best thing I have heard all day. Let us go at once."
***
In front of the mansion on the village's main street, Hans steadied his breath and called out.
"Hans Gale Zimmer requests a duel of House Parminen."
—Murmur, murmur.
Passersby crowded in and muttered.
"What's all this?"
"So it comes to this after all."
"A duel. It's been a while since we had a show."
"Hans, they said he was back......."
The mansion's door opened. A middle-aged gentleman and a young man of enormous build came out, the two of them ringed by four guards.
"What is this about?"
"The reason for the duel is to end a debt of three years ago."
The middle-aged gentleman cleared his throat and spoke as though admonishing him.
"Ahem. Ahem. Now, Hans, I heard you were back. I understand your feelings, but a duel requires an inspector to be engaged first, and......."
Hans turned his head and looked at Cloy Gus Mirden.
The inspector responded at once and stepped between them. The middle-aged gentleman's eyes went wide at the sight of him.
"The lord takes a considerable interest in this duel as well."
"No — Sir Mirden, what is this......."
Glancing once at the middle-aged man, the inspector declared it before the crowd.
"I, Cloy Gus Mirden, take charge of the adjudication of this duel, and swear upon my honor to judge it fairly."
When the inspector had declared it, an administrator beside him held out documents.
"Sir Zimmer, will you sign first?"
"Gladly."
Hans signed and passed the document to the inspector, who held it out to the middle-aged man.
"Sir Zimmer has staked his own life and three hundred gold coins as the forfeit of the duel. Stake something equivalent."
Three hundred gold was a sum House Parminen could not meet if it emptied everything it owned. The middle-aged man closed his eyes and appeared to think for a moment, then opened his mouth as though there were nothing for it.
"I will stake my life and all my property."
"Paget, deputy tax collector?"
The middle-aged man looked at the inspector.
"That falls well short."
"......."
Hans said.
"Stake the whole of House Parminen."
—Murmur, murmur.
"How much is three hundred gold?"
"Money enough to buy three hundred serviceable packhorses or cattle."
"It's money enough to buy six hundred young, strong serfs."
"Whew. That's enormous."
A man with a single packhorse or cow is called a wealthy farmer. To them three hundred gold was a sum beyond imagining.
"Old Paget's face doesn't look good."
"Should we be saying Sir Hans? Either way, it seems he has the upper hand."
"For a noble you put 'Sir' before the family name. It should be Sir Zimmer."
"Commoners like us can just call him 'my lord' and be done with it."
—Nod, nod.
"So we can. Calling him 'my lord' is easier. What use have we for memorizing noble rankings?"
"True enough."
In an age with few events to speak of, a duel is a fine spectacle. The villagers who had gathered one by one imagined the blood and the carved flesh to come, and looked forward to it.