Circumstances of a Fallen Lord

Chapter 51

Luisen learned that Carlton had once lived in a stable, taking care of horses, before running away from home. “No wonder–so that’s why you’re so skilled at horseback riding. Is that also why you’re so good at handling this guy?” Luisen stroked the donkey’s back.

“I was just born with it. Even when I was a child, there was no adult that could ride horses better than me,” Carlton flattered himself. Though his words were irritating, there was no way to figure out if the mercenary was telling the truth; Luisen simply glared at his companion.

“Now that I think about it…back when you were left behind in the village near the castle…how did you do that? You called for the horse, right?” Cartlon spoke of the incident where Luisen was left behind in the village on the way to the Vinard territory. When Carlton came to rescue the young lord, everything was already a chaotic mess. However, Luisen was able to signal his location by silently whistling and drawing the horse’s attention.

“That signalling method–it’s to call back the horse after letting it loose in a pasture,” Carlton said.

“Ah, I learned from someone I used to know.”

“Is that perhaps the same person who gathered the sal-sal grass for you?”

“Yep. That person.” Luisen naturally talked about the one-armed pilgrim throughout the course of their conversation. He had no choice but to lie to hide the fact that he had regressed, fibbing on details such as when they met. But, Luisen’s ardent feelings for the one-armed pilgrim could not be hidden.

     “He’s someone that has travelled to many places and helped those in need. Wise and merciful–he was a true saint.” As Luisen spoke, he gradually became more and more enthusiastic. The young lord boasted how great the one-armed pilgrim was–how the man had treated him well. “That man treated me incredibly well; he taught me a lot. Thanks to him, I was able to expand my horizons.”

“What did he teach you?”

“Mm…For example…If a stranger on the street were to slap my cheek, show him the other cheek.”

“Why?”

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“He’ll be bewildered, right? He might even call me crazy. If I attack his vital point in the opportunity presented in that situation, I’ll be able to take him down in one shot. I’m not useful in a fight, so I must be creative.”

“…I don’t think that’s what your pilgrim meant.”

“That’s right–his words are more meaningful than that. I’m not too intelligent, so that’s all I could interpret.” Luisen smiled bitterly.

The more Carlton listened, the more his expression distorted. To the mercenary, the one-armed pilgrim was peerlessly suspicious. He doubted the pilgrim was that honorable.

However, he certainly understood that Luisen worshipped the man so much that the young lord squeezed whatever lesson he could from their interactions and engraved it into his heart. Luisen was like a believer in a cult or a young man fallen deep into his first love.

‘Does he really like that guy so much?’ Carlton felt annoyed for some reason. ‘Aren’t I better than that weirdo?’ Something different from anger welled up from within; the mercenary felt like something boiling inside.

As they talked, they escaped the mountains and arrived at an inn at the foot of the mountain path.

The aforementioned inn was a small cottage; it was old and dirty with a musty, fishy smell emanating from various corners. Luisen doubted the place would generate much money in such a deserted place, and the building’s condition was still grave.

As Carlton had said in the mountain, his men would leave clues about their positions in several places if they were ever separated. This inn was one of those places.

When they opened the door and entered, the scene that greeted them was even more of a spectacle. The room was dark and received no sunlight; it felt as if the air was hazy and full of unknown particles. Drunkards were day-drinking, paying no mind to whoever came in.

Luisen asked Carlton doubtfully, “Do you really think your men left a message for you at this sort of inn?”

“Yes.”

‘Well, if he says so.’ Luisen followed the mercenary to a table. Though he didn’t order anything, a man–the owner perhaps–placed some beer and unidentifiable mystery soup on the table. Luisen held up his spoon and hesitated.

“Don’t eat that.”

“……”

Following Carlton’s advice, Luisen lowered his spoon. “Why are we at an inn if we aren’t going to dine?”

The unfriendly owner snorted. Carlton neatly ignored the man. “I believe a friend of mine passed by this way not long ago.”

“Who knows? I have little idea who your friend is, but you can check that bulletin board over there.” The owner spun away from them. Luisen wondered why these innkeepers were all so unkind–when he was a wanderer, they would always chase him away with anything club-like.

In anycase, as the innkeeper said, there was a large wooden board perched against the wall in the far corner: a bulletin board that hosted rumors and newsletters from nearby villages or messages from fellow travellers. Luisen had also seen these at inns in the past.

Luisen and Carlton headed to the board; old and faded paper notes were pasted to its face. Since this location wasn’t often frequented by tourists, they were able to check all of the notes quickly.

“I don’t think we’re at the right place,” Luisen said, flustered. The young lord couldn’t find any note left by Carlton’s men. Besides, wasn’t it illogical to leave behind a note in such a public place after being attacked? Especially if the note’s content detailed secret meetup plans?

“No. This is it.” Carlton tore off one of the notes on the board. The note was a love letter to ‘My Dear Ennis.’ The content was something like ‘I miss you,’ and ‘The family’s gone on ahead, and I’m waiting for you with friends.’

“You shouldn’t touch another person’s love letter,” Luisen admonished sternly.

Though, he really couldn’t understand people who left love letters in such a shabby inn.

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“This is it: Ennis. That’s the name of one of my lieutenants’ girlfriend.”

“?”

“This note is masquerading as a love letter.”

“Aha!” Luisen was convinced. ‘So, they’re using secret messages that only the members of his group would understand?’

“It’s exactly as it says. The family refers to our army; the friends must be a few key members. Perhaps when we disappeared, they divided themselves into two groups. One group takes the spoils to the capital and the other was left to search for us.”

“Ah, so that’s how you read it. But, the letter didn’t reveal where those men are, did it?”

“Ah, to know that, take a look at the peculiarly slanted letters.”

“Ah…” Luisen glanced at the paper for a while. He had no idea what the mercenary was talking about…He looked at Carlton with glum eyes, “You all…live such complicated lives. So systematic. My own army doesn’t go this far. Usually, don’t most mercenaries not know how to read, let alone write?”

“When we first conceived this system, it was quite a headache to establish. We really struggled to teach them; we had to capture members that ran away because they didn’t want to study.”

 “Impressive.”

“It’s not so easy to drag around mercenaries while also being part of the prince’s entourage, you know.” Cartlon shrugged his shoulders; his expression belied self-pride.

Indeed, Luisen admired his self-made nature, easy masculinity, and his quick rise in status. “So, where are we to meet them?”

“Confosse.”

“Ah. There.”

Confosse Castle was located in a city at the crossroads between a large river that cut through the kingdom and a major road. Originally, it housed an important fortress for military endeavors, but the city naturally flourished because it was at the heart of transportation routes.

Because of that, nobles did not favor travelling through Confosse. They viewed it as a disorderly and congested castle that often had a transient, floating population of strangers.

“Have you ever been?” Carlton asked.

“No. If you go past that place, you’ll come across a lake. There’s a nice cottage there; that’s where I usually stayed.” Luisen had never even entered Confosse. If the Duke of Anies had dropped by, the residents would have begged him to stay the night.

“It’s disorganized and free. They don’t even inspect visitors at the gate.”

“They don’t conduct inspections?” Luisen was surprised. In this kingdom, people weren’t able to liberally move between most territories; access permits were usually required when entering castles.

“They don’t. Whether night or day, the castle gates are always open; they don’t mind who comes and goes,” Carlton responded.

“So, places like that exist? Hmm.”

“Therefore, all we have to do is go there–no other preparation needed. It’s a half a day’s worth of travel from our current location.”

“Really? Then, let’s go quickly.”

After properly organizing the letter within their belongings, Luisen and Carlton left the inn and began to travel again. At the thought of reuniting with Carlton’s men, energy surged throughout their bodies.

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Outside Confosse Castle’s walls.

Luisen and Carlton hid themselves in the bushes as they gazed over at Confosse’s gates. An unexpected trouble awaited them.

There was a checkpoint and a long line in front of the castle gates. Contrary to Carlton’s words, four soldiers stood at the gate, carefully examining the IDs, passes, and luggage of those entering.

“I thought you said the doors were always open here.”

“That is what I said–it wasn’t like this the last time I came.” Carlton didn’t expect this at all.

“Is there something happening? More than that, do you have your ID?”

“I don’t. What about the duke?”

“…I’ve never travelled around with my identification.”

Carlton gave a sneaky glance towards Luisen. Though he couldn’t properly see his face underneath the hood, the young lord’s jawline and facial shape were slim and beautiful. It was clear he wasn’t an ordinary man. “You certainly have an impactful face; it’d be best to take more care to hide it.” Carlton pulled Luisen’s hood down over his chin as well.

“No…I’m not talking about my face…”

Being part of a family as prominent as the Anies meant that, even without an ID, all castle gates opened for him; the lords of that territory would run out, barefoot, to greet him.

TL: So, short translator note that doesn’t really fit in any one footnote:

It’s really hard to consider what to do about dialogue here. Carlton has become much more polite to Luisen than he had been in the beginning of the novel…but he’s not speaking very flowery or prose-y either. He’s quite brusque–but politely brusque–while maintaining all formalities and respect he should maintain with a noble. In a sense, he’s admitting Luisen’s high status.

…And yet that’s really hard to convey in dialogue especially bc English doesn’t have hierarchical formality sort of engraved into their language. Still >.< I hope this was somewhat informative.