Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 48

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 48.
Breaking Through the Trap, Into the Storm (18)
He didn’t seem particularly guarded in his speech either. Yet the Count, far from taking offense, laughed heartily and replied.
“My, what a suspicious fellow you are. Why don’t you bring me that bear cub of a son who takes after you?”
That very son was pushing open the door and stepping inside.
Boris had been absorbed in his own thoughts, paying little attention to their conversation, but at that moment he found himself turning to regard the newcomer.
“Guertaf, come here and pay your respects.”
“Yes, Father.”
So this was the one said to wield a blade well enough to prepare for the Silverscull Tournament?
Yet somehow, he seemed better suited to swinging an axe—or even a mace—than a sword.
His height matched Boris’s own, but his broad shoulders, thick forearms, neck, and waist all fit the description of a bear perfectly. His expression, too, seemed far removed from anything clever or sharp.
The two young men exchanged a handshake. Guertaf possessed hands so large and densely furred that they practically swallowed Boris’s own, which were hardly small.
“Since the night is late, why don’t we rest well, and tomorrow, to stretch our legs a bit, I’ll take the boys on a hunt? There seem to be a few wild boars prowling about near the fortress lately. What say we catch one and have ourselves a barbecue? How does that sound?”
Listening to Marquis Merder speak in such an unpretentious tone for a nobleman, Boris found himself seized by doubt once more.
Could this man truly be a nobleman? Could he truly be the Count’s friend? Could this house actually be his?
“And why didn’t you bring that pretty daughter of yours? Being a father without daughters myself, I find that girl particularly charming. Are you keeping her hidden away from me?”
“Rosnis caught a light cold. She’s resting at home. Had circumstances been different, I would have brought her along for the journey, but it couldn’t be helped.”
“Oh, I do hope she recovers soon.”
Of course, the story about Rosnis being ill was a lie, but Boris was in no mood to concern himself with such trivial falsehoods now.
Midnight had already passed. After the brief evening meal and the formalities of greeting concluded, the Count and Boris were each shown to their bedrooms.
The night was deep, and though exhausted from a day spent in the carriage, Boris found sleep eluding him.
Once suspicion took root, everyone around him seemed to be conspiring in some elaborate performance.
His thoughts drifted to Rosnis. Was she also playing a part in this deception?
As his heart settled somewhat, he decided it couldn’t be so. Rosnis was a girl whose emotions governed her actions, whose honesty was born of her own pride.
Having watched her closely all this time, he was certain she couldn’t sustain such an elaborate pretense in her daily behavior. Her temperament was simply too immature for such deception.
Unable to sleep and finding his mind growing ever sharper, Boris rose from his bed.
He’d been in the bedroom for over an hour now. It seemed wise to survey the surroundings while everyone slept.
He crept to the window and peered outside. Though he knew which floor this was, he was prepared to jump if circumstances demanded it. But beneath the window lay a bed of thorny brambles.
He went to the door and turned the handle. It opened, but the corridor beyond was brightly lit by lamps.
He recalled Marquis Merder mentioning that beasts often prowled these parts, which was why the manor kept its lights burning through the night.
Prepared for any sudden turn of events, Boris lay back down, his sword held close to his body.
Unless he was willing to abandon Winterer and flee, he had no choice but to continue his convincing performance, return to the manor, and devise an escape plan from there.
Yet the following day brought an unwelcome hunt.
Though exhausted from the sleepless night, there was no avoiding it. The Count selected seven of his twelve knights. The Marquis summoned some ten hunters from his own retinue.
There were dozens of hunting dogs as well. The manor’s front courtyard was filled with the sound of their barking.
“I’ll lend you five hunters and thirteen hunting dogs. Why don’t we see who catches a wild boar first—you and your son, or us?”
“Fair enough. But I’ll choose which hunters to take with me.”
“Ha, suit yourself, my friend. Do you take me for someone who would mock you?”
It was the first time Boris had seen Langie up close since leaving the manor. Strange as it was, they had been separated for some time.
As Boris looked at him, Langie’s eyes widened slightly and he blinked several times. Confused and uncertain, Boris was about to speak when the Count said something.
“Leave the servants behind. We’ll need to ride hard.”
A sudden realization struck me, and I quickly shook my head.
“I have little experience with such matters, so I wish to accompany you. Please permit it.”
“You won’t be of much help….”
The Count looked down at us both with displeasure, then spoke to Langie.
“Can you ride a horse? If you can, I’ll take you along.”
I tensed immediately. It was rare for a servant to know how to ride, but Langie had displayed unusual skills even when drawing his sword before.
Langie answered with downcast eyes.
“I can ride.”
“Hmm…. Very well. You may come then.”
He still seemed reluctant, but having already spoken, he could hardly refuse. It was obvious he’d made that remark thinking it impossible for a servant to ride.
Marquis Merder gave me a black horse with a white blaze on its nose—one the household raised with particular care. Langie received a relatively docile brown horse.
The others mounted as well, and our party began galloping toward the Western Forest.
The morning forest was damp with dew. As we picked up speed, branches hanging over the path sprayed droplets onto my head. The grass beneath the hooves crackled softly.
The sun, not yet hot, warmed the back of my neck pleasantly. The headache from exhaustion gradually faded.
The swaying sensation of riding after so long felt oddly refreshing. The deeper we ventured into the forest, the clearer my mind became.
“There!”
Marquis Merder was delighted. He’d wanted to show his guests the prowess of his hunters and hounds, and a wild boar had conveniently appeared early.
Excited, he shouted orders.
“Azov! Keep chasing! Dowell, block the southern route! Drive it toward the cliff by Stepping Stone Stream, understood!”
Bark, bark, bark…. The sound of hounds surged forward noisily. The wild boar was charging southwest. The Count laughed as he spoke.
“Professionals are indeed hard to catch.”
But there was no time for laughter. Suddenly, from the forest where the hounds had just rushed through, three more wild boars came charging like arrows.
They’d clearly been startled by the hounds’ commotion. It seemed the boars were traveling in a herd today.
“Damn!”
The hunters had no time to nock their arrows. Those on horseback scattered in all directions. The hounds savagely tore at the hides of the nearest enemies.
With three boars, the attack lacked coordination. The hunters shouted at the dogs to focus on just one, but once excited, the hounds wouldn’t calm easily.
Moreover, the boars began fleeing in different directions. One hunter cursed.
“Karl! Dolf! Krel! This way! Whistle! I said this way!”
Since Marquis Merder’s hunters had followed the first boar that appeared, only the Count’s party remained here.
But the Count remained unruffled and issued orders.
“Split into two groups and drive only the one on the left! Delemir! Gromius! You two cover the flanks so the other boars don’t attack!”
The knights showed little enthusiasm for hunting. But since it was the Count’s command, they had no choice but to draw their swords.
The Count immediately led one group and began riding. His figure disappeared among the trees.
Large trees scattered throughout narrowed the space, and the hunters obstructed the knights’ movement. When someone screamed after being struck by a hoof, one knight cursed.
“Does this bastard want to die, blocking the path like that….”
In that moment, I realized I’d heard those words before.
The memory was vivid. When those same words had been hurled at me, my body and spirit were exhausted, with nowhere to turn for support.
Perhaps that’s why the memory was so precise. Why it wouldn’t fade.
“I’m… I’m sorry….”
The hunter did not behave like Boris, who at that time had nothing left but malice.
As the hunter hesitated and stepped aside, the knight Delemir snorted and turned his horse’s head in another direction. A riding crop was held in his hand.
Why had I not realized until now that those appearances were similar?
I had been toyed with like a pathetic puppet. Everything I had believed to be truth shattered.
Eight knights—that was it. The Count, who always brought twelve knights with him, had only eight when he returned from Trabaches.
The four men who had picked a quarrel in front of the Inn that day—by now, even a fool would have understood.
And one more thing: those four men in front of the Inn that day had used the word “Nobility,” which people from Trabaches did not use.
“Young master, this way.”
I heard Langie’s whisper from beside me.
Boris gathered his scattered thoughts and followed him. People were dispersing. Some of the knights, having no particular task assigned, began chasing other wild boars on their own.
I ran frantically after one group.
When I came to my senses, only Langie and I were racing along the forest’s edge. Langie ahead handled his horse with practiced skill.
His pale green hair fluttered in a steady rhythm. Langie’s figure on horseback resembled a nobleman’s son. The sounds of people gradually faded into the distance.
Langie did not look back. He did not slow. He turned into a place thick with massive trees and galloped deeper into the forest until nothing but tree shadows were visible.
Screech!
Black birds erupted from dark thickets and rushed toward us. Parabolic wings, feathers scattering in an instant, light at the edge of darkness.
Surrounded by all manner of sounds, I felt strangely at peace. Water droplets fell, leaves whispered, wind whistled, and sunlight flowed past, leaving dappled shadows. My breathing gradually opened, as if feeling fresh air at the end of a long tunnel.
Even if it were an illusion, I wanted to keep riding like this, a little further.
At last, we stopped.
Neigh!
The horse cried out long. White sheen flowed along the black horse’s neck like a halo, mingled with sweat.
It was a forest I did not recognize. The clearing surrounded by trees was filled with the warmth scattered by the spring sun.
Langie turned his horse’s head and leaped down lightly. I dismounted as well. Langie’s lips moved slightly, and he smiled.
“You could not go after all.”
“…”
I could not answer, only looking at Langie’s face. But Langie did not seek an answer.
“We have no time.”
Hanging from the side of the horse Langie had ridden were a simple lunch box and a quiver, like those of the other hunters. He pulled the lunch bundle and held it out to me.
“Langie, you…”
“Will you not take it?”
When I took the lunch box, I felt my arm falter. Not because it was too heavy to bear, but because the lunch box, which should have contained at most bread and cheese, was unexpectedly substantial.
“What is this?”
“It is something absolutely necessary if you are to travel far.”
It was likely money or other travel provisions. How had Langie obtained such things?
“And.”
This time Langie lowered the quiver. Only then did I recognize the long bundle wrapped in leather and cord inside it.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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