Chapter 175 — The Investigation

The rain stopped the next day, but the sky remained overcast.

The Kant Domain lay beneath a long, unbroken stretch of cloud. The last rain before winter was always reluctant to depart, and over the coming days the land would likely see several more moderate showers—abundant rain of this kind being greatly beneficial to the domain's specialty: magical herbs.

Most magical herbs continued to grow even in winter. Though their roots and stalks appeared withered and dead, spellcasters knew well that their "spiritual plants" were still nourished by the magical environment and would revive in the Month of Renewal the following year; how much they could grow during winter depended in no small part on that final rain before the frost and snow arrived.

Breakfast was taken in the dining hall of Gao You Castle with Viscount Victor Kant. Since the viscountess was too ill to receive guests and the viscount's only son was not in the domain, only the two of them sat at the vast table. For all that the tableware was magnificent and the dishes exquisite, the atmosphere of the meal left Gao Yang rather ill at ease.

He preferred the lively warmth of a crowd gathered around a table to this—sitting at one end of a long board with an old nobleman at the other, so distant that even a single exchange of words seemed to demand a time delay.

"I hope you rested well in this old house," Victor Kant said as he cut the bread before him. "The castle is far too old. I intend to have it renovated once more in my lifetime."

"It is comfortable—more comfortable than I expected," Gao Yang praised, with a trace of insincerity. "An ancient castle gives one a sense of security."

Victor smiled and glanced beside Gao Yang. "Your two retainers seem to have left early this morning?"

"They don't take well to constraint. I sent them into town to clear their heads—they're more at ease in a rowdy tavern."

"Understandable. In fact, when I was young I preferred taverns to this quiet castle as well." The old viscount raised his cup. "Of course, in your presence I am still but a junior."

Gao Yang raised his cup in reply and said casually, "The viscountess's health is a matter of concern. What exactly is her illness?"

Victor's movement paused, almost imperceptibly, and then a smile settled on his face. "You have met her already?"

By Lilith Kant's own account, it was this old viscount who ought to have arranged for her to pay her respects to Gao Yang—yet now Victor acted as though he were hearing of it for the first time!

Gao Yang concealed the shift within him and kept his faint smile. "She came to greet me after dinner last night. But she looked very unwell."

"My poor Lilith," Viscount Victor sighed. "Her health has never been good. She cannot bear sunlight, nor tolerate noise, and so she must live in the North Tower for long stretches, able to come out only at night. But she is a very kind soul. Whatever tolerance I show my people, I owe largely to her—she is always urging me to consider the feelings of those who cannot afford good houses or meat. Yet her own body only grows worse."

The Viscount Kant's mercy and tolerance toward the common folk of his domain—Gao You had heard murmurs of it in the servants' idle talk the day before, and it was one of the things that had surprised him most. He had already formed the preconception that Victor Kant was very likely a cultist of the Church of Eternal Slumber, or at least under the cult's control and bewitchment, and that this was why he would abduct refugees for evil rituals. He had never imagined that every word he heard after entering the Kant Domain would be praise for this old lord!

Unable to judge how much of the servants' gossip was true, he could only follow the current: "Treating one's people well is every lord's duty. We carved out this kingdom in the first place to protect our subjects, not to ride over their heads and lord it over them."

"Yes, and a pity it is that so few still remember that." Victor's sigh seemed to come from the heart. "More and more nobles have forgotten why their ancestors first took up sword and blade. We were meant to be a shield for the common folk, a support they could lean on to live in peace, a guide to lead them toward plenty and warmth. But most nobles nowadays were raised in castles and manor houses; they take the service and tribute of others as their due, and forget entirely that they ought to bear some responsibility... cough, cough..."

Victor seemed to have spoken with too much agitation and could not help coughing. When he had recovered, he let out a long breath. "Every year I spend a great deal of time inspecting every farmstead and herb field in the domain, so as to know the year's harvest exactly and keep excessive taxes from leaving my people hungry. And I spend no small effort dealing with merchants, making sure the surplus herbs and grain of the domain all find buyers, so that my people have enough coin to repair their houses and buy fuel for the winter. But this has kept me from many a so-called 'high-society gathering,' and so the vulgar southern nobles take me for an eccentric recluse, a tasteless boor... ah."

Viscount Victor had spoken a great deal in one breath, and only afterward realized it and gave an embarrassed laugh. "Forgive me. Old age brings a habit of rambling. But I think you will understand me—I've heard that you, too, treat your people well."

"Of course," Gao Yi smiled and raised his cup. "It is every lord's obligation."

...

At the same hour, in the town outside the castle, Amber cradled a cup of foaming ale and listened to the idle farmers and craftsmen boast of their dull, threadbare daily lives. She wore an expression of interest, while in her heart she calculated how many more cups it would take to buy the answers she wanted.

The farming was done, and the weather suited no work out of doors; so the wealthier peasants and craftsmen with a little spare coin whiled away their worthless hours in the town taverns. The Kant Domain, like Tamsen Town, was one of the few prosperous domains in the southern borderlands, and the common folk who lived here naturally frequented taverns and gambling houses all the more often. With such people, a few cups of ale and a few words of flattery were enough for Amber to coax out every secret they had.

For Amber, who had haunted such places since childhood, it was a pleasant process.

Especially when the money for the drinks was not her own—then the pleasure was all the greater.

She had put on an outfit to match her assumed station: black leather armor and a somewhat worn cloak, a short sword whose hilt peeked out at her waist from time to time, and a "lucky stone" bound at her wrist—and the image of a wandering warrior was complete. Common folk regarded such people with both awe and curiosity, and drawing them out became easy.

After the third round, and enough talk of fields and ghost stories from old houses, Amber judged it time to bring up the lord. She turned an expression of curiosity on the blacksmith seated at the table. "I hear your lord is a man who knows how to run a domain. True or not?"

"I don't know the first thing about running a domain," the blacksmith said, his eyes bleary and his breath thick with drink. "But Lord Victor is the very best of men... hic... with him about, everyone gets to eat their fill—even in winter, half a belly. Why, it's been a dozen years or more since anyone starved to death in this domain!"

Farther south, there was another place where the common folk not only didn't starve, but sometimes even got meat.

Amber mused to herself, while her face showed admiration. "That's no small feat!"

"Isn't it, though—Lord Victor is the most charitable lord I've ever seen," another older drinker chimed in. "Though I hear from those who cart vegetables and milk up to the castle that the place is rather gloomy—always a feeling that somewhere a draft is coming through..."