Chapter 192 — A Fish, What a Huge Fish

When the first ray of morning sunlight spilled across the earth, Pea was already long out of bed.

The first thing she had to do was fetch water from the small square at the mouth of "Knight Street."

Knight Street was one of the earliest districts built in the territory, and was said to stand on the old site of the soldiers' barracks from when this frontier settlement had first been pitched. It had originally been a long, orderly stretch of military tents and several depot platforms piled with army supplies, but half a year later two neat rows of brick-and-tile houses stood here, along with a square at the end of the street.

Most of the Cecil soldiers with families lived in this area. One side of the street was the new barracks district, and the other was the lord's residence and the offices of several principal departments; thus Knight Street could also be regarded as the innermost line of defense in Cecil Territory.

To live in such a place seemed to be the dream of many young people in the territory.

It meant they possessed the most respectable standing, that they could wear imposing enchanted armor and carry the legendary heat-ray guns of fearsome power, and that they were already entitled to have their families join the ranks of "citizens."

Pea had come to this territory when the brick-house renovation of Knight Street was more than half done. With her own eyes she had watched the workers on this land tear down the tents and plank sheds with astonishing efficiency, then put up neat, sturdy brick houses, installing magic-driven crystal-stone lamps before every door, until the place became a bright, fine spot lovelier even than the wealthiest quarter in Tanzan Town. She had moved with her adoptive father, Byron, the chief knight of the territory, into one of the first brick houses completed on Knight Street. Her present standing was that of the chief knight's daughter—the "mute young lady" of Knight Street.

But to Pea, these changes in her life seemed not to have affected her overmuch; nor could anyone else make out what truly went on in the mute girl's mind. She could not speak, and this "silence" of hers all too easily became the pretext for others' idle speculation. So she was used to working quietly, to quietly finishing whatever was assigned to her, to asking no curious questions and attempting no conversation—for then no trouble would come her way. Such was the worldly wisdom Pea had gathered over the years, and it held true even after she had moved to a strange place and into a solid, spacious house.

Only as she lived here longer and longer did she come to realize that this place was indeed utterly different from the surroundings she had once known so well.

After bolting the door, Pea set off toward the small square with her water bucket. On either side of the road stood neat two-story brick houses—dwellings that blended Ansuit classical style with the Grand Duke Cecil's "pragmatism," a sight to be seen nowhere else. At the very least, no dwellings elsewhere could be so extravagant as to have a crystal-stone lamp set beside every front gate. And in the street between the houses, men were all but invisible; there were only the womenfolk, working before their doors while trading the news of the day.

The men of Knight Street were for the most part soldiers of Cecil Territory—and if not soldiers, then workers in the various factories. The former had to spend most of each month on duty in the barracks or at the various guard posts, while the latter went out to work by day. So at this hour, those to be seen in the street were almost all women.

Mrs. Malin, drying fish by her door, caught sight of Pea. This plump lady was one of the few who had narrowly survived the old Cecil Territory; her husband was a veteran, and she herself enjoyed considerable standing on this street. Seeing Pea come out with her bucket, this most respected of ladies at once hailed her in a loud voice: "Pea, off to fetch water? Want a hand?"

Here was a way Cecil Territory differed from other towns: someone would help you.

Pea made a sound of "ah—ah" and shook her head at Mrs. Malin, indicating that she could manage perfectly well on her own.

"What a good girl," said Mrs. Malin, who loved nothing better than a chat—her fondness for it was so great that she could converse at length even with a mute. "Sir Byron not back yet? Or has he gone off again?"

Pea stood with her bucket and thought for a long while, unable to work out how to answer such a complicated question, and so could only shake her head apologetically.

Mrs. Malin, however, cared nothing whether Pea answered or not, and simply talked on herself: "Ah, I hear he's been poking about the ruins in the mountains. My man went along with him once before, but came back and told me nothing at all. Tsk, tsk—men always have their secrets... Pea, are you off to the castle later to see Miss Betty?"

Although Duke Cecil had never built a "castle" in the traditional sense, everyone, plainly enough, still called the lord's residence the "castle": in their simple notions, wherever the lord lived simply had to be a castle.

At the mention of Betty, Pea finally smiled, nodding happily.

Here was a way Cecil Territory differed from other towns: even the chief maid who lived in the lord's castle was easy to talk to—she had even shown a newcomer like Pea around the territory and shared with her the sweets the lord had rewarded her with.

Though it seemed the lord had only that one maid to his name...

After that Mrs. Malin rattled on about a great many things, from the weather since the onset of winter to the clanging construction sites across the territory, and from those wondrous machines she wandered off into the exceptional harvest this year. Fortunately she still remembered that Pea was bound for the well, so after letting the topic stretch as far as just how big Viscount Rebecca's great fireball could actually grow, she cut herself off decisively: "Oh, once I start I can't stop—hurry off and fetch your water! Come round to my house to eat when you're back!"

So Pea bowed slightly to Mrs. Malin and went briskly off toward the small square with her bucket.

Along the way, person after person greeted her. Most simply called her by name—"Pea"—while a few called her "the Byron girl" or "Miss Kirk," the latter after Byron Kirk's surname. Pea answered every greeting with great care, and a faintly cheerful smile gradually rose to her face.

Here was a way Cecil Territory differed from other towns: the people here called her by her name, and not simply "the mute" or "the useless one."

At first Pea had thought this was because of her "standing"—because she had an adoptive father who served as chief knight, people were obliged to show respect to a little mute. But she soon discovered that such an attitude prevailed throughout the territory, that it was so between all people. And after a time, she heard from her adoptive father a saying that came from Duke Cecil himself:

The great majority of vices and vile customs stem from a shortage of food. When people can eat their fill, they begin to consider morality. This may not be absolute, but it holds in most cases.

Pea could not yet fully understand the lord's wisdom, but she vaguely felt there was sense in those words. Back when she had gone hungry, she too had pilfered small things, and had once been whipped by the constable for stealing a loaf of bread, the constable declaring before all that she had "an inborn thieving nature, bred in her blood." Yet now, when she found something that was not hers, her first thought was to hand it over to the patrolling soldiers.

And she trusted that those soldiers would not pocket for themselves what she turned in—for her adoptive father had told her more than once how strictly the lord governed the army. She trusted her adoptive father utterly.