WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 162
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Firewood was not something one could obtain simply by going into a forest or mountain and cutting down trees.
More specifically, every tree in a forest or mountain was the private property of the local lord. Cutting one down without permission was therefore illegal and, in principle, could be severely punished.
Still, people did not always live strictly by the law. At times, cutting trees was permitted during designated periods. Other times, it remained illegal, but people looked the other way.
Fire was needed to cook meals, and it was needed to stay warm. People could not be expected to starve or freeze to death.
It was not as though lords only cared about satisfying their own greed and never thought of their people.
Those living in remote, sparsely populated areas could cut trees freely without much concern, but in densely populated regions, the amount of firewood available was inevitably limited.
Cities had no choice but to receive food, firewood, and other necessities from rural areas. When supplies faltered, famine could take hold in an instant.
People sometimes died in droves.
Firewood was like air. It was essential, yet everyone took it for granted. Only when they felt they might suffocate to death did they realize its value. Firewood was much the same.
And there it was, piled up like mountains. Not figuratively. Literally. Logs were stacked nearly as high as houses, and there seemed to be dozens of such piles.
Fences surrounded those enormous stacks of firewood, while armed guards guarded them closely.
In other words, the firewood belonged to someone.
“Until yesterday, two bundles of firewood cost one copper coin. Why is it only one bundle today? The price has effectively doubled overnight. This is extortion.”
Markwin spoke as though the matter were absurd. The head of the Kelbron Trading Company, however, showed no particular reaction.
One cheek was still swollen, making their face uneven. A Nord mercenary had struck them.
They quietly looked at Marie standing behind Markwin, then turned back to Markwin.
“It is not extortion, Mayor. Just as grain prices fall in autumn and rise in winter and spring, it is only natural for firewood prices to rise as winter approaches. Winter draws closer with every passing day, so is it not only natural for prices to rise day by day as well?”
“Even so, I have never seen prices double in a single day. It is hard not to suspect some other motive.”
“Another motive?”
“Are you not trying to test us?”
“How could I dare test you? Madam was born with the noblest blood in the world, and even famous heroes could not withstand her swordsmanship. For someone as insignificant as me, someone who merely buys and sells goods, to try to test her would be foolish even by my own standards. I assure you, that is absolutely not the case.”
If they had not been so good with words, they might not have been so irritating. It was like strangling someone while insisting they had no intention of killing them.
“If you fail to sell all of this before winter ends, will that not be a loss for you as well? Let us make a reasonable deal.”
Markwin still tried to keep the negotiation alive. Then Marie, who had only been watching, stepped in.
“Just pay what they ask. One copper coin per bundle. Let’s buy five thousand bundles to start.”
It came to around fifty gold coins. It was not much compared to the money Ricart had received from selling spices and silk, but in their current poverty, it was an enormous sum.
“M-Madam.”
Markwin was flustered. The Kelbron merchant was equally surprised. They had not expected her to purchase firewood at that price.
“The Nords are building cabins now, and once people start using firewood throughout the winter, even that will not be enough. I have some money saved up, so I’ll cover it for now.”
“No, that is not the issue. You should not buy it at this price.”
“Then do you have another good solution?”
“No...”
No matter how one looked at it, one copper coin for a bundle of firewood was an outrageous price. The merchant clearly intended to fleece them. They could not simply accept that.
But as Marie said, failing to stockpile firewood could bring heavy losses that winter. There were not only the people in the city, but even more of Adelorne’s people living outside it. Refugees, that is.
In truth, five thousand bundles would not nearly be enough, even if they gave it all away for free.
The head merchant of Kelbron stood there blankly at Marie’s absurd decision before finally opening their mouth.
“May I speak with you privately, Madam?”
Marie nodded and signaled to Markwin. Having heard nothing of this, Markwin moved away from them with a bewildered expression.
The head merchant approached and spoke in a low whisper.
“Is this because of your pride?”
“What do you mean?”
“You only need to apologize. That is all we want. A public apology.”
“You want me to apologize? For what?”
“Do you truly not know? At the last trial, you took the Nords’ side. What does that make us? I can overlook being struck, but there are people watching who follow me.”
“And if I apologize?”
“We will sell at the proper price. Five bundles for one copper coin.”
Marie considered this in silence before speaking.
“I have never heard of a judge apologizing for a verdict. If I apologize, every judgment I make from now on will lose its authority. No matter how I consider it, I cannot apologize.”
It was a truly wise answer. She refused to compromise even though a few words could save an enormous amount of money. Authority could not be measured in money.
“Even if people freeze to death?”
“If that happens, it will not be because of me. It will be because you made it happen. I appreciate your honesty, but do not shift responsibility onto me. What you are doing now goes against the ethics of trade. You are holding people hostage and threatening us.”
“...What I truly do not understand is this. Madam and we are from the same homeland, while the Nords are barbarians from who knows where. Why are you doing this to us?”
“By that reasoning, the people of Adelorne have nothing to do with me either. Does that mean I should not care whether they live or die?”
Marie did not yield an inch. And what she said was right.
But the head merchant did not find it realistic. No, she seemed to lack practical sense.
Even when one was morally right, resolving real problems required all sorts of ways of dealing with people.
One had to lower one’s pride when necessary, lie when necessary, and be shameless when necessary. That was politics, and the head merchant believed it had to be done that way.
There seemed to be a fundamental difference in how they viewed the world.
Even after saying this much, they could not make themselves understood. The head merchant gave a hollow laugh.
“How old are you, Madam?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You seem too young a woman to bear such a heavy burden.”
What? Marie tilted her head, wondering if she had heard them correctly. Then anger quickly rose within her.
She stared at them frostily.
“Head Merchant, I believe you have crossed a line.”
The head merchant tapped their swollen cheek with a finger.
“You crossed the line first, Madam. As someone from the same homeland, I wanted justice. Even though justice was not done, I endured it once. Now you say you cannot even apologize, so I have no other choice. Pay me. One copper coin per bundle of firewood.”
Marie was boiling inside, but she remembered what Paolo had said and endured it. She had decided to stake everything on that.
“Have you never considered this?”
“What do you mean?”
“That I have treated you with as much courtesy as possible because I am young and a woman. What do you think would have happened if it had been my husband?”
“Unfortunately, Madam, I also came here at first believing your husband would quickly bring Adelorne under his control. But look at the situation now. He is facing Prince Lotharius, whose forces are larger. More than that, Prince Lotharius seized the bridge first and holds the advantage. We are the ones most sensitive to the course and outcome of war. I wish him good fortune, but if I may offer practical advice, you would be better off appealing to Prince Lotharius’s affection for his sibling in advance.”
“Is that so? Is that what you think? Then what will you do if the opposite of what you expect happens?”
“Pardon?”
“If my husband defeats Prince Lotharius and returns here within a week, what will you do then? What do you think will happen if I tell my husband about the insult I suffered today?”
The head merchant listened to Marie and burst into loud laughter, as though they truly could not believe her.
“If that happens, I will be as good as dead. Would I not have to calculate how much my life is worth? Still, it is regrettable that you remain unrealistic to the very end, Madam. Such a thing will not happen.”
Marie gave a small, incredulous laugh and turned away. With one hand resting on the sword at her waist, she left. The negotiation was over.
She approached Markwin with her head lowered and shoulders slumped. The city’s citizens, peacekeepers, and Nords all watched from a distance.
They glared at the Kelbron merchant as though they wanted to kill them. To them, the merchant looked greedy and cruel. Naturally, the truth was more complicated than simple greed.
Before long, someone arrived to pay. When they handed over a money pouch full of gold coins, the merchant released the firewood.
Five thousand bundles might sound like a great deal, but considering the city and the refugees, it was woefully insufficient. Marie distributed all the firewood for the time being.
Then, the very next day, not even a week later, word came as if by magic that Ricart had won.
No one could believe it. The Kelbron Trading Company could not believe it, the citizens could not believe it, and even Marie could not believe it. There had not even been time for her to worry.
Everyone wondered whether something had gone wrong in the delivery of the news. Yet someone arrived almost at the same time as the news of victory.
He was proof of that victory.
Heeheeheeheeing!
A horse’s cry unlike any ordinary horse, stronger and more resonant, shattered Adelivari’s quiet morning.
When people emerged, they saw someone riding an unheard-of scarlet horse through the center of the city. The horse looked as though its entire body were on fire. Its size, muscles, and balanced build made it nearly the ideal warhorse.
Its rider wore a splendid war robe of red silk, and the armor that flashed now and then in the sunlight was golden.
He looked like an archangel descending from heaven. He was so dazzling that those who saw him felt shabby by comparison.
The legend passed down through Adelorne was true. The Red Prince. No one doubted it.
Ricart was a living legend, both because of what he had done and because it had coincidentally unfolded exactly as the folk song said.
Still, whatever people felt, Ricart himself was simply excited. His expression was not frivolous, only bright as he looked around with a smile. His blond hair, now long enough to slightly cover his ears, swayed.
There seemed to be more people than when he had left. But there was only one person Ricart wished to see most.
“Marie! Marie!”
Ricart threw back his head and called out loudly. His shout made people feel refreshed, and they could not help smiling. His very presence seemed to embody joy, hope, and victory.
When he reached the palace where Adelorne’s kings had temporarily stayed, Marie surprisingly came running out. She was rather improperly dressed, barefoot in see-through nightwear.
But when Ricart dismounted and swept her into his arms, his red cloak covered her body.
Joy only came after pain. Perhaps sorrow and suffering existed in the world so that God could teach people what delight was.
The purest, healthiest kind of joy filled their hearts and invigorated their entire bodies.
“Hahahahaha!”
Ricart’s laughter rang out, and everyone watching wore a smile.
Ricart and Marie held each other tightly for a long time. When they finally came back to themselves, Ricart removed his cloak and wrapped it around her.
They looked at each other. They needed neither a hundred words nor even one. A single smile and glance were enough.
“Ricky!”
It was Bori’s voice. Ricart stretched out a hand to him. As Bori approached, Ricart pulled him into a fierce embrace. He held him so tightly that it was almost suffocating, but it felt wonderful.
Ricart looked over everyone who had come out to see him and spoke with a smile.
“It has been a long time, everyone. Or perhaps not that long? In any case, I am glad you all seem to have managed well enough. I ended up visiting the holy site, then traveling through Lunadan to Sinatria, and crossing the Empire, so I was delayed. The Knight Order will arrive a little later, since they are bringing Prince Lotharius’s supplies. If I am not the only one happy, let us talk business later.”
His voice was brimming with confidence. It was not forced. It was genuine confidence. Even his eyes seemed somehow different. He felt like a greater person than before.
Bori was the first to notice.
“You seem different, Ricky.”
“Do I? In a good way?”
“I don’t know. It feels like you’re farther away somehow.”
“I haven’t gone anywhere. I’m right here.”
“That’s true.”
Laughing, Ricart vigorously ruffled Bori’s tawny hair before heading inside. He first took off his armor and washed himself in hot spring water.
By the time the husband and wife had finished what married couples did, it was around noon.
After the storm of joy had passed, they felt calm and peaceful, like clear weather after rain.
Marie suddenly remembered the firewood matter, but she did not want to tattle about it from beside his pillow. It seemed petty.
But Ricart noticed the subtle change in her.
“What is it? Did something happen?”
“No.”
“If you don’t tell me, I won’t ask.”
“You don’t have to ask.”
“No, I don’t want you to feel hurt.”
“What would I feel hurt about? Idiot.”
Marie said it with a smile. Now that Ricart had returned, the firewood matter no longer seemed important.
Ricart’s sharp eye, however, did not miss it.
“By the way, why does this place look so empty? It feels like some furniture is missing.”
“We needed money, so we sold what we could.”
“Really? Wait here.”
Ricart got out of bed, dressed, and went outside with only a sword at his waist.
The hallways were empty too. He thought there had been porcelain and tapestries and such.
Mayor Markwin happened to be passing by, so Ricart stopped Markwin.
“Why does this place look so empty?”
“Pardon? Ah, we were short on funds, so we sold quite a lot. Once the war is over, we will slowly replace things.”
“No, no, that is not what I mean. It just feels different somehow.”
Markwin hesitated before beginning carefully.
“...The truth is...”
Unlike Marie, Markwin told Ricart everything about the firewood matter exactly as it had happened.
Unexpectedly, Ricart did not become angry. He merely smiled as if it were ridiculous.
“Is that so? Then tell that head merchant to come see me. Right now.”
“Yes, understood.”
Not long afterward, the head merchant came to see Ricart. Their stiff expression made them seem quite nervous.
Ricart casually asked them, as though it were nothing.
“I hear you charged one copper coin per bundle of firewood. Is that true?”
“Ah, well, actually...”
“Yes or no?”
The head merchant thought that if they misspoke here, they would die. As a merchant, they were not entirely without sense.
“Yes.”
“You do not need to be so nervous. I am not that narrow-minded. I can understand merchants seeking profit. But were you trying to test Marie?”
“Pardon? N-No! Absolutely not! How could I dare? How could I dare do such a thing to one of royal blood? It is slander! I know who said it! That person named Markwin, is it not? You must not keep them at your side! They are cunning! They are the one who has blinded the imperial princess and caused her the most trouble!”
The head merchant of Kelbron was so tense and flustered that they protested their innocence while saying things they had not needed to say.
“I told you not to be nervous. But if you feel so wronged, do you have anything to prove it?”
“P-Prove it?”
“That is right. The Knight Order will arrive soon. We will need more firewood then, so how about treating what you have prepared as a gift for me?”
“...”
The head merchant suddenly remembered saying that they would have to calculate how much their life was worth. In other words, their words had come true.
But they had traveled through the surrounding regions and spent all their funds buying this firewood. It was essentially everything they had.
Ricart could see the head merchant calculating. Marie had tried to speak with them, but Ricart did not want a conversation.
“If you do not want to give me a gift, then do not. I will not force you. But let me ask one thing. I have cut off a Sultan’s head, and I have cut off a king’s head. If I cut off a merchant’s head, will my blade grow dull, or will it remain sharp?”
A gentle smile rested on Ricart’s face as he asked. He was not glaring or anything like that.
In truth, he was little different from a bandit. But what could anyone do about it? If another lord had acted this way, that lord’s reputation among merchants might have suffered. Ricart was not someone who cared about that.
As he himself had said, someone who cut off kings’ heads would not care about reputation among merchants. Above all, even if his reputation worsened, he could seize merchants by force and make things happen.
“...It was a gift I had prepared from the beginning. I believe I was somewhat rude to your wife because I wished to present it directly to Sir Ricart. I could not think of a suitable way to refuse, so I ended up refusing in the form of an unreasonable demand. I will of course return the money, and I must naturally give you all the firewood as well.”
Ricart was sincerely impressed. How could they speak so well?
Certainly, one should not try to defeat merchants with words. That was why Ricart believed he had no choice but to use somewhat violent methods when dealing with merchants.
Because that was my strength.
“Thank you. I will put the firewood to good use. You may go.”
The head merchant bowed deeply to Ricart before leaving the room.
Thus, a matter that had caused them so much trouble was resolved at once. It truly was an age when an individual’s charisma mattered.
When complex and varied interests became tangled, there was a charisma in cutting through them in a single stroke rather than untangling every thread.
Not every matter in the world could be handled that way. Still, if I wanted my words to carry weight, I needed some of that.
Ricart had returned. And with him, the confused and chaotic Adelivari began to find its center.
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