The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 2, Chapter 4
Chapter 4
On tiny, timid half-steps, Neia Baraja shuffled through the garishly-lit streets of the Water Gardens. Her tactic of keeping her eyes cast downward didn’t work as well as she thought it would because there were fountains and waterworks everywhere that reflected the scenes above. Additionally, the scent of a hundred perfumes tickled her nose and the sound of the debauched activities going on everywhere assaulted her ears.
“Hey, is that girl new here?” A woman’s voice came from the side.
“It looks like it,” another woman said. “Isn’t she cute?”
“She looks so shy that I’m getting shy, too,” a third woman laughed.
It’s not like I wanted to be here!
Working as a Squire for most of her memory, Neia didn’t have much exposure to the types of things that went on in the Water Gardens. Her head only filled with a funny-feeling pink cloud whenever her imagination tried to conjure what might be happening. The Temples always said that people were sinners for doing the things that they did, yet they did it anyway. Temptation was what it was because it was so hard to resist.
But I won’t fall to temptation. I won’t!
Temptation was probably expensive, too. She didn’t have much money.
Her thoughts halted as a pair of bare legs appeared in her vision. Almost bare.
Is that a fishing net? But why…?
The memory of the back of her mother’s closet rose from the depths of her mind, but it was a bad memory. She couldn’t recall anything else about it but her stinging butt.
“I-I’m sorry!”
Neia bobbed her head in apology before making her way around the legs and their fishnets. She didn’t know how anyone could wear something like that.
Still, her legs were so smooth. What did she do to make them like that?
She almost turned her head to look again, then shook it violently.
Temptation…temptation…giving in to temptation is weakness. Weakness is a sin!
Neia drew strength from her conviction, forging ahead with her eyes on the road. She made it to the next street corner before a gasp sounded from her right.
“You’re perfect!”
Despite herself, Neia looked around for ‘perfect’. She was curious about what it looked like. While she did, a painfully handsome man with long, silky curls of midnight hair walked right up to her.
KIASGHJDFSUWSHA!#@!
A Demon. The man had to be a Demon. One that had come to tempt her. She wasn’t sure what she could do to resist.
“I knew it,” Neia’s stomach performed a flip as he lavished a mind-melting smile upon her. “You’re absolutely perfect!”
“M-me?”
Neia looked around again, but there wasn’t anyone else nearby. She always thought that she looked terrible and romance was a hopeless venture for her. Maybe she was being too hard on herself.
“Would you like to join us at our establishment, Miss?” The man asked, “I’m sure you’d be one of our most popular staff members. We’re one of the most prominent businesses in the district and I assure you that our compensation will be competitive and on time. Ah, where are my manners – I am Sir Orlando Oliven?a.”
“Sir? You’re a Knight?”
If he was a Knight, then maybe he had a respectable proposal. He was still dangerously handsome, though.
“Indeed,” Sir Oliven?a said. “I was granted a title just last month. Truly, His Divine Grace is a progressive visionary! As the top earner in the district, I guarantee that you’ll be extraordinarily popular with our clients.”
“What do I have to do?”
“It’s quite simple really. All you have to do is glare at your customers and shower them with verbal abuse.”
Hah?
“A more advanced course would include striking them with various implements and stepping on them with those precious feet of yours. Bare feet would count as an extra, of course.”
Neia’s gaze went past the man’s shoulder to the magically-lit sign of his ‘establishment’.
The Queen of Thorns…
For some reason, there was a pretty well-drawn image of Queen Calca on it, but she was wearing a black mask over her eyes and brandishing a whip. As for the rest of her outfit…
“N-n-n-n-no thank you!”
Neia turned and fled. She would die if she wore anything like that.
Her flight took her to the edge of the next district. She stopped to fix her flustered appearance in the reflection of a fountain before moving on.
Alright, I survived. Next: shoes.
Now that she was back in the normal world, she could begin to do something about her situation. The streets were so busy that no one cared to look at her feet, but she had to be careful so that no one stepped on them or squashed them with a wagon wheel. At least it was late enough that the pavement had cooled to a tolerable temperature.
She scanned the street ahead of her, looking for a Cobbler’s shop. The closest one wasn’t far ahead of her, so she pulled her coin purse out of a pocket inside her dress. There were a few copper coins and a silver coin, as well as the gold trade coin that her parents had left with her.
The contents hadn’t changed much since before the war. Like any apprentice, Squires worked for room and board – they didn’t get paid. It was perfectly normal…except Neia never expected to be dismissed from the Holy Order.
“Welcome, Miss.”
“Good evening,” Neia nodded. “Do you have any good, cheap shoes?”
In response, the shopkeeper gestured to a row of straw sandals inside a metal cage.
Straw? No, that’s fine. I can even save some money.
She could buy proper shoes or boots later. All she needed was something to wear on her feet to protect them against injury while she worked what jobs she could find.
“I’ll take a pair,” Neia said. “How much?”
“Three silver.”
“Thr–”
Neia blacked out for a second. What insane world had she found herself in?
“Th-these are made of straw, right?” Neia asked when she regained control of her faculties, “As in, grass?”
“They still require labour and storage,” the shopkeeper said. “I assure you that the price is no different from the other shops in the city.”
Ugh…
She couldn’t afford it without breaking up the last bit of pocket change that she had received from her parents.
No, my parents would hate it if they knew I had to walk around barefoot. Father would probably bring in a deer himself for the leather. Once I start earning money, I can get another gold coin.
Making sure she always had a gold trade coin whenever she could felt like a good idea. It would be as if her parents were always there to take care of her whenever she got into money trouble.
Neia placed the gold trade coin on the counter.
“I’ll take a pair,” she said.
It was only then that the shopkeeper unlocked the cage. He went to get Neia’s change while she searched for a pair of sandals that fit her.
Back out on the street, Neia sorted through a mental inventory of what she needed. It wasn’t all that different from managing things as a Squire, except she had to pay for everything herself. Just that one part, however, made her want to start crying all over again.
These prices…was everything like this the last time I was in Hoburns?
Everywhere she looked, everything was expensive. When she tallied everything up, she found that it would cost her over a silver per day just to afford basic necessities. What little she had would dry up in less than two weeks.
Neia looked around herself. Everyone was rushing, rushing, rushing. No one smiled and no one stopped unless they needed to.
That means that I can’t stop, either. I need to find work. A lot of people died, so there should be a labour shortage, right? That’s why the Royal Court is recognising people that make big contributions to the recovery…
She briefly entertained a daydream where she stuck out her tongue at the High Priests after being recognised for her work and being made a Noble. Then, someone bumped her roughly from behind. There was no time to idle.
Three steps later, it occurred to her that she didn’t know how to ask for work. Was there an office for that? Were there forms to fill out? No one around her looked like they had time to spare for her questions. There was one thing that she did know, however.
A lot of fruits are coming into season right now. I wouldn’t mind getting out of the city…
The city was stupidly expensive and trying to find a new job quite frankly intimidated her. People out in the rural areas were more relaxing to interact with and they always needed labour during harvest season. Plus, it was cheaper to live out there and they probably wouldn’t check her employment history.
With her new objective set firmly in mind, Neia headed to the nearest Merchant Guild. Farmers weren’t members of the craft guilds, but the Merchant Guild would still have a better idea of who needed help and where it was needed than she did. She joined the line that stretched outside of the doors, and, after realising it would take over an hour just to get inside, she turned to speak to the man behind her.
“Why is the line so long today?” She asked.
The man looked a bit nervous upon being addressed. He wiped the sweat from his brow, visibly working up the courage to answer her.
“I-It’s about the harvest, ain’t it?”
“Did something go wrong?”
“The damn Nobles are what’s wrong,” the man just past him spoke up angrily. “They’re keeping all of the business to themselves!”
Neia frowned. The man facing her backed away a step.
“All of it?” She asked, “You mean the stalls in the city and everything?”
“That’s right! We had a sense that it was coming with what we knew about those labour camps they’ve set up, but we never expected the army to just up and leave. Now, the authorities are handing out permits like the city’s some backwards fief!”
Disgruntled muttering rose from every member of the queue within earshot. Neia examined the rows of stalls in the plaza. Pairs of liveried men patrolled the area and many of the stalls displayed the same colours as the security forces. That included every stand selling fresh fruit. Crowds rushed to purchase their goods while the men in the line looked on in silent rage.
“Isn’t city hall in charge of handing out permits for stalls?” Neia asked.
“They are, but their hands are tied. The Nobles control the harvest and they’re makin’ sure we’re not getting any of it. Then, their Merchants come in and justify the issue of new permits by pointing out that we don’t have any fruit to sell!”
Eh…
From her understanding of the Holy Kingdom’s laws, everything that was happening was technically legal. It was a twisted way of doing things, however. Normally, rural Merchants would bring goods from the villages to the towns. Then, the city Merchants would bring goods from the towns to the cities.
They mentioned something about the labour camps…is it because they’re right outside the city walls?
Every work camp was like a small city that lay at the edge of Hoburns’ city limits. It was easy to see how the Nobles’ Merchants could make the jump from delivering goods to ‘town’ to delivering them to the city when the city was mere minutes away.
“But why would they do this?” Neia asked, “Isn’t this just stealing food from the city Merchants’ mouths?”
“Damn straight!”
“They’ve cut us right out of the supply chain!”
“Someone needs to do something about those greedy bastards!”
She didn’t know what to say. During the war and on her patrols through the countryside, she would try to encourage the disheartened to become stronger and collectively gain some control over their lives, but that wouldn’t solve anything in this case.
“What about the Holy King?” Neia asked, “Surely, he doesn’t want the city to suffer.”
The cities were directly administered by the Crown and its prefects, so it was inevitable that they would take issue with what was going on.
“There hasn’t been anything from the Royal Court, yet,” the Merchant behind the first one said. “And I don’t think we can expect much from them anytime soon.”
“Why is that?”
“Look at the colours on those men,” the man pointed his chin towards the plaza. “They’re royalists.”
“They’re all royalists,” someone else said. “Every house with men in the city is a supporter of the Holy King.”
She had only learned a bit about politics from growing up in the Prime Estates. Even with that limited knowledge, however, things didn’t look good. Contrary to what his sudden ascension implied, the Holy King wasn’t an absolute sovereign. His power hinged on the support of the Temples and the nobility. To reverse what was going on, he would have to go against the interests of the royalists that he relied upon.
Neia prudently left the queue. Asking the Merchant Guild how to get a job with the royalists would get her in more trouble than she was already in.
Who would have thought that picking fruit could make enemies?
She shook her head as she walked around the square, eyeing the fruit stands and their crowds. Her stomach growled. The last time she had eaten was before speaking with Gustav nearly a day before.
Neia looked around to see if anyone was watching her before joining the throng. She came away with an armful of red plums and bit into one ravenously.
So good. And it was cheap.
The latter should have been obvious as fresh fruit had to sell quickly, but she appreciated it nonetheless.
In the end, is it safe to work on a farm? Or will that mean I’m on the royalist’s side? I don’t really care about politics, but I don’t like what they’re doing…maybe I can get a job with Iago Lousa.
Iago was a northern tenant whose lord – and the lord’s entire family – had perished during the war. As with many of the common folk, he had returned to his land and resumed tending to it after the fighting was over. He imported some Lanca from the south to replace his lost livestock. Then, when the Holy King issued his bold new economic imperatives, Iago steadily increased the size and numbers of his herds and thus his land.
Neia wasn’t sure how much money he had borrowed to do it, but, with the Holy Kingdom in the situation that it was in, his success seemed all but guaranteed. The thousands of people who came to work for him must have thought so, as well. Over the past few weeks, he expressed an increasing desire for security. Neia figured that she could get a job with him. It wouldn’t be much different than performing rural patrols as a member of the Holy Order.
She stifled a yawn after finishing off her plums. When was the last time she slept?
Gustav kicked me out, and then, before that, we started the patrol before dawn…ugh.
Could she make it to a nearby village before she fell over? All of her close acquaintances were from her old job, so asking them for a place to sleep was out of the question.
The capital used to be safe enough to sleep outside in, but things seem to be getting worse. There might even be Rogues, now…
Neia shuddered, imagining a man in a black cloak with a black hood and wearing a black mask emerging from the shadows to steal her new straw sandals while she slept. The Holy Kingdom had become a dangerous place for women.
She made her way out of the city as quickly as her tired legs would allow, reaching a nearby village by nightfall. It was more than a bit awkward for her to ask for a place to stay overnight, though mostly because the villagers kept looking at her and complimenting her over her dress while happily treating her to a late dinner. They were all people who knew Neia on sight due to her patrol route, so she felt guilty about not mentioning that she had been kicked out of the Holy Order.
The following morning, after a simple breakfast provided by her hosts, Neia headed further north through the gently rolling hills of the northern peninsula’s heartlands. Subtle scents of summer grass, wildflowers, and manure were carried by the northern wind, though she didn’t spot any of Iago Lousa’s Lanca herds as she made her way. She passed through three more villages before reaching the first town, which she went by without stopping.
Another four villages to the northwest of that town, she came to the top of a low hill where hundreds of tents encircled a huge villa partway through construction. Though it didn’t have an official name yet, the people who worked for Lousa called it ‘Hacienda Santiago’, which spoke volumes about how popular its owner was. Neia wasn’t sure what the Temples would do if they ever caught wind of the name.
Men nodded and tipped their wide-brimmed hats as Neia made her way through the tents. Most of them were ranchers resting between shifts that saw them tending to the herds and patrolling Lousa’s expansive territory. To the west, through the tents, she could see groups of them playing games meant to keep their skills in mounted archery and spearmanship sharp in much the same way that Nobles did.
The sounds of the camp’s activities gradually shifted to those of construction and Neia looked around for someone she could talk to. A foreman directed her to a large tent on the corner of the grounds, where she found Iago Lousa. The mouse of a man was sitting behind a cedar desk that was too large for him, looking quite intimidated as a pair of scribes droned out an endless string of statistics. He looked to the entrance in relief, then peered silently at her for several seconds.
“…Baraja?”
“Hi,” Neia timidly waved a hand. “Um…may I speak with you, Mister Lousa?”
Iago Lousa nodded and waved the scribes away. Once the tent flap closed behind them, he waited for a moment before rising to his feet with a cautious look.
“I never know when one of them will come bursting in to club me on the head with a new report,” Iago said. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my reaction, Squire Baraja. I’m used to seeing you in your uniform, so it took me too long to figure out which beautiful woman had graced my tent. Your father would never shut up when he spoke of you back in the day and I now understand why.”
The corner of Neia’s lip twitched as she fought to keep a silly grin from creeping onto her expression. She knew that she had a face that was better off not smiling.
“I…I’m not a Squire anymore,” she looked down at her feet. “I was dismissed from the Holy Order.”
“Those fools!” Iago shouted, “Have they gone mad?”
Neia’s head snapped back up in shock. She had prepared her heart for how she thought people might react to the admission, but she never expected this.
“You have come to this Iago looking for help, then?”
“H-How did you…”
A warm smile appeared under the man’s neatly trimmed moustache.
“Many have come to me with the same feeling that hangs about you,” he said. “Shame. Frustration. A certain mix of things. I have learned to recognise it right away. Don’t worry Squi–erm, Baraja?”
“Neia is fine.”
“Then, Neia, since you’ve come dressed like that…are you looking to settle down and raise a family? Many of my men have grown quite fond of you, so it will be quite the competition.”
Her mouth worked like a fish as her brain struggled to process his words. Fond? Of her?
…her outfit was all muddied up, but you could tell that she had a decent figure under it. Young, too. Could just cover those eyes with something, like a blindfold.
You’re absolutely perfect! I’m sure you’d be one of our most popular staff members.
Neia violently shook out the weird thoughts accumulating in her head.
“This, um…I-I just thought it would be nice to have a change of pace. The Holy Order took care of all my needs before, so I just need a job. I haven’t really thought of anything beyond that.”
“I see,” Iago said. “Very well. You are most welcome here, Neia.”
“…really?”
“Really,” Iago smiled. “As I said, whoever was responsible for your dismissal is surely a fool. I owe your father much, besides.”
Was it really alright? Some noise about exploiting connections to get a job as being unfair to everyone else buzzed through her head. After what had happened with the Holy Order, however, she found it surprisingly easy to not care.
“In that case,” Neia said, “I thought I’d fit in doing the same thing I was doing before, except with just your property.”
“That makes sense,” Iago nodded. “This Iago will put together a new company of ranchers for you to lead. They’ll all be men, however. Is that alright with you?”
“It was mostly like that during the war, as well, so I don’t mind. But is that alright? I don’t have any experience as a rancher…”
“You inherited your father’s talent as a Ranger, and we are all Rangers, yes? At least that’s what Pavel always said.”
She did recall him saying something like that. While her father was a Ranger who focused on archery and specialised against Demihumans, the Holy Kingdom’s ranchers were Rangers that focused on mounted combat and specialised in dealing with beasts. When it came to the army, he always insisted that ranchers, hunters, and foresters be assigned to his squad.
“What about the men assigned to the company?” Neia asked, “Won’t they resent a new person put on top of them? Plus, I’m a girl…”
“Nonsense,” Iago waved his hand dismissively. “Who would complain about being led by a war hero? And if any man voices their discontent about being led by a woman, there are a thousand others who would gladly take his place. After they beat some sense into him, of course.”
A war hero.
A stinging sensation suddenly blurred her vision. The people on top may have easily discarded her for their own convenience, but there were others who still appreciated her efforts. She scrubbed the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand and found Iago wearing a troubled look.
“Ah, now is not the time to be crying,” he said. “If anyone comes in and sees this, they will think I have done something terrible.”
“I-I’m sorry, Mister Lousa.”
“Half of the villa has already finished construction. Furnishings are sparse, but feel free to use any of the open suites. There are baths as well, but the plumbing isn’t done and you’ll still have to draw water for them. Ah – if you need any equipment, let the artisans in the camp know.”
“Are you sure this is alright?” Neia fidgeted, “I don’t have much money–”
Iago raised a hand to wave away her concerns again.
“It’s like that for everyone. Money has become so crazy recently that everyone in the country has given up on it. We pay for everything with labour now. Or barter for goods. It is the best thing about living in the country, hm? We have nearly everything we need – it is only a matter of getting it to where it needs to go.”
“Thank you, Mister Lousa,” Niea lowered her head.
The man came forward and took her by the shoulders.
“Please, none of the bowing and bobbing of heads. I have gotten far too much of it since the messenger came from Hoburns. Also, about that…you do not hate me, do you? For your father’s title…”
Neia looked into the shorter man’s dark eyes. He was worried about that? She had been so thoroughly wound up in her own problems that she hadn’t noticed.
“Of course not,” she came up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “I’m sure that my father wouldn’t mind. And better you than some snooty Noble from the south. Thank you so much for helping me out – I’ll do my best to help make everything work here.”
For better or worse, her old life was over. She had to move forward and make the most of what she had.
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