Chapter 13 - The Efforts of Arveil, Retainer of the Marquess House (Part 2)
That morning, the owner of a food stall in a small city square was roasting meat and selling it sandwiched in bread, just as he always did.
Several stalls were set up in this small square, slightly removed from the center of the city where the merchant houses were located, and even at this hour of the morning, there were people seeking a meal.
Workers likely heading to their jobs and guards who seemed to have just finished their night watch lined up to buy breakfast.
The savory aroma of meat roasting over charcoal drifted through the air.
After serving several regulars, a face he didn't recognize appeared.
He had short, dark brown hair and a well-built physique despite his tired expression; he carried a longsword and a short sword at his waist.
"Business seems to be doing quite well, old man."
The customer, who ordered a meat sandwich and tea, struck up some small talk while setting down copper coins.
"Yes, thanks to you—ah, please put the payment in this wooden box here, not there.
Well, as you can see, business is booming. It's a blessing. And you?"
"I'm just a lowly mercenary, heading east.
Heard things are getting noisy over that way, you see."
I see, a mercenary, the stall owner thought with a nod of understanding.
Indeed, the hand that produced the copper coins was the hand of a man who handled weapons.
"Is it war again?"
While responding to the idle chatter, the stall owner skillfully sliced into the bread and began carving pieces from the hunk of meat roasting on the spit.
As the fat dripping from the meat hit the embers, a pleasant sizzling sound and an appetizing aroma spread.
"Seems like it.
By the way, I saw a government courier from the Administration entering the Lord's estate earlier.
He looked to be in quite a hurry—well, those courier fellows are always like that, though."
"I'd like to pray for business prosperity, but when war breaks out, the price of everything goes up and it's unbearable."
He deftly sandwiched the meat in the bread and poured tea into a copper mug from a pot warming over a separate fire.
"When you're finished with the mug, just toss it in that bucket over there."
"Ah, right there.
—Well, even if it doesn't come to war, a mercenary's livelihood increases when war is near. Pray for that instead."
"Shall we do that then, for both our sakes—here you go, thanks for your business."
The owner responded and handed over the order. As the mercenary took it and moved aside, another customer spoke to him.
It was a young man dressed like a merchant in decent clothing. He had already finished most of his own bread.
Since he was well-groomed, it didn't seem like his business was in trouble, but if he was eating in a place like this, he probably wasn't making a massive profit either.
If he were a merchant making big money, he would have been at the city's merchant house.
"That story from earlier, is it true?"
"Which one?
The bit about the east is something I heard in the Royal Capital.
I was hired from the west to guard a carriage, but it was a rather dull job. Well, even so, I earned enough travel money to head east like this."
Noticing that the mercenary's gaze was alternating between his face and the bread, the young merchant apologized, "Ah, my bad."
"Then, if you'll excuse me," the mercenary said, biting into the bread.
"Fwah, hah."
Like a vulgar mercenary, he tried to speak with his mouth full of bread. Naturally, it didn't come out as proper words.
Taking a sip of tea from the copper mug to wash it down, the mercenary spoke again.
"So, well, I heard the story from a mercenary acquaintance and decided to head this way. That fellow had just come to the Royal Capital from the east, and he said things were smelling fishy over there."
"I've heard there are skirmishes all year round, though."
"Information wouldn't reach the Royal Capital if it were just that level."
Between sentences, the mercenary skillfully brought the bread to his mouth and ate.
"Is that how it is... and the courier?"
"No, it's just as I saw it.
The Lord here—he's a Count, right? At his mansion, there was a horse wearing a government courier's caparison. He didn't gallop through the city, obviously, but from the look of him, I'd bet he rode through the night."
"Was that from the east too?"
"I wouldn't know that much; it's not like I can see the letters he's carrying."
The merchant laughed and nodded at the shrugging mercenary, saying, "Well, that's true."
"But, well, a normal courier wouldn't ride through the night. It must be some urgent news.
Well, if something's happening, there'll be movement at the merchant house too. The bigger the merchant, the more sensitive they are to such things."
"I see," the young merchant nodded, then muttered, "Right," and headed toward a small inn facing the square.
"Heading out?"
"Yeah, I'll pack my bags and head over to the merchant house for a bit."
The young merchant answered the stall owner who had asked casually.
"I don't know what kind of business it'll turn into yet, but you have to get a head start on these things."
The mercenary nodded repeatedly while eating his bread.
"Thanks for the good lead. I wish you a safe journey."
As the merchant walked away, the mercenary responded with a small wave of his hand.
"Yeah, and you, have a good trade."
Finishing the conversation and seeing the merchant off, the mercenary soon finished his bread.
He let out a sigh, drained the tea in the mug, and placed the mug in the bucket.
"Well then, old man, it was delicious."
"Yes, come again!"
The stall owner answered as usual and promptly forgot about the mercenary.
The flow of customers showed no sign of stopping, and to him, that mercenary was nothing more than a common first-time visitor.
If you set up the smoke beforehand, it looks like a massive fire when you actually light the flame, doesn't it?