Extra-Extra Story: Electra’s Diary, Entry 2

Extra-Extra Story:
Electra’s Diary
Entry 2

 

APEGUT VILLAGE is even more desolate than I expected.

The village chief Alexandricia, governor of the area, is a woman who clearly came up through the ranks of the military. She looks like a noble. And, well…that’s it. The village is nothing but potato fields as far as the eye can see, dotted with villagers out working them. Scatter in herders caring for pigs or sheep and some goblin woodcutters. They told me the settlements in Apegut got attacked by wyverns all the time, but I was starting to find that hard to believe.

“I know that look. You’re surprised at how gutted the village appears,” the village chief said, looking me up and down, taking the measure of me.

Apparently she’d overheard me discussing my read of the place: that the village was more of an undeveloped backwater than I could’ve even imagined.

“Ah, I thought the village seemed like a nice place to live.”

“I was just thinking how lucky I am to be able to help out here, too,” Dyson chimed in.

We scrambled to snap to attention, but it was too late. We shouldn’t have said anything.

The village chief lowered herself leisurely into her chair and gazed imperiously at us. The look on her face was terrifying. “I commend you on your keen observations. This village is indeed a backwater at the outer reaches of the kingdom. Our land bears potatoes, lumber, furs, wyverns, and nothing more. You were invited here with the intention of hunting the last.”

The village chief punctuated this by rising to her feet and gazing up at the stuffed wyvern head that adorned the back wall of her office and, at last, she told us that story.

The way Gimul described it, six hunters lost their lives to a wyvern who launched an assault on the village back in the spring, and the adventurers who came from town had been less than useless. In the end, that buck-naked guy Shooter and long-eared Nishka put a stop to it, but the village must have taken heavy losses before it was all over.

“Y-you can rely on us,” Dyson butted in. “If there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s my strength. I’ll cleave right through a wyvern’s neck with my trusty broadax! You with me, Electra?”

“Y-yeah! I am but a lowly adventurer. I owe you a great debt for taking me on. I will gladly be your shield and sword to protect you at all costs!”

Dyson fumbled his lines in his rush to sell himself to the village chief. Then he glanced at me, begging me to say something too, and I totally flubbed it too. If I let it slip that I’d only come to the village looking for a steady job and a nice guy to marry, I wouldn’t blame the village chief for striking me down right then and there. She was a noble lady who had served in the military, after all.

“Ah ha ha! After such glorious introductions, I’m sorry to say that for the time being, the only work I can offer you is to serve as my bodyguard.”

“Your bodyguard…?”

“That’s right.” The village chief grinned and took a step toward us. She clapped her hands on our shoulders. “There are quite a few in the village who know how to handle a weapon. I want you to go where I go and just act like you’re watching my back.”

We were bewildered. Here I was, worried that she expected me to be a meat shield for her against a wyvern. Deep down, I’d been scolding myself for naïve my dreams of marriage.

After offering that glimpse of her trust in us, the village chief started talking about Shooter, and bubbled over with a girlish laugh. “You can leave the wyvern to our naked warrior. I have other plans for you two.”

Dyson and I looked at each other and whispered, “What does that mean?”

 

***

 

The village had about five warriors total.

First there was me—and I had a bit of confidence in my personal combat skills. The rest were men, headed up by the village chief’s stepson, Gimul. All the rest were total amateurs, even if they did carry swords.

“When you say warriors…you mean these men?” I asked Gimul.

“That’s right.”

“Have they been through serious training here in the village?”

“Nope.”

“And you want me to teach them how to use a sword?”

“Yes.”

“There aren’t a few heartier men among the farmers?”

“No.”

“I actually think hunters, or maybe people used to doing odd jobs, could be honed into decent warriors.”

“No.”

This goddamn guy. No matter how carefully I worded my suggestions, I received flat, one-word answers.

The young men gathered there were all the sons of wealthy families in the village, and since they’d been born to riches, they were utterly incapable of actual farm work. They were warriors in name only. No guts, no physical strength. But they were part of the village leadership, so these scrawny, primping nobles were allowed to carry swords.

Gimul was more solidly built than most people, but he relied on his brute strength to wield a sword. Even he didn’t compare to the military-trained village chief.

I did my best.

“Why don’t you move the way I tell you to, worms? You have to throw your entire body at these straw dummies if you ever want to hit someone with your sword! I told you, you can’t just flail your arms around!”

Since they were rank amateurs, I had to start by teaching them how to hold their swords and do practice swings. I thought they were getting used to handling their weapons, but then they started timidly jabbing at the straw dummies. Not a single one of them managed to land a solid blow. Not one.

I was speechless.

I kept working with them, but I couldn’t help wondering if Shooter had really come from this village. If the villagers had gotten training from him, I would have expected at least some of them to be better at handling a sword.

“You’re talking about Shooter?” one of them panted. “We found him wandering around the forest. He was lost. He’s actually the descendant of a tribe that glorifies nudity. He only got here recently.”

“I see. So as strong as Shooter is, he hasn’t had any time to teach these worthless rich boys.”

“Right.”

“Are you lumping me in with the worthless rich boys?” Gimul muttered.

I ignored him. I was following the village chief’s orders to provide warrior training, but I had absolutely no idea when these guys would ever become serviceable.

They were young, and all were the sons of wealthy farmers, so I might have considered them as husbands, but not a single one of them appealed to me.

Dyson didn’t have as much personal combat experience as I did, so he was in charge of the physical-fitness training side of things. But we alternated teaching days with bodyguard duty, and today was his day.

To be perfectly honest, I think being in charge of the bodybuilding training was easier. The types of people who want to be adventurers or mercenaries have specific goals in mind, like getting rich or making a name for themselves, and that makes them dedicated. But this group of guys could be haughty decision-makers in the village without having to lift a finger. In a few years, they would simply hand the role of warrior off to some other kids. I didn’t know what the village chief was thinking by providing physical training and making them learn to use a sword, but at least it was a way to kill time.

Shooter could’ve taken on all these guys at once and still beat them.

One day I caught sight of sunlight reflecting off a bald head and realized Dyson was approaching. He was so huge that I could see him even far away. He was escorting the village chief to come check on us.

“Looks like you’re doing good things here, Electra,” she observed.

“Thank you, ma’am. As you ordered, I’m teaching them how to handle a sword, but I’m not sure they’re actually learning anything. They’re as weak-kneed as ever and they still get out of breath taking just one lap around the pasture.”

I’d established myself in the village well enough to feel comfortable talking this way to the village chief. But when she sent Dyson on to inspect the clay mine and forge, he moved away behind her then covertly shot me a resigned look, as if to say that it was no use to complain.

“That’s good enough. As long as they can put on a show. The villagers are watching, after all. Since we live out on the frontier, we need to take in immigrants from time to time. That can lead to some disagreements between the old and new residents, so it’s a good idea for these boys to learn a little swordplay.”

“How have you handled things up ’til now?”

“I’ve been able to lead a village this size well enough on my own. There was an epidemic here ten years ago, so we weren’t able to attract many new settlers at that time. We focused on managing the territory instead. It takes money to expand territory, and we didn’t have the resources to take people in. But now, we’re growing.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Here, let me see one of those swords,” the village chief said with a smile. She drew closer and snatched up a sword from one of the young village elites, who had been driven to his knees in one of the exercises. She stepped smoothly over to stand before one of the straw dummies.

“Now watch closely, boys. This is how you use a sword!”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the village chief swung herself into a wide-legged stance and instantly lunged forward despite the dress she wore, her body taut with power. Her fluid movements were as magnificent as you would expect from a woman trained in the king’s army. She slashed the target, then rapidly pulled the sword back and jabbed out again with a quick follow-up.

She sliced right through the straw dummy’s abdomen, so she had to thrust the sword back through the top half of the dummy as it tumbled toward the ground.

Dyson and I just gaped for a moment. Then we lavished our admiration on her as she withdrew her sword.

“Whoaaa! You’re amazing, ma’am!”

“You’re much better with a sword than me!”

“What, that? Ha! That was nothing.”

The village’s warriors were useless and timid, but this wasn’t just any remote outpost on the borderlands! They had Shooter, they had Nishka, and they had…her. Hot damn.

“I haven’t practiced in a long time,” she mused. “I suppose it was all right. I’m better with a spear, but of course, I sold off the magic spear the king awarded me.” The village chief said it quite casually, but that was anything but expected.

The village chief turned and walked away from us. Once she’d left, one of the young elites said, “Our village chief is something else.”

That set Gimul to bragging about her. “Would you expect anything less? If you ever oppose my stepmother, she’ll do what she did to that dummy to you.”

 

I no longer understood why the village chief had ordered me to play at being a soldier like this. Some piece of the puzzle was missing. Maybe…did she want to kick up a war with the neighboring villages?

 

***

 

A while after Shooter got back to the village, the village chief put a stop to the warrior lessons she had ordered. “There’s no point any longer.”

This was a little after we sighted the tribe of bull-kin by the lake in the woods. Wak’wakwhatever, the goblin leader of the hunters, and I were scouting the area when we found their footprints.

The village chief ordered Shooter and Nishka to sneak in and assess the bull-kin colony, but they were far more culturally advanced than we assumed. Suddenly, we were on the brink of war.

Diplomacy looked like it was going to be tough, but then the illustrious folks on both sides reached a decision peacefully. The minotaurs agreed to become vassals of the village chief, so she didn’t need her diaper-bound rich-kid warriors anymore.

“Besides, training these little snots is hopeless. We’ve got a good number of adventurers together now to balance them out, so I decided to let the kids off the hook. Now that we can mobilize bull-kin soldiers, it would be foolish not to use them.”

“I agree, that’s an excellent idea. Since Shooter has been appointed to a knighthood, he can take care of the rest.”

Speaking of unsuccessful ideas, just look at me considering Shooter a good prospect for a future marriage, ha. I mean, Shooter had his young wife Cassandra and also had a new bull-kin bride in Tanne d’Arc, not to mention the lovely young lady Elpaco as his lover. I would never get an opening.

Besides—and if I ever said this out loud, I’m sure she would probably kill me—Shooter was the village chief’s favorite pet! He was strong, he was educated, he was a perfect advisor to discuss management of the territory with. That was no doubt why she’d elevated him to knighthood—so she could keep him by her side.

And if she found out that I’d fallen for him, I might get chased out of this village right when I was starting to feel at home.

“Changing the subject…I want you to serve as my personal attendant from now on, Electra.”

“But ma’am, you have Shooter to consult with on matters of administration, and Camulla to handle guild matters. If you need a bodyguard, Dyson and I were already doing that.”

“Yes, that’s true. But now that I’ve sent Gimul off as pledge in a kinship alliance, I only have my servant Melia and the woodcutter N’aniwa at home with me. It’s a bit lonely. Even if you don’t want to be my attendant, I would still like to have you around just to talk with. What do you think?”

“How could I refuse you? If you don’t mind dealing with someone like me, I would be happy to attend to you!”

“Would you, now? Marvelous. Then stop sleeping at the adventurer’s guild and move to my manor immediately. Tonight. And if you like, I’ll even keep you company at night.”

“K-keep me…company…?” I gulped.

If things went on like they had much longer, I would rot away in this village without ever getting married, an old maid of an adventurer long past her prime. But even so, I’d never imagined that I might be the village chief’s companion in her bedchamber. There were worse fates.

The village chief’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You spend all your evenings grousing over your drinks in the mess hall of the adventurer’s guild, do you not? I have responsibilities in managing the territory, so I don’t ever take alcohol personally, but I can give you someone to talk to. I haven’t been able to leave the village in the many, many years since I married into Apegut, so I would love to hear stories about the outside world.”

“Ha ha ha…of course, yes, that’s it! Yes, that makes perfect sense.”

“Hm? Why are you so flustered? Do you need fresh air?”

“I-It’s nothing, ma’am!”

I’ve always been a talkative sort, and I can talk as long as someone is willing to listen. When I told the village chief that, she regarded me dubiously, then looked up at me. “You’re an odd one.”

And of course she was so lonely now that she was all by herself. If I could satisfy her, then I would do my utmost to keep her company. And if she deigned to open up to me, I could handle anything. Even tears—anything!