The Blizzard Lord

The assassin collapsed onto the snowy ground, his head split in two. A short distance away, another assassin lay face-up in the snow, a throwing knife sticking out of his throat. There were no other enemies nearby. The young man wiped the blood off his sword and soundlessly returned it to his sheath. His name was Barnack. He came from a family of disgraced knights who’d had their lands seized, and just the other day he’d entered service into the Doneiks family.

“The battle’s over, Milord.”

Barnack turned to the middle-aged noble walking toward him. He was the younger brother of the emperor, Lord Doneiks. Though he was a masterful politician, he’d allowed his mediocre brother to take the throne. Because of that, there were many rumors that he was the real power behind the empire. And as a result, he had many enemies. Lord Doneiks brushed the snow off his coat and looked down at the assassins lying at Barnack’s feet.

“Who sent them?”

“I do not know. They were carrying nothing that might identify them.”

Barnack was a master of any weapon one could name, but he was not an investigator. After making sure the two men were well and truly dead, Lord Doneiks started rifling through their clothes.

“They’re wearing North Rolmund outfits, but they haven’t put them on right. If you wrap your scarf like this, snow can get in from the cracks and freeze your neck. Besides, anyone who has metal hilts for their weapons is asking to get frostbite this far north.”

“That certainly is unnatural.”

Barnack kept a wary eye on his surroundings even as he turned toward his master. Lord Doneiks smiled at him, his breath misting in front of him.

“A half-assed disguise provides more evidence than no disguise at all. Whoever these men were, they didn’t want their identities known. Meaning they cannot have brought many allies with them.”

Lord Doneiks picked a bow off the ground and tested its string. He then examined the arrows in the quiver.

“This is a good bow. But it lacks the power to fell large game like giant deer.”

Giant deer only inhabited the frigid fringes of North Rolmund. They had thick pelts, thicker fat, and were larger than horses. In order to hunt one, it was necessary to use a massive longbow, or a very powerful crossbow. However, the assassin’s bow was not that large.

“This is a warbow. More suited to sniping people than animals,” Barnack said.

“Indeed. So while the enemy took great pains to disguise themselves, they didn’t disguise their bows. Or perhaps they couldn’t. Because they were unused to using North Rolmund’s bows. Meaning these men were not hunters, but soldiers.”

Lord Doneiks dropped the bow onto the ground and covered it with snow.

“Hide the bodies and their equipment, Barnack. Then turn your cloak inside-out.”

“Yes, Milord.”

The dead were returned to the snow, while the living were covered by the white undersides of their cloaks. Both the living and the dead blended into the white background, disappearing from view.

The calendar of the Holy Rolmund Empire had a season known as fullwinter. It was the few coldest months in the year, and also the season where men of Rolmund proved their might by hunting large game. Because of the cold, it was the season with the least amount of animals to hunt, and the season that food was needed the most. So men competed to see how much meat they could bag to prove their worth. Nobles were no exception, either. But the game nobles hunted was much bigger. Giant deer were the most valuable prize one could bag during the fullwinter hunting season.

Lord Doneiks had been invited on a hunt by his cousin, Lord Kinitoff. It was there, at his hunting grounds, that Lord Doneiks had been attacked by assassins. Though his loyal retainer Barnack had barely managed to fend them off, the two of them were isolated deep in the forest.

“Kinitoff’s always been a simple man.” Lord Doneiks smiled sadly as he walked through the snow. “He actually thinks such slipshod tactics will be enough to prevent him from being exposed.”

“I realize Master Kinitoff is your main political rival, but I never imagined he’d attempt something as reckless as assassination.”

“Indeed. But the problem with fools is they’re unpredictable.”

“If only I’d predicted this sooner, I would have assigned more guards to you.”

Barnack kept a wary eye to his rear as he spoke with his master. Lord Doneiks smiled at him and replied, “No need to apologize. It’s precisely because I predicted this that I brought only you along to guard me, Barnack.”

Surprised, Barnack turned back to his master.

“Why would you do something so dangerous?”

Lord Doneiks wiped the snow off his cap and accelerated his pace.

“If I brought too many guards along with me, Kinitoff would grow wary. My foolish cousin is obsessed with the crown. I have no doubt he’ll eventually bare his fangs at my brother.” He turned back to look at Barnack. “It would be dangerous if he struck at a time in the future when my position is less secure. Which is why I purposely showed an opening to lure him into striking now.”

“That’s far too dangerous, Milord! The only guard you brought along was me, someone who’s barely been in your service for a few days!”

At that, Lord Doneiks guffawed.

“That’s rich, coming from you. But you are correct. However, the only way I could be sure Kinitoff would strike was if I brought only a single, recently-employed guard. Regardless of whether or not that lone guard was the renowned Sword Saint Ser Barnack.”

“I’m no Sword Saint. I’m just an inexperienced soldier.”

“How many ‘inexperienced soldiers’ could weave their way between the attacks of two snipers—on uneven, snowy footing no less—and take them down with just a sword?”

“The sword style I studied under, the Sashimael style, has produced exemplary swordsmen like Draulight. Compared to him, my arrow-cutting and knife-throwing skills are a far cry from the true Sword Saint.”

“In that case, I’m looking forward to the day you show me the skills of a true Sword Saint.”

Lord Doneiks smiled happily and resumed marching through the snow.

The two of them managed to escape their surviving pursuers and reach the center of the hunting grounds. Unlike the maintained areas around Kinitoff’s castle, these woods were full of dangerous creatures like wolves and bears.

“Milord, are you sure you want to go this way? I can’t protect you all by myself. We need to rendezvous with your other guards.”

There were around 20 of Lord Doneiks’ guards waiting at the cabin near the entrance of the hunting grounds. All of them were veteran fighters. But Lord Doneiks sat down on a nearby boulder and shook his head.

“That’s what Kinitoff’s expecting us to do. I have no doubt that he’s set up a large-scale ambush somewhere along the path back to the cabin.”

“Perhaps so, but this deep into the mountains we’ll be killed by beasts and the cold before the assassins even find us.”

Barnack was a master of fighting, but he was hardly an outdoorsman. Lord Doneiks pulled a map out of his pocket and pointed a few spots out to Barnack in the dimming light.

“From here, we’ll cross the mountains. My army’s waiting on standby for me beyond them. Officially they’re just returning from a routine drill, but they know we’re coming.”

“Beyond the mountains!?”

Barnack gazed up at the towering, jet-black spires jutting out of the earth in the distance.

“That’s impossible! The route’s long enough that we’d have to camp in the wild. And in this weather, camping in the open with our equipment will mean death!”

“Indeed. This season is not one suited to camping out.” Lord Doneiks chewed on a piece of jerky and took a swig from his canteen. “Which is precisely why Kinitoff won’t expect us to take this route.”

“But...”

Even if Milord is doing this to outmaneuver Lord Kinitoff, this is just suicidal. But as much as Barnack wanted to tell his master that, he could tell from Lord Doneiks’ expression that he wouldn’t be deterred. The lord offered Barnack some dried meat and his canteen.

“Sounds fun, don’t you think?”

“Not in the slightest.” Flustered, the young knight still gratefully took the meat and water. “But a few days ago, you saved my life and my honor. So now it is my turn to protect your life and your honor, Milord.”

Though he doubted the practicality of this idea, Barnack nevertheless found himself intrigued. Protecting his master from an unknown score of enemies, the cold bite of fullwinter, and vicious beasts was the most worthwhile mission he could ask for. Even if it was normally too much for a single retainer to accomplish.

“I must admit, if a situation like this does not get your blood boiling, you aren’t a true knight.”

“Exactly, see? The reason I initially saved your life was because I saw in you the mettle of a true knight. And I don’t just mean your skill with the sword.”

Lord Doneiks’ looked as calm and unshakable as always. Seeing his master’s confidence, Barnack began to calm down as well. As if I’ll perish here! As Barnack steeled himself, he suddenly felt very excited to tackle this challenge. On second thought, this does sound a little fun. The young knight took a swing from the canteen as well.

Lord Doneiks and Barnack began trekking through the snowy mountains. As they walked, Lord Doneiks told Barnack a story.

“According to history, the slave swordsman Draulight crossed the southern mountains in fullwinter during his escape. Not only that, but he led a huge party of malnourished slaves with him. Almost none of them died, and the survivors established a country called Meraldia far to the south.”

“I’ve heard.”

“What’s important is that his story proves crossing the mountains in fullwinter is possible. And these northern mountains are barely more than hills compared to the southern peaks. We should be able to manage.”

“You may be right there.”

Barnack was running out of energy to argue back with his far too eager master. Realizing his bodyguard was no longer contradicting him, Doneiks continued.

“I’ve gathered as many documents as I can in my quest to discover how Draulight did what he did. And to my surprise, I’ve found that he actually left behind a manual detailing how to escape for the slaves he left behind. I’ve read through the entirety of this manual in case a situation like this ever happened.”

“How long ago was that?”

“I discovered the manual in my teens. But it took many more years to determine the veracity of the manual. Now though, I can tell you for a fact every word in it is true. Draulight had been a fearsome man. Just where had he come from, though?”

While Lord Doneiks’ curiosity had been piqued by Draulight’s tale, the real reason he’d put so much time into researching it was because of his prudence and foresight. Normally the emperor’s younger brother wouldn’t even consider the possibility that they’d have to imitate Draulight’s feat. But Lord Doneiks had prepared for any and every eventuality. His caution was so excessive that to Barnack, it was almost terrifying. The young knight watched as his master powered his way up the mountain slope.

“I had always thought mountain climbing was a skill that required more brawn than brain, but after reading Draulight’s manual I realized that knowledge is essential to survival. Knowing how to read a mountain’s geography, being able to predict the weather, and knowing what breathing techniques to use and what clothes to bring can make all the difference.”

A sudden realization hit Barnack.

“Does that mean the reason you gave me that underwear yesterday was because...”

“Precisely. The reason I gave you wool underwear was because I expected we’d be marching through the mountains today. Cotton and cloth get easily soaked by snow and sweat, making them unsuited for the cold. But wool is different. Even when wet, it helps retain warmth.”

“Unbelievable...”

As Barnack marveled at his master’s foresight, Lord Doneiks continued his explanation.

“The food you bring with you is vital as well.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well you see, you need bread, sweets, water, and fat to keep your strength up. Here, have some of this.”

Lord Doneiks offered Barnack a sugar cube. Sugar cubes were made from refined sugar beets cultivated in East Rolmund, and were highly expensive.

“Are you sure I can have this?”

“If you don’t eat it, your body won’t last. Even the Sword Saint can’t help me if he’s too weak to move, right?”

“Thank you for your generosity.”

Still half-doubting that a mere sugar cube would give him much energy, Barnack bit down on it. The sweetness spread across his tongue, and he suddenly felt a jolt of energy run through him. Next, Lord Doneiks pulled out a small, wrapped parcel.

“Eat this next.”

“What’s this?”

“Lard. I swiped it from the kitchens earlier. Sweets and fat are the two best foods to take with you on a long mountain climb. They’re highly nourishing, even in small quantities.”

“I see...”

“Salt is important as well, so I seasoned the lard with it. That’ll also make it easier to stomach.”

“Is that so?”

Barnack pulled a face as he stuffed himself full of salted lard. The seasoning didn’t make it all that much more palatable. Lard was the kind of thing you spread lightly on bread, not ate plain.

“Milord, do you have any more sugar? I think I need a palate cleanser.”

“You bet I do. Make sure you eat all of it.”

Barnack silently sighed, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

Meanwhile, Lord Kinitoff was panicking.

“You can’t find him!? Are you sure he hasn’t tried to return here!?”

“Yes, sir. However, we did find the corpses of two of our assassins buried in the snow.”

“Who cares about that!? Hurry up and off that bastard Zweinei already!”

“Yes, sir!”

The scouts lost their opportunity to explain to their lord the significance of the corpses they’d found, and were forced to bow and leave. Lord Kinitoff looked back at the Doneiks manor. Twenty of Lord Doneiks’ best guards had been protecting it. They’d fought to the death for their master, and Lord Kinitoff was forced to bring an army of 100 to finally subjugate the manor. And of the 100 he’d brought with him, 40 died in the fierce fighting inside it. His losses were staggering.

“With how hard they fought, I was sure he was holing up inside the manor, but... Goddamnit, where did you go!?”

Though Lord Doneiks’ guards had all died, they’d succeeded in wasting Lord Kinitoff’s time, and slowing his pursuit. Lord Kinitoff glanced about wildly, holding his sword in a white-knuckle grip.

“That man is dangerous... We can’t afford to give him any time. If we don’t end him quickly, he’ll be the one baring his fangs at us! Hurry! Comb every inch of the hunting grounds if you have to!”

Around that time, Lord Doneiks was busy building with snow.

“What do you think? I tried to model it in the old republic style.”

“Is that so?”

Lord Doneiks packed in the last brick of snow into his snow hut. It was so small that the two men could barely fit inside it.

“Originally their snow huts had entrance halls and staircases, but we don’t have time for that so I kept it simple. I can’t make it any bigger either, or the cold will sneak in through the gaps.”

“Milord, the sun will set soon.”

“Then I guess I finished just in time. You keep watch outside, Barnack. I’ll prepare our dinner.”

“Dinner!?”

Barnack couldn’t tell if his lord had nerves of steel, or was just a fool. He stroked his sheath and sighed to himself.

“Milord, I cannot fathom what it is you’re attempting to do.”

“Food and rest are important enough that they’re worth risking our pursuers catching up to us. That’s all there is to it.”

After a few attempts, Lord Doneiks succeeded in starting a fire inside their hut. Barnack did his best to block as much light from the fire as possible, and looked up at the hut’s ceiling.

“If we’re attacked here, even I won’t be able to save us.”

“Don’t worry, the only thing nearby is snow. And this little castle of ours is made of snow too. You can’t even spot it from a distance. Besides, there’s going to be a blizzard tonight. Not even hunting dogs will be able to find our scent in that.”

“Are you sure there’ll be a blizzard?”

“In my time studying strategy, I also learned how to read mountain weather. I can guarantee you that there’ll be a fierce blizzard tonight. More importantly, the snow in our cups has finally melted. Drink up while the water’s still hot.”

Barnack sighed sadly as he picked up the cup of water Lord Doneiks had melted with a lit candle.

“I was wondering what the fire was for... But why melt the snow when we can just eat it as is?”

Lord Doneiks shook his head, his expression serious.

“No matter what happens, don’t do that. If you let the core of your body grow cold, you’re done for.”

“I see...”

A certain percentage of Rolmund’s serfs were exempted from military service, so there was no need for nobles to wait for after the harvest to start wars, since there’d still be enough serfs left to grow crops. Winter campaigns were harsh, so most battles took place in the time from spring to fall. Furthermore, by fighting wars during the planting season, generals could strategically target their enemies’ farms and starve their opponent out through the winter.

All of this meant that Barnack, like most other nobles, was unused to spending the winters outdoors. In fact, the only people who were used to it were hunters who specialized in fullwinter hunts. Which was why Barnack found it odd that Lord Doneiks was so knowledgeable about winter camping.

“You really know everything, don’t you Milord?”

“If there’s something my enemies know that I don’t, that puts me at a fatal disadvantage. So I’ve made it my goal to learn as much as possible. That’s all there is to it.”

Lord Doneiks sounded neither proud nor embarrassed of his stance. He spoke of it as if it were just a matter of fact.

“Now then, let’s sleep while we can. The snow’s already started coming down outside.”

“How do you...”

Barnack parted the cloak they’d used as a tent flap to look outside and saw that the wind was indeed beginning to pick up. On top of that, small snowflakes were beginning to fall to the ground.

“This is definitely going to become a blizzard,” Barnack muttered.

“Yep. Anyone wandering around outside right now will definitely freeze to death. Assuming our pursuers aren’t morons, they’ll wait for the blizzard to stop before continuing the chase.”

“But what if they manage to reach us anyway?”

Lord Doneiks rolled over and replied merrily, “Then you and I will die here. But the empire will persevere.”

Barnack’s jaw dropped open in shock, but his fearless master had already fallen asleep and was breathing deeply. This is one hell of a noble I’ve sworn my services to.

The next morning, Barnack awoke before the sun rose.

“You up?”

“Yes, Milord.”

Before he could even work through his surprise that Lord Doneiks had awoken before him, the lord handed Barnack a lump of lard and a sugar cube, as well as some meltwater.

“The blizzard’s stopped. And the sun will rise soon. Our pursuers will catch up before long.”

“Then let us be away as soon as possible. We should be able to scale the mountain today.”

Barnack quickly washed the sugar and lard down with a glass of water. However, Lord Doneiks slowly shook his head.

“If there are any pursuers still on our trail, then they’re masters of their craft. If they’re just average trackers, then they’ll have given up and told Kinitoff that I probably died in the blizzard.”

True, if I was our pursuers I would have thought we couldn’t have survived that blizzard either. As Lord Doneiks belted on his sword he added, “If we reach my army with our pursuers hot on our heels, they’ll know I have a force here and we’ll lose the element of surprise.”

“So what should we do then?”

Lord Doneiks smiled thinly.

“We take care of the fun part all by ourselves. You’re fit to fight, right?”

“As a warrior, I am always ready to fight no matter the situation.”

Barnack patted his prized sword and puffed his chest out. To his surprise, he found he was enjoying this almost as much as Lord Doneiks.

The trackers silently pursued their quarry in the predawn light. Though they’d lost two of their number, they still had ten men left. Each of those ten men were veteran assassins who’d survived hundreds of battles, too. They’d brought with them two hunting dogs. They moved forward in one long horizontal line, constantly signaling to each other as they scoured every inch of the mountain slope.

“The only way Lord Doneiks could have survived that massive blizzard last night was by finding a place to hole up.”

“Indeed. And there are few places on this mountain suitable to lay camp. If it were you, which spot would you choose?”

One of the trackers pointed to a boulder jutting out from a nearby cliff.

“There. There’s a deep snowdrift there which is perfect for making a snow hut out of. And unlike other boulders, this one’s sturdy enough that there’s no need to fear avalanches.”

“For once I agree with you on something. Alright, let’s check that spot out first.”

“Sure.”

The assassins split into two groups to pincer the boulder. They approached cautiously, using the surrounding forest for cover. But before they even reached the boulder one of the assassins shouted, “Beware, crossbow!”

Everyone dropped to the ground, and a moment later there was a loud thud as something embedded itself in one of the trees. A second later, the assassins spotted movement near the boulder.

“That’s a deer-felling crossbow. Look, it’s got way more power than normal.”

The assassin pointed to the thick arrow lodged deep inside the tree trunk. A crossbow needed enough power to nearly bore through a tree if it wanted to deal any significant damage to a giant deer.

“This is gonna be tough.”

“Yeah. The wind’s blowing down from the mountain, too. Our shortbows are a lot less powerful than theirs too.”

The assassins had chosen their bows for their portability, high rate of fire, and ease of use. Unfortunately, that backfired on them here.

“But there’s nowhere around that boulder for us to hide. What should we do?”

“There’s only one thing to do. Overwhelm them with our numbers.”

The assassin who spoke tossed his bow to the ground and drew his sword.

“There’s two of them, and ten of us. Not only that, but crossbows take time to reload. Even if the enemy hits every shot they take, half of us will still be able to reach the boulder.”

The assassin’s leader, an older man with white in his hair stroked his beard and replied, “I’ve heard the knight protecting Lord Doneiks, Barnack, is even more skilled than we are. However, Lord Doneiks himself is not a warrior. If we ignore Barnack and focus solely on Lord Doneiks, we should be able to complete our mission, even if it costs all of us our lives.”

The assassin’s comrades nodded in agreement. In order to relay his orders to the other group that was out of sight, the assassin took out a deer whistle. It blew notes similar to that of a female deer’s cry, and originally it was meant to be used to lure male deer in for the hunt. But the assassins also used the whistles to communicate. The assassin leader gave the order to charge.

“Go!”

The assassins shed their food packs and heavy coats as they ran, lightening their burdens. But just then, they heard a faint metallic scraping from the depths of the forest behind them. It was the sound of a sword hitting a sword. There was only one thing this could mean.

“Barnack’s circled around behind us! He must be fighting Granf’s squad!”

“There’s no point in helping him! Keep running!”

“In fact, this will make it even easier for us to take down Lord Doneiks!”

The assassins decided to let their comrades deal with Barnack while they continued sprinting up the slope.

“Wai—”

Someone tried to shout out a warning, but then thudded to the ground. The remaining assassins reflexively turned around and saw— “Barnack!”

“What!?”

Lord Doneiks’ sole guard, Barnack, was standing behind them. Except he should have been fighting with the assassin’s comrades in another part of the forest. Had he somehow managed to kill the four assassins in the other group and make it all the way here in so short a time?

“I-Impossible!”

Barnack dashed up the mountain slope, then leapt off the trunk of a nearby tree. He sailed through the dawn air with his sword drawn, and when he landed one of the assassins had lost their head. Blood spurted from their decapitated trunk, dyeing the snow crimson.

“Is this guy even human!?” the surprised leader of the assassins shouted.

“Hage and I will take care of him! The rest of you keep running!”

“Aye!”

Of the remaining four assassins, the older two turned to face Barnack while the younger two continued running up the slope. Though the older assassins had no hope of keeping up with the younger ones when it came to speed, their swords were much deadlier. For once, Barnack hesitated to charge. Instead he watched the two men warily, waiting for an opening.

“I see, so you’re the Sword Saint Ser Barnack. To think you would fare so well even against Lord Kinitoff’s elite assassins.”

Barnack kept his sword raised and didn’t answer the assassin leader. His weapon was covered in blood and gristle, both of which were quickly starting to freeze in the dawn chill. There was no doubt that his sword’s edge had been dulled thanks to his previous fights. The other assassin slowly closed in on Barnack and said, “Even the famed lightning cuts of the Sashimael style can’t strike in two places at once, can they?”

He was trying to buy time by provoking Barnack into an unwise rush. Normally, warriors didn’t speak to their opponents. Barnack had already figured out the assassin’s intentions, and thus didn’t rise to the taunts. He steadied his breathing and gauged the distance between him and his enemies.

“You really are an impressive warrior. It’s a shame we have to kill you.”

“Yeah, it really is...”

The assassins’ grinned at Barnack, and he smiled faintly back at them. That served as the signal to start, and all three men swung their swords at once. The clang of metal against metal echoed through the dim forest, but the sounds didn’t last long. The two assassins had already lost. One had been slain instantly, while the leader had suffered a fatal cut to the chest. Barnack had dashed with all his might toward the weaker of the two assassins, and slain him in less than a second. From there he’d been able to force the leader into a one-on-one situation, whom he’d defeated with a well-placed thrust.

“I don’t believe it... You’re as strong as those werewolves they talk about in legends...”

As the assassin leader fell to his knees, he smiled fearlessly. Blood dripping from his lips, he muttered, “But despite your strength, were you able to save your master?”

As he slumped to the ground, the assassin watched Barnack wordlessly run up toward the boulder.

“Milord!”

Upon reaching the boulder, Barnack found Lord Doneiks standing silently in the snow. Two assassins lay on the ground, blood pooling underneath them.

“Did...you do this, Milord!?”

“That I did, Barnack.”

Lord Doneiks casually wiped the blood from his sword and offered a brief prayer for the two dead assassins.

“It’s a shame to lose young talent like these two. Had they been my subordinates, I would never have let them die like this.”

“More importantly, Milord, how were you able to defeat two assassins of this caliber on your own...”

“It wasn’t hard. I just lured them closer, then shot the faster one down with my crossbow.” Lord Doneiks’ white breath puffed out in front of him as he spoke in panting gasps. “Because they weren’t in sync, I was able to take them on one by one. The second one had needed to exert himself to keep up with the first, so he was out of breath by the time he reached me. That dulled his movements enough for me to beat him.”

Even if the assassin had been out of breath, only a first-rate warrior would have been able to defeat someone of his caliber. Noticing Barnack’s questioning gaze, Lord Doneiks sheathed his sword and quietly muttered, “It’s quite helpful to pretend as though I don’t know how to use a blade.”

“Really?”

“Really. I only stood a chance because my opponents underestimated me. And even then, I wouldn’t have survived if there had been a third.”

“I see.”

It certainly was true that the assassins had lost because they’d underestimated their foe. Barnack could tell just from the way they’d died. One had been cut diagonally down, while the other had a crossbow bolt in his back.

“I see you are not only an excellent swordsman, but also an excellent archer, Milord.”

Lord Doneiks fell silent for a moment, then smiled wanly at Barnack.

“Kinitoff taught me how to shoot when I was young. At this very hunting ground, in fact.”

“Is that so?” Realizing the atmosphere had grown awkward, Barnack quickly tried to change the subject. “Regardless, this plan was still far too dangerous. Had I run away, or died in battle, what would you have done?”

“I accurately judged your loyalty and martial skill, and you rewarded the trust placed in you. The two of us are still alive right now because of that. That’s all there is to it.”

“I can’t believe...”

Barnack was nonplussed. If you’re going to put that much faith in me, how could I possibly betray you? I wouldn’t be a knight if I did.

“Milord.”

“Yes?”

“The next time you plan to do something this reckless, make sure you take me with you. Am I understood?”

“But of course.”

Master and servant looked into each other’s eyes, then broke down laughing.

“Alright, now it’s time for our counterattack. I know my brother hates to see his relatives fight amongst each other, but I’m sure he’ll see why I have to do this now. It’s time we met up with my army and buried this accursed place under the snow.”

“Yes, sir.”

The next evening, Lord Kinitoff’s body was discovered on a mountain far from his hunting grounds. Imperial records claim that he got lost while hunting and was killed by a wild bear.