Chapter 4

Before they knew it, harvest season had passed and winter had arrived. Seen in broad strokes, the changing seasons were much like a human life. Everyone had a time to grow, to bloom in full, to ripen, and then to grow cold.

The seasons of Ricard's life were changing. It was only the beginning, but a change was a change.

In the pitch-black night, part of House Kaldebern's manor in Stormhertz was still lit. From a distance, light could be seen spilling from two windows. And, at odds with the silent hour, a woman's agonized scream rang through the manor.

"Aaaaaaah! Uhhh..."

In the corridor outside the illuminated birthing room, Graut stood in his nightclothes, anxiously rubbing his chin. Abelich kept silent vigil beside him.

At the end of the corridor, two boys watched from the darkness, holding hands. They were Bilter and Ricard.

In an age when maternal and infant mortality were high, bringing a new life into the world meant risking one's own.

Bilter's face was clouded with worry and unease, though he himself did not know where those feelings came from. He could not tell whether he was holding his brother's hand to offer comfort or to receive it.

The midwife came and went several times carrying a basin full of bloody water. Then, at last, a sound burst forth as though heralding the birth of a world.

"Waaaaah!"

For once, even the taciturn Abelich could not keep his expression in check. Unable to enter the birthing room, however, he called from outside.

"Someone! Come here!"

A little later, the midwife emerged holding the baby, its cord cut and its body wrapped in cloth.

"Congratulations, my lord. A young master. The mistress is well, too."

A young master. In other words, a son.

Bilter felt that the inevitable had finally come. It was that heavy, sinking feeling, like a stone laid on his chest, when something he had wanted to ignore finally arrived. In contrast, Abelich and Graut's faces lit up.

"Riki, it's all over for us now."

"No. It's a beginning."

"Huh?"

"For the baby, for us, and for Graut, too. Father's become a grandfather, and Graut's become a father. We've become uncles. It's amazing."

Bilter turned and stared blankly at Ricard.

"Aren't you afraid? Of leaving home?"

"I'll miss it, but I don't think I'm afraid."

"... You're better than I am. I thought you were just a little kid. Then again, killing that huge boar, standing up to Father... You do have some backbone."

"And you're smart, Billy."

A chuckle escaped Bilter at his brother's words, and he roughly tousled Ricard's hair.

Bilter had a barbed word for almost everyone, but he had not always been that way. With Ricard, at least, he had always been easy and familiar despite their four-year age gap, from early childhood right up to the present. That was why Ricard thought of him less as an older brother than as a friend his own age.

"Want to sleep together tonight? It's been a while," Bilter asked.

"Why? Are you scared?"

"Stop being cheeky and go get your pillow."

Smiling as well, Ricard went to his room and fetched his pillow. Lying beneath the same blanket, they found themselves grinning mischievously for no reason at all.

They could hear the baby's lusty cries outside, but Bilter and Ricard found comfort in a time and space that belonged to the two of them. They talked about embarrassing moments, funny moments, amazing moments, and the days when Mother was alive—the memories they had built together while living here.

As time passed, the commotion outside quieted, and they drifted off to sleep, neither knowing who went first.

With an eldest son born to the eldest son, Stormhertz's succession was now secure. It also meant there was no further need for spare parts. And it was not simply that the heir's brothers were no longer needed. They were seeds that could grow into threats in the future.

Even if they did nothing wrong, even if they simply stayed put, that was how things worked in noble families.

No one pointedly made them feel unwelcome, but it was inevitable that all of Lord Abelich's attention should turn to his grandson. And not just his—the entire household and the villagers were the same.

Ricard could clearly feel the difference, even in little things. Perhaps the way to put it was that he was being somewhat neglected. Sometimes no one cared whether he had eaten. And he needed permission to see his nephew. He felt a distance between himself and his family.

Despite the winter, the whole estate was brimming with life, but Bilter and Ricard felt left out of the festive mood.

From everyone else's perspective, perhaps they were simply being cautious. Whatever their true feelings, showing attention to a younger son in these circumstances could itself cause discord or put them on the next lord's blacklist, so to speak.

Time passed with the two of them left on the margins. A month after Ricard's nephew was born, when the bitter cold was at its fiercest, Lord Abelich summoned Bilter and Ricard for a private talk. He called his two sons to a pond a short distance from the manor.

On their way there, Bilter and Ricard sensed that their father had something important to tell them.

When they arrived, they found the pond frozen solid. The surrounding trees had shed all their leaves, baring their skeletal arms. Their father stood gazing at the frozen pond, wearing a thick fur coat with a cloak draped over it. The sky was gray.

Bilter and Ricard approached him hesitantly.

"You wanted to see us?" Bilter asked.

But their father remained silent for some time, staring at the icebound pond as though he had not heard his son. All that came from him were idle sighs of white breath.

Then he abruptly said, "Someone will be coming from the main house."

By the main house, he meant the family of Count Kaldebern. The Kaldeberns of Stormhertz had branched off in the boys' great-grandfather's generation. Dividing inheritances had still been common practice then.

A noble house could have only one head, and that head decided the fate of its members: their education, their future, their marriages—even their deaths. Strictly speaking, therefore, Abelich was not the head of House Kaldebern. He merely held the position of lord and patriarch within Stormhertz.

The main house rarely interfered with Stormhertz, however. Was it because they felt a bond as blood relatives? Or did they simply have no interest?

But none of that mattered anymore, because Graut's wife came from the main house.

In other words, husband and wife shared a surname, and their marriage meant complete reunification. Blood relatives who had sprung from the same root and split into separate branches were coming together again.

Thus, even setting aside primogeniture, diplomacy dictated that Graut's son must inherit the estate, no matter what happened. All these affairs surrounding the estate and the house were pushing the sons who were not the legitimate firstborn out the door, in ways both apparent and unseen.

"The man coming from the main house is a doctor who studied at the renowned Hantz University. He will help you decide your futures. This is the most I can do for you as your father."

In truth, it was an extraordinary consideration. Sons were often packed off to distant monasteries without so much as a word.

But Bilter and Ricard did not look particularly pleased, and understandably so. Ricard, though, was blowing on his cold hands and looked as untroubled as ever.

At the sight of him, Abelich gave a faint smile and gently stroked his head.

"Let me hold you. Come here, Billy."

"Pardon?"

Abelich pulled his bewildered sons into an embrace beneath his cloak. The boys were terribly awkward and flustered, but the warmth was unmistakable. It felt different from Mother's embrace.

After holding them for a while, Abelich undid his clasp, took off his cloak, and draped it around them. Bilter and Ricard looked like an adorable monster with two heads on one body.

Abelich sat on a nearby rock and looked back at the frozen pond.

"I was fourteen when I first went into battle. I went with my father and older brother. It was terribly cold then, just as it is now. We were tasked with taking a small force on a wide flanking march to strike the enemy, but as we passed through a forest, arrows suddenly came flying at us. By the time I came to my senses, I had already fled far away. Having run, I was so ashamed that I went back to the battlefield. The wounded and the dead lay scattered everywhere. Then I came upon my father running toward me with my brother on his back, blood pouring from my brother's neck."

Abelich was telling his sons a personal story, something he had never done before. Listening as they shivered in the cold felt very strange. For some reason, their hearts raced, and they felt burdened, too.

Their father always stood before others with confidence and detachment. Now, somehow, he seemed diminished.

["You coward. Your brother died because of you. Listen carefully. I am going to avenge him. You must recover our bodies somehow and carry on the house. I shall be waiting in the afterlife..."]

"Those were my father's last words to me."

Abelich lowered his head, as though the mere memory left him ashamed.

Still, wrong though it was to flee a battlefield, those were undeniably cruel words. Cruel enough to haunt a man for the rest of his life.

How many people could remain composed in the face of mortal terror? Especially in their first battle. And yet they had to fight without retreating. At the very least, they had to stand their ground. Upholding one's honor as a noble was a harsh duty indeed.

In any case, the heavy atmosphere made Bilter scarcely dare to breathe. He was also too young to understand his father yet, so he merely listened.

"Billy, Riki. Promise me one thing," Abelich said, turning to his sons.

"If you must resent someone, please let it be me. Do not resent your brother."

In an atmosphere like this, they could hardly refuse to promise, even if they wanted to. Yet somehow, this did not feel like obeying one of his usual commands.

"Yes, Father. I understand. I promise."

Bilter answered first, his face grave.

When Abelich looked at Ricard, the boy glanced about with his large eyes, his cheeks flushed red, before answering.

"I don't resent you. Or Graut. And I never will. There's no need for a promise, but if my little promise is what you need, I'll gladly give it."

Abelich smiled faintly again and reached out to stroke both his sons' heads.

"I am not as good a fighter as my father was, and I fell short of my brother in every respect. But I did my utmost not to disgrace my house. I worked at it all my life. All my life. After that first battle, I never once fled the field, and I always fought at the front. In truth, I was not brave. I was simply terrified. You may not understand it now, but inheriting an estate is not such a fine thing."

Whether they understood or not, the very fact that their father was telling them this was a little moving. No, it was deeply moving.

Ricard seemed to ponder quietly for a moment, then spoke to his father.

"Everyone is a coward at some point in life. I think what matters is what we choose to do once we realize we're cowards. That choice makes some people brave, while others stay cowards. You are certainly a brave knight, Father. I'm sure Grandfather would be proud of you. He must have said those things because he was overwhelmed by his feelings at the time. So please don't take them so much to heart."

Abelich's eyes widened as he listened to his youngest son. He had known the boy was extraordinary, but he had not realized how deeply thoughtful he was.

"Hey, don't speak out of turn."

Unnecessarily worried about their father's reaction, Bilter scolded Ricard.

"I spoke out of turn?"

"No. It's all right. I think Riki is right. Yes... I hope so."

As though he had resolved to be kind to his sons today no matter what, Abelich merely smiled calmly. Today, truly, it felt as if he were setting aside his roles as patriarch and lord, setting aside the house itself, and treating his sons purely as their father.

"Billy, you learn everything quickly, but you soon grow bored. If you develop perseverance and patience, I think you could do anything you set your mind to."

It was the first praise Bilter had ever heard from his father. He had thought his father took no interest in him, but had he been watching all along? Bilter was so utterly delighted that his heart raced.

This time, Abelich looked at Ricard. He watched him in silence for a while before speaking.

"Riki, you are certainly an extraordinary child. Perhaps you are not merely talented but a truly rare genius. Yet that is what worries me. I have seen many cases where too much talent proved poisonous instead. You need not be humble, but you must guard against arrogance. In doing so, I hope you will bring honor to our name and save yourself. Who knows? Perhaps you will found a new house, like our ancestor, the heroic knight Chaldebert. If you truly did, I think it would make me very happy."

"When you say to bring honor to our name, do you mean winning glory in battle?"

"No. I mean to act honorably, whatever you do. Do not lie. Be honest, and keep clear of wrongdoing. Some may call you foolish. But that is the way to bring honor both to yourself and to our house."

Ricard seemed to think hard for a moment before replying.

"Isn't that rather easy? I've never been any good at lying."

"Hey, would you stop being cheeky?"

Bilter frowned as he chided him. But he need not have worried, for Abelich simply burst into hearty laughter.

"Hahaha! That's true. I have never seen you tell a lie, Riki. Hahaha!"

Watching their father laugh so loudly, Bilter and Ricard were both surprised and fascinated. Never in their lives had they seen him laugh like this. So Father, too, could laugh with such joy.

After a good, hearty laugh, Abelich rose and led his sons back toward the manor. The boys followed, still sharing their father's cloak.

From that day onward, Abelich treated Bilter and Ricard with genuine affection. Graut and their sister-in-law were kind to them, too.

As though the final piece had fallen into place, Bilter and Ricard sincerely prayed that their nephew would grow up strong and healthy.

In a way, it might have looked like a final kindness shown to someone with a terminal illness, but even so, it was something. Plenty of families simply cast their sons out without a second thought.

Perhaps perfection was relative. At least, Ricard thought he had perfect parents and brothers. His sister-in-law, too, of course. And his nephew.

Perhaps because his previous life had been nothing but darkness, Ricard knew how to treasure even the smallest light.

That light was the consideration, the memories, and the affection his family had given him. They were like the stars in the night sky he had gazed up at endlessly in his days as a shepherd.

Fire and steel, blood and death. In their place, Mother's embrace, the love between brothers, and Father's approval shone like starlight in Ricard's heart.

Part 1 – Memories Turned Into Treasures. End.