Wolves of Hader

Chapter 49

Mart and Vitan glared at each other as if they were about to kill.

Because of that, even the high-ranking nobles sitting at the head table in the banquet hall couldn't help but turn their gaze toward us.

The first to laugh was Vitan.

"If my words or actions have made you uncomfortable, I apologize. I was simply following my lord's orders to be of help to Duke Mart."

Mart looked at the head table without responding. His gaze was directed at Grand Duke Syren, but the grand duke continued to converse with the head of the Secret Council beside him.

Once Vitan left, the event, which had paused, resumed. There was nothing more tedious. Before long, a meal and an imperial performance began.

Ross, Mart, and I headed for seats along the wide edge of the banquet hall. Though seats had originally been assigned, Mart simply chose to join us.

Soon, the music of imperial musicians filled the room, and imperial dancers began splendid performances.

At the same time, dish after dish of imperial cuisine was brought out.

Plates of food soon covered the table. Most dishes I'd never tasted before, but all were mouthwatering.

There was no chance the food was poisoned. There were too many eyes on the kitchen alone, and there was no reason to take such a risk at an imperial banquet.

As I ate without hesitation, Ross only then picked up a piece of smoked venison and enjoyed it.

Mart seemed to be stuffing food into his mouth without a thought.

Then Ross spoke.

"I hope I'm not being rude, but may I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

Mart replied while drinking his wine. In truth, I'd also been wanting to ask.

"You said earlier you act as a guard in the capital's northern district—what did you mean by that?"

"Exactly as I said. The imperial family gave me a territory just to act as the capital's northern guard, so I had no choice but to do so."

"Then, are you truly the Duke of Privy?"

Mart smirked bitterly and gave a vague nod.

Ross asked again.

"If you are the head of a ducal house, there would be no one in the capital who doesn't know you, but it seems no one here recognizes Duke Mart."

"I have never come to the capital before. In fact, I've barely spent any time at my family's estate either. I've always lived up north, in the mountains."

"You were living in the mountains?"

"Well, putting it kindly, it was a series of extraordinary adventures; putting it harshly, I wandered around. Originally, my younger brother was to inherit the title."

"Was your younger brother's name Litton, by any chance?"

"That's right."

Ross, looking surprised, asked again.

"Did something happen to Litton?"

"He's dead."

Ross couldn't ask any more.

Mart picked up the wine bottle on the table and filled his glass, then downed it in one gulp.

Neither Ross nor I intended to press further, but unexpectedly Mart spoke up.

"He died in an accident while in the military. He was Art Syren's superior, apparently."

Ross looked at me.

His glance wanted to know if I understood what was meant.

Not only did I understand, I also recognized that Mart was restraining his suspicion.

"When I heard the news at first, I didn't think much of it. I was living in the mountains and I was the abandoned child anyway. But eventually, I came down from the mountains. The old man must have been desperate to call back the son he'd once thrown away. But..."

Mart smiled bitterly.

"Over the ten years I was gone, many things happened to my family. As for the old man, I felt he deserved it, but as for my brother, it hurt my heart. Seeing that everything was gone, it made me angry."

"What do you mean, everything was gone?"

"There was nothing but an empty castle left. All but a few of the house's servants had left. The old man had sold the territory, I heard. Hahaha! He'd lost his mind, that fool."

Mart laughed and drank more wine. It was a short conversation, but much could be surmised.

It seemed his younger brother was murdered and the territory was stolen by someone.

When the house faced ruin, they called back the disowned eldest son.

Although the Privy ducal house seemed similar to ours, it was clearly different.

The Privy family had originally sided with the Syren family, then had been cast aside.

But I had more questions.

"What were you doing in the mountains before returning to your family?"

At my question, Mart grinned.

"A bandit."

"Sorry?"

Mart chuckled.

"Just kidding. I led a small mercenary band up north. Though we called ourselves mercenaries, they were just a bunch of brawny blockheads. They looked exactly like bandits."

Even now, I imagined he might still be running with those mercenaries.

You can tell what followers are like by looking at their leader. Though he called them blockheads, they didn't seem ordinary.

Ross asked again.

"Who is this Vitan character?"

"He was a retainer of our house. He betrayed us for the Syren family."

It probably wasn't a simple betrayal. He was the type to insult others in front of everyone at this banquet.

Just then, an official's voice rang out.

"Now, we will have the ball for those who will lead the next generation of the Empire and raise the honor and glory of their houses."

The young nobles began to make their way to the center of the banquet hall. Gentlemen and ladies faced each other, bowed, and started to dance a waltz-like step.

The banquet continued until sunset. After the dance for the young nobles, several more performances followed, and then there was a ball for the adults.

During that time, I occasionally looked at the grand duke, but he showed no interest in us at all.

He merely chatted from time to time with the empress and the head of the Secret Council who sat beside him.

When the emperor and empress left to greet the congratulatory delegations, the grand duke and the head of the Secret Council left the head table as well.

It was understandable the grand duke paid us no attention. Someone of his status wouldn't care about a couple of country bumpkin kids.

"Let's head out too. The old folks look like they'll be enjoying their drinks in even finer places—no need for us to lose out."

"Let's do that."

The young nobles were already leaving the banquet hall one by one.

As we exited the hall, an imperial official approached us.

"From now on, please enjoy yourselves at the outdoor banquet venues set up throughout the grounds. The thoughtful intentions of the young lords and ladies will shine as much as the honor of your houses."

It was a polite way of saying, don't cause trouble.

Likely, the lesser nobles wouldn't be drinking and would be bending over backwards to curry favor with the young scions of the high noble houses.

All around the outdoor venues set behind the palace, drinks and snacks had been arranged.

This seemed to be the heirs' banquet, but Art Syren was nowhere to be seen.

The three of us took seats in the corner and drank a light wine.

Mart spoke.

"I'd like to have a drink or two more with you—should we drink here? This water-like wine is just dull, and the atmosphere is uncomfortable."

Ross looked at me.

We had a reason to stay at the heirs' banquet, but Mart didn't. If something were to happen tonight, it wouldn't be at this banquet.

I expected someone to lure us out once we'd gotten a bit tipsy. We were waiting for that.

But then.

I realized that Mart himself might be the one trying to lure us away.

If that was the case, he'd put on quite the act for us up to this point.

"Alright, let's head out for a drink."

"Good, let's have a big round at a nice bar. I spotted a quiet tavern while coming into the capital."

Mart stood up and went out first.

Ross looked at me again.

Only then did he seem to feel that Mart was acting suspiciously, unlike before.

Several hypotheses about Mart spun through my mind before fading. If what he said was truth, then Mart was both real and fake at this moment.

We took a carriage and headed to the bustling district.

At a crossroads, while waiting briefly, another carriage stopped right next to ours.

No one except me knew who was in that carriage, nor that I'd sent a signal to them.

Afterwards, our carriage left the busy district and entered a quiet manor area where wealthy merchants mainly resided.

The spot where the carriage stopped was well off in the manor district.

The place was an old manor converted into a tavern, and its walls were surprisingly high for its size.

"How about it? Nice atmosphere, right?"

"Seems like an expensive tavern."

"I'll take care of the bill."

Mart entered the manor.

A beautifully maintained garden and elegant buildings. A middle-aged woman came out to greet us from the central building.

"Welcome."

"Can we get a drink?"

"Of course. This way, please."

Following the proprietress, we went inside. Though the outside looked like a mansion, the inside was laid out like a restaurant in a luxury inn.

On the first floor, there were several tables and a small stage; the second floor was built with a balcony and surrounded by round rooms.

The tables near the windows and entrance were taken, leaving only a few spots in the corner.

Mart looked a bit flustered. Perhaps it was because there were more people than he'd expected, or maybe for some other reason.

"Is it always this crowded?"

"Today's the day of the imperial banquet, so for knights, there's no better day for drinking than today. All the nobles are away, after all."

"So most of the customers here are knights?"

"Yes. They're quite famous around the capital. Many are regulars here."

I surveyed the tavern.

All the customers were sturdy men. None wore uniforms or carried weapons.

"Are there no other seats?"

"There are rooms upstairs, but they'll cost you extra."

"Then I guess we have no choice but to sit there. Let's take that spot."

We'd have to take that seat anyway.

A tavern full of knights. Our table far from the entrance. No windows nearby. It was all perfect.

Ross gave me a look of disbelief. Of course he noticed—the fact that Mart was the bait had only just dawned on him.

"Unbelievable."

"Right?"

"You knew?"

"I figured it was possible."

Ross sighed.

Perhaps he was a bit frustrated both at my calmness and at how thoroughly we'd been duped. Frankly, anyone would have fallen for Mart's act.

We sat at the corner table.

A few patrons, who'd pretended not to notice us, stole glances our way.

Mart ordered.

"Something light to eat, and your house's best drink, please."

"We'll have the same."

The proprietress spoke.

"If you need anything else, let us know. If you're carrying weapons, we'd appreciate it if you left them with us. It's our way of preventing any unfortunate incidents."

"We have no weapons."

"Very good."

She headed into the kitchen.

I glanced around at the customers again.

They were all chatting and drinking. Not a single one looked tense. That meant they were all extremely strong.

The magic power swirling in the tavern was almost enough to set the air thrumming.

There were about thirty people.

There were probably over thirty more in the upstairs rooms. Whether Art Syren would appear here, I didn't know.

But at the very least, the retainers of the Syren family would be here. They would be responsible for tonight's events.

Just then—

Noise erupted outside as a group of eight burly men entered the tavern.

At the unexpected entrance of others, the patrons all turned toward the door. Mart too.

Their eyes moved quickly.

Were they enemies or allies?

If enemies, how did they know about this place? If allies, why hadn't we heard from them earlier?

The newcomers sat at the table next to us. Just then, the door rattled open again, and another group entered.

This time it was around twenty, all in armor.

It had begun. The armed men blocked the entrance, and the seated patrons also began to stand, one by one.

Then, people began to come out of the rooms on the second floor, carrying large sacks full of swords.

Ross and I stayed calm.

The eight who'd sat beside us did as well. Only Mart looked surprised as more and more people gathered.

Before we knew it, nearly a hundred people surrounded us. Those who'd pretended to be patrons held swords in their hands, too.

Then, from the second floor, an elderly man walked down. Someone on par with the Sword of Light.

A retainer of the Syren family!

He said,

"Lock the doors and raise the steel walls."

At his words, from beyond the entrance and windows, a loud rumbling noise—clank, clank—rang out as thick steel barriers began to rise.

Finally, we stood up.

So did the eight men at the table next to us.