The Demonic Cave — Episode 6

"You may ride my horse."

"I know how to ride."

Libitina shook her head at once. And no wonder — the duties assigned to a Saintess were vast in scope, and as the Saintess's handmaiden, Libitina had been required to learn horsemanship as a matter of course.

She was, in fact, quite a capable rider. Anyone who trailed a Saintess across battlefield after battlefield was bound to improve, when their very survival hinged on staying in the saddle.

"I have no horse to spare for you. There is no room in the wagon, either."

At that, Libitina stopped herself from replying. As far as she could remember, knights often led spare mounts along — it was no small burden for a single horse to carry a heavily armored knight and all his equipment over a long distance, so unless one traveled in leisurely conditions where rest was always at hand, it was only prudent to prepare for anything.

Libitina glanced absently at the other knights standing at a distance. They wore armor, yet looked immaculate overall, without the slightest trace of hardship. Of course, neither was there any of the tension one might expect from knights on the verge of battle. In other words, they showed no sign of husbanding the strength of their horses — equipment as vital as any blade — against a fight that could break out at any time or place.

She recalled the cave she had emerged from, then the circumstances just before she had entered it, and finally stared at Asselin with calm eyes.

"Then am I to ride with you, Vice-Commander?"

"No. You will ride alone. I will take the reins and walk."

"Playing squire, are you?"

"It is hardly strange for me to take personal responsibility for the Saintess's safety."

It made sense that he, the Vice-Commander, would personally see to her care. A Saintess who had appeared across five hundred years of time was a being to be cherished and honored accordingly.

And yet — making the Vice-Commander, a man who enjoyed the respect and trust of his knights, act as her squire? Wouldn't that earn her plenty of resentment? Having been dumped without warning into a strange world where nothing could be trusted, Libitina wanted above all to read the situation as smoothly as possible.

More than that, she simply could not find a reason to hand her reins over to someone else. She could ride on her own, so why should she leave it to another? Losing control of one's mount while riding was tantamount to throwing one's life into the air and gambling on where it fell.

"There's no need for you to hold my reins, Vice-Commander. I handle horses well."

"I am sure you do, but my horse has a vicious temperament. It obeys only its master."

"Then lend me a gentle one."

"As I said, I intend to take direct responsibility for your safety."

Asselin continued without a hint of retreat.

"I am the one who must attend you, and I cannot entrust my own horse to another. This is the best way."

Having said it so flatly, he seemed to realize he'd been too stern, and added in a somewhat softened tone, "Besides, you claim to be fine, but you still look unwell. There is no reason to invite danger unnecessarily."

Even though he'd heard about her condition through Hina, Asselin had pointed it out anyway. She was still visibly wrapped in bandages, so she couldn't really complain about being treated like a patient.

Despite the words being close to concern, Libitina suddenly thought that this man treated her like a criminal. Granted, on the surface he seemed to respect her enormously and treat her with the utmost reverence, but...

Insisting on putting her on a horse he himself called vicious, while he kept the reins — didn't that look exactly like a jailer's scheme, keeping a prisoner where she couldn't run?

"Then let's ride together. It could carry two people easily enough, couldn't it?"

"I would never presume to ride alongside the Saintess."

"What kind of stubbornness is that?"

"You need not concern yourself with me. The Lux has instructed us to attend upon you with every courtesy."

"Every courtesy."

What a grand expression. When a man with such brilliant blond hair and a face so genuinely holy said things like that, it only made things more unbearable. Libitina forced down her irritation and curled the corners of her mouth upward.

Arguing further was pointless — the man before her clearly had no intention of bending — and she didn't want to waste any more time wrangling, either.

"Fine. You're the one in charge, Vice-Commander, so I'll follow your orders."

"Thank you for your cooperation."

Hearing her answer, Asselin turned away with a wooden expression. Libitina stared at his back, narrowing her eyes.

No matter how she looked at it, this felt like being escorted as a prisoner.

The knights seemed well practiced in striking camp and withdrawing. They were almost certainly men who were dispatched to various regions on a regular basis.

Once Asselin decided to leave the sanctuary, the knights swiftly dismantled the barracks and packed up their gear. In what felt like an instant, they were ready to depart.

Watching the knights keep their distance from her, Libitina concluded that while she might not be treated as a criminal, she was certainly being treated like a plague carrier.

Their whispered conversations were full of curiosity about her, yet they hovered nearby as though some barrier had been drawn around her. She even caught them sneaking curious glances her way, only to nudge each other in warning. At one point she watched, in real time, a braver knight attempt to sidle closer, only to reverse direction the moment Asselin's gaze met his.

Seeing them all keep their distance as if bound by some unspoken pact, Libitina abandoned her plan of staying quietly silent until they reached the Central Diocese. At this rate, she was going to end up saddled with some bizarre accusation she couldn't talk her way out of.

"Excuse me, Vice-Commander."

When she called out to the back of Asselin's head as he walked with tedious, perfect safety, he answered immediately.

"I am listening."

"Why don't you ask me anything?"

Though the question might have sounded like picking a fight, Asselin answered without the slightest agitation.

"The Lux has ordered me to escort the Saintess safely. Beyond that, there is nothing I need to know."

At his stolid reply, Libitina frowned without meaning to. Anyone hearing such an answer would think him a steadfast, dependable holy knight.

But Libitina was not anyone. Perhaps because she was already nursing an uneasy feeling about Asselin, she sensed that he was subtly keeping his distance — watching her, guarding against her. All the more so because he seemed to have no desire whatsoever to ask her anything.

"I have a lot of questions."

"Ask them."

"Will you answer honestly?"

At that, Asselin — who had kept his eyes fixed straight ahead the whole time — finally turned to look at her.

"I have no reason to deceive the Saintess."

As Libitina studied him from atop the horse, she suddenly grasped the source of this subtle discomfort she'd felt from him. It was that all along, the words "Saintess" as Asselin spoke them carried no emotion at all. There wasn't a speck of reverence for the Saintess — his manner toward her was flat and impassive, as if dealing with a complete stranger.

How was that any way for a holy knight of the Order to treat a Saintess?

Libitina had known everything there was to know about the Saintess, and had watched from closer than anyone how the Order treated her. Asselin's indifferent attitude was something unimaginable in the Order she remembered.

Which left only one conclusion. This man did not believe her story at all. He was pretending to believe it on the surface to secure her cooperation, but for all she knew, he had already resolved to drag her straight to the torture chamber the moment they returned to the Central Diocese and get the truth out of her.

"You don't believe I'm a Saintess, Vice-Commander."

At Libitina's confident words, Asselin's brow furrowed slightly.

"You declared to me that you are a Saintess."

"I did."

"Yes. I heard your answer and made no objection. And yet do you have some particular grounds to distrust me?"

He pushed back as if it were her attitude that was strange. Of course, Libitina had a retort ready.

"You never ask me for proof, do you? Isn't that because you've already decided not to believe me no matter what I show you?"

Proving her holy power would have been a very simple matter. But begging someone who wasn't even curious to let her prove she was a Saintess was a blow to her pride, so she had kept quiet.

Libitina was a Saintess. Whatever the process had been, she had become one. She had introduced herself to this man as Saintess Livia, but... being a Saintess was the truth, and such small lies could be quietly corrected later, once she was certain of her safety.

In any case, the point was this: she was prepared for the moment the other party might finally demand evidence. Asselin, meanwhile, showed no sign of ever making such a demand.