Chapter 62
“Why?”
“There’s a name here — someone who claims to be the author of this.”
“What?”
Ferguson looked at the blacklist pinned to the wall.
It was a list of descriptions and identifying marks for people who must never be allowed inside the castle.
A recently added, vividly inked composite sketch of Count Zeppelin of Devonshire had been drawn there.
It had even been emphasized in red letters — clearly someone who would be punished if let in.
Ferguson glanced back and forth between the sketch and Zeppelin.
The rain made it hard to make out facial details, but from a distance they did look somewhat similar.
“Open the gate! Now!”
Zeppelin was still screaming below, veins bulging at his neck.
If he truly was a noble, this was bad. There were frequent reprisals when a gate was opened without permission.
But each time something like that happened, Julian would repay them twice over, so Ferguson wasn’t too worried.
In times like this, it helped that he was a duke’s soldier.
Ferguson softened his tone and said to him politely, “Ahem. I’m sorry, but even the Count cannot be admitted. Even if this were an order from His Majesty the Emperor.”
“What did you say?”
“Look here. The Duke ordered that Count Zeppelin of Devonshire is never to be admitted into the castle.”
The sentry waved the paper.
‘You damned brat…’
Zeppelin ground his teeth until they ached.
The sentry was right.
There were only three powers in the Empire that had autonomous territories: two dukes and the Temple.
There was the Duke Latranis guarding the northern border, the Duke Johannes who was a symbol of the Empire itself, and the Temple; apart from the Temple’s lands, all other territories fell under the Emperor’s rule.
For convenience they were called counties, baronies, etc., and the noble with the most land in a region was given administrative authority, but that was only managerial power.
No noble could commit any act of betrayal against an imperial edict.
However, within their autonomous territories the two dukes and the Temple had grounds to refuse the Emperor’s orders.
So if Julian decided not to allow Zeppelin into his land, Zeppelin could not enter the duchy until Julian permitted it.
But such restrictions could not stop the current Zeppelin.
He had to get in somehow.
He had to go in, find the kidnapped Rebecca, and only then could he begin a trial or assert his rights.
“What’s this? Did he go quiet? Is he going to leave now?”
Ferguson poked his head out and looked down at Zeppelin.
But that was only a momentary illusion.
“Ugh… ah!”
Charles screamed in horror.
Zeppelin whipped his horse and charged straight at the gate.
“Hey, you mad—”
With a heavy thud the gate shook. The pained wail of the horse echoed.
A white horse foamed at the mouth and collapsed to the side.
Zeppelin kicked the fallen horse.
“You useless thing!”
Ferguson and Charles stared blankly at the scene.
They hadn’t expected him to charge a stone gate with his bare body.
“Open it! Open it now! Rebecca! Rebecca!”
Zeppelin pounded the gate with his fists. Even though the gate wasn’t going to open, he struck it until his hands were drenched in blood.
When his hands no longer obeyed him, he started ramming the gate with his head.
At that dull sound, Ferguson, brought to his senses, shouted, “Stop! If you don’t stop within a count of three we will fire!”
“Shut up! Open this door!”
Zeppelin’s white shirt was now stained a dark red.
Blood, rainwater, and tears mixed and ran down his body.
He sobbed and kept ramming the gate with his head.
“Rebecca… my Rebecca…”
“One! Two!…”
Charles was waiting for the order to fire, his gun aimed at Zeppelin.
His arm had stiffened with tension.
After all, Zeppelin was a noble; he had to shoot in a way that minimized risk to his life.
Then, before Ferguson could finish the final three counts, a knight on horseback came galloping frantically from afar.
“Hold him!”
Ferguson flinched and stopped counting.
Bates hurriedly leapt from his horse and shouted to the sentry, brushing his wet blond hair out of his eyes.
“This man is Count Devonshire! We will take him — do not fire!”
“Well, if you’re going to take him…”
Ferguson and Charles exchanged glances.
Seeing Charles lower his gun, Bates quickly pulled Zeppelin away.
“Count. Count, regain your senses.”
“Let go of me! I must see Rebecca. I have to get my lost Rebecca back.”
Zeppelin seemed completely bereft of reason.
Bates hesitated a moment, then bowed his head.
“In that case, excuse us for a moment.”
He delivered a knife-edge strike to the back of Zeppelin’s neck.
Without even a whimper, Zeppelin lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.
“Oh—what’s coming now?”
“Haah… what now?”
At Charles’s words Ferguson looked up.
Two elegant white carriages were approaching leisurely.
Why there were so many visitors in the middle of the night was beyond him.
When the carriages stopped, a servant dismounted and held up a large black umbrella.
Under it stood Octavio, his brows deeply furrowed.
He slowly approached Zeppelin, who lay in the rain in a miserable state.
“Foolish thing.”
Octavio clicked his tongue once and nodded to Bates.
Bates slung Zeppelin over his shoulder and gently laid him in the other carriage — not the one Octavio had come in.
The physician waiting inside examined Zeppelin’s condition.
All the while, through the fog of semi-consciousness on the way to the Count’s residence, he kept calling Rebecca’s name.
Although a fierce storm had passed, the next morning was surprisingly peaceful.
The sky cleared and looked exceedingly high and fresh.
Rebecca had woken early and stepped outside for a short walk.
She stretched at the doorway and looked up at the blue sky.
Taking a deep breath, the clean morning air filled her lungs.
Rebecca walked slowly past the gate toward the fields.
The still-damp soil clung thickly to her shoes.
She hurriedly lifted the hem of her skirt and rolled it up.
Then she carefully took off her shoes and stepped barefoot into the soft mud.
She smiled at the gentle sensation.
Some might have pointed fingers and called it dirty, but the mud that squeezed out between her toes smelled of freedom.
Delighted, she wiggled her toes several times and walked on.
The grass, which had grown haphazardly up to her waist, looked so fresh that she reached out without thinking.
Dew fell in droplets each time her fingers brushed the grass.
A breeze came from afar.
The field began to sing.
Rebecca hummed softly to the wind’s tune and made her way to the top of the hill.
It wasn’t a very high hill, but it was enough to overlook the duchy.
From there she could see the coastal town of Montfer in the distance.
Beyond Montfer stretched dense forests and vast plains.
After the rich forest and fertile fields teeming with life, harsh mountains rose.
And beyond them lay the mining regions famous for various gems.
The Duchy of Johannes was rich in many ways. Both the Temple and the Emperor eyed it covetously.
But no one dared rashly violate the Duchy of Johannes.
The backlash from meddling with a family blessed by the gods was frightening.
Whether by fate or coincidence, the ends of forces that opposed Duke Johannes throughout history had always been tragic.
The gods had seemed to favor the Johannes family mercilessly.
The mere existence of the House of Johannes was proof of Depria’s power.
At the center of Depria’s faith there had always been Johannes.
Without the House of Johannes, the Depria Church could not have risen to its present status.
Rebecca looked carefully at what Julian held in his hand.
It was radiant enough to be called land blessed by the gods.
But the yoke that bound Julian to his fate was terrible enough that he’d give up those dazzling things rather than be freed.
A dull pain settled in one corner of her chest.
Rebecca’s knitted brows slowly shifted downward, and her gaze drifted to the bottom of the hill.
A pair — a woman and a man — were walking toward her.
There was only the Obelia manor on the hill, so they were surely its guests.
Rebecca’s heart dropped for a moment.
Were they Zeppelin’s hunters?
Had they come to find and drag her away?
She was afraid. Zeppelin might well be able to kidnap her.
This place was so remote that only occasional villagers came to collect wild fruits.
There were practically no people around; even if she screamed, surely no one would hear.
‘If that happened…’
Rebecca imagined the worst.
But her worries were soon drowned out by tearful calls that reached her.
“Lady Rebecca!”
It was Kanna. Kanna and Robert were waving toward her.
Kanna threw the luggage she had been carrying to the ground in haste.
Then she started running toward Rebecca.
Rebecca grabbed her shoes and ran pell-mell toward Kanna.
She slipped several times in the muddy ground but didn’t stop.
When they finally met, a smile bloomed on Rebecca’s face.
“Kanna!”
Kanna, unable to contain herself, suddenly hugged Rebecca.
“Promise me you’ll never… never leave me again.”
Kanna’s hands wrapped around Rebecca’s back, trembling horribly.
The way she squeezed Rebecca as if wringing her was fierce.
Kanna’s fierce hug seemed to represent the torment she had endured while apart from Rebecca.
“Kanna, you’re going to break Lady Rebecca.”
Robert followed, smiling wryly.
“Robert…”
Rebecca looked at him with tear-filled eyes. His face was scarred, but he was alive.
Earlier, Julian had rescued them from a carnivorous plant, and Eustav had found a paralytic poison in it.
The plant injected paralytic poison into captured prey.
A prey whose body was filled with the paralytic would be neither dead nor alive for hours.
The carnivorous plant would then leisurely feast on the fresh blood of the unconscious prey for a long time.
Julian had read Eustav’s report with interest.
He instructed Eustav to make a drug using this paralytic poison that could fake death.
With this poison, if an informant were discovered, they wouldn’t have to take their own life — minimizing sacrifice.
