Chapter 133 Shadow

Despite having nothing left on his agenda, Lucien decided to walk around the village to clear his head.

The day had begun with one problem after another, and while he would've preferred to return to his study and enjoy a cup of coffee to wind down, the thought of going back to the manor only brought Cora to mind.

As he walked through Ashridge, the sounds of daily life winding down around him filled the late afternoon.

A memory surfaced of the times he had gone on similar walks, back when the village had been far quieter than it was now.

Perhaps that was why he had inevitably ended up where he was.

Despite the changes around it, the gathering hall of Ashridge had remained the same. The first longhouse Harlon had built looked almost quaint compared to the new structures around it.

He could hear the voices of children from the nursery, while a steady trickle of people moved in and out of Talia's shop nearby.

'It's already late afternoon, huh...?'

Standing across from the gathering hall, Lucien watched a few young men gathered around the ranking board, most of whom he didn't recognize by face.

They spoke in low voices, sometimes broken by rough laughter as one of them shoved another, the way men were prone to do when caught in friendly rivalry.

Past the open doors of the building, he could hear the clink of cups and the voices of men as they wound down from the day's labor.

A few groups were a mix of refugees and villagers, while others remained divided between newer arrivals and the native population.

His eyes remained on the sight for a brief moment before movement from the side caught his attention.

A young woman, one he vaguely recognized as belonging to the group he had seen back at the northwestern housing site earlier, walked toward the men standing around the ranking board.

At her approach, one of the men nudged a young man beside him, brown-haired and sporting a short stubble, before jerking his head toward her.

The man with the short stubble looked almost embarrassed as he went to meet her halfway, while the rest of the group very deliberately pretended not to notice.

Lucien's mouth twitched at the sight, glad to see that even in a world with orcs, wild magic, and every other problem waiting for him, young love could still find room to bloom.

"Finally decided to have a drink, My Lord?"

Jerking slightly at the sudden interruption, Lucien turned toward the voice, the shoulder strap and cloak shifting with the motion.

An older villager, one he vaguely recognized, removed his cap and dipped his head. "Ah, my apologies, My Lord...I shouldn't be sneaking up on you like that."

It was that specific gesture that jolted his memory.

Lucien shook his head. "Pay it no mind. I was distracted myself and no, I am not the drinking sort, remember?"

A chuckle escaped the man before he spoke. "Aye, My Lord."

His eyes followed the direction Lucien had been looking, and the smile faded. "I see..."

Lucien's brow creased faintly at the odd reaction. "What is it?"

He looked back to the young couple speaking quietly with each other, the space between them closer than was usually appropriate.

"It's a sight I never thought this village would see, My Lord," the man replied, shaking his head.

The furrow on his brow deepening, Lucien gestured toward the pair. "...They seemed happy enough. Do their families perhaps disapprove?"

A confused look crossed the older man's face, though he recovered not long after. "Ah...My Lord, they're..." His words trailed off as he looked uncertain whether to continue.

It was only when Lucien gestured for him to speak that the man continued carefully.

"My Lord, that lass went off with another yesterday," he muttered, jerking his head toward the one who had nudged the young man from earlier.

"She's been coming here around this time, My Lord. It's when most of the men have finished their work, so there are plenty of...customers for her."

At those words, Lucien stilled before turning back to the couple, this time watching more closely.

The motion was slight, a brief glint in the palm of the man as he pressed something into the woman's hand before they began walking off, his hand already wrapped around her waist.

'Already...? But why...'

Lucien dragged his eyes away from them even as he tried to keep his expression unchanged. "I ensured the refugees would be fed and sheltered...at least during their transition."

He glanced at the older man, who looked almost resigned. "Why did..."

His words trailed off as the man let out a breath.

"The lass came in with the second wave, My Lord. And right after, talk of the orcs began."

Those words caused Garrick's warning from earlier to surface.

"She is afraid that what I offered them will not matter if Ashridge falls tomorrow?"

"Aye, My Lord...and they're still new to our village. They hear folk speak well of you, but that isn't the same as having stood behind these walls when the Tithe came," the man replied, his eyes drifting to the palisade walls.

"They believe you'll flee to Helvarn if the orc threat worsens. That's likely why the lass decided to gather as much coin as she could."

For a time, the two men fell silent, watching the group of younger men jostle each other as they headed inside the gathering hall, while their friend had already disappeared around the bend of the road with the woman.

"...Isn't it against the tenets of the Goddess to indulge like that?" Lucien finally asked, eyes fixed on the direction where the two had gone.

It had been something he and Talia had taken the time to read up on while scouring the library for books about magic.

The older man made a sign solemnly. "It is, My Lord."

"But no one would dare claim to know the mind of the divine. Saw much the same sort of thing back in Helvarn as well."

Lucien glanced at the man, his brow raised. "You have been to Helvarn?"

Something he couldn't quite place crossed the man's eyes before he gave a slow nod. "Aye, My Lord. Wasn't always from Ashridge myself."

That made sense, given the man's age. Still, the silence that followed felt heavier than it should have.

Before Lucien could tell him that he didn't need to share more, the older villager continued.

"It's fine, My Lord. Been long enough that I ought to be past brooding over it."

He exhaled through his nose. "My son used to work as a guard in Helvarn...so we moved there to be closer to him."

Lucien inclined his head. "It must have been quite different...though with stone walls..."

The older man shook his head before Lucien could finish. "That town didn't always have those tall walls, My Lord. They built them up for years...Ashridge and Cragwatch hadn't even existed at the time either."

"The guards working at Helvarn had to patrol the lands around it, keeping the roads clear of beasts so trade could flow proper."

"I see...and during one of those patrols, your son..."

"Killed by an orc band while they were keeping the roads clear. The inner regions can be just as dangerous as the frontier...at least it wasn't the beastmen that got them."

Whatever showed on Lucien's face must have been enough for the older man to notice.

"They do worse than kill you," he muttered, a hard tone entering his voice.

After a moment's silence, the man shook his head. "I saw how people lived in Helvarn. It was a big difference compared to my small village."

"It wasn't as bad as what I've heard this time around, but Helvarn has always been a place folk flock to when the inner regions are burning...and there isn't any work for them."

The man glanced at him before speaking slowly. "Lord Rathenfell was younger back then. 'Round your age, My Lord."

That drew Lucien's attention. "What did Lord Rathenfell try to do to solve the problem? I had not seen much of those activities during either of my trips there."

"The cathedral...he was the one who had it built, My Lord."

At the older man's words, the belltower and the bronze statue holding a laurel flashed across Lucien's mind.

The older man exhaled faintly. "The clergy only had a small church before that. To have a cathedral of that size in these lands...it was a sight to see."

Despite his words, he didn't sound particularly happy about it.

"...It didn't solve the problem, I take it?"

Shaking his head, the older man's gaze met his own. "It helped, My Lord. But in a way, it also made things more difficult."

"The people who were...inclined to such things simply learned to hide their sins better. That's how the shadow beneath Helvarn started."

Both men fell quiet after that. The older man wore the same resigned expression as before, while Lucien's thoughts lingered on everything he had heard.

Then the older man's gaze drifted past him, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

"Seems you've been found, My Lord."

Lucien frowned faintly before following his gaze.

"Lord Lucien! Quick, Sera! He's right there!"

Roland's voice carried across the square as he hurried toward him with the familiar gaggle of children...along with the hunter in tow.

The older man gave a small bow. "I'll leave you to it then, if you'll permit me."

Lucien inclined his head. "My thanks for taking the time to speak with me."

As the man walked away, Lucien turned just in time to see Roland waving both arms, nearly hitting Leofric with his wooden sword.

"He's right there, Roland. Stop waving that around," said the boy with...without the hoop?

Lucien's brow rose. "Leofric, what happened to your hoop?"

At his words, Leofric blinked in surprise, but before he could reply, Roland cut in.

"Leo's lying! Sera said so!"

"I am not! I haven't even said anything yet!" Leofric exclaimed, teeth gritting.

Before their argument could continue, Aisha stepped between them.

"Leofric, Roland...isn't there something you wanted to ask Lord Lucien?" she asked, looking between them with a disapproving expression that somehow reminded Lucien faintly of Alicia.

Roland immediately spun to face him, dipping his head. "Oh! Lord Lucien, could we visit Cora? We heard she's awake, but the guards at the entrance wouldn't let us in even though Sera was with us."

The motion would've been almost formal if not for the wooden sword slipping from his hand.

Lucien glanced at Sera, who had remained behind with Matthias and Elin. Upon meeting his eyes, she shook her head slightly.

The hunter looked like she had just returned from today's scouting trip, still dressed in her outdoor clothes rather than the wrap skirt Talia had gotten for her. Branches and leaves remained caught in her clothes and hair.

"Cora's condition is...I can bring you in, but all of you have to promise not to get too close to her for now."

"I-is she that sick, Lord Lucien? Will she be okay?" Elin spoke up then, her brow scrunching.

Lucien let out a breath. "She's still very weak, but you can visit her for a short while."

His eyes drifted to Sera once more. "Sera. Can you make sure they don't get too close?"

She gave a firm nod before he turned toward the manor.

"Come then. The day's almost over, and your parents will be looking for you soon."

As he led them back toward the manor, Lucien couldn't help but realize that his walk had only given him more problems to carry back with him.

It seemed his cup of coffee would have to wait for a while longer.