Chapter Twenty-One #3
“They say that there are two ways to defeat a troll. The first is to cut off its head,” Idsilla explained, using a stick to draw a large, warty monster—presumably a troll—in the dirt.
“Trolls possess such great regenerative abilities that they can heal their wounds in the blink of an eye. Records say that they are able to reattach a severed arm by simply holding it back in place. Complete damage to the head is the only thing they cannot regenerate.” She drew a slash through the troll’s neck.
“If their head is done away with, even a troll will not be able to escape death. The second way is to attack them with fire. They say that cauterizing an open wound impedes their regenerative ability. This is why mages usually use fire magic when fighting trolls.”
Maxi swallowed hard. Idsilla’s detailed explanation only fanned her fears.
A chill ran down her spine at the thought that she was voluntarily going to a place teeming with these terrifying monsters that could withstand most attacks.
Even so, her husband was currently battling said monsters, and day by day, this fact only strengthened her resolve to join Idsilla.
Time flew by in a flash. On the day before the support unit’s departure, Maxi waited for the cover of night to slip out of her room. Idsilla, who had been waiting for Maxi in a corner of the garden, let out a sigh of relief when she saw her.
“I thought that you might have changed your mind,” she admitted.
“R-Right when we are about to depart?” Maxi replied indignantly, glancing around to make sure no one was near. “You could tell me…i-if you are having second thoughts yourself, Idsilla. It is not t-too late.”
Idsilla snorted. “There is no chance of that. I almost regret not doing this sooner.”
The girl turned and began heading toward the female clerics’ quarters. Maxi followed after her, walking as quietly as possible.
Only the sound of crickets and the calm breeze penetrated the darkness. They came out of the shadowy garden and noiselessly entered the building.
When Idsilla knocked on a door at the end of a gloomy corridor, the door was opened with a creak.
“Come in,” a voice whispered.
Maxi hurried through the door after Idsilla. Inside the narrow, dimly lit room was a dark-skinned woman who appeared to be in her late twenties. Her face was stony as she took in the sight of Idsilla and Maxi with bags slung over their backs.
The cleric furrowed her brows in exasperation. “I see that you really do intend to go.”
“So I have been telling you this whole time,” Idsilla said.
There was a pause.
“I was hoping you’d come to your senses,” the cleric muttered.
Maxi blinked. From Idsilla’s words, she had assumed that the female cleric was happy to help them. After glaring down at Idsilla’s stubborn face with a conflicted expression, the woman sighed and withdrew two habits from a chest.
“Who could stop you, Lady Idsilla? Just promise me that you will not get me in trouble for this.”
“You have my word. I shall never mention your name even under torture, Selina,” Idsilla replied sourly.
She took a habit from the cleric and slipped behind a partition. Maxi hovered nearby, nervously studying the cleric’s steely expression. The woman flicked a glance at Maxi before reluctantly introducing herself.
“I am Selina Keyman, a childhood playmate of Lady Idsilla’s and a poor soul who has been constantly subjected to the obstinate lady’s unreasonable demands because of this acquaintance.”
“I can hear you,” Idsilla hissed from behind the partition.
Selina did not even bat an eyelid. “Goodness, how rude of me,” she said dryly, her gaze sweeping over Maxi. “You shouldn’t let that stubborn girl drag you into this. It is not too late for you to return to your room and avoid putting yourself through unnecessary hardship.”
Maxi frowned, offended by the woman’s rudeness. “I-It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Maximilian Calypse,” she said, then tried not to stammer as she added, “I thank you for your advice…but I must sadly decline.”
The female cleric rubbed her forehead, looking like a woman burdened by the entire world’s problems. After Idsilla stepped out from behind the partition, Maxi took the remaining habit and went to change.
As she slipped out of her smooth silk dress and donned the worn garment, it dawned on Maxi that there truly was no turning back now.
Her face set into a determined expression as she let the drab tunic slide down to her ankles, then threw on a robe and draped the hood over her head.
“I-I am ready.”
Idsilla looked her up and down. “I think the habit is a bit big on you. Though not enough to be conspicuous…” she muttered as she helped fix Maxi’s outfit.
Maxi nervously fidgeted with her sleeves. She wished to see herself in a mirror, but since this was a cleric’s room, it was void of anything that could be used for self-adornment.
“There is no need to be so worried. The sisters do not really know one another unless they entered the monastery at the same time. Everything should be all right as long as you keep your mouths shut,” Selina said curtly as she tied a cord around Maxi’s waist. “I doubt any of them would even suspect that a noblewoman would try to join the campaign by impersonating a cleric.”
It was clear from her tone that she was trying to tell them how ludicrous their plan was. Even so, Idsilla pretended not to notice and replied primly, “Thank you. Your words are a reassurance.”
They tried to catch as much sleep as possible in Selina’s room until dawn. When the first light of daybreak streamed through the window, the female clerics began to file out of their rooms. Selina peered through the door and waited until most of them had left before slipping out.
Idsilla and Maxi cautiously trailed behind Selina as they made their way out of the basilica. Dozens of wagons laden with baggage waited in the square in orderly rows. Knights bearing the Livadonian coat of arms stood at the head of the procession, and soldiers in formation flanked the center.
Wiping her sweaty palms on her worn robe, Maxi joined the long line of clerics behind the wagons.
True to Selina’s assurance, the soldiers hardly even glanced at their fake identifications before letting them climb onto one of the baggage carts.
About fifteen people were crammed into one wagon.
Maxi squeezed herself into a corner and tightly hugged her bag while Selina and Idsilla seated themselves across from her.
The signal announcing the completion of the preparations soon rang out across the square, and the wagons began to roll forward. Maxi’s heart pounded so violently that she was afraid it might burst out of her chest.
She was leaving. She was truly leaving.
Maxi raised her head slightly to glance at Idsilla, whose face was hidden beneath a hood drawn down to her nose. She could tell from Idsilla’s white-knuckled grip on her knees that the young noblewoman’s nervousness matched her own.
Although Maxi wanted to reassure Idsilla, she was afraid that doing so would attract attention. Her eyes swept over the faces of the women huddled inside the rattling wagon.
Though their hoods concealed their faces, Maxi could tell that most of them were young. They all looked tense, their bodies rigid as they bumped against one another like marbles in a sack whenever the wagon lurched.
Leaning further into the wall, Maxi looked out the window. Dozens of loaded wagons rolled out of the towering city gates in an orderly formation.
“How many days does it take to reach Serbin Castle?” Idsilla suddenly asked.
Though her voice was low, the wagon was so quiet that she managed to draw everyone’s attention. Maxi stiffened.
Selina, however, remained calm. “About seven to ten days.”
Idsilla fidgeted in her seat. “It did not look so far on the map….”
“It takes more time with such a large party traveling by wagon,” Selina replied.
They fell into silence once more. Only the rhythmic sounds of the horses’ hooves hitting the ground, the rattling of wheels, and the occasional clanking of armor could be heard.
Maxi did not know how long she remained frozen in that state of extreme anxiety, but the faint light of morning soon seeped in through the window. The columns of wagons came to a stop in an open field outside the city gates.
“We only just left. Why are we stopping?” Idsilla murmured.
It was clear that she was worried the march had stopped because their presence had been discovered.
“We are waiting for the knights from House Aren to join us,” Selina whispered reassuringly. “They say Duke Aren himself will take command of the party. We are carrying many provisions, so they are taking every precaution possible.”
At her words, Idsilla and the rest of the women in the wagon let out a sigh of relief. Maxi, however, went as white as a ghost. If what Selina said was true, then she would have to spend the next seven to ten days evading the duke until they reached Serbin Castle.
Maxi bit her lip. Though she wished to reveal this fact to Idsilla and Selina so they could deliberate on a plan, she dared not open her mouth for fear that one of the women might recognize her. Her speech impediment could easily give away her identity.
Maxi was so cautious that she did not utter a single word until the sun was high over their heads.
When they stopped in an overgrown field for a late lunch, the female clerics stepped out of the wagon to hand out the food.
Since they were no longer the noblewomen of the group, Maxi and Idsilla were obliged to help.
They first distributed bread, cheese, and wine to the knights before passing some to the clerics. Next were the soldiers. It was only after all the men had received their rations that the women were able to gather on the riverbank to eat their meal.