Chapter 11
“Indeed, law and order have worsened. There’s nothing I can do about it. Thank you for the advice. If anyone comes from Medlidge, please don’t mention that I went east. And don’t say that I exchanged the silver coins either.”
“Yes, of course.”
“If you play along, I’ll stop by on my way to sell the statues made from dragon claws. I won’t hide anything—I’m going to look for dragon claws.”
“I will keep it a secret.”
The first response was polite, more out of courtesy than intent. The owner of the shop would prioritize the wishes of the young lady in front of him, but if he had to search for her in Medlidge, he would immediately reveal her whereabouts.
That’s the way business works, isn’t it? You seize opportunities to make money, and it’s best not to go against what Medlidge says.
But if someone offers a better price upfront, that changes everything. The owner of the general store memorized the offer that Biretta proposed.
After the guest, who didn’t seem to fit the small shop, left, the owner drifted into daydreams.
Why would the precise young lady from Medlidge hurry to sell her treasured belongings and secretly go east?
A secret contract? A clandestine meeting with a lover? Or perhaps sending an agent to expand her trading house abroad?
Many speculations crossed the shop owner’s mind. Yet he never considered the correct answer: She’s going to hunt dragons to break off an engagement.
Since it’s a small town, you can walk around alone, Biretta suggested, proposing a short period of free time. She planned to sell her treasures and told Lanken and Iola to prepare individually for hunting dragons.
Thus, after sending Biretta to the general store and separating from Lanken, Iola was held up by a shabby street vendor in front of the town square.
“If you’re going to hunt beasts, nothing beats this!”
“Is that so?”
“Exactly! Bows and snares can be prepared by someone else or bought anywhere, but this… this is different. Look closely… see it? The swirling pattern here.”
“Yes, I see it.”
Iola squatted in front of the vendor’s stall, staring intently at where the man pointed. In the middle of a smooth, dark gray stone without edges, there was a white, circular swirl pattern.
“This swirl brings luck. It’s said to carry a wish for safety—so you won’t get badly hurt in front of prey.”
Seeing Iola interested, the stall owner got excited and launched into a passionate explanation.
“This is an exceptional stone. It’s very popular abroad, but people here don’t recognize its value… tsk tsk. Abroad, it sells like hotcakes. If I only had the travel funds, I’d head straight overseas… Ahem. What do you say? I’ll give it to you cheap. A wise fiancée who understands its value would surely like it.”
The vendor, feigning regret, slid two flat but heavy stones toward Iola. She examined both carefully.
“Your lady must have seen many stones.”
Medlidge was a mineral trade house, and their home had long rows of sculptures made of gems and rocks.
But the vendor, only hearing that Iola wanted items for a hunting trip with her fiancée, had no idea of their true use and tilted his head in curiosity.
“Not gems? Well, whatever. Will you buy it or not? Four coins, and it’s yours.”
“Four coins? For both?”
Iola’s eyes widened, and the vendor flinched. Was four coins for worthless stones too much? He had lied to make the stones seem more valuable because a passerby seemed interested, and it had backfired. The vendor hastily lowered the price.
“If it’s too expensive, make it three…”
“Truly a bargain! Such wonderful items! I guess people everywhere are kind to couples about to marry. We don’t know what the future holds for our engagement, but thank you for celebrating it.”
“Huh? Oh… congratulations?”
Although he didn’t understand, the vendor got caught up in Iola’s lively words and congratulated her on her engagement.
Iola smiled, put the stones into her bag, and handed the man four coins. The clinking coins made the vendor’s eyes widen in surprise.
“I can’t believe these stones are only two silver coins each. Thank you.”
Of course, the four coins were in the man’s hand, not silver ones. He wanted to leap for joy but couldn’t, fearing it would look suspicious.
“Thank you more than I do. Now I should go eat lunch. Farewell.”
“It’s still morning.”
“In our town, we eat lunch a bit early. Farewell.”
“A local custom, I see! So restaurants open early too? Could you recommend a place for lunch…”
“Farewell! I wish you happiness and now I must go!”
“How kind.”
The vendor hurriedly left the square, brushing off Iola.
The man ran off after leaving Iola behind, silently praying that she wouldn’t get broken off by her fiancée.
“Great Father, I offer my prayers.”
Lanken looked up at the high ceiling of the large synagogue.
On the eastern ceiling was a solemn carving of a man’s likeness. He clasped his hands and prayed before the figure.
The synagogue was where priests lived, worshipped, and held services. Worshippers attended weekly or biweekly to hear the scriptures and offer their prayers.
Lanken was not a devout believer but not indifferent either. When troubled, he came here.
“You already know why I’m here. My prayers are always the same.”
Whenever Lanken left the city with Biretta, he stepped into the synagogue. Any journey with Biretta was always difficult.
“Great Father, our God, please grant me only trials I can endure. Let Biretta return home quietly. I’ll donate once a month if you grant this.”
Even now, he prayed once a month, asking the synagogue to calm Biretta, holding his hands together desperately.
“You don’t just want Biretta to behave, so why do my wishes never come true? Are my wishes worthless? That’s why I don’t come here often, isn’t it?”
If prayers solved problems, he would visit the synagogue like home. But prayer never helped.
Lanken was at the point where even his faith was fading. Yet, when his heart felt heavy, he returned occasionally.
His informal tone came from the priest’s teaching: prayer is not asking God for favors, but a conversation with God.
Following this, Lanken spoke to God casually, as if in conversation. He didn’t know any other way.
“Anyway, this time I truly ask for your help. If it goes well, I’ll come often. Please grant only trials I can endure…”
“Lanken! There you are! We’ve got the war funds—let’s plan the great hunt!”
The synagogue doors burst open, and Biretta appeared with the sunlight behind her.
All eyes turned to Biretta. Lanken kept his eyes shut, chin raised resolutely.
“You know what ‘trials I can endure’ means, right?”
“Lanken! Biretta! You’re both here! I got the splendid stones! Only four silver coins!”
While the priests hushed Biretta, Iola burst through the door, confidently shouting with sunlight behind her.
Lanken squeezed his eyes shut. Just seeing these two as his ‘trials’ already made his back ache. People were whispering, “Who is Lanken?”
“Trials! I can! Endure! Only! How greatly do you overestimate me?!”
“Were you offering a local deity a ritual for luck before hunting the dragon? Ceremonies like these in synagogues are profitable for the clergy. Even meaningless rituals can soothe the mind… huh? Blasphemy? Who does that? Me?”
“Priest! What are you doing dragging my fiancée out… Iola, don’t push the priest over… Ah! Why me?! Why am I included? Lanken, God’s servants are persecuting us!”
“Every two weeks! I’ll come every two weeks! Oh God!”
Lanken began negotiating with God.
