Goblin Slayer - Volume 12 - Chapter 2.5

Interlude - Of A Gift From A Younger Sister

“Hmph! Some adventure this is. We’re just running errands.”

“Don’t be rude!”

The grumbling Scout Boy found himself jabbed in the side by Druid Girl’s elbow.

The vast winter sky spread out above them, as blue as if an upturned container of paint had spilled all over it. There was no cover on the wagon that rumbled down the road, and as long as you didn’t mind the cold, it would have been very inviting to go to sleep.

Passersby kept glancing at the vehicle, probably on account of the hulking lizardman in the driver’s seat. Or maybe it was the dwarf and the half-elf who rode with Scout Boy and Druid Girl. The crew might all too easily be taken for slave traders or kidnappers, but the sight of the children, relaxed and playful, dispelled this assumption. And anyway, the silver tag hanging from the lizardman’s neck proved that he was a friend to humanity. A Porcelain or Obsidian rank might not have inspired the same confidence, but Silver—that would overcome even prejudice about his appearance or race.

Though, for all things there were exceptions…

“Ha-ha-ha, somethin’ wrong with that, kiddo? Don’t like doing deliveries?” The dwarf, a shaman, laughed uproariously at him. He seemed to consider the winter-blue sky a perfect drinking companion, and was indulging accordingly.

Dwarves, who lived underground, were untroubled by either heat or cold. Or maybe it was thanks to the wine he was consuming so liberally—the young scout wasn’t sure.

“I mean, y’know. I finally get to leave town, go all the way to the fortress on the border, and then they just hand us a single scroll and tell us to drop it off,” the boy grumbled, clearly vexed by this turn of events.

“But how often do they let you into a fortress?” Druid Girl said pointedly, dangling her bare feet off the edge of the wagon. A border fortress was sure to be crucial to the nation’s defense, not the sort of place people from town could just wander into. Even the area they had been shown was only the small part of it considered safe to reveal to outsiders. “And anyway, it was really interesting.”

This time it was Scout Boy who jabbed Druid Girl as she prattled on. “You’re just happy we got to try out all that great eastern-border food.”

“Wh-what’s wrong with that?!” Druid Girl retorted hotly, her face flushed. “We each have our own interests, don’t we?”

“Gods, rheas are such gluttons.”

“What?!” Druid Girl said, her voice cracking. “We are not gluttons!”

Rheas were famous for eating four or five meals in a day. Druid Girl most likely objected to the terminology because, as a young woman of a certain age, it made her feel self-conscious.

“Ah, yes, in any event, we had a contact,” the lizard priest said merrily as he listened to the two youngsters bicker behind him. “Some resent this way of doing things, but the simplest way to ascertain someone’s stature is by family and friendship.”

“You think?” the boy asked in surprise.

“There is, simply put, no reliable way to judge a person’s abilities and intellect at a simple glance,” Lizard Priest replied, nodding his head on his long neck. “However, if someone comes from a prominent family background, we may assume they’re likely to have been educated, and if you happen to know someone who knows them…”

“…then they might just trust you.” The half-elf fighter lounging beside Lizard Priest on the driver’s bench finished the sentence. He was looking up at the sky. He had a young leaf in his mouth (where had he gotten that?), which he had formed into a grass whistle that he was now blowing on idly. He sat up abruptly, then turned toward Lizard Priest, bowing his head with an elegance and decorum that emphasized the elvish blood flowing in his veins. “And you have my thanks for the introduction.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“Scaly’s right. We’d nothing else to do.”

Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman, both experienced adventurers, waved away the thanks as if what they had done didn’t really matter. But to Half-Elf Light Warrior, it mattered quite a bit. It would normally have been his own party that would have had to introduce this boy and girl to powerful people. Perhaps it was luck, or perhaps simple kindness. But whatever the case, it remained that he had incurred a debt of gratitude.

“Hrm… I mean, I get being grateful and all, but still…” Scout Boy, still looking like it didn’t make perfect sense to him, leaned off the wagon, so far it looked like he might fall.

“Be careful!” Druid Girl chided from beside him, but he ignored her, gazing up at the sky. He squinted against the sharp blue, so bright it hurt.

“Is it as great as all that?” he asked.

“Someday, when you two discover some plot of Chaos, and bring it to that esteemed woman…” Then you’ll understand, Half-Elf Light Warrior didn’t add aloud. So long as the youngsters didn’t die, they would presumably continue their steady climb up the ranks.

“The point is, you have to be able to get them to listen to you, and not just dismiss what you say out of hand as the babbling of an inexperienced adventurer,” Half-Elf Light Warrior said.

“You mean like those nobles and stuff who are gracious enough to listen to anyone, even commoners?”

“Not really. Most people in the world—and I include myself—will say anything they’ve convinced themselves of, no matter how baseless it may be.”

It was important to gather information, yes, but it was too often forgotten that it was just as important to check and verify that information. One might be sent an important communiqué, but then it would be buried in a mountain of papers on a desk somewhere, and not discovered until after it was too late. Chances were that happened all the time; and sadly, it would mostly be covered up as the negligence of some bureaucrat or other.

“If you’ve really got something important, then you have to have a way of showing people that it’s important,” Half-Elf Light Warrior went on.

“Huh…” Scout Boy still didn’t sound wholly convinced.

Half-Elf Light Warrior smiled slightly and added, “That person’s honored younger sister is supposed to be quite the mage. Never undervalue someone who knows their way around the magical arts.” Deciding it wouldn’t do any good to explain further, he went back to blowing on his grass whistle. He glanced to one side (barely; his peripheral vision was excellent) and saw Lizard Priest opening his jaws.

“It’s the way of the world for there to be much that we do not understand. Proceed along the path of learning one step at a time, and your neck will one day stretch to reach the leaves.”

“But I’m just a rhea,” Druid Girl mumbled.

“And I’m a dwarf!” Dwarf Shaman boomed with laughter.

I don’t know… Rheas very rarely even left their villages. Everyone knew the story of the eccentric old man who had come back with a hoard of treasure once, long, long ago, but for the most part, they preferred to stay safely inside. A long day relaxing in a sunny house was their idea of paradise. Thus, it was only infrequently that they spared a thought for the “way” of the wide world beyond.

What would they think if they met that scarred, yet somehow resolute—beautiful—female general?

I see—it’s the seed for bigger adventures. That was about as much as the rhea girl could comprehend. Difficult things were difficult. So she would go one step at a time.

Then there was this scroll the woman had handed them. “A little something from my younger sister,” she’d said. It bore a label, seemingly applied at some later date, with a legend in a hasty hand. Druid Girl was literate, so she could discern that it read “Wyvern’s Roost.”

Well, even if this was a simple delivery, they should focus on delivering it. She was sure it was the seed of someone else’s adventure.

“…And that’s good enough for me.”

“—?”

The boy beside her shot her a questioning look, but she shook her head and said, “It’s nothing.” Then she, too, gazed at the sky. The vista above their heads seemed impossibly huge, as if they really could follow it to every corner of the world.