Goblin Slayer - Volume 16 - Chapter 1.2

It started with a scheme—er, suggestion—by Guild Girl and Cow Girl. They had gotten it into their heads to go to the tournament to be held in the capital. High Elf Archer didn’t have to be asked twice; her hand shot up, and she exclaimed, “I wanna see that!”

“Yes, it sounds delightful,” Lizard Priest added.

Dwarf Shaman, who loved a party, concurred. “Not a bad idea, I suppose.”

Priestess, for her part, still felt some reluctance to go to a festival just to have fun. The last time I went to one of those…

Well, a lot had happened, and fun had been the last thing she’d had. Plus, this was a jousting tournament. She had to admit, she wouldn’t mind seeing what it looked like when knights fought, even once in her life. One of the accomplished female adventurers whom she admired so much was a knight herself…

“I’d l-like to see that…,” she said. She had made it her business to try to put herself forward a little more recently.

“Great! Doesn’t sound like there will be another chance anytime soon,” Guild Girl said with a smile. Having thus filled in the moat, Cow Girl struck the coup de grâce.

“C’mon,” she urged, with the proverbial tug at his sleeve. “Let’s all go! I’m sure it will be interesting…I think.”

“Hrm.”

With everyone else agreed, Goblin Slayer could hardly refuse. In fact, the leader of a party didn’t possess that much power. He could set the party’s general direction, but he couldn’t, for example, chase someone out of the group all by himself. As such, Goblin Slayer took a page from the ancient matter of the “nodding elf” and nodded silently.

So it was that they went bouncing along in a wagon from the frontier for many hours until they reached the capital. They greeted the guards, who looked exhausted from all the visitors, and passed through the gate, chatting all the while.

They found lodgings and were just discussing what to do when…

“Let’s make up for what we missed last time!” High Elf Archer said. Brooking no argument, she grabbed Priestess by the hand and went racing off.

“Eek!” Priestess exclaimed.

The way her hair fluttered behind her, the elf looked like she was bounding across lily pads. Priestess, clutching her cap to her head, could only manage a “Sorry! See you later!” as she was dragged away. Guild Girl waved to her.

Meanwhile, Cow Girl had a question. “What did she mean, ‘last time’?”

“When we previously came to the capital,” was all the explanation Goblin Slayer offered. That would have to have been more than a year ago. Well, maybe it didn’t seem so long to an elf. “We ended up slaying goblins,” Goblin Slayer added.

“Slaying goblins?”

“That’s right.”

“Ahhh,” Cow Girl said. Yes, that would make one eager for a do-over. Especially given what she had learned about goblin hunting during her brief stint on the winter mountain.

She couldn’t help wondering about the expressions on the other faces, though. Dwarf Shaman, Lizard Priest, and Guild Girl looked positively enlightened.

“Welp, mayhap we ought to take a little mulligan of our own!” Dwarf Shaman declared and clapped Goblin Slayer on the back with his thick hand. It made a sound like a stone striking a metal plate.

Lizard Priest stamped eagerly at that. “A fine idea. There must be many shops for an event like this. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Hrm” was the first sound out of Goblin Slayer’s mouth, followed by “Is that the case?” He was going to let them have their way.

“Very well, then, my two honored acquaintances,” Lizard Priest said. “We will borrow milord Goblin Slayer from you.”

“Don’cha worry! We’ll have him back to you by tonight,” added Dwarf Shaman. Goblin Slayer showed no resistance to being bundled off by the two, both of them much more imposing than any human. For that matter, he probably didn’t want to resist.

“It would seem,” he said with his usual flatness, “that the matter has been decided.”

With that, the three men were on their way, disappearing into the festive crowd.

“Oh!” Cow Girl looked like she was going to say something. She herself didn’t know quite what, but she felt like she shouldn’t let the moment pass. She wouldn’t have wanted to stop them, though—to stop him from enjoying his day off, his festival.

I wonder how long it’s been.

Even at the harvest festival, whenever that had been, he’d been on patrol for goblins.

A beautiful white hand settled on Cow Girl’s shoulder as if its owner knew just what she was thinking. Cow Girl looked up and found the person with whom she had shared him during the harvest festival.

“Hee-hee. No worries,” said Guild Girl. “There’s still plenty of time.”

“Um…” Cow Girl thought she could sense a plot afoot. Her heart was racing. “Time for what?”

“Well, since we’ve come all the way to the capital, I thought we could indulge in some fashion! The latest styles!”

Ah, now that was indeed a plot to get the pulse racing.

“Yes, that would be wonderful!”

She wanted to be a princess, but for that, you needed an adventure.

§

The macellum, or indoor marketplace, was unlike anything Cow Girl had imagined. Made of amber-colored stone, it was originally an open-air marketplace set up for nundinae, established in a garden to avoid the elements. Somewhere along the line, a roof had been added, and it came to be used for regular markets.

Guild Girl had brought them to one of the biggest markets in the capital. “This plaza was originally built to celebrate an ancient emperor’s victory in battle. Today, though, it’s better known for shopping.”

Cow Girl, who knew nothing about the capital as such, was less interested in Guild Girl’s explanations than in the astonishing sights around her. This market, the cradle of the Trade God, was directly beside the library, the bastion of the God of Knowledge. It showed what fine friends the deities were.

The arcade’s elaborate construction involved five levels, like a giant’s staircase. The roof of each level formed a sort of balcony on which great crowds of people congregated.

There were the smells of meat, fish, food of every kind. Some of the smells Cow Girl didn’t even recognize. The aromas pressed in upon them as surely as the crowds. It was a horde of people, people, people, people going everywhere!

People passed in front of her who came from she knew not where, members of she knew not which tribe. They carried purchases whose provenance she couldn’t hope to identify. It almost looked like the whole of the Four-Cornered World was crammed into that marketplace.

Feeling like all five of her senses were overwhelmed, Cow Girl began getting dizzy just being there. “This…,” she said, her voice trembling. “This whole huge building is all shops?!”

“Well, the fifth floor is an administrative office. But there are roughly forty shops on each floor, so that makes…” Guild Girl put one slim finger to her chin and did some quick mental math. “About a hundred and sixty shops altogether.”

“Oh my gosh…”

Oh my gosh, indeed. A hundred and sixty shops? All operating at once? Inside a single building? Cow Girl had never imagined a marketplace bigger than the open-air ones that periodically appeared in the towns and villages along the frontier.

“True, it’s a bit more expensive than the nundinae. But what are you going to do? Come on, let’s go!” Guild Girl said.

“Uh, su-sure!” replied Cow Girl, her heart pounding in her chest. She did her best to keep up with Guild Girl.

How expensive was expensive? Would her pocket change be enough? Could she afford anything? Should she even think about buying anything? Granted, she was too old now for a scolding from her uncle about blowing her money at a festival…

Cow Girl was very impressed by the way the woman in front of her proceeded with sure steps, as if this was all old hat to her. She wasn’t sure, though, if she should really be here, given that she was just passing through.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Guild Girl said, appearing to guess what was on Cow Girl’s mind. Her braids bounced as she turned. “You might be surprised how uninterested most people here are in anyone else around them.” Then she added, “Anyway, you’re just so cute.”

“I wish you wouldn’t tease me…” That was the best objection Cow Girl could muster, but as soon as she started looking around, she understood what Guild Girl had been talking about. “Y-yikes… A pair of sandals… Two gold pieces?!”

“Well, they are very good sandals. Hmm… They do say fashion starts from the feet.”

Cow Girl didn’t have a spare moment to glance at the bustling crowd all around her. She was too busy taking in the shops and their wares.

What’s that? And that? And what are they selling over there?

She bubbled with questions like an inquisitive child but forced them back down.

Because otherwise…

Otherwise, instead of being a woman who had come out for a fun time with her friend, she would be more like a kid tagging along with her big sister.

Finally, though, even Cow Girl with all her resolve couldn’t restrain an “oh, wow!” She stopped cold in front of a small open shop. Even though most of the locations in this marketplace were proper storefronts, this was a stand-alone, open-air establishment set up in front of a statue of the Trade God tucked between a couple of other stores.

A quick look around revealed that there were several other areas like this, with establishments of their own around them. It seemed that at the gods’ feet, one was allowed to set up shop.

On display here were fabrics and textiles more lovely than anything Cow Girl had ever seen. They shimmered and sparkled as if they were treasures in their own right. She couldn’t take her eyes off them. Moreover, the seller was a sweet young myrmidon of pure white. You didn’t have to be a rustic farm girl to be enchanted by this stall.

“Ah,” Guild Girl said, taking a look and pointing. “The wormfolk have come to offer their silk.”

“This is silk?!” Cow Girl exclaimed.

Silk: It was the first time she’d ever seen it. She’d had no idea it was such a fine, rich material. She felt her heart pound as she looked at it; the fabric sparkled like a sea of silver sand. She’d heard tell of noble girls wearing silk dresses or even silk underwear, but this…

It’s incredible.

She’d always believed silk only came from across the desert on the eastern edge of the world. Had the wormfolk maiden woven it herself?

“Will you…,” inquired a voice as delicate and sweet as a bell, “…be buying?” The wormfolk girl turned her big black eyes, lovely and beseeching, on Cow Girl.

How beautiful a dress of this material would be. Fit for a princess.

Cow Girl could almost see herself clothed in the silk—whereupon she waved away a passing thought that it didn’t look like her at all. It was so lovely. Such beautiful silk. She swallowed hard. Asking was free, right?

“H-how much is it…?”

“You tell me. Name a good price, and I will be happy to give it to you.”

“Umm…”

“Hee-hee! You see, the wormfolk view selling their silk as an offering to the Trade God,” said Guild Girl. Just the sort of help Cow Girl needed. Now she understood—not clearly, of course, but enough.

I didn’t know there were people like that in the world.

She took the silk gently in her hands. That was all.

“If I may say,” the wormfolk maiden began with a tip of her head, “you will be putting a price on my very life.”

“I guess I can’t buy this too cheaply, then!”

A price on her very life? This wasn’t just any minor purchase. Cow Girl didn’t even know the value of her own life.

When she informed the other woman of this with an ambiguous smile, the wormfolk maiden only said, “Is that so?” and nodded. She didn’t seem disappointed that no price had been named for this, her life. She only gazed at the passing crowd like a fisherman watching the surface of a river. Cow Girl thought of herself on the farm, watching the people going by on the street, waiting for her childhood friend to come home.

Much to her surprise, someone said, “If I might have a look, then.” An arm clothed in a fine black sleeve reached past her and picked up the fabric with a practiced motion. The arm belonged to a beautiful woman in masculine clothes, her eyelashes fluttering as she blinked. “What do you think? It would make a fine piece for your traveling outfit.”

“Hmm… Yes, it’s not bad. Especially since it was handmade by such an adorable young lady!”

The response came from another woman about a head taller than the first. Her ears, which stood straight up and down, flicked, and her eyes sparkled like lightning. She laughed. “How about it, girl? Sell me this cloth?”

“…At what price, may I ask?”

The centaur racer with eyes like lightning ignored the sigh from the female merchant beside her and answered: “One victory dedicated to you.”

§

“I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch for so long.”

“You’ve gotten… How do I put this? So respectable.”

The gentle smile on her friend’s face as she responded with her thanks showed no sign of exhaustion or edge. It was enough to make Cow Girl very happy; she smiled and clapped her hands.

They were at the thermopolium. This being the capital, Cow Girl had wondered how fancy the place might be, but she was relieved to discover it was nothing beyond her means. A perfectly nice place for four young women to get together sometime after noon and enjoy the cordial atmosphere.

In the other seats were people who seemed to have come from all over the four corners, probably for the tournament. The people were profuse and the chatter was lively; it reminded her of the tavern at the Adventurers Guild that she sometimes visited. The biggest difference was that there was no one here with weapons or armor—only a panoply of different peoples.

I’m sure he would be dressed just like he always is, even here.

A mural, drawn with pigments on the plaster of one wall, was very much in the spirit of the capital.

Is that the Earth Mother? Cow Girl wondered.

The picture showed a beautiful, amply endowed goddess with wings. But for reasons Cow Girl didn’t understand, the wings were partially covered with cloth.

Strange.

“I certainly never expected to run into you here,” Guild Girl was saying.

“Me neither. Although I did get some letters from those kids that mentioned you would be coming to see the tournament.”

“I guess we owe it to the dice of Fate and Chance.”

“Indeed we do.”

Even as Cow Girl was busy being entranced by the environs, Guild Girl and Female Merchant were having a lively conversation. They both came from nobility; no doubt they were used to places like this.

A waitress dressed in finery of her own came to take their order, but even then they acted as if all was ordinary. Cow Girl was deeply impressed. She, for her part, stumbled over her order—frankly, she hardly understood what was on the menu. For example, she was sure she’d just heard Guild Girl order “glires.” What in the world was that?

Cow Girl was full of questions—and curiosity. Guild Girl saw her and nodded. “Ah! It’s a stuffed, roasted dormouse,” she explained.

“Dormouse?!” Cow Girl had no idea you could eat those.

Guild Girl giggled at her surprise while Female Merchant said, “In that case…,” and pointed at the menu. “The steamed flamingo’s tongue is particularly exquisite.”

“Flamingo…?” What was that? Cow Girl was nothing but confused. She was aware it was some kind of bird, but if you could eat its tongue, then it must be very big. Was it the size of a cow’s tongue?

Hmm. The centaur racer snorted, then indicated the part of the menu dealing with vegetables. “I’ll take the silphium salad, I believe. Gives you energy.”

“Take care not to eat too much of that,” Female Merchant said, heading off the excited diner before she could race down the menu. “At one point, there was a racer who used silphium regularly to treat asthma and was booted out for it at inspection.”

“Yes, because it does indeed make one stronger. It’s also said to have aphrodisiac effects in humans…” The racer asked if Female Merchant wouldn’t like to try a mouthful, to which the merchant simply replied, “Stop that,” her expression difficult to read.

What about leg of giraffe? They were out today. Really? That’s a shame. So went the conversation between Guild Girl and Female Merchant.

Cow Girl listened to them with one ear as she industriously studied the menu. She blinked at camel’s hump—you could eat those lumpy donkeys?!—but then she spotted something else.

“This is fish, right, not pork? It says something about sausage?”

“Ah,” said the waitress, a padfoot. (Even here in the capital!) “That’s delphinus. Delphinus salsus. It’s quite good!” The waitress’s ears twitched as she explained.

“I’ll try that, then.” Cow Girl didn’t have a lot of chances to eat fish, after all. Might as well take this one. She had no idea what kind of fish it was, but as long as she was having a meal in the capital, she might as well try something unusual.

“And to drink?” the waitress asked.

“I know it’s only noon,” Guild Girl said with an embarrassed chuckle. “But I think I might have a bit of wine.”

“For me,” Female Merchant said, “aqua mulsa.”

“My, you’re sure?”

“Yes, yes. Bumpkins’ wine, I know. When you deal in as much of it as I do, though, you realize it’s quite a lovely drink.”

“Sheer hubris, describing everywhere grapes don’t grow as bumpkin territory,” the centaur said with a laugh. “I’ll have one of the same, then.”

Cow Girl thought she recalled that aqua mulsa, or honey water, was produced by the people of the north. She knew that the jar of wine he’d brought as a gift from those parts was no longer quite full…

Her uncle abstained, for reasons she didn’t know, so he and she enjoyed it by themselves.

It doesn’t really seem like alcohol, though…

“Wonder if there’s anything sweet around here,” the centaur mused.

“I can offer you sapa or defrutum,” the waitress said. “Grape syrup or syrup of other fruits. What would you like?”

“Hmm… Fruit defrutum, then.”

“Excellent choice.” The waitress executed an elegant bow and withdrew. Cow Girl finally let herself exhale.

Still…

“Something on your mind?”

“Oh, n-nothing!” Cow Girl said, waving away the question as those lightning eyes focused on her. “It’s just, earlier you talked about a victory. So I was wondering if you’re going to be in the tournament, too.” This centaur was, after all, one of the very best in the water town. Wasn’t that the reason for the glances she seemed to attract?

Nonetheless, Cow Girl found her affable and easy to get along with. Maybe that was because the centaur’s bottom half so closely resembled the animals Cow Girl was used to working with.

“No, I’m an auriga. Not a sonipes.”

“Um…?”

“My legs are trained for running fast. I don’t know how to wield a spear.” That was why the most she could offer the wormfolk girl was victory in a race.

“She’s a thoroughbred, a bloodline devoted exclusively to running very fast,” Guild Girl added. She said that centaurs who raced devoted their lineages to being quick.

That, Cow Girl understood. After all, it was obvious from a glance at the runner’s legs. They were so thin, so angular, so lean and beautiful—but also singularly unsuited to carrying heavy objects. They looked delicate, almost like glass. Beautiful but fragile.

“I sure wish I could see you run,” Cow Girl said.

“Hoh-hoh. Now, that is an honor. I promise I’ll invite you to the Circus Maximus someday when I’m running.”

Cow Girl thought back to the iron horseshoe he’d come back with not long ago. It had belonged to a runner named Silver Blaze. Even Cow Girl, however, realized it would be uncouth to ask which of them was faster. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what the lightning-eyed centaur’s legs looked like and found herself stealing glances under the table.

The racer’s legs were positioned in front of and behind her belly—perhaps that was the right way to put it—and were folded on the floor.

They should have chairs for the different kinds of people who come here.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable, sitting like that?” Cow Girl asked.

“Hmm? Ah…,” the lightning-eyed woman replied, shifting ever so slightly. “Just a little, I suppose.”

“I’m sure they used to have seats for centaurs…,” Guild Girl said hesitantly, her eyes darting around the restaurant. They could see birdfolk who found the backs of the chairs a challenge for their wings and other padfoots who struggled with where to put their tails.

“Supposedly, having padfoots use special chairs would constitute discrimination,” Female Merchant broke in. “Of course, everyone has their differences. It seems there’s much hand-wringing these days.”

“I’m sure sooner or later, people are going to claim it’s inhumane to make centaurs race,” said the racer. “Even though we enjoy it.” She snorted. Horses could be moody creatures. Were centaurs the same? Obviously still angry, the racer rested her chin in her hands (not very good manners) and complained, “‘Don’t do this! Do that! Be considerate of this!’ It’s gotten suffocating in the capital lately.”

“Things are a bit smoother in the water town. They have the archbishop overseeing things,” Guild Girl said, trying to bring some levity back to the conversation by bringing up her colleague.

“She understands that human laws are imperfect,” added Female Merchant. “Or at least, that’s my colleague’s interpretation.”

They talked of adventures; they talked of the world; they talked of veritably everything. Cow Girl often found she didn’t follow.

But maybe this would be a good idea?

Chairs for centaurs. Not so much chairs but cushions? They could make them at home, sell them themselves. All right, it wouldn’t be easy, but… Hmm.

She was thinking it over when her gaze met the racer’s.

“Incidentally,” the centaur said, her eyes shining, “aren’t you going to buy a dress or something?”

“Er… Maybe not…” Cow Girl scratched her cheek so as not to show she was a bit embarrassed and shook her head. “I’m not really… I mean, I don’t know much about fashion.”

“Let me come and direct you!”

“…Are you sure?”

“Sure as sure can be!” The racer nodded firmly. Then she took the hesitant young lady’s hand and gave her a winning smile. “Nothing in the Four-Cornered World is more important than having fun together!”