“I’m so busy lately, conquering the Edens, invading other lands, and forging alliances… But before all this, we had leisure. What foolishness we would get up to in our free time. Back then, I hunted…” A vulgar smile crossed Sigurd’s lips. It was a smile completely lacking in class, one he would never reveal at the castle. “…not deer but women.”
“They say that great men have a great fondness for carnal pleasures, but it was truly difficult to counsel you back then.”
“Indeed. You never dallied with any women.”
“I’ve always only ever had one woman in my heart.”
Sigurd laughed. Unusual for such a haughty and arrogant man, it was self-deprecating. “…I feel like I understand that feeling now, just a little.”
When Richard heard this, murderous flames flickered in his eyes for just an instant. However, they quickly quieted down.
And so, the vassal’s hostility went unnoticed, and the king continued to speak in good humor.
“Let’s share a drink when we get back. It’s high time you told me about this woman of yours. No matter how many times I asked before, you never revealed her name. This time, you have to tell me.”
“Yes, once we return.”
As they walked along while engaging in lighthearted banter, the hunting dog’s head popped up. It had found a deer.
It was a young buck. It was sniffing at the ground about thirty meters away from the two of them. Perhaps it was searching for something to eat.
Without a word, Sigurd raised his hunting bow. He had a hang-up about not using the Thunder on hunts. Since these excursions were for pleasure, he would only use the orthodox equipment.
He pulled the bowstring back tight, nocked an arrow, and focused his eyes straight ahead, fixed only on the deer. Richard could tell Sigurd was concentrating.
This was the moment he’d been waiting for.
Richard touched the sword beneath his robes. Sigurd was so focused on hunting that he’d left himself wide open.
Richard quietly drew the blade from its sheath, then stood behind Sigurd.
His footfalls did make a bit of noise, but Sigurd was too absorbed in drawing his bow to notice.
From behind Sigurd’s back, Richard aimed for his heart.
He tensed, then raised the sword.
And then—
The hunting dog barked. It startled the little birds in the trees, sending them fluttering away.
Next came the sound of the arrow cutting through the air. Sigurd had shot at the deer. But the arrow he’d fired didn’t find its mark. Sigurd had sent it flying too late, after the deer had already fled from the barking.
“Damn deer.”
Sigurd lowered his bow and turned back to the hunting dog. The canine was barking at Richard. Richard hid the sword under his robes and said bitterly, “It seems this mutt isn’t cut out for its job.”
“The royal hunting dogs are supposed to be excellent, though.”
Sigurd prodded the hound’s head. Its tongue lolled out with a rather embarrassed look.
They continued hunting after that, but Richard didn’t get another opportunity to kill Sigurd.
The dog would start barking at Richard every time Sigurd was open. The creature was well trained indeed.
Ultimately, Richard found no chance to kill the king before the hunt wrapped up.
When Sigurd bagged a deer, a childlike smile came to his face. “This should satisfy Brunhild.”
The two men put their catch on a sled meant to be dragged behind them and headed back. As Sigurd’s servant, Richard was responsible for pulling the load. Sigurd didn’t help him, but on the way back, he found a stump that appeared comfortable to rest on and said, “Let’s rest a little. I’m tired from walking all this way.”
“Thank you for your consideration.” Richard sat down on the stump.
“You wait there.” Sigurd left Richard with the hunting dog and made to go off somewhere.
“Where are you going?”
“There’s a beautiful spring nearby. I’m going to get a drink.”
Sigurd headed off for the spring.
Richard sensed this was his last chance. When Sigurd drank from the water, he would attack from behind.
When he drew the sword out from under his robes, the hunting dog howled. Richard plunged the sword into its heart. The dog gave a little yelp before dying. There was now no turning back from this.
Stepping quietly, Richard headed for the spring.
Sigurd was kneeling in front of the clear water, drinking what he scooped up with his hands.
Richard approached quietly.
Sigurd’s back was wide open.
Richard swung down the sword in a single stroke. This time, he didn’t hesitate for even a single instant.
“—!”
Right before he was stabbed, Sigurd sensed Richard’s hostile intent and turned around, but it was too late for him to dodge.
A groan escaped his lips. Red blood flowed into the clear spring.
Sigurd said in anguish, “Richard… Why…?”
The sword had not reached the king’s body—Sigurd had blocked it by catching the blade in his hands. Blood ran from Sigurd’s hands down the length of the blade and into the spring.
Richard tried to push the sword into Sigurd’s body, putting all his strength and weight into it.
“Ngh…”
Sigurd raised his empty hand, manifesting a single arrow of light in the air that he shot at Richard’s hand.
The arrow went through his vassal’s right wrist, burning it. Losing balance, Richard fell into the creek with a dramatic splash.
Richard immediately turned toward Sigurd and tried to thrust the sword at him, but the tides of battle had turned.
Richard got up, turned away, and fled. He had to come up with a new plan.
“Wait, Richard!”
Ignoring the king’s pursuit, Richard continued to flee.
“The king has been wounded!”
There was a great commotion in the castle. Right as Brunhild stepped into the castle garden, she ran into Sigurd, who had returned from somewhere.
Even from a distance, she could tell something was wrong, so she rushed up to him. A dark-red cloth was wrapped around his hand. He’d torn off a piece of his clothing to make a bandage.
“Brother, that wound…,” Brunhild began, then trailed off.