Richard looked down at his body. Parts were rotting off, and he was crawling with maggots. The once-beautiful young man’s face was just barely maintained.
Richard fell into thought.
In truth, he would have liked to continue watching over Brunhild. He wanted to support her until she died. He couldn’t imagine such a fragile woman living on without his help.
With conviction, he said, “Brunhild is crying right now.”
Since she was being raped by a man she loathed, she had to be spending the night weeping in sadness and frustration.
Instantly, their conversation in the garden rose in Richard’s mind, along with Brunhild looking small and frightened after being assaulted by Sigurd.
He had to save her. It was a brother’s duty to protect his little sister.
Richard’s heart no longer beat. But he felt as if it were pounding, sending hot blood around his cold body.
With frigid determination, Richard asked the foreigner, “What should I do?”
“Act as bait,” the foreigner said. “I will lure out the king with your rotten flesh.”
It was a quiet night.
Brunhild was reading a book in her quarters, a romance novel she had found at a bookseller she’d visited while disguised as a commoner. In the past, she’d hated these sorts of stories. Back when she’d thought she would have to live her whole life alone, they had only hurt to read. But now she could sympathize with the characters in the story, and they made her heart race. She looked forward to reading the book before bed every night.
As she was sitting on a chair and turning the pages, Sigurd came into the room.
He strode over to her briskly, his expression somehow brooding.
“Brother…?”
Sigurd took Brunhild’s hand and pulled her. The book she was reading fell to the carpet.
He thrust her straight to the bed, grabbing her arms again to prevent her from resisting, and crawled on top of her.
“Wait. Brother. Okay. It hurts. Don’t be so rough.”
But Sigurd did not stop. This was fairly unusual. His past rough behavior aside, he had been respecting her wishes lately. But now—
He peeled off her nightclothes.
“No, stop. Stop it, Brother.”
But words wouldn’t stop him.
And so, Sigurd took her.
During the course of it, she realized something. It was true he was being rough now, but it really didn’t seem like he was doing this to her out of hostility. The way he was acting, it seemed like he was so pressed, he felt he had to do it.
Above her, Sigurd wore a tormented expression.
Surely, there was a reason for this…
Brunhild tried to think of why that would be, but she couldn’t. Sigurd was as intense as a raging storm. She couldn’t maintain a cool head to analyze things. He wasn’t going to listen, no matter what she said, so all she could do was wait for the storm to pass.
After the storm had eased, Brunhild asked him, “Why were you so worked up?”
Sigurd combed her long black hair with his fingers. His hands were loving, the complete opposite of his earlier roughness. “I had a premonition. I might die tonight.”
“What…?”
Her brother had a faraway look in his eyes. It was as if he were gazing at something invisible. “I don’t think I can avoid it.”
Hearing that, Brunhild recalled a book of myths she had read long ago. Very often, the heroes in those stories were able to predict their deaths. She felt her husband might be like them.
“If you’re going to die…then is it really the time to be making love to me…?”
“I’m going to die. Is there anything I should be doing aside from loving you?”
“Still…I wish you had been a bit gentler about it.”
“I wanted to convey all my feelings to you.”
Brunhild wasn’t embarrassed to hear such direct words of love. “…Let’s get back to the subject at hand. If you know you’re going to die, then you have to do something about it.” She clung to Sigurd’s chest. “I don’t want you to leave this world.”
“Of course, I’ve already done what I can. I killed the knights on night watch.”
Brunhild’s eyes widened at his violent remark.
“First, I began by keeping an eye out around me. I found a number of knights who were behaving suspiciously. Before killing them, I tortured them and made them talk, and they said they had led a man from a foreign land into the castle. Right now, I have ordered only those knights I can truly trust to search for the criminal.”
“Brother, you should stay in your quarters tonight.”
“I plan on holing up here. But I have heard all petty tricks are meaningless when fate comes knocking. Who knows what will happen…”
That was when a knocking rang out through the room. It was the sound of a small and hard object striking something.
Brunhild jumped at the noise. “What…?”
“Calm down. That might just be…”
The sound had come from the window.
The two of them approached it. Taking the greatest care, they looked down at the scene below. Both their eyes widened.
“Richard…!”
Sigurd’s servant was outside the window. It seemed the earlier sound had been him throwing a pebble at the window.
Richard waved at Sigurd, then called out. “My king, Sigurd. It’s your servant, Richard.”
Brunhild just about shrieked with fear. “Why would a dead man be here…?”
Richard called out to them, “Your Majesty, please come outside. There’s something I wish to speak with you about.”
Sigurd complied with his request and just about rushed out the door.
Brunhild called out to him, “You mustn’t go.”
Sigurd stopped and replied, “Richard is back.”
“This isn’t right. Richard is dead.”
“It’s because he’s dead that I can’t let this chance go. I want to ask him why he tried to kill me. If I am at fault, then I want to apologize.”
Brunhild understood that feeling. If the dragon appeared before her, then she would be unable to restrain herself from heading off to see him, too. Even knowing that he was dead, the urge to see him and talk would be stronger than the desire to examine how odd it was.
She understood, but she had to stop him.
“Resist the urge. I don’t know why Richard has appeared when he was supposed to have died…but there’s no guarantee that he bears good will. He did try to kill y—”
“No.” Sigurd cut her off. “You…” He came back over to Brunhild, looking down at her with a ghastly glare. “Would you mock my friend by saying he would stab me in the back? I won’t permit that, even if you are my wife.”
“Acknowledge he tried to kill you once. Cool your head.”
“No. That was…” Despite talking back at her, Sigurd was slowing down. He must have understood that what Brunhild was saying was rational. He accepted his wife’s words and attempted to somehow restrain his emotions.