Chapter 33
Dominic thought it was rather a good thing upon hearing that the Duchess had been grounded.
'Ugh... Please stop causing trouble, Duchess Rihardt.'
Unnecessary veins bulged on Dominic's arms as he yanked weeds from the herb garden. The advance payment promised to the loggers for today alone was ten thousand florins in gold. If that were all, he wouldn't complain. But ten thousand was just the start. He had to clothe them, feed them, house them, and care for them if injured. Once they started in earnest, money would leak out endlessly, vanishing without a trace. To summon workers to this rural backwater, he always had to pay extra, but at least now in spring, labor was cheap. He'd expected no one would come with jobs everywhere, but his prediction was dead wrong. Whatever rumors the damned mercenary corps had spread, fifty men gathered at once. Managing that many required more hands, so he'd sent word to Baimar to gather as many servants as possible. Before summer arrived, the duchy would swell by nearly a hundred souls.
"It's not her money, after all. Just like a noble—spends without fear... Argh."
Each time Dominic pulled his arm back, a clump of weeds came out rooted with clumps of dirt. As he yanked weeds in succession, a massive thud hit the back of his head. He knew who without looking.
"Ow, Father! Why hit me?"
Dominic straightened up, glaring at his father after the sudden blow.
"Ugh. You drag your son out when he's finally resting after ages, make him do this crap, and then hit him."
"Rest for what you've done? The Duchess—half your size—works every day."
"She's possessed by a workaholic ghost. Not me. I want to rest today, tomorrow, and laze my whole life."
Even as Dominic bellowed, none of the mercenaries working the herb garden glanced over. The Molly duo bickering was nothing new. If they didn't fight, it'd be weird. Ricardo snatched the small-flowered weed Dominic had gripped and replanted it where his son had just uprooted it. His rough, large hands patted the soil around it with utmost care.
"This is 'valerian,' a herb that aids sleep. Eyes wandering? Confusing herbs with weeds? You dimwit."
"Not over some weed, you hit your precious son's head? With those big hands?"
Ricardo, pressing the soil firmly around the herb, glared over his shoulder, eyes bulging at Dominic.
"Some weed? You've seen with your own eyes the Duchess tending this garden—where do you get off? Flaunting your illiterate mercenary roots?"
"Who said illiterate? I'm suffering 'cause I learned too much. Is that what you say to your son... Hey! Isn't that Daniel?"
Shaking dirt from his hands as he stood, Ricardo now smacked Dominic's back.
"Ow! Father!"
"Watch your mouth. What do you call your lord—'that guy'?"
Ignoring Dominic's grumbling, Ricardo eyed Daniel, stroking his chin with a hum.
"Fierce aura like his prime. Body's recovering well."
Dominic, wriggling from the back pain, turned to Daniel at his father's words.
"When was he ever... I mean, when was the lord not fierce...?"
Sensing an ominous vibe, Dominic nudged his father's shoulder.
"Father. Did you secretly cause trouble again?"
"Me? Did I?"
Dominic alternated glances between nonchalant Ricardo and Daniel striding over like the wind, then tugged his father's arm.
"Forget it. Just run first. Can't you feel he looks ready to kill?"
"I feel it... very well."
As Dominic said, Daniel, spotting Ricardo, approached like a beast eyeing prey. Recognizing his eyes, Dominic recoiled in horror, still dragging his father.
"F-Father. Daniel's eyes... they're..."
"Deeply red."
Instead of fleeing despite knowing, Dominic yanked his father's arm desperately. When Ricardo wouldn't budge, he stepped forward, yelling.
"This is insane. What did you do to make him like that?"
"Step aside, Dominic. The young must live."
"That's what you say to your son...? Argh, frustrating!"
The mercenaries, initially staring blankly at Daniel charging, rose one by one as the mood turned dire.
"You lot! Grab the lord—what are you doing?"
Though they'd dug earth for three years, most had lived on battlefields. Sensing Daniel's killing intent, the mercenaries surged toward their lord.
"Grab him at once. At once. Or we're done."
Daniel drew his sword facing the dozens charging. The mercenaries halted en masse at the lethal sight—all but lead Dominic. As the blade tip touched his shoulder, Dominic dug his boots into the dirt, tensing his legs.
"Step aside. Dominic."
"Why? What flipped your switch?"
"Step aside now, and I won't kill you or that father of yours. Choose. Die here?"
As Daniel pressed, the blade dug shallow but firm into Dominic's shoulder.
"Ugh."
Dominic raised both arms and sidestepped, grimacing. Even when crazed, he never lied. "Won't kill" meant beat to near-death. Better let him vent. Twisting his shoulder slightly, Dominic watched Daniel hurl his sword to the ground and lunge at Ricardo with a fist. He darted between them.
Thud! Struck instead of Ricardo, Dominic toppled like a felled log, wailing.
"Hey! You said you wouldn't kill!"
*** Unable to find Frida in the kitchen, Muriel finally admitted she wasn't in the castle.
"Where on earth did this girl go?"
Frida hated confinement yet kept Muriel's word. She knew from experience that breaking it doubled the lockdown. No one had seen her since lunch despite searching the castle. Her ever-present hat was in her room—why was she gone? No way she'd go out hatless in this weather. Muriel gazed at the clear sky, then called a descending servant. She might've gone to Dominic for the loggers' advance pay.
"Do you know where Dominic Molly is?"
"Not Dominic, but Captain Molly's in the herb garden. Probably together?"
Nodding, Muriel grabbed a wide-brimmed hat from the room. Her descending steps quickened.
"Wandering hatless and getting sunburned—what'll I do with her."
If caught, she'd triple the lockdown. Exiting Marian Hall, Muriel stopped passing Matilda.
"Matilda. If the lady appears while I'm gone, send word to the herb garden."
Matilda's eyes widened in surprise.
"Still haven't found her? You've been searching ages."
"Seems not in the castle."
"Mercy. She knows what happens if the knight catches her. Anyway, our lady's so brave."
"I'm heading to the herb garden for Dominic Molly—tell me right away, got it?"
"Yes, yes. Go quick. I'll drop this bucket in the kitchen and search too."
Nodding, Muriel dashed under the exceptionally clear sky. ***
"Ugh. Thought I was dead."
Dominic, sprawled crushing herbs, clutched his swelling cheek, signaling encircling mercenaries.
"What are you doing? Grab the lord quick."
Now was the chance while he punched, easing strength. Otherwise, no holding the monster. Nearby mercenaries lunged, seizing Daniel's legs, arms, shoulders.
"My lord, calm down."
"Your body isn't fully recovered."
That's why a punch left him like this. Fully recovered, it'd shatter jaws. Dominic, readjusting his slightly misaligned but unbroken jaw, rose shakily. Stars rang; strength slow to return. One hit for him—venting enough. Irritated, he asked held Daniel.
"Why the rampage?"
"Told you not to flap your mouth, Ricardo."
Nearly ten grown men clung to Daniel as he growled at Ricardo. Despite son's displaced jaw and lord's devouring glare, Ricardo remained serene—even smiling faintly. Dominic, touching his split lip, winced incredulously.
'This old man's not senile yet.'
Unable to advance against collective strength, Daniel barked coldly.
"Release and scram!"
Mercenaries eyed Dominic wordlessly. Ricardo spoke first.
"Release the lord and resume work. Untended weeds ruin good soil fast."
Ricardo waved off holding subordinates.
"No slacking. Hurry."
"C-Captain."
"But Captain..."
Hesitant mercenaries eyed Dominic over father. Rational calls favored the son. Still fiddling his jaw, Dominic frowned, waving them off.
"Dismissed for today."
At his word, they scattered from Daniel like startled birds.
"Hey! Dismissed? Come back! We finish today to boast to the Duchess tomorrow."
"Stay put, Father."
As Ricardo turned to halt fleeing men, Dominic sighed, grabbing him.
"Can't take a second hit. I'd die."
"Then why butt in?"
"Watch you get hit?"
"Anyone'd think you're filial."
"Gonna make me sad? Thought my jaw was gone."
A frigid shout cut the bickering.
"Both of you shut up."
