When the freezing winter winds sweep in [Novel] Chapter 8 – Return of the Duke

It had not happened within the domain Baldur ruled.

After sweeping a frigid gaze over the woman, he had spoken to the escort officer.

‘She won’t last long. Typical. And here I thought Franc had finally sent someone useful for once.’

Had he not needed a tutor, he might have abandoned Jeanne at the inn. But if this woman perished, he had no alternative. Although her state hardly inspired confidence, Baldur had brought her to the estate, determined to provide his ward with a proper education, and nursed the spark of life back into her like kindling an ember on the verge of dying out.

Several days later, the exile awakened. She was still so frail and sickly she looked as if a gust of wind might blow her away, and the moment she rose, she had done something utterly unpromising by mistaking the mist for smoke and dashing outside. Yet when he shared a meal and spoke with her, he found her unexpected breadth of knowledge quite agreeable.

‘Yes, just as I thought!’

She had provided answers far more satisfying across the board than any of the tutors he had interviewed before. Just as he was beginning to warm to her, however, she abruptly vomited right as he entrusted his child’s education to her.

‘Will she be all right?’

Baldur felt an uneasy misgiving.

‘What if she’s dead by the time I return?’

She looked too feeble to live long. If he brought her in as a tutor only for her to drop dead, would it not inflict yet another wound on his niece, who had already lost her parents?

Yet he had no proper alternative in this situation. In the end, Baldur appointed the woman named Jeanne as his niece’s tutor, then departed the manor the very next day. He set out to annihilate the pirates who raided the northernmost coastal regions of Skadi Territory every summer.

Of course, going back several centuries, he shared the same ancestry as those pirates. That was why the nobility feigned deference toward him as a great noble while looking down on him behind his back. But had not enough time passed for ten generations to come and go? Central nobles, preening about their blue-blooded heritage, would have found themselves descended from illiterate farmers tilling fields if traced back just as far. Moreover, in the present day, he was the kingdom’s shield against pirate invasions.

The reason the pirates swarmed every summer was that they typically sowed their crops between winter and spring as their lands began to thaw, and once the sea ice melted in summer, they launched their vessels to embark on pillaging. In autumn, they would return home with their plunder, harvest their crops, repair their battered ships throughout the winter, and hone their weapons to prepare for the next year’s raids.

The pirates sometimes arrived in small raiding parties of two or three ships, but at their worst, they assembled massive fleets thousands strong to invade. Once a large-scale horde landed on the coast, nothing remained in their wake. Not content merely to seize provisions, they set fire to villages, slaughtered everyone, and fled. When soldiers finally arrived after receiving word, it was always too late, leaving them to confront nothing but devastated ruins.

When dealing with ruthless savages, one had to be even more ruthless. Ever since becoming duke, Baldur had answered them by building fortifications throughout the winter after they withdrew, turning the entire coastline into a chain of fortress towns. When the pirates made landfall as before, they panicked before towering walls they could not scale, only to be turned into pincushions for arrows.

Then Baldur drove stakes into the shores and impaled the arrow-riddled corpses, putting them on display for seabirds to peck clean. If any pirates ever managed to land, they would see the bodies of former comrades or neighbors and know the very same fate awaited them.

Next, rather than waiting for pirate raids, Baldur mounted counter-strikes directly against their strongholds. His objective was neither plunder nor spoils, but death. Striking villages left with only women, the elderly, and children awaiting husbands who had sailed overseas to pillage proved easy. Just as the pirates had done, he put their villages to the torch, stamping out their bloodlines. Thanks to this, large-scale pirate incursions dropped sharply. They feared returning home laden with booty only to find their families wiped out.

With such tactics, Baldur protected the lives of his domain’s people, yet within Lancis itself, he earned the dishonorable reputation of a bloodthirsty warmonger. Naturally, he did not care in the least. A ruthless reputation served well to strike terror into enemies, both abroad and at home.

That summer as well, Baldur spent his days mopping up remnants of the pirates. Leading his soldiers along the shores, he slaughtered foes with the methodical diligence of a farmer. And before autumn arrived, he returned to his estate.

Steeped in blood and exhaustion, Baldur rode back to the manor only to find two women sitting on the garden lawn in flower crowns, chattering away. One was his adopted daughter, and the other was a woman he did not recognize. The woman wearing a flower crown had thick brown hair braided like a maiden’s and draped over one shoulder, with fresh blossoms tucked between the plaits.

‘Who is that?’

Seeing his scowl, the woman froze in fright, like a rabbit cornered by a hound. Watching her wide eyes—which appeared green or brown depending on the light—he wondered to himself.

‘Was there such a woman in the manor?’

Before long, Baldur realized the unfamiliar woman was the tutor he had hired prior to leaving the estate. Her complexion looked so much healthier that he had failed to recognize her. Keeping his mount moving toward the manor, he simply shook his head.

‘Repeating the mistakes of previous tutors, I see.’

Occupied with flattery instead of teaching lessons. He had hired her as a tutor, not as a nursemaid. Baldur de Skadi resolved to dismiss the tutor the moment he entered the residence.

Upon reaching the manor, he received a bath from his attendants, then addressed the most pressing matters of neglected administration. By the time he caught his breath, the sun had already set. It was then that he recalled the woman wearing the flower crown. He sent for his adopted daughter.

Seated in the chair of his study, Baldur leveled a frigid glare at her and asked.

He had not asked out of curiosity. He intended to reprimand a child who still failed to comprehend what her station demanded. Yet the reply he received, though hesitant with fear, was entirely unexpected.

If it were that simple, would former tutors have called her a fool?

Assuming Ana was lying, he signaled an attendant with a flick of his finger to bring writing implements, a desk, and a chair to expose the falsehood.