chapter 20:A Little
The season turned from spring to summer. The snow that had hidden in the shade even in spring finally melted away, and a heat haze shimmered and rose from the fields.
The temperature had climbed to the point where one could not bear it without fanning oneself while the sun was out.
However, belying the heat of the day, the room was no different from winter. Though there was no snow, a fierce wind blew, sweeping away all the warmth from the land.
This, too, must be the influence of the Ice Peninsula. It was a strange place.
*Clatter.* The wooden window shook. In Freiche, the central city of Dithmarschen, the windows of the Lord's manor were firmly latched to block the night winds, but the wind battered them as if to break the latch.
At that moment, Priestess Roberta was in her bedroom, set aside in a corner of the Lord's manor, offering her dawn prayers. She placed the symbol of the goddess Ganimea on the table and knelt before it, her hands clasped.
This day marked the second summer she had greeted since her appointment as head priest. It was also several months after she had completed her journey to the Ice Peninsula.
Roberta, who had retraced her journey during her dawn prayers, rose from her spot after a long while. Holding an oil lamp in her right hand, she left the bedroom and walked down the hallway.
Even with a coat over her priestly robes, a chill ran through her body. Listening to the sound of the fierce wind striking the wooden windows, she stopped in front of a certain door in the hallway.
After a moment's hesitation, she knocked. *Knock, knock.*
"Come in."
The reply came as if he had been waiting.
'Excuse me.'
Opening the door revealed an office. A fireplace and a single wooden window, two bookshelves, and beside them, a desk. That was all. Devoid of any decoration, it was simple. No, it was a bleak room.
Ulrich, the Lord of Dithmarschen, had been sitting at his office desk since dawn. Without looking at her, he was writing something with a quill pen, relying on the soft light of a candle.
"Lord?"
Roberta entered and closed the door.
"It's rare for you to seek me out at this hour. Is this the first time?"
Ulrich stopped writing and lifted his face. He was wearing glasses. As far as she knew, his eyesight wasn't poor, but he often wore glasses when reading or writing. The look made him appear quite intellectual, while also adding a few years to his age.
Did I disturb you by coming so suddenly?
"No, you know I don't sleep much. In fact, I welcome the company. Though I doubt you came for a light chat."
"Did I disturb you by coming so suddenly?"
Smiling, Ulrich gestured for her to sit in the chair in front of his desk.
The moment she sat, she shivered. Despite being the Lord's office, it was as cold as the hallway. Wondering why, she looked at the fireplace and saw no sign of a fire having been lit. The strange Lord was spending the night in light clothing, just as he had on the Ice Peninsula.
He took off his glasses, placed them on the desk, and rose to light a fire in the fireplace. Only then did the room brighten a little, beginning to drive out the chill.
"You don't seem to feel the cold, Lord."
"Not at all. I feel it quite well."
"And yet you show no sign of it."
"It's bearable. An adaptation born of time."
Roberta briefly recalled his estimated age. How long would one have to live to not even flinch in the bitter cold of the Ice Peninsula?
"But that's a story too long to hear to the end, and it wouldn't be the answer you're looking for, either. Am I wrong?"
"...No."
"So, what is it you wish to ask me? At this early hour, when even Bernhardt is not yet awake."
As always, there were many things she wanted to ask. The journey on the Ice Peninsula, in particular, was so full of questions that she wondered where to even begin.
From Banares, the Great King of Carbonihar, and Uar, the Giant who did not serve the Creator, to the dragon Narvakayani who wished to understand humans, and even Ulrich's past name, Oscar.
But her reason for seeking him out at this odd hour was none of those. The other questions could wait. She had plenty of time and could unravel them one by one.
"Are you leaving, Lord?"
But what if Ulrich left?
That was a question that had arisen on the Ice Peninsula.
Duke Bailen, the Giant Uar, and the dragon Narvakayani had all testified that the man who used the name Ulrich had lived a life twice as long as his time as the Lord of Dithmarschen. And that in his long life, he had changed his name many times.
Narvakayani had also mentioned that Ulrich had been using his current name for quite a long time and that it was about time he grew tired of it. It was then that Roberta had a sudden thought. Just like the dragon who had left humanity behind, wouldn't Ulrich soon leave as well?
"I am."
Ulrich answered without hesitation.
"May I... ask why?"
"It is simply because I feel the time has come."
The time has come?
"What does that mean?"
"To that question, I must ask one of my own. Why, and until when, do you think I must remain in this position?"
"Pardon?" Roberta said in a single, bewildered word.
"You know the circumstances under which I became the Lord of Dithmarschen."
How could she not? It was a story she had heard many times. Ulrich had married into the family of the previous Lord, Hilde, and had inherited the title upon her death.
"She asked me. To remain even after her death, to protect her people from the snowstorms of the Little Ice Age. And I promised I would."
Though there was another motive, he muttered to himself and continued.
"To me, the title of Count... no, Duke of Dithmarschen is just that. It began with a promise between Hilde and me, and that was kept long ago. Moreover, the winters are now growing shorter. The temperature rises every year."
"Hilde asked me. To remain even after her death, to protect her people from the snowstorms of the Little Ice Age. I am the winters are now growing shorter. The temperature rises every year."
This was called the end of the Little Ice Age.
"The people here will survive even without me. It took longer than expected because there were many problems, but the promise ends there. That was Hilde's request. And when the promise is fulfilled, I have no reason to remain here."
"...I don't quite understand."
Roberta did not know the weight of the promise between Ulrich and Hilde. She could only surmise that he considered it important enough to dedicate 300 years of his life to it.
But what did that have to do with relinquishing his title?
"Was relinquishing your title also part of the promise?"
"No, there was no such promise."
"Then why..."
Why leave just because the promise was kept?
"Don't you think 300 years as the Lord of Dithmarschen is enough? It's a truly long time for any unfulfilled regrets to linger."
She looked at him with an expression of incomprehension.
As she recalled, there were few in history who had done as he did. Those who had, did so to spend their final years in peace, having retired due to old age and frailty, not because they had no lingering attachment to power.
If anyone else had said the same thing, she would have scoffed inwardly. There were many who spoke falsehoods or exaggerations as if they were natural. She knew well that there was no statement that revealed greed more than the words, "I have no greed."
But the man who had refused the throne of a kingdom, the man who had saved the Great King of a nation four times and refused any reward, was the one who said this to her.
"You still don't seem to understand."
"To be honest... yes, it's difficult to accept."
"I believe I've told you before, not to think so complicatedly."
*There's a limit,* she thought, letting out a dry laugh inwardly. How many people would hear something so far beyond common sense and react with, "Ah, I suppose that's possible"?
"Having stayed this long, wouldn't you have grown attached?"
"Attached? Of course, I have."
"Couldn't you stay for that reason, even if not for the title?"
She asked.
What would he do about people like his butler Bernhardt or the clan chief Kurt? If they begged him to remain as Lord, would he still refuse and leave?
"Well, shall I give you an example?"
Ulrich closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and continued.
"Suppose you raise a dog named Iba. And let's add the assumption that Iba's descendants have continued for a long time."
"You have raised Iba's children, and though you may have entrusted a few to people you trust, Iba's line has flourished and continued for some twenty generations."
Reading his hidden meaning, her eyes narrowed.
"It's a metaphor. It doesn't mean I see people as pets. It's an analogy for the feeling of raising someone's descendants generation after generation, living a life longer than others."
........
"Now, think about it. A descendant twenty generations later will have no trace of Iba. At best, the breed or fur color might be similar. In reality, they are a stranger to Iba. Yet, if you are still raising Iba's descendant, why would that be?"
"By then, you wouldn't be raising it because of Iba."
"Yes, that's right. At first, you gave it affection because it was a pup born of Iba, but gradually you come to give affection seeing the child itself. Love is bound to grow when you are close."
......
"Now, think about it. A descendant twenty generations later will have no trace of Iba. At best, the breed or fur color might be similar. In reality, they are a stranger to Iba."
"By then, you wouldn't be raising it because of Iba."
There are many bumps, at first, you gave affection because it was a pup born of Iba, but gradually you come to give affection seeing the child itself, for people grow fond when they are in contact.
But how long will that continue?
He continued.
"You will continue to give affection to Iba's descendants, but can you be certain that will last forever? At some point, won't you think, 'Ah, I'll only look after this one'? Then you'll entrust the pup it bears to another who can love it, and only care for the parent until it grows old and dies, won't you?"
And he asked if she understood the analogy.
No answer came.
She met his gaze in silence. He offered a faint smile, and her eyes trembled. The man before her, the man who claimed to have lived a longer life than anyone, was not a dragon.
The dragon who had embraced a human left when there was nothing more to gain, without any emotion. But the man named Ulrich was human; he had kept his promise for hundreds of years, and now that his purpose was fulfilled, he was preparing for farewell.
Unlike the dragon, he had emotions. Roberta read the complex feelings in Ulrich's voice. It was something only a human who had reached the end of a long promise could possess.
- He seemed like a man whose desires had all burned to ash.
At that moment, she recalled the old priest's words.
The old priest she had met on her way to Dithmarschen had then added, 'Perhaps he has lived longer than records exist, and the years have dulled even his greed.'
"May I ask one more thing?"
Ulrich nodded.
"When you leave, Lord, who will succeed you?"
"Bernhardt. That boy will succeed me. I raised him to do so."
"…Forgive my impertinence, but is there a reason—"
"Are you asking if I'm passing it down to him because he is my descendant?"
Lowering his gaze, he touched the ring on his right index finger. It was a gold ring engraved with the crest of the House of Dithmarschen, something only the head of the house could wear. If he had worn it since inheriting the title, it would have been on his finger for 300 years, yet it was spotless.
"We had no children between us."
We, meant Hilde and Ulrich.
"'Hilde was gravely wounded by the dragon, you see. Because of that, she couldn't have children. The blood that flows in the Hilderson clan today is that of Hilde's relatives and the adopted sons she raised.'"
"Adopted sons?"
"I have never seen a child of his here."
It was just as the Giant Uar had said. Uar had told her that Ulrich never took a new wife and only took in adopted sons. Roberta had thought he might have had several biological children while Hilde was alive, but that wasn't the case either.
"As I always say, I am Ulrich of Dithmarschen. As long as I bear that name, I must fulfill my responsibilities. That is how I avoid dishonoring Hilde. Did you hear my thoughts?"
"Ah. No..."
She averted her gaze, feeling as if he had read her mind.
"Bernhardt's main family is the House of Count Meyer. The blood of Hohenlohe, one of Hilde's most renowned adopted sons, flows in that family. And feeling a deep pride in that, they send their children to me. They hope that I will be reminded of Hohenlohe when I see them."
A futile effort, he said.
'I am not reminded of Hohenlohe by those boys. It's not as if the generations are close, like with Bailen. How much of an ancestor's appearance could
"Bernhardt's main family is the House of Count Meyer. The blood of Hohenlohe, one of Hilde's most renowned adopted sons, flows in that family. And feeling a deep
A futile effort, he said.
'I am not reminded of Hohenlohe by those boys. It's not as if the generations are close, like with Bailen. How much of an ancestor's appearance could remain after so many generations have passed? The reason Bernhardt will succeed me is because he has the ability. There is no other reason."
When he finished speaking, Roberta asked no more. She was at a loss for words in the face of his unvarnished answers.
And just then, there was a soft knock on the door.
"So it's that time already."
The blue light of dawn was seeping in through the sturdy window. As Ulrich had told Roberta he would, he said to the person beyond the door, "Come in." Then, the steward, Bernhardt Meyer, entered the office and greeted them.
"Good morning, Lord."
Bernhardt's expression was stiff. Contrary to his harsh appearance, he was a man of gentle character who always wore a faint smile, but now his face was so rigid even she could notice. He must have overheard the conversation between Roberta and Ulrich.
'I was careless,' she chided herself inwardly.
So engrossed in conversation that she hadn't even noticed the sun rising, it was no wonder she hadn't heard the approaching footsteps. Bernhardt must have surely heard his lord speak of his intention to leave.
However, he forced his stiff expression into a smile. Acting like a steward who had heard nothing, he approached his lord as he always did.
"You are not alone today."
"And you are not alone today either."
There was a boy standing next to Bernhardt.
Fritz Meyer, a boy about to turn sixteen. As his surname suggested, he was from the same family, but he was not Bernhardt's son. He was the fourth son of Bernhardt's younger brother, currently in training to assist the Lord after Bernhardt.
"Yes. From now on, this boy will be joining me."
"You're teaching him already? Isn't it too soon?"
"It is not too soon. It is too late."
Bernhardt laughed, telling him to consider his age.
"I see.:"
"Do not worry. Even if I depart, this child will remain."
Watching the two converse, Roberta suddenly understood the meaning behind Bernhardt's actions.
Think about it. Ulrich was not a man who deceived others. Nor was he one to hide things. How could Bernhardt, who had served him for far longer than she, not know of such a change in his lord?
With a wrinkled hand, Bernhardt took the boy Fritz by the shoulder and pulled him forward, so that Ulrich could reach out and stroke the boy's head.
It was like a mother dog carrying her pup to her master, she thought, as if to imprint upon the master that this was her child. It was also a way of asking him to watch over the boy, at least until his time was done. Bernhardt's ancestors must have done the same.
But that could not last forever. As Ulrich had said, at some point, he would decide to part ways. She did not know when that time would be, but to Roberta, it did not feel so far away.
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