10 - Side Story - Leonardo's Perspective - Benefactor's Daughter 2
The story told by the young girl who called herself Tina exceeded expectations. I had predicted that there would be at most some sick people, but it is no exaggeration to say the village has been wiped out. The only ones barely surviving are Tina and her father, and everyone else died of illness. The supplies the village chief requested came too late and are now useless.
...This is a problem. I am also suspected of infection.
A mysterious disease spread through the village, and Tina is the girl who survived in a village where most of the villagers died of illness. There is no guarantee that this Tina has not been infected herself, and with the transmission route still unclear, I, who picked her up, should assume I may be infected as well. A disease that can destroy an entire village cannot be brought back to the fortress.
I ordered my subordinates not to touch me and had them search the houses of the village. After all, it is the word of a young girl. There may yet be villagers alive somewhere. Having finished giving the necessary orders, I dispersed my men. I lowered Tina, whom I had been holding, to the ground and asked her to guide us. After receiving the firewood from Alf, Tina pulled my hand.
"This way."
The house Tina guided me to was an ordinary house. When we arrived, Tina released my hand, which she had been holding, and went around to the back of the house still carrying the firewood. When I vaguely followed behind Tina around to the back, she scolded me, having placed the firewood beside what appeared to be a back door.
"Guests come through the front door. This one's wrong."
With an adorably indignant furrow of her brows, she pushed me back. When I turned my body around, Tina immediately circled in front and pulled my hand.
Once properly guided inside through the front door, the interior felt narrower than it had appeared from outside. A workbench and farming tools were in a corner of the living room, and around the central table were five chairs. One of them had cushions and various things piled up to adjust its height, so that chair must be Tina's seat.
"This here is the bedroom."
In a small house, there is no passageway like a hallway. Opening the door in the living room led directly to the bedroom.
"Papa, the knight's here."
I heard Tina's voice as she entered the bedroom first. When I stepped through the bedroom door a moment later, Tina was pattering about the room. Shifting my gaze from Tina, who was opening drawers and searching for something, I turned my face toward the person lying on the bed. The face of the man whose shoulders shook heavily with each cough was familiar. He was not someone who should have been lying in a shabby bed in a remote village like this.
"Lord Saromon, why are you in a place like this...!"
Thinking it might be someone who merely resembled him, I rushed to the bedside to confirm. His once-lustrous golden hair had lost its sheen, and his eyes, which once sparkled like amethysts, had lost their brilliance. His condition was such that one could hardly believe he was the same person, but there was no way I would mistake Saromon's face. Even if Saromon himself had forgotten my face, I would never forget. I had that confidence.
Saromon, having been addressed, let his gaze wander slightly as if thinking, then smiled the same gentle smile he had shown me long ago.
"Leonardo, is it. ...You have become a fine knight. I hardly recognized you."
"Yes. It is all thanks to you, Lord Saromon."
More than ten years ago, he had only taken care of me for a truly short time, but Saromon had apparently remembered my face. That alone filled my heart, and my questions were blown away somewhere. Even if he was somewhat soiled, the man before my eyes was my benefactor himself, not some close look-alike.
"Tina, this is Leonardo."
Drawing Tina close, who had been about to move away from the bed, Saromon introduced me to his daughter. Seeing parent and child side by side, it was clear that Tina resembled her father. The bridge of her nose and the shape of her eyes made me imagine that Saromon must have had such features when he was young. The face that tilted in confusion, looking back and forth between my face and her father's, was unlike the always dignified expression Saromon wore. In mannerisms and expressions, she must take after her mother.
"Long ago, I gave him his name. ...In a manner of speaking, I am his name-giver."
At being told he was a name-giver, Tina tilted her head. Perhaps she did not understand the meaning of the word. However, Saromon continued speaking without waiting for his daughter's understanding.
"If I am to be considered a parent, then you two would be brother and sister."
Beside Tina, who looked increasingly bewildered as if she could not understand the reason at all, I, for my part, felt a strange sense of emotion. Over ten years ago, I had become utterly alone in the world, and now, through the relationship of being my name-giver's daughter, I had suddenly gained a little sister. I had gained family.
As a reason, that alone was enough.
"As an older brother sharing the same parent, could I entrust Tina to you?"
"Yes. Leave it to me."
Though he was hesitant, my benefactor — my name-giver — relied on me, and I accepted without the slightest hesitation. I, who had once done nothing but rely on others, was now being relied upon by Saromon, my benefactor, and that made me happy. If I could repay even a little of my debt, and if it was for the family I had just gained, there was not a single thing to trouble myself over. Just as Saromon had once done for me, I resolved to protect Tina as an older brother, as a guardian in place of a parent, until she decided her own path.
"...Knowing I can entrust this to you puts my heart at ease."
So he smiled, and quietly, Saromon passed away. He must have been sustained by willpower alone, finding peace once he had found someone to entrust his beloved daughter to.
That I reunited with Saromon in a village I had visited for another matter was entirely by chance, but I could not help thanking the gods. Had I not visited the village today, I would have never known of my benefactor's death, would never have been entrusted with his daughter, would never have been able to repay my debt. My little sister, left behind alone in the village, would have starved to death, been carried off by slave traders, or even if she had survived, would not have been able to live a decent life. I am not particularly devout, but today, at least, I could not help but believe in the existence of the gods.
I thought Tina would weep at losing her father, but perhaps she had already prepared herself, having seen villager after villager die. When Tina understood her father's death, her face contorted for an instant, looking as if she might burst into tears, and then her expression immediately went blank. No matter how much you cry, the dead will not come back to life. She understands that well.
When I consulted Tina about Saromon's burial, she answered that a grave had already been prepared. When digging his wife's grave, Saromon himself had apparently dug his own grave as well. She told me that she had helped too. When I thought about what kind of feelings Tina must have had, helping to dig a grave for a father who was still alive, my heart ached with sorrow.
...If only I had come to this village a little sooner.
The outcome would not have changed at all. But Tina might not have had to help dig her father's grave. If it were a grave for a father who had lived out his natural span, she might have dug it someday in the future, but she would never have had to dig a grave as a young child, having suddenly lost her father to illness.
I laid Saromon's body, wrapped in a sheet, into the grave and placed upon it the boxes Tina had found. One to prove Saromon's identity, and the other a ring proving that Tina is Saromon's daughter.
...Someday, when Tina needs them, we will have to dig them back up.
Thinking of that, it might be wise to reconsider burying them together with Saromon. The body will someday return to the earth, but when necessity forces the boxes to be unearthed, I would wish to avoid having Saromon's remains dug up along with them. Disturbing the peaceful slumber of the dead, even if it is by his daughter, should be avoided.
I returned the soil until the body was fully hidden, then placed the box with the ring at the position of Saromon's chest. After that, Tina and I worked in silence, returning the excavated earth to the grave, and completed Saromon's burial.
Even when her father's body was completely hidden beneath the soil, Tina did not cry. It seemed a little unnatural for a young child, but when I observed carefully, I noticed that she would pause in her work of marking the spot where the box was buried and occasionally sniffle. In front of an adult she did not know well, she must have felt she could not cry even if she wanted to. Realizing that, I recalled how she had been when we first met. Whether because she was frightened by the unfamiliar, intimidating-faced knights, or because she was relieved to finally meet a healthy adult after so long, Tina had burst into loud tears. Like a child, with all her strength, she had cried while hiccupping.
...That must be the real Tina.
Though it was Saromon's contrivance, Tina and I had become brother and sister. As her brother, I want to quickly earn my little sister's trust. I want to reassure her that it is all right to cry loudly, that it is all right to lean on me.
That is what I think, but...
...The conversation will not flow.
I had decided to take Tina in, but as a practical matter, I could not bring her to town right away. She is the sole survivor of a village destroyed by a mysterious disease. It is safer to assume Tina herself is infected, and I, having picked her up and spoken with Saromon, cannot be called safe either. For matters concerning illness and medicine, I decided to rely on the wise woman living in Waiyakku Valley, but on the way there, though I tried to strike up conversation with Tina, who was riding on the horse with me, the talk would not flow easily. She answered honestly when asked, but never brought up a topic herself.
...Is she bad at talking?
At first, with her halting way of adding "desu" and "masu," I thought she might simply struggle with speaking politely, but that does not seem to be the case. When she tries to speak a little longer, her tongue cannot keep up, and "nya" and "nyo" sounds slip out frequently. Perhaps aware of this herself, when her mispronunciations continue, she closes her mouth to avoid further mistakes. Her poor speaking must come from avoiding talking out of fear of making mistakes.
...Even though I keep telling her "Leo" is fine.
It seems the name "Leonardo" is too long for Tina. No matter how many times she practices, it comes out as "Leonyaldo." I have told her over and over that the nickname "Leo" is fine, but Tina stubbornly kept practicing calling me "Leonyaldo."
...Is that her way of saying "I will never accept you as my brother!!"?
A thought popped into my head, but I immediately dismissed it. Tina, who said she was eight, speaks with a childish lisp, but she is obedient and thinks things through carefully. Whether thanks to Saromon's upbringing, she is a clever girl for an eight-year-old. Even if her inner feelings are complicated, she would not deliberately stir up conflict with someone who is about to become her guardian. In that case, the opposite conclusion seems more likely.
...She is overthinking everything and cannot just lean on a person she only just met.
Being too sharp-minded has its own problems.
Watching Tina's head sway in front of me as she dozed off, I asked, "Getting sleepy?" Each time, Tina shook her head just slightly and answered, "No." After being rocked on horseback for hours, a child's stamina would be nearing its limit. On top of that, today she lost her father and expended energy burying him. What is more, there must also be the mental fatigue of being surrounded by unfamiliar adults.
So that it would be all right whenever Tina fell asleep, I pulled her small body close to keep her from falling. For an instant, tension ran through Tina's body, and there was a slight resistance, but she did not struggle particularly. Once she realized her body had simply been secured, the strength drained from her. After a while, she leaned her small weight against my chest. It seemed she had finally lost to the drowsiness.
Perhaps dreaming, Tina called out for her parents over and over, her hands wandering. When I grasped her outstretched hand, Tina smiled brightly and shed a single tear.
[Author's Note] Regarding the debt owed to Saromon-san and such, there are plans for Tina to explain it in the main story, so please just let it flow past for now. I think explaining the same thing multiple times would be annoying, after all.