“The forest’s finally over. Hey, Raen. Look. It opens up here.”
Raen looked ahead with eyes swollen from crying all night.
“It’s… wide here…”
Maho glanced at Raen’s face and clicked his tongue.
“Tch.”
Then he jerked his chin toward the delegation visible in the distance,
and toward the small village situated even farther beyond it.
“Hey, Raen. If we go to that village, you might be able to meet Bido.”
Raen’s eyes sparkled for an instant.
His drooping tail shot straight up.
“Really?!”
“Yeah. They’ll probably stop by there. Then you’ll have a chance.”
“Yeah…!”
Raen’s momentum, as if he might run off at any moment, did not last long.
His tail slowly sank again.
“Bido… must be in so much pain…”
Maho looked down at Raen,
then let out a low breath, as if fed up.
“Honestly.”
Maho said no more and walked ahead.
The forest had already fallen far behind them.
Beyond the sparse trees that remained, an open plain stretched without obstruction,
and the low roofs of a village could be seen in the distance.
“Anyway, let’s go, Raen.”
Maho spoke curtly without looking back.
“Even if you can’t face him right away, there’ll definitely be a chance.”
Raen lifted his head.
A hopeful light passed through his eyes for a moment,
but sorrow soon covered it again.
Still, without saying anything, he followed behind Maho.
His limp tail swayed weakly in time with his steps.
In the distance, the delegation’s procession could be seen moving slowly.
It was clear they, too, were heading toward the same village.
Raen pressed his lips tightly together as he watched.
He might be able to see Bido.
But if he really did face him,
he had no idea what expression he should make.
The two of them walked on in silence.
At the end of the same road,
the same village was waiting.
—
The delegation moved along the road.
The slow procession, carrying the wounded and pulling wagons, was unable to pick up speed as easily as expected.
Only when the sun had begun to sink over the open road,
and the shadows had stretched long, did the outline of the village ahead begin to grow clear.
Once they drew closer, the village proved to be the sort commonly seen near a border.
Low houses and storehouses stood here and there along the roadside,
and to one side there was an empty lot for parking wagons, as well as a cowshed where blue oxen could be tied.
It was not large,
but neither was it shabby like some isolated hamlet.
The people out by the road turned their gazes one by one toward the approaching procession.
At first, they seemed to take it for a merchant caravan attempting to cross the border,
but the closer it came, the more their expressions subtly changed.
The overly slow pace, the wounded loaded onto the wagons,
and even the guards silently watching their surroundings.
Somehow, it was different from an ordinary merchant caravan.
Some tilted their heads in curiosity,
and some stopped whatever work they were doing for no reason and simply stared at them.
But no one approached first to speak.
In a village near the border,
it was more common not to open one’s mouth unnecessarily to a strange procession.
Miryeong said as she looked over the inside of the village.
“It’s quieter than I expected.”
Raymond also turned his gaze and examined the roadside.
“Yes. I don’t see any other merchant caravans or processions besides us.”
Miryeong narrowed her eyes.
“You’re sure it’s all right?”
Raymond chose his words for a moment before answering.
“Carmen also conducts trade by sea.”
“The roads leading across the border are not always crowded,”
“so I don’t think we can call the village strange just because it is quiet.”
Even after saying that, he looked into the village once more.
“However… we will need the process of crossing the border to go without issue as well.”
Miryeong gave a short nod.
“Right. For now, let’s find a place to stay.”
Just then, Ayla pointed ahead with her chin.
“Wouldn’t that place up ahead do?”
Raymond looked ahead and said,
“Good. Please stop the wagons in front of the building. I’ll go in first.”
Miryeong immediately said,
“I’m going with you.”
Raymond and Miryeong went on ahead and entered a building that looked like an inn.
Behind them, Jincheong and Ed cleared a place for the wagons to stop and calmed the blue oxen.
The procession, having entered at a slow pace, came to a temporary halt in front of the building.
Before long, Raymond and Miryeong came back outside.
Behind them followed people who appeared to be workers from the inn.
Raymond said,
“We will rest here tonight as planned. First, let’s unload the wounded.”
Miryeong immediately climbed onto the wagon Bido was riding in.
Bido raised his head and looked at her.
“Ah… Lady Miryeong.”
Miryeong first examined Bido’s face.
His complexion had clearly improved a little.
Only after confirming that did her gaze move to Bido’s forehead.
“Bido.”
Miryeong spoke quietly.
“Your forehead.”
Bido immediately understood what she meant.
As he lowered his eyes for a moment, the faint crescent mark lingering on Bido’s forehead slowly faded,
then vanished completely.
Seeing that, Miryeong relaxed the corners of her mouth ever so slightly.
“Looks like you’ve gotten quite used to it now.”
Bido also smiled faintly.
First, the medical officer and the other wounded climbed down from the wagons with support.
After watching that for a moment, Miryeong turned her head.
“Wolryeon, Jincheong. Both of you, get up here. Let’s move Bido.”
As the two of them immediately climbed onto the wagon,
the medical officer spoke in a low voice beside them.
“You must be careful not to let the wound open again.”
“Especially his upper body. It must not shake.”
Miryeong looked at Bido and said quietly,
“Bido, bear with it just a little.”
Bido bit his lip hard and nodded.
Miryeong first supported Bido’s back and the rear of his shoulders,
while Wolryeon and Jincheong carefully supported him from below.
The moment his body was lifted even slightly, Bido’s face twisted at once.
“Ugh… ngh…!”
A short groan slipped out, but Bido gritted his teeth to keep himself from struggling to the end.
The three of them descended from the wagon very slowly, doing their utmost to keep him from shaking.
A stretcher had been prepared below.
The medical officer layered thick cloth so that Bido would not be laid completely flat but could lean against it,
and Bido was carefully moved onto it.
Bido’s breath trembled roughly.
He had only been moved for a short while,
but even in that brief span, cold sweat had formed on his forehead.
Miryeong looked down at Bido and said,
“You did well. Just hold on a little longer.”
The medical officer watching from beside them also gave a small nod.
“It should still be better than spending the night on a wagon on the road.”
Just then, several of the inn workers approached the stretcher, intending to lift Bido and carry him.
But Miryeong stepped forward first and blocked them.
“We’ll take him, so handle the other things first.”
The workers did not try to touch him unnecessarily and immediately stepped back.
Instead, they began unloading from the wagons, one by one, the luggage pointed out by the scribe and the medical officer.
Boxes of medicinal ingredients, bundles of bandages, boxes containing records,
and the items the wounded would need at once were moved first.
Bido barely relaxed his grimacing expression and cautiously opened his mouth.
“Lady Miryeong… my… Sword of Tiamar…”
Miryeong’s gaze turned toward the inside of the wagon.
Beside the place where Bido had been leaning,
she saw the sword that had been carefully secured within his reach.
Though the long, rough, bone-colored blade merely lay still,
it felt strangely alien, as though it were alive somehow.
Miryeong looked at it silently for a moment,
then turned her head back toward Bido.
“…No. Forget about it for tonight.”
She continued firmly.
“Let’s leave it in the wagon. Other than you, there’s no one who can properly carry it anyway.”
Anxiety crossed Bido’s face.
Leaving the sword behind was something he could not feel at ease about, even for a brief moment.
But Bido himself knew better than anyone
that in his current state, there was nothing he could do.
In the end, Bido slowly nodded.
“…Yes.”
Without saying anything more, Miryeong firmly gripped one side of the stretcher again.
“Now, Wolryeon. Lift carefully.”
Wolryeon also gave a short nod.
The two of them lifted the stretcher with as little shaking as possible,
and, carrying Bido, began slowly making their way into the inn.
The inside of the inn was a little more spacious than it had appeared from outside.
As soon as they opened the door and entered, the smell of old wood and the faint scent of soup brushed past them.
There were signs that preparations for the evening business had been underway,
but the inside was excessively quiet.
Several tables and long benches were set out,
and in the corner, people who seemed to be villagers had stopped what they were doing and were glancing at the delegation.
Miryeong swept her gaze over them once, then immediately turned her head toward Raymond.
“Where?”
Raymond had already finished a brief conversation with the innkeeper.
He pointed to the inner corridor and said,
“They say they have emptied the room farthest inside.”
“We have decided to move the wounded there first.”
“Good.”
Without asking anything more, Miryeong immediately started walking.
Each time the stretcher shook, Bido’s breath trembled faintly.
The floor of the inn was certainly better than the dirt road,
but even the brief movements of crossing the threshold and turning through the narrow corridor were by no means easy for Bido as he was now.
Cold sweat gathered again around Bido’s eyes as he endured it through gritted teeth.
When the door at the end of the corridor opened, the room inside was simpler than expected.
Two low beds placed along the wall and one small table,
a jar for water and a washbasin,
and a single oil lamp to be lit once the sun had fully set were all it contained.
It was not spacious,
but at the very least, it was enough to hide a wounded person from the wind and eyes outside.
The medical officer entered first and examined the bed, then quickly gestured.
“You cannot lay him down flat as he is. His upper body needs to be slightly raised.”
The thick blankets and bundles of cloth brought by the inn staff were hastily layered on top of the bed.
After touching them a few times as if measuring the angle with his hands, the medical officer nodded.
“Good. Slowly.”
Miryeong and Wolryeon set the stretcher down beside the bed, then matched their breathing once more.
“Bido.”
Miryeong spoke low.
“This is the last time. Hold on just a little longer.”
Bido nodded faintly with his eyes closed.
The three of them lifted Bido’s body even more carefully than before.
The moment his back touched the bed and his upper body leaned against the piled blankets,
an involuntary groan escaped through Bido’s lips.
“Ngh…!”
It was a short sound,
but that one sound alone was enough to show how much pain it carried.
Miryeong’s brows immediately furrowed, but the tips of her fingers did not waver until the end.
Only after she and Wolryeon adjusted Bido’s posture did she slowly remove her hands.
The medical officer came over at once and checked whether the bandages had shifted,
and whether blood had begun seeping out again.
After a moment of held breath passed,
he exhaled very softly, as if relieved.
“It has not opened. If he gets through tonight well, tomorrow should be a little better than now.”
Only after hearing those words did Miryeong look down at Bido’s face again.
Bido was still pale,
but at least now he was not on a wagon on the road, but inside a room with walls and a roof.
Standing beside the bed, Miryeong said shortly,
“Now get some rest.”
Bido faintly lifted his eyes and looked at Miryeong.
And instead of answering, he only nodded very slightly.