Shadow Oath

Chapter 14: Jedric

‘Count Badio suspects me.’

Ram, while patrolling around Jedric’s tent at night, recalled the count’s expression from their evening encounter.

‘General Terrdin made a mistake. He should’ve treated me like Master Selkon used to.’

Selkon never gave Ram any rank or task beyond that of a slave carrying food and burdens.

Though there were rewards after completing assassinations, they were no better than what an efficient slave might receive.

Other slaves never even imagined Ram was handling something extraordinary.

But Terrdin? He treated Ram with obvious special care for all to see.

While it was true that hiding it forever wasn’t possible, Ram didn’t want things this way.

In truth, there were already two guards assigned to watch Jedric’s tent, so Ram didn’t need to be as meticulous.

Still, unpleasant thoughts kept surfacing.

‘How does a curse even begin?’

He sniffed the air absentmindedly, recalling the scent of the two powders shown to him by the sorcerers.

But there was nothing unusual.

As nothing happened, his thoughts only deepened, and he kept revisiting what the sorcerer had told him.

What was it they said about curses?

An arrow might miss its mark due to a sudden gust of wind.

Or it could be blocked by a shield.

Or perhaps, the arrow struck true but failed to kill.

An arrow and a shield.

‘So, that sorcerer cast a spell on you.’

The words of the young sorcerer lingered in his mind.

Magic.

A witch’s spell.

The witch who spread sinister rumors about Baron Selkon.

‘Enough. Stop thinking. You need to forget.’

Whenever he faced struggles or troubling thoughts as a slave, Ram would focus entirely on his immediate task.

It was the only way to forget.

‘Master always said the same thing. Don’t think. Just follow orders!’

And so he did.

“Do you need anything else?”

Ram entered the tent and sat before Jedric, asking respectfully.

Jedric, having finished his meal, had only empty bowls before him.

Jedric shook his head.

“If you have anything to report to General Terrdin, I can deliver it directly without any intermediaries.”

Ram repeated.

“I already did.”

When Jedric finally spoke, it was curt.

Still, encouraged by the fact that Jedric spoke at all, Ram tried to keep the conversation going.

“If there’s anything lacking in your meals, let me know. I’ll prepare something similar to your liking.”

“I’m satisfied as is.”

Though he wanted to ask more, it was clear Jedric had no intention of continuing the conversation.

A slave must retreat when their master shows disinterest.

Just as Ram was about to rise, Jedric asked,

“Will you be attending to me from now on? What about the man named Jenabin?”

“That knight was called away on urgent matters, so I’ve taken over his duties.”

“Then we’ll meet often. It’s better to have a name to call you by. What should I call you?”

Looking at the empty bowl, Ram thought to himself.

‘Why do people insist on calling the Gerans savages?’

Jedric neither spilled food nor showed ignorance of table manners.

While tales claimed the Gerans tore into raw meat with bare hands, drank blood, and couldn’t handle milk, Jedric displayed none of that.

He even handled a fork better than most soldiers.

‘Come to think of it, he doesn’t ask me to taste the food first. Considering it’s from the enemy, doesn’t he fear it’s poisoned?’

Ram picked up the bowls and replied,

“Call me Shadow.”

“I may lack proficiency in southern common speech, but I know that isn’t a name.”

“It means I have no name and wish to be called that.”

“Are you referring to the shade under a tree, or the illusion of something that seems to exist but doesn’t?”

“In southern language, it can mean either.”

“Then I’ll call you Stuga, as it bears a similar meaning in our tongue.”

Since he was now nameless, any title would suffice.

“That’s fine.”

“I have a question, Stuga.”

“I’ll answer everything I know.”

Jedric pointed to the bowl he had eaten from and asked,

“Is this cow’s milk?”

“It’s goat’s milk.”

“Did they bring goats to the battlefield?”

“I don’t know. When I arrived, goats were already scattered around the camp.”

“They must have stolen them from us.”

“I’m not sure where they came from.”

“Do you know our women haven’t had goat’s milk in months, and our children have no milk from their mothers?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Why did your people attack us?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re in a position to attend to me alone, yet you claim to know nothing?”

“I have no position.”

“What rank do you hold?”

“None.”

“You truly know nothing.”

“I know nothing.”

Ram waited for Jedric to say more.

But Jedric remained silent.

He didn’t mention curses or ask any personal questions.

Since there was no mention of curses, Ram didn’t bring up the soldier who drowned in the waste pit, as General Terrdin had told him.

Though he was curious, Ram didn’t dare ask first.

The following morning, a short alarm trumpet sounded early.

A Geran man approached the southern camp.

Though he rode a horse, he moved slower than walking pace.

Southern soldiers were wary but didn’t prepare for battle.

The man was an unarmed elder clad only in armor.

Ram recognized him as an elder named Saom.

Saom was escorted to Jedric’s tent, where he unloaded the bundle from his horse.

One of the soldiers checked its contents.

There were no weapons.

Jedric stepped out of the tent and greeted Saom.

“Are you well, Jeje?”

The elder’s words were slurred, making the already difficult Geran language harder to understand.

In contrast, Jedric’s pronunciation was clear, even easier to understand than that of southern soldiers speaking common tongue.

“Yes, Elder Saom. General Terrdin is treating me well.”

Saom bowed his head and stepped back, and Jedric dragged the item from his horse and placed it in front of the tent for all to see.

It was a funeral offering.

Jedric wrapped Mantum’s head, given by General Terrdin, in a blue cloth.

Left a few times, then right a few times.

It seemed there was a set number, as he carefully counted the repetitions alongside Saom.

The way it was tied—crossing and securing—was neat, deliberate, and even sacred in appearance.

Once the blue cloth was knotted, Jedric placed the head in an obsidian box.

Jedric handled all the work alone.

Although Ram considered assisting, he hesitated, worried that offering help might disrupt their customs.

Saom, too, only responded to questions without intervening.

Ram stayed nearby, ready to help if asked, but no such request came until the task was completed.

“All done,” Jedric said to Terrdin.

“In any nation, it is customary for a son to see his father off personally. Do as you wish, Elhorn,” Terrdin replied.

“May I escort it myself?”

Jedric asked.

“Follow the elder and return afterward.”

“…I will do so.”

Badio, who had been listening nearby, was startled and tried to intervene.

“What are you saying, General?” he exclaimed.

“Didn’t you hear? I said he should take Mantum’s head and come back,” Terrdin replied calmly.

“Are you saying you’ll let him go free?”

“I never said that. He came on his own; he’ll return on his own.”

Terrdin turned to Adun, his adjutant, and gave further instructions.

“Bring a mount for the chieftain and take a few men to accompany him.”

Then, glancing at Ram, he simply gestured. Ram nodded in response.

Ram noticed Badio observing this exchange closely.

‘Should I tell General Terrdin about what happened with Count Badio yesterday?’ he pondered.

Even now, Ram hadn’t found a chance to meet Terrdin alone.

The general was preoccupied with the impending arrival of the king.

‘I’ll find an opportunity. It doesn’t seem that urgent anyway…’

Ram refrained from looking at Terrdin again until the procession carrying the obsidian box set off.

Jedric and Elder Saom led the way, followed by Adun and Ram. Six knights flanked them in a fan formation.

The soldiers remained silent until they reached the Skara Grasslands.

While the southern troops hadn’t shown any particular courtesy, their silence lent an air of solemnity to the funeral procession.

Beyond the ridge of the grasslands, dozens of Gerans awaited.

The sight was intimidating, almost as if they were lined up for battle.

A few accompanying knights instinctively pulled their reins, causing their horses to rear.

Adun calmly raised his hand, signaling the group to halt.

“We’ll wait here,” Adun said in a warning tone to Jedric.

“Go on, then,” he added.

Jedric and Saom proceeded ahead.

“Maintain formation. Make it look like the six of us can take them all on,” Adun instructed in a voice brimming with bravado.

Ram was momentarily unsure of what to do. Terrdin had only told him to accompany the group, not given specific instructions.

Adun’s orders were directed at the six knights, not Ram. Additionally, Jedric hadn’t asked Ram to follow.

By Terrdin’s original directive, Ram’s mission was unchanged.

Protect Jedric.

Ram could only continue to follow that command.

Jedric didn’t say anything as Ram followed him.

Even Saom had no comment.

Soon, Ram found himself approaching nearly a hundred Geran warriors.

These elite fighters were said to be able to take on ten Triton soldiers each.

Terrdin often remarked that if war were to break out again, they’d stand no chance against the Gerans.

The warriors surrounded Jedric and Ram in an instant.

Although they didn’t appear overtly threatening, the pressure was palpable. Still, they didn’t take any action against Ram.

Some cast fleeting glances his way, but nothing more.

Ram quietly observed the process of the Gerans receiving Mantum’s head.

They spoke in a complex, unintelligible language while tying the obsidian box with ropes made of multicolored threads.

The box was then placed on a makeshift litter carried by four men.

As those four set off, the remaining warriors followed behind.

Jedric stayed behind.

Though it was his father’s death, Jedric showed no tears.

Elder Saom lingered momentarily, as if to ask whether Jedric would join them. But when Jedric stood motionless, watching the procession leave, the elder departed without a word of farewell.

As Jedric watched his kin retreat, he spoke in the southern tongue.

“I heard your king is coming this way. The chatter reached my ears.”

“So I’ve heard,” Ram replied.

“Let me guess,” Jedric said, speaking slowly and deliberately.

“King Gallant will come. He’ll declare our land as his domain and appoint a new lord in this place. That new lord will likely be General Terrdin. The general conquered what no one thought could be touched, and he slew Adian, whom no one believed could be killed. It’s inevitable that this vast territory will become his.”

Ram couldn’t respond.

While he thought Jedric’s words made sense, there was no indication among the general or his officers of such an intent.

“What do you think of my guess?” Jedric asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ram replied.

“Of course. I was just speaking to myself,” Jedric said, turning his horse toward Adun.

Ram tried to follow suit, but his horse spun in place before he managed to correct its direction and align beside Jedric.

“You’re clumsy with horses,” Jedric remarked.

“I haven’t ridden much,” Ram admitted.

“Stuga, who are you?” Jedric suddenly asked, changing the subject.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I’m just a soldier,” Ram replied.

“Why were you assigned to guard me? Was it merely because you know our language?”

“That seems to be the main reason.”

“Yesterday, a noble berated you—Badio, wasn’t it?” Jedric pressed.

“Yes.”

“He said you took his rightful place?”

Ram held his breath briefly.

When Count Badio had lashed out, Ram had worried about exactly this.

Inside, the enemy chieftain was listening to everything. It would be wise to watch his words…

But Ram couldn’t refute the accusation.

As a soldier, especially one of low rank, he had no choice but to accept the words of any noble, whether they were his master or not.

“…Yes. That’s what he claimed.”

“If I understood correctly, when I stood before General Terrdin to surrender, it should’ve been Badio, not you, behind him. That’s what he meant?”

Jedric pressed further, even mentioning “Norelin,” a name Ram barely remembered.

“From the day Mantum died, you became the shadow standing behind Terrdin?”

If I had already heard it, lying wouldn’t have been an option.

I could’ve stayed silent, but I wasn’t good at keeping my mouth shut.

For a slave, apologizing was the first thing to do, even if the fault wasn’t theirs.

Speaking up lessened the beatings.

Silence got punished, and lying led to harsher punishment.

So I had developed the habit of telling the truth and responding immediately.

“…Yes, that’s correct,” I said.

Jedric didn’t give me time to think and continued.

“The day Mantum died, there was an intruder in our camp. A man dying from wolf bites.”

“His clothes were shabby, but his tone and words made it clear he was either a commander or a noble of high rank.”

My heart began to race.

Zenri was dead.

Bitten by wolves.

I was sure I’d heard that.

But had I confirmed it?

I hadn’t seen it for myself.

I’d only overheard two soldiers talking about it.

“The wolf bite was on his arm, so it missed any vital spots. He would’ve died if we’d left him, but one of our healers saved him.”

“We asked him why he’d come. We didn’t even need to torture him—he confessed willingly.”

“He said he came to cut off Mantum’s head. Normally, it would’ve been laughable…”

“But then, the heavens began to cry. That strange sound terrified us. Yes, I must admit it. We were scared.”

“Some of the warriors were so frightened that they even wept. When the man saw this, he laughed hysterically.”

“He said it was the sound of Triton’s god killing the god of this land.”

Jedric’s voice, speaking in the southern common tongue with an accent that wasn’t yet perfect, felt like it was strangling me.

“We tried to ask him who killed Mantum. If he didn’t answer, we were ready to cut off his fingers and toes one by one. But that wasn’t necessary.”

“The man offered up his words unasked. He said his slave did it. Then he promised to hand over the slave if we spared his life.”

Jedric stared endlessly at the side of my face as I looked straight ahead.

Even though he didn’t move closer, it felt as if his lips were right next to my ear.

“You killed my father, didn’t you?”

After saying that, Jedric didn’t speak another word.

Not as we returned to our camp.

Not as he entered the tent assigned to him.

Not when he met General Terrdin or passed by Count Badio.

I had no opportunity to tell Terrdin about what had happened.

With news that the King of the Kingdom of Triton would arrive soon, our camp became as frantic as if preparing for battle.