Horizon of War Series

Chapter 5

The growing darkness and looming snowbanks on either side of the road didn’t hinder Stefi from finding her home. Lansius followed Stefi as she headed down a row of similarly sized buildings. She slowed down and stopped where the road ended. Lansius saw an empty two-story wooden house. As they stepped up to the door, they saw that the lock had been smashed open.

Lansius nervously turned to Stefi, waiting for her response. Stefi drew her sword, gave a confident nod to Lansius, and cautiously pushed the door inward.

The creaking of the frozen hinges heralded their entry, but no challenge came from inside. Stefi went in, and Lansius followed, drawing his knife.

The house wasn’t large and was only modestly furnished, so they could easily see that nobody was inside. They checked the kitchen and the wet area but found nothing. Stefi dropped her bag and motioned upstairs. She ran up the flight of stairs and disappeared from view.

Lansius heard a door being flung open and then another. But then, there was only silence. Slowly, the knife in his hand felt insignificant. He stopped hesitating and went for the stairs, but the sounds of footsteps stopped him.

Stefi appeared from upstairs with an unlit candle. “All clear,” she said with a faint smile.

“Anything lost?” he asked while sheathing his knife. It took two tries, as his hand was unusually tense.

“I’ll worry about it later when I have time,” she responded.

There were clear signs of looting or burglary inside, but there was nothing they could do about it. As darkness fell, Stefi placed a candle on the wooden table and began unwrapping a small pouch that contained a flint, a metal object, and small pieces of wood from the previous night’s fire. She grabbed the flint and struck it against the iron, directing the sparks onto the pieces of wood. After several attempts, an ember glowed red, and she carefully used it to light the candle.

Lansius found a wooden plank lying on the floor, lifted it, and placed it into the corresponding iron bracket to secure the door.

“Come, let’s head upstairs,” she called, holding the lit candle in her hand.

The narrow wooden stairs creaked almost with every step. Upstairs, they were greeted by two doors.

“That’s my late master’s room,” Stefi said, nodding to one of the doors. “You’d better not enter.”

“I see. So where do you sleep?”

“My bed is beside hers,” Stefi said vaguely as she led him toward the other door.

Lansius followed her inside to see a tidy study. “Umm, so where will I sleep?”

“Here.” She lightly stomped on the wooden floor.

“At least it won’t be cold,” he responded, fully expecting to sleep on the floor.

“No, I haven’t pulled out the bed,” she clarified.

“Oh . . .” he remarked shyly.

That made her giggle. “Lans, you’re my charge. I won’t let you suffer.”

The room was dusty and damp, so they did what they could with a broom and cleaning rags. Stefi found a dry rushlight on the cabinet and lit it up. Afterward, she went inside her room and dragged a bed out.

“You sure you can do it alone?” Lansius asked in between the screeching noises.

But with only a few tries, she managed to get the oaken bed frame out.

Out of curiosity, Lansius tried to move it.

Oof, this is heavy . . .

The bed refused to budge.

She chuckled. “Better do it together.”

The two moved the bed into the study without an issue. Afterward, they returned downstairs only to realize that all the firewood was gone.

Lansius wanted to give it another look, but Stefi said, “Wait here.” She lifted the wood plank on the door and headed outside. He followed and spotted her just as she entered an empty-looking neighbor’s house.

Did she just barge into her neighbor’s house?

He glanced around nervously, feeling like an amateurish thief’s accomplice. Fortunately, Stefi returned quickly with two sizeable objects in each hand. She handed one to Lansius as she walked by, and the two hurriedly returned to their place.

“What are we going to do with these chairs?” Lansius asked her as they barred the door once more.

“They belonged to the jerk. He used to piss from his window at night, right onto my fence,” she explained, lifting the chair and heading into the kitchen.

“What?” Lansius couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“After my master passed away,” she began, “this neighbor kept bothering me . . . One time, he even waggled his privates when I walked home.”

Lansius was taken aback. “You let that go unpunished?”

She sighed. “I can’t do anything. If I cause an incident, I might lose the house.”

“How come?”

“It’s a long story, Lans,” she said, clearly not intending to elaborate.

After a brief pause, Lansius asked, “So, do you have a mallet?”

His question made her smile. Stefi didn’t have a mallet, but she did have a small, rusty axe. Despite its bluntness, they quickly turned the chairs into firewood. Now, the wood burned brightly.

Stefi put the clean snow she had gathered into the cauldron and let it boil. Meanwhile, Lansius removed his coat and watched as Stefi arranged what they had left on the table.

“Lans, there’s only gruel until I can get something from the market tomorrow.”

“Let me pay for the food.”

“Better save your coins. You might need better clothes,” she said, pouring the grains into the cauldron.

“Ah . . . you think so?” He realized that all his clothes were shabby.

“You need to look the part, like the captain’s scribe earlier. Let’s visit some second-hand shops tomorrow.”

The image of a long blue tunic came to Lansius’s mind. “But don’t I need to report in the morning?”

“Ah, it’s fine. You can show up later. It’s not like the captain would send a runner to inform them about you.”

Lansius nodded. He knew he wasn’t important enough to warrant that kind of treatment. Without things to worry about, he started to unwind. The comfort of the home felt luxurious after a prolonged stay in barns and tents.

He looked around and couldn’t help but compare this place to his home in Bellandia. Almost every feature in this house looked better. Even in a lower-class area, the house had a sturdy construction and a separate living space. This way, the soot and stench from the kitchen area stayed below.

The cauldron made noises as it boiled. Stefi diligently stirred and added her last chunk of cheese, followed by a portion of salted meat from a waxed linen wrap. “It’s almost ready.”

Lansius picked up a bowl from his bag while Stefi grabbed one from the cupboard. The meal was a humble one, but the mood was uplifting and they still had their wineskin full of spiced ale. They had been sleeping rough for months, so the prospect of spending the night on proper beds was overwhelming.

As they ate, a curiosity dawned on Lansius. “Stefi, is it all right in the city for unmarried men and women to spend the night in a house together?”

“Of course not. If they’re caught, they’ll be forced to marry . . .” Her voice trailed off as she slowly realized what it was all about. “Oh, shit. We’ve been together for so long that I forgot about that.”

Lansius exhaled deeply. Although they were technically still on a campaign, they were now stationed inside a city, which meant they could get in trouble with the parish laws. He had only recently learned about the restrictive and unreasonable rules that governed medieval society, such as the sumptuary laws that dictated what clothing, colors, fur, and jewelry were permissible based on a person’s social status.

Worse still were the laws imposed on unmarried couples. If a man and woman were found alone together without a chaperone, the parish would levy a fine. If they were caught touching, the fine would be even heftier. If they spent a significant amount of time together, it could be deemed as adultery, a criminal act with its own punishment. In addition, the fines had to be paid when the woman got married, which served as a form of public shaming.

I knew it. Something felt off with just the two of us.

“J-just keep this a secret,” she whispered. “Nobody needs to know, and no one will be the wiser.”

He nodded. It wasn’t like he could find another place to stay with the sun already setting. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay tomorrow. It’s getting late. We should get some rest.”

Stefi took a deep breath and sipped her drink. “I’ll help you out. There must be something I can sell around this house.”

“Sell?” Lansius furrowed his brow. “No, I think I have enough to pay for rent.”

“But you also need a new tunic for work,” she reminded him.

Lansius smiled, appreciating her good intentions. “We’ll figure something out tomorrow. Oh, go ahead and clean your room. I’ll make sure the fire goes out.”

“Right, I still need to do that. Good night then, Lans.” She took her cup and went upstairs.

Lansius, left alone with his thoughts, couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if they were caught and forced to marry. Although he couldn’t remember his exact age, he felt that he was older than twenty. Meanwhile, based on her story, Stefi was nearing twenty as well. Both were considered old enough to marry.

But would that work out? Hah, probably not . . .

The smoldering of the fireplace interrupted his daydream. He approached the fireplace and knelt to light another candle from an ember. Afterward, he went upstairs to the study. Once inside, he realized he had the entire room to himself.

The newfound privacy relieved him like no other, but fatigue from days of walking and camping crept in quickly. He forced himself to arrange his bag and coat. Afterward, he blew out the wax candle, slipped into the bed, and pulled the blanket up.

Today had been full of new experiences for him. He had finally reached Riverstead and now looked forward to a new job. The feeling that he might just pull this off and help his family financially put his mind at ease.

The only thing nagging him was that he must find another place to stay the next day, and that might ruin him financially. The temptation to seek shelter in one of the vacant homes loomed large, but the risk of accusations of looting or theft was too great to ignore.

Oh, I’ll worry about that tomorrow!

Leaving aside his worries, Lansius finally found peace and drifted into sleep.

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