Outbreak Company: Volume 5

by Ichiro Sakaki

  “We’ll have Elvia guide us,” Minori-sama said.

  “Elvia? Ah, the werewolf spy that Shinichi said he would keep close in order to keep an eye on her. I believe she was in the imperial soccer exhibition, was she not?”

  “Yes, sir. Considering that, as you say, she was originally a spy who infiltrated the Eldant Empire, I have to imagine she can offer us at least some useful information.”

  “That is true; however...” The minster made a thoughtful noise and then went quiet. Maybe he hadn’t expected what Minori-sama said—maybe no one had, because Her Majesty and Prime Minister Zahar were looking at us with troubled expressions, and the other ministers and nobles were all turning to each other and whispering.

  As for me, I simply kept my head bowed and waited for Her Majesty’s judgment.

  But I wasn’t to get off that easy.

  “Myusel,” Her Majesty said.

  “Y-Yes, ma’am!”

  “What are your thoughts on this matter?”

  “M-My thoughts, Your Majesty...?”

  The question threw me into a panic. Our plan had been for Minori-sama to do all the talking. It had never even occurred to me that I might be asked to speak in front of such an august company.

  I couldn’t hold back a panicked cry as I glanced up—and found myself looking straight into Her Majesty’s eyes.

  “Um... Er...”

  I shot a helpless look at Minori-sama, but she didn’t say anything, only nodded broadly at me. I thought she was saying, You’ll be fine. Just speak from the heart.

  “I just... simply... want to help Shinichi-sama. That’s all. That’s... I’m sorry. I’m too much of a fool to consider anything more complicated than that... I only...”

  “Hmm.” And Her Majesty nodded.

  “But, Myusel Fourant,” Minister Cordobal said, “you have been in our military, have you not? If you should infiltrate Bahairam, and happen to be captured, do you understand that you are likely to be seen as an Eldant spy?”

  That set me back on my heels. Unconsciously, I touched the magic ring on my finger.

  Yes, I had spent some time in the armed forces. As a half-elf, effectively an orphan with no one to support me, military service was the only possible way to gain Eldant citizenship... to gain anything resembling a decent life.

  But...

  “That magic ring has your personal information and service record engraved in it. Given that fact, your current ring shall be forfeit. Can you accept that?”

  Did that mean I was going to lose my status as a citizen?

  I hesitated... but only for a moment.

  “I understand.”

  I was ashamed of myself for my reluctance. I was weighing my citizenship against Shinichi-sama’s life, but how could the two even be compared?

  Then Minori-sama spoke up from beside me. “But Minister Cordobal, being unable to communicate telepathically with Myusel will impair my ability to work with her. I humbly request the temporary provision of a new magic ring.”

  “Naturally, that was my intention. Lack of a magic ring would make things harder after you entered Bahairam, as well. The accent there is impossibly thick.”

  .............What?

  What was Minister Cordobal saying?

  “We see that you are far too determined for us to stop you,” Her Majesty said, “short of putting you in chains. Myusel, your devotion is more than evident to us. We must grant you a parting gift as well.”

  “What...? Um...”

  The whole reason we had come to the audience chamber in the first place was to let them know that we intended no trouble for the Holy Eldant Empire by our actions, and if possible to request provisions, tools, and perhaps some way across the border with Bahairam.

  But what could this “parting gift” be?

  “Your Majesty?” the Prime Minister asked dubiously. The other worthies were also chattering amongst themselves. Minister Cordobal, however, let out a small sigh, as if he had a hunch what Her Majesty intended to give us. He rubbed his beautiful eyes with one hand.

  “Fine, very well.” The minister turned back to us once more. “When do you mean to depart?”

  “As soon as we can be ready. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Indeed,” Her Majesty nodded.

  From the assembled advisors and nobles there came no objection. Her Majesty’s clear approval, accompanied by the lack of rebuttal from either Minister Cordobal or Prime Minister Zahar, left the others in the room hard-pressed to express a dissenting opinion.

  “Minori. Myusel.” Her Majesty spoke our names again.

  More than that, in fact: she rose from her throne.

  “Bring him back to us. Please.”

  Her voice was powerful and clear—and yet, there was an undercurrent of desperation, even pain. Perhaps Her Majesty wanted as much as I did—maybe more—to go help Shinichi-sama herself. But she had her position as Empress to think of. Unlike me, she had real responsibilities. It was unimaginable that she might abandon those duties to follow her own heart.

  That was why she sent her heart with me.

  Minori-sama and I both gave one emphatic nod.

  “We will!”

  On and on went the identical houses at identical intervals.

  The same shape. The same color. In Japan it was possible to see public housing developments where everything had been built to the same blueprint, but this was... it was on a different scale. From one end of the street to the other, everything was the same. And I had the impression it was this way on all the other streets, too.

  What was more, the scenery passing by the window of the dino-drawn carriage seemed impossibly dry. Partly that was due to the lack of greenery anywhere in the city, but I got the sense that the actual humidity was very low.

  I’d also experienced the severe temperature differences between day and night. So it wasn’t just the clothes—the climate, too, was a lot like Earth’s Middle East.

  I stared out the window. I didn’t see any people in town.

  Actually, that wasn’t quite true. Once in a great while I would spot someone, but the number of people I saw seemed so small compared to how big the town was.

  It was quiet. Too quiet, as they say. It felt lifeless, with none of the spontaneous chaos that usually characterizes an inhabited area. I felt like I was looking at a ghost town.

  “Are these houses... all empty?” I asked.

  “Hm?” Amatena gave me a questioning look. “What do you mean by that?”

  “It’s just... I don’t see anyone on the street.”

  “That’s because it’s time for work,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Most people are out in the fields.”

  “Fields, huh?”

  “Some work in factories or have special assignments, but the majority of our nation’s people are engaged in agriculture.”

  “So most of you are farmers?”

  “Farmers, soldiers, family.”

  I let a questioning silence hang. I didn’t follow.

  Soldiers I could understand. Some countries have militia systems, where in times of emergency everyone was expected to pick up a weapon and be part of the army. Most of the time they were farmers, but they were also soldiers in reserve.

  “Family,” though...

  “You said you wished to see how our people live, didn’t you?” Amatena said. “Then wait a bit longer. I believe what you see will satisfy you.”

  With that, she fell silent again.

  At length, she announced, “All right. We’re here.”

  The dino-drawn carriage came to a stop. Wherever we’d been going, apparently we’d arrived.

  I looked around, poking my head out the window of the carriage. I saw a large building ahead of us. Not as big as the “temple” from whose balcony the father-ruler had been waving, but several times the size of any of the houses along the street. The high ceiling gave the impression of some sort of storehouse; in any event, a quick glance at the outs
ide made it clear that this was no ordinary house. Despite its size, it seemed to be just a single story.

  “Let’s go,” Amatena said, disembarking.

  We entered the foyer, then proceeded into the building proper.

  “Huh...”

  As I’d expected, the inside was a vast, open space. It was supported by a series of pillars, but there were no walls dividing the interior area. I assumed this was the main living space in this building, possibly supplemented by some smaller attached rooms. It almost looked like the worship hall of a church.

  The building’s bland exterior belied the colorful inside, which was adorned with what seemed to be traditionally made decorations. It was different from anything else I had seen to that point. Could it be that the other seemingly plain houses were like this inside, too?

  “What’s going on?”

  Gathered in the large space were several dozen men and women. Humans made up more than half the group, but there were a lot of beast people, too. I didn’t see anyone resembling an elf, a dwarf, or a lizardman, though.

  Everyone was dressed in traditional outfits—the beast people, in particular, seemed to show a lot of skin.

  Now I get it.

  I had always thought Elvia seemed pretty exposed, but I could see now that it was just part of Bahairam’s culture.

  Desert people in our world often covered their entire bodies to avoid sunburn and help regulate temperature, but as Elvia’s “phase” made abundantly clear, her fur could get very thick, and when she shed it again, the skin could be very sensitive. So it was actually better for her to trap less heat by wearing fewer clothes.

  This was a culture that had naturally been forged by the daily life and work of its people.

  “And that’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” I remarked.

  Maybe the overwhelmingly bland townscape I had been seeing all this time made the feeling more intense than it should have been, but the people in front of me seemed, in my mind, to embody at once both the culture of Bahairam and the nature of its people.

  “I see,” Amatena said slowly. Just for a second, something dark passed through her expression.

  Huh? Was that the wrong thing to say?

  Amatena must have noticed me looking at her, because she shook her head. “Hrm? Ahem. It’s nothing.”

  That was another way of saying she wasn’t going to answer any questions about it. Instead, I decided to ask about our location.

  Amatena and I stood up against one wall, watching. “What kind of gathering is this?” I was pretty sure it wasn’t a cosplay convention...

  “It’s a wedding.”

  “Oh, of course, a—”

  A wedding?

  I guessed that explained all the people dressed in traditional costumes. However—maybe the ceremony had just started, but there was one crucial element of a wedding that I didn’t seem to see.

  “Where are the bride and groom?”

  “They’re right there.”

  “Right... where?”

  Amatena pointed to the men and women in the center of the room. But the gesture seemed to encompass at least a dozen of each.

  “Sorry... Who’s getting married, there?”

  “All of them. You can count at least thirty couples.”

  “Thirty?”

  Thirty brides and grooms?

  “So, wait. Is this one of those, you know... mass weddings?”

  “Correct.” Amatena nodded calmly.

  As for me, I didn’t know what to say. Intellectually, I knew every country had its own culture and customs, shaped by its own history and conditions, so it was hardly the place of a foreigner—let alone someone from another world—to be judgmental or critical. But marriage was one of the most important events in a person’s life. Did everyone really not mind being wed all at once?

  “Er, is it really okay for us to just drop in on a wedding ceremony like this?” Especially with an absolute stranger like me.

  “It’s fine,” Amatena said curtly. “It’s only natural that family be present at a wedding. And although your disgusting self is not family, you’re with me, so you may join us.”

  “Hold on... Family?”

  Did Amatena have some blood relation in that group? I did spot a few werewolf men and women in there...

  But then again, we had come here because I’d asked Amatena to show me something of the city and its people. Didn’t that mean that she wouldn’t have gone to this wedding if I hadn’t asked to go out?

  And that suggested...

  “No way...”

  Father-ruler, the title they gave their king, danced through my head.

  As if to lend credence to what I was thinking, three figures appeared on a balcony that ran along one wall of the open area. One of them I recognized.

  “Is that...”

  “Mm. The father-ruler,” Amatena said.

  It was him: the same King of Bahairam I’d seen the day before. Two muscly guys, each wearing the same sort of uniform as Amatena, flanked him; maybe they were bodyguards or something.

  “But what is the king of the country doing a wedding ceremony?”

  “Our father-ruler himself says the words of blessing at family weddings in our nation. One makes an eternal vow to the father-ruler, along with a vow of loyalty to him. That is the ceremony.”

  “You don’t vow to... to God, or something?”

  “Did I not say we vow to the father-ruler?”

  I didn’t speak for a moment. Was this... you know? One of those things where His Majesty the Emperor was also a living god?

  “So the reason everyone’s getting married at the same time...”

  “They were waiting for the father-ruler to come to us,” Amatena said.

  So the king made these periodic tours of his kingdom, and whenever he showed up, they would have mass weddings or whatever. I had somehow always pictured a king as someone who stayed shut up in his castle, but it sounded like the King of Bahairam really got around.

  Think about it. Based on their dress and culture, I might guess that Bahairam was made up of people who were originally nomads. That meant it was likely that this sort of settled lifestyle was a relatively new thing for them.

  As I was ruminating about all this, one of the people standing beside the king opened a piece of sheepskin paper and called out a word I couldn’t decipher. I gathered it was somebody’s name. Given that this was a wedding ceremony, that implied it was one of the new brides and/or grooms. But... wait a second. So did that mean the guy wasn’t a bodyguard, but more of a priest?

  Whatever the case, from the crowd of couples emerged a man and woman; they came forward and knelt.

  “In the name of our most honored father, I administer to you the eternal vow,” the man beside the king said. “Be ever loyal as members of our family.”

  “It is our profound honor,” the man and woman replied. They both looked deadly serious—and, if I may say so, not very happy.

  And then...

  “Next!” the man beside the king called out. The first bride and groom quickly moved to the side, and another couple walked forward. They were given the same brief, and oddly condescending, address, and they too answered, “It is our profound honor,” before moving aside.

  By the third couple, I was starting to get a little tired of it. What was this, an assembly line?

  I mean, granted, if His Majesty the King really attended every wedding ceremony in the country, then he didn’t exactly have the luxury of time. It was more like... yes, he was dealing with strangers, but was this really enough?

  Then Amatena added another twist of the knife. “In our country, when a man or woman reaches the appropriate age, he or she marries a partner chosen for him or her.”

  “Huh? Chosen? Like, an arranged marriage? Who does the choosing?”

  “The father-ruler,” she replied quietly.

  Okay, wait. Hang on.

  The king chooses everyone’s marriage partners? Even by this countr
y’s standards, that sounded insane.

  It seemed like it would have to be hard enough attending every single wedding ceremony in the country. For him to also personally pick everyone’s partners had to be impossible. Presumably, in practice, it was someone close to him, or maybe an official in each region, who made the selections.

  But even that would mean...

  “So you don’t get to marry the person you love—just the person the king chooses for you?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “That’s nuts is what that is.”

  “It is natural for one to obey one’s honored father,” Amatena said bluntly.

  “...Right...”

  I didn’t know what else to say. All I knew was that it made me feel sick. It wasn’t right. People’s free will was being totally ignored.

  But then... I couldn’t deny that this, too, could be considered a cultural difference. Manga and anime and games and light novels were overflowing with stories based on strategic marriages—matches made by the parents of the partners. As I recalled, during Japan’s era of civil wars, something like ninety percent of the marriages warriors made were political, with the partner acting almost as a hostage. Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s love marriage to Nene was the exception, or so I’d heard.

  Of course, in most of these works, the main characters object to the arranged marriage, and it becomes a whole drama. But the fact that it can be used for that kind of conflict is another way of suggesting how common it was in the past. So maybe it was me and my objections that were really crazy.

  I figured the best thing to do at this point was to change the subject.

  “Um... You mentioned family. Who here are you related to?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Come again?” I said dumbly. “Everyone?”

  I looked around the room once more. There were dozens of men and women there, and many of them weren’t werewolves. I was sure not every single person present was there to get married, but it was still just too many people for every last one of them to be part of Amatena’s family.

  So I guess that must mean...

  Given the way they referred to their king as the “father-ruler,” it implied that all subjects of the kingdom were children of their god and father, His Majesty.