Chereads / Desecration of a saint / Chapter 9 - The best kind of teacher

Chapter 9 - The best kind of teacher

Lord Thorne brought his hands down to his knees, pausing for a moment in thought before speaking.

"Well, it seems like we finally have everything ready to move. You four will be in charge of protecting us as we pass through the Dire Forest. I wouldn't fail if I were you—your contracts would not even matter if you fall there."

The sickly pale woman I had already seen remained unfazed by the news, her expression unchanging as though she had expected it. The other three, however, shifted their postures subtly, their discomfort evident in the tightening of their stances. Despite their apparent unease, none of them raised their voices in protest. Instead, they each moved toward the door in silence.

A minute later, I heard the faint creak of wood above us as two pairs of footsteps settled on the roof of the cart. Where the other two had gone, I wasn't sure. Outside, more voices reached my ears, muffled but distinct. The guards, I realized. It seemed they, too, would be accompanying us on this journey.

Not long after, I felt the cart jerk forward. Whatever pulled it was a mystery, as the small window set into the side of the cart was far too high for me to see through—not that I would have been allowed to look even if I could. The bumps of the cobblestone road beneath us jostled me lightly, a constant reminder of the movement.

I thought about what it would mean to leave the city. Truthfully, I had never even learned its name. Slaves were deliberately kept ignorant of geography to discourage thoughts of escape. My old master had gone to great lengths to ensure we knew as little as possible about the world beyond his estate. Still, I couldn't help but feel grateful for his son's laziness. Without him forcing me to read and perform tasks in his stead, I would be utterly ignorant of many things. Thinking back on it now, I could see how those small moments of stolen knowledge had planted the seeds of curiosity in my mind.

It was a boring ride. Lord Thorne didn't seem inclined to talk much, so all I could do was feel the vibrations through the floor of the cart and try to guess what kind of area we were in. At first, it was rough, making it easy to guess that we were still on the cobblestone roads of the city. Then the bumping became softer, more muted, and I assumed we had transitioned onto dirt roads. Given how long we traveled on that smoother path, I could only imagine we had left the city behind hours ago.

I was lost in thought when a sudden feeling of unease crept over me. Turning my head, I noticed Lord Thorne watching me. His eyes were distant, as though lost in his own thoughts. He studied me in a way that made my skin prickle, as if he were trying to puzzle something out.

Lord Thorne's POV

Looking at the boy, I felt a twinge of pity—not something I was accustomed to. From what I'd been told about the surgery, it was likely the most expensive and risky procedure ever attempted in our time. To think that the organs, skin, bones, and even parts of the brain of an angel had been implanted into a boy no older than ten winters... It bordered on madness.

And yet, worse still, the king had been fully on board with the experiment. I would have thought that having a daughter around the same age as the boy would make His Majesty more cautious, more mindful of the risks... or perhaps even more human. But clearly, there was something I didn't understand—something His Majesty had already considered and prepared for.

Looking out the window, I could see that the little town surrounding the medical center had long since vanished from view. Now, the open prairies that bordered my territory and Dutchmund's stretched endlessly before us. The low-lying grass rippled gently in the breeze, offering a stark contrast to the oppressive weight of my thoughts.

I glanced down at the boy again, his small frame shifting slightly with the cart's movements. The king's words replayed in my mind, catching me off guard even now. But I had spent enough time navigating the noble world to mask my surprise. Still, I couldn't shake the nagging realization: this boy, as he stood now, would likely die in the pits—not for lack of physical strength, as I had seen children younger than him fighting there—but because he had been born into a different kind of environment.

My gaze drifted back to the grass outside as an idea began to take shape. Perhaps there was a way to prepare him better for what lay ahead. Something unconventional, perhaps even unorthodox. If he was to survive and fulfill the king's expectations, I would need to rethink my approach.

I told the boy I had the best teacher for him, but truthfully, I think I have found someone better.

"Stop the cart!"

I bellowed, my voice filling the cabin with such force that I saw the boy flinch. Even I felt the faint vibration of my own command.

There was a knock on the door, and the guard in iron armor stepped inside, immediately dropping to one knee.

"My lord, what orders do you have for us?"

I leaned forward, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I want you to bring me some goblins alive. If possible, bring any gear they might have on them as well. If you can't find goblins, then something of similar strength will do. Send the lower-ranked guards—they shouldn't have any trouble with such a task."

The guard hesitated only briefly before nodding sharply. "As you command, my lord." He rose and stepped back out, shouting orders to the others as the cart came to a full halt.

I leaned back in my seat, pleased with myself. This should prove entertaining.