Beneath the Savior’s Feet

Leaving the central square, Liese walked up a steep white brick road. She turned onto a small path on one side of the hill and soon a small orchard spread out over a tiny plain came into view. The scent of fresh apple blossoms tickled her nose in the breeze. Her steps lightened as she saw the blossoms bursting into white buds on each branch.

At the end of the road, flanked by apple trees, stood an old two-story bungalow. The paint was peeling, and the hinges were rusted, but the green roof was still charming – this was the Brennan family’s new home.

“I’m home, Grandpa!”

Liese called happily, pushing open the creaking wooden door. She placed the basket on the kitchen table, still too high for her to reach, and took off her hat.

“Lieslotte, are you here at last?”

An old man’s voice rattled from the end of the corridor, and a balding, white-haired old man appeared, wheeling his chair toward her.

“ thought you’d be here before lunch,” he went on, “but you’re late.”

“The town was so crowded,” Liese replied. “I couldn’t get things done as quickly as I would have liked.”

“What things?”

“I heard that a famous nobleman was returning to Bachmann. He was the commander who played a decisive role in this war.”

“Hmm.” Brennan gave a short sigh. As someone who had seen combat in his youth, he especially admired soldiers who had achieved martial success.

“Looks like a celebration has taken place. Even when a soldier waves a flag and returns home, there will be revelry in all directions because a noble and heroic man has returned.”

“They all looked very happy. Here, this is today’s newspaper.”

Liese handed her grandfather the newspaper she had brought from the square. Brennan slowly put on his glasses and opened the paper.

“I’ve done all the urgent things. I’ve registered my place of residence and enrolled Charlie in the primary school near the square. They said it would be processed in a few days, so Charlie will be able to go to school soon.”

“Well done, Liese. I’m sure you’re hungry, would you like some soup?”

There was a pot of soup in the kitchen that the nanny, Joanna, had made. Although there wasn’t much left over, it was clearly a very tasty soup.

Although she knew of the family’s difficult situation, Mrs Joanna had followed them from afar. Her kindness was much appreciated in a situation where all help was needed.

“Maybe she is still on the second floor, giving Charlie some basic instruction.”

“It’s OK, I’m not hungry. It would be nice if we all ate together when Charlie and the mistress came down for dinner.”

“That is a good idea. … Hmm, Baltazar was indeed a good choice. The young count with his bright blue color is quite impressive.”

Brennan was reading the newspaper and muttered as he pushed up his glasses with his index finger. Liese, who had opened the kitchen window, looked out at the front garden full of apple trees.

“Now we have to start tending the orchard in earnest. We have to harvest the apples before they are fully in bloom. We also need to prune the branches in some places.”

“It’s a shame to see the beautiful flowering trees go.”

“I feel the same way.”

The scent of the white apple blossoms around them helped Liese adapt to the unfamiliar land and settle in more quickly.

But in order to have a healthy harvest, it was necessary to pick beautiful flowers and fruits. This orchard would be the cornerstone of the Brennan family’s revival.

It was a sanctuary given to them by their grandfather’s long-time friend when they were forced to leave the countryside. He had given them his own villa for a song, saying he owed Brennan’s father a great debt.

It was in the Bachmann region of the northwest, a kingdom as prosperous as the capital. There was a central square where people’s footsteps never stopped, and it was said that there were quiet houses on the hills not far away. There was also an orchard in the front yard that they had cultivated as a hobby, which was old but suitable for a new start.

“I’m really glad it turned out as they said it would.”

Having arrived with the stigma and sadness of being a fallen aristocrat, she had a dramatic opportunity to recover. The loss of her home, which held a lifetime of memories, and the confiscation of her possessions did not mean that she had lost everything in the world. She was fortunate to have retained the title so cherished by her grandfather.

Liese looked out over the orchard in the cool sunlight. The blue-green leaves of the apple trees, swaying in the mountain breeze, looked like her own irises.

“What are all those apples for?”

A voice suddenly interrupted her reverie. Viscount Brennan was belatedly rummaging through the basket of apples. Liese let out a short “Ah” in surprise.

“I went to all the popular fruit shops in the market. We might even end up supplying them, so I thought it would be a good idea to taste apples from other orchards first. Of course, they are also good to eat after meals.”

“Heh heh! Liese is as competitive as I am. I thought I’d eaten enough apples to get sick of them, but why not?”

Viscount Brennan spoke playfully.

“But even my clever granddaughter sometimes makes mistakes.”

“What?”

“You picked the wrong apple. This one has bruises, and this one is a little too soft,” the viscount said, examining the apples with a critical eye. There were a few that were reddish and tempting, but their skins were too mushy.

“I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t check them properly,” Liese replied nonchalantly, not wanting to reveal that she had stumbled and spilled the basket in the crowded square with no room to maneuver.

“We’ll just cut off the bruised parts and make some jam. It’ll be fine,” said the viscount. “Besides, jam always tastes good.”

He chuckled as he spotted a stale loaf of bread in the basket. Despite the fact that he was now living in a small and cramped space, unlike his old mansion, he remained cheerful. Liese responded with a warm smile, but then her eyes drifted back out the window.

It was a sunny day, a little warmer than usual. The light breeze and the flowers in bloom scattered spring energy everywhere. It was the perfect weather for a leisurely stroll.

“Let’s go for a walk, Grandfather.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I have discovered a beautiful lake behind the forest near our house. It must be connected to the Mellir River, which crosses the stream. There’s no laughing grass nearby, so it’s a great place for a walk.”

“I’m fine. I need to read the paper while I polish my shoes and eat some apples.”

The viscount quickly declined the offer, reaching for the newspaper again.

“But if you stay indoors all day…”

“Forget that ‘staying indoors is bad for your health’ nonsense. You’ve dragged me out for walks on the weekends, and we’ve enjoyed the spring breeze every weekend. We did it last weekend and the one before that. Are you going to walk every day with this old man?”

Without any chance of persuasion, the voice continued.

“You are going alone today. You should know how to enjoy your time in peace.”

Liese lost her voice and blinked. Her grandfather’s concern for his granddaughter was mixed with a reproachful tone. With both hands raised, she smiled softly.

“Then I’ll be back soon.”

“You can take your time, but make sure you get back before sundown.”

“Okay, Grandfather.”

Liese picked up the straw hat she had left behind. Her neatly braided auburn hair shook as she moved. Her delicate hand touched the handle as she turned to leave.

“Oh, Liese.”

Brennan’s urgent voice stopped Liese as if something had occurred to her.

“I almost forgot. Wait, I have something for you.”

He held out a hand and rolled his wheelchair towards the bedroom. The sound of rummaging for something echoed as he opened a drawer.

Brennan returned to the kitchen with a worn canvas bag on his lap.

“Take this.”

“What is it?”

Liese tilted her head as she took the rough bag.
The texture that came through the fabric was cold and quite firm. Before she could take it out to see what it was, she realized what it was.

“No way…”

“Do you want to take it out and see?”

“It’s a gun.”

It was a silver pistol made of dark coloured wood. The scratches and rust marks showed its age.

“This is a treasure I’ve had since I was young. When my rifle broke down on the battlefield, this little guy protected me.”

Liese knew the story of Brennan’s wartime experiences from decades ago. Her grandfather had a habit of telling these stories endlessly when he had been drinking.

He said that the friend who sold him the orchard and house at below market value owed his life to him on the battlefield. He had a young and honorable history as a soldier.

“It may not look great, but it works well. Just be careful when you carry it,”

The viscount said.

“Don’t worry, Grandfather.”

“Perhaps I’m worrying too much. Even though we’ve settled on a quiet hill, this is still Bachmann. Isn’t it the same as where we used to live?”

Brennan’s eyes clouded as he looked at the empty air beyond the window.

“The worst crime that could happen in the countryside was stealing chickens or ducks, at most. How much more heinous crimes could happen in an area the size of the capital? I don’t even want to think about it.”