His Father’s Son

[12.03.1623]

Faywyn.

MALINA stood outside the door to the earl’s room dreading what was to come. She raised her hand to knock only to withdraw the next moment. She was stalling the inevitable, that she knew, but there was a difference between knowing something and having the will to act on that knowledge.

…There is no avoiding this, she thought to herself with a tired sigh. Might as well get this done quickly. Mother did say he shouldn’t take too long. And so, with a heavy heart, she rapped on the oaken barrier to the beast’s domain.

“Enter,” said the accursed man within, his voice deceptively welcoming; Malina knew better though. Steeling herself, she opened the door and walked in.

“You summoned me… My Lord,” she ground out, stopping a cautious distance behind the foul creature. The earl gave an assenting hum without facing her, his gaze locked on the tome open before him. Then he spoke no more.

For about a minute, Malina stood there in awkward silence. Frustrated by the stalemate she cleared her throat to draw the earl’s attention. “...My Lord?” she called.

“Yes?” the bastard replied, his voice languid, without turning to face her. Again, the room descended into another prolonged silence. Annoyance began to bubble unto Malina's countenance. Having spent the previous week steeling herself for the humiliation she would have to endure at the earl’s hands she did not expect to be summoned to just stand there waiting. This was supposed to be a brief affair, she thought to herself. Why the earl was purposefully dragging this matter out was beyond her.

Irritated and unwilling to play whatever deranged game the earl had come up with, Malina marched up towards him stopping just behind him as she began to unburden herself of her garments. “Ahem. My Lord?” she said, clearing her throat again.

“Yes, Malina?” the earl sighed, seemingly exasperated. He placed a bookmark between the pages he was on before turning to face her. Upon seeing her standing behind him, stripped bare of her clothing, the earl’s brow contorted in a questioning gesture that the former lady could make little of.

The two stared at each other in silence for a few moments before the earl shook his head as he turned back to his tome. “This is the second time you have shown me your nakedness unsolicited, Malina,” he said as he resumed reading. “Forgive me if I am mistaken, but you seem rather eager to climb into my bed. Even if you were enamoured by my flawless features, I thought virgin maidens were supposed to be more… restrained. Well, what do I know.”

The room lulled into another prolonged silence. Mortified, Malina could only awkwardly gather her clothes and put them back on. The earl remained seemingly unbothered by her presence as he continued to peruse his book. Minutes passed and the stalemate persisted, Malina’s frustration and confusion mounting with each passing second. She dared not act out again; she had suffered more than enough humiliation already doing that.

Eventually, the earl finished with the tome and turned to face her. The former lady’s heart jumped to her throat as his intent gaze scrutinised her. This is it, she thought, crestfallen. To think I would ever succumb to whoring myself out like a common wench just so my family might survive.

The earl rose to his feet, approaching her. His right hand rose, reaching for her and she squeezed shut her eyes, expecting to feel his hideous paws on her person. But the dreaded fondling never came. She peeked past a shut eyelid to see the earl staring at her with a strange expression, his left brow raised in that annoying manner he was so inclined to. His outstretched hand hovered above her left shoulder, reaching behind her. Having to look up to meet his gaze Malina was reminded how much taller the lithe earl was than her. Levi’s outstretched hand came away clutching a bundle of parchment he picked from the bookshelf behind her.

Malina watched in befuddlement as he walked away with the bundle. “Take a seat,” the earl said, gesturing towards his vacant chair. Still confused, Malina complied, watching as he placed the pile of paper, an inkwell and a quill before her.

“Last we spoke,” the earl began, “your father mentioned you were well-learned. I will be putting that claim to the test today.’

“...What?”

“You have an hour to answer all the questions on that script,” the earl replied, retrieving a delicate hourglass from his coat pocket before setting it in front of her. “Your time starts now. Should you fail this test you would be sent to join the scullery maids in the kitchens below. I would accept no dullards in my employ.”

Still somewhat confused, yet terrified of what she understood of the earl’s words, Malina turned her attention towards the scripts the earl set before her. She skimmed through the sheets, finding the questions they contained varying in difficulty from insultingly simple to downright incomprehensible. She looked back at the earl to gauge his intentions behind this new scheme of his and found him looking over her shoulders expectantly.

“Well? Get on with it,” he said, gesturing towards the script.

Confused and uncertain, Malina complied, somehow managing to quickly fall into a rhythm as she answered what questions she could. The ones she couldn’t she skipped to return to later. Time passed and soon the earl tapped on her right shoulder.

“Time’s up,” he said, collecting the script.

“But, I wasn’t done…” Malina replied, trailing away as her gaze met the earl’s bland one. With a sigh, she relinquished the seat to the earl and returned to her post behind him.

Once again the room receded into silence with only the noise of rustling papers to be heard as the earl graded her work. Malina stood quietly behind him, her heart awash with an odd mix of emotions. Relief, dread, confusion and irritation. The earl is a rather confusing and irritating creature, she decided.

A knock on the door interrupted Malina’s annoyed musing. “Enter,” the earl said without looking up. A maid entered. “Miss Sarah instructed I inform you that some men request your presence, My Lord,” she said, glancing curiously at Malina in her rumpled clothing and dishevelled hair. Malina blushed, again mortified, as the memory of the incident prior arose in her mind.

“Oh? Who are they?” the earl asked, finally turning to face the servant.

“Bounty hunters, My Lord.”

Levi paused, his gaze turning contemplative. “...Tell her I will be downstairs in five minutes,” he said at last before turning to face Malina. “Malina, you are dismissed. I will call for you when next I desire your presence.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Malina replied, quickly vacating the earl’s room. She was still uncertain what just transpired in there; hopefully, her mother would know what to make of the eccentric lord’s antics as she had no clue.

***

Olga had always been intrigued by the towns these lowlanders built. Fundamentally, their commune was always very much different from his clan’s stronghold. The way they built their little werfs, the size of their roads, the absence of cobblestones on the majority of said roads, and of course, the ginormous forts the lowlanders love so much. Olga’s home varied in these and many more, the fort most especially. They didn’t have those; they didn’t need them. The Aiga in all her splendid glory was the all protection Olga’s people would ever need.

The hunter-warrior cleared his throat, spitting a wad of viscous sputum to the side before turning to face the town guards approaching him and his fellow clansmen. Peasants stared warily at them, their fear and animosity so palpable it seemed to roil over Olga’s skin. It was a pleasant thing.

“Halt!” one guard shouted as he and his colleagues pointed their spears at Olga who led his clansmen through the town’s gates; his brothers chuckled at the display. The hunter-warrior’s gaze flickered over the men and their rather well-made equipment in disdain. Soft, he thought to himself, smiling as he placed his hand on his sabre’s pommel, relishing the way the guards flinched fearfully at his movements.

“We of the Ironhides are here to claim the bounty your lord sent my people,” Olga said, mercifully raising his hand from his blade. He ripped the two heads tied with cordage from his waist, tossing it at the lead guard’s feet. “That should be two hundred silver,” he added before gesturing to the two live prey crippled and bundled on carrying poles behind him. “I hear them two are worth ‘bout two gold. Pay up!”

The guards fell silent, frightful comprehension bubbling in their gazes. “...Go inform Ser Mannon!” the lead guard shouted to one of the younger-looking guards. Olga smiled a toothy smile as the boy scampered away.

…

The lord of Faywyn was a strange man. Much unlike his father before him, the boy lacked the bearings of a true warrior. But Olga could see something in his calm, eerie gaze. This boy is not normal, he decided, resting his hand on his sabre’s pommel. He subconsciously caressed the handle, gleaning some measure of comfort in the weapon’s presence. The boy’s gaze flickered towards Olga’s wandering hand, a small smile forming on his lips.

Odd.

“I am impressed,” the earl said, finally breaking the stalemate as he turned his gaze towards the bandits bound on the floor in the centre of the hall. “I honestly expected to have to wait a bit longer, but you and your clansmen are apparently much more competent than you are rumoured to be.”

“We are Ironhide warriors,” Olga said frowning, “to expect less would be a foolish insult to our honour. Your father before you must have at least educated you on that much before relinquishing his seat to you.”

The earl laughed, his gaze mirthful, clearly not taking offence as Olga expected him to.

“Alas,” the earl said, stifling his rampant laughter, “My father has been missing for about a month now and I never really had any interest in learning his ways. So, no, I wasn’t educated on this matter before now. Maybe, someday you could enlighten me more on this matter over a few barrels of fine wine. I would have loved to host you longer but these gifts you’ve brought me has my blood boiling with excitement. Robert!”

“Yes, My Lord,” one withering geezer replied from his place by the lord’s left hand.

“Give the good men their coin. Don’t forget to add an extra gold royal to their payment so they may drink, feast, and be merry before returning to their homes. I cannot let such outstanding men go unrewarded after they had so quickly heeded my call for aid.”

Olga received the payment from the geezer, surprised. He opened the coin pouch and indeed there was an additional gold coin aside from the two already there. The warrior's gaze whipped back to the earl but the boy’s attention was already far gone, now fully fixated on his prize.

“The criers should spread the word,” the earl said, crouched before one of the captured marauders. Casually, he lifted his hand to caress the fellow’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “A trial by ordeal shall be held in the town’s square in an hour. Let all who have eyes come and see what great misfortunes shall befall those who destroy what this lord has claimed as his.”

“...Yes, My Lord,” the geezer said, bowing before turning to leave. The earl remained crouched, his knights standing watch over him.

…

“My dearest subjects,” Olga heard the lord say from his post on the podium that was hastily assembled in front of the gathering crowd. “It is with a heavy heart that I stand before you today. Not once. But twice our lands have been threatened, ravaged by those who would seek to do us harm, to take what is rightfully ours and destroy all that we hold dear. We have faced the scourge of traitors, bandits, and all manner of vile creatures who seek to harm us and bring chaos and destruction to our lands. But no longer! They will know the full extent of our wrath, and they will pay the price for their sins. We will not rest until we have purged this land of all who seek to do us harm; until we have stamped out every last vestige of darkness that would try to extinguish our light. We will hunt them down, no matter where they hide, and we will show them no mercy…

For those who dare to threaten the safety and security of my people, there will be no place to hide, no refuge to seek!”

Impassioned cheering broke out throughout the crowd at the lord’s declaration. The earl paused, signalling the crowd to fall silent as he gestured towards the bound bandits in a manner that could only be described as grandiose. “Behold,” he declared, much to Olga’s amusement, “the first of many. These two abominable creatures have been found suspect of having involvement in the razing of Longboat, Mells and South Rock Village. Should they be innocent in the eyes of the ancestors, a miracle shall be performed on their behalf and they shall be set free and allowed to return to wherever they desire. Should they not, may death take them as should be! Men! Bring forth the beams!”

Amidst the cacophony of even more cheering two large wooden beams were brought out and laid down beside the bound bandits. The unfortunate fellows squirmed on the ground where they lay as cripples. The townsfolk pelted them with all manners of items pausing only to allow the lord’s knights and guards to reach the men. The bandits were summarily tied and nailed through the wrist onto the beams; they squealed miserably throughout the process, the rabid shouting of the faceless masses rising in intensity around them. The beams were raised with their wretched occupants still stuck firmly on and made to stand in the centre of the town.

What a sight it was, a pair of pigs squealing on a baulk. Perhaps the young lord did have a bit more of his father’s blood than Olga first thought.

Impressive.