Shining Wyrm Trilogy [Original Fantasy/Dragon Fiction]

[Eclectic Fluff]

I certainly agree that this act of Jewel's will have wide reaching implications beyond her intent, and that she could stand to appreciate how sugnificant the improved quality of living for guards can be to them. However, I believe that Jewel's curse only applied to those acting without morals about their duty.

As the Countess of Viznove and Lady of Kaeketeh I pass Judgement on the traitor guards of House Bathory.
On all who have turned their eyes from the evil and vile acts done before them.
On all who saw and knew betrayal of the oaths of nobility and fealty and did nothing.
On those whose hands took life they should have guarded.
For every trespass against innocence, for every year stolen, for every drop of blood tainted.
I judge you guilty of all acts vile made under the shield of your complacency and cowardice.
I declare your penance shall be to live and suffer every year stolen under your watch or by your hand.

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Note that the first four lines specifying who specifically is to be judged are specifically for the guards who did not take any action upon realizing what the girls were being taken in for, save the last which only implicates those who directly killed anyone they were responsible for the safety of (both the late countess and populace). However, Bathory was living on borrowed time for years, so killing her wouldn't exactly be stealing any life even if that line weren't literal. There were some lingering doubts I had about how the wording might implicate some who attempted to act justly, but the following makes me feel like that wasn't the case either.

You betrayed any right to your duty and dishonored any defense in loyalty when you conspired to murder your liege and countess. If you had done this with righteousness you would have stood before me proudly instead of those you abandoned to suffer the full weight of your dishonor.

Click to shrink...

I interpret this as applying to who the curse effected rather than just what made Jewel decide upon her judgement. Granted, that might not be the case, so feel free to disagree on the grounds of literary analysis. Sith my interpritation, the curse would indeed have spared anyone acting purely out of duty to Bathory or outrage at the unjust things happening to the populace. Given that, none of the cursed would be undeserving of some punishment for their actions under any interpretation of virtue ethics. Adnittedly, virtue ethics aren't really popular in modern times, but at least in this case they aren't so at odds with consequentialist theories.

As for if Jewel is more at fault, her forcefully taking over would have had catestrophic results as I believe is touched upon in earlier chapters. As is, she has less experience and support from her new vassels than would be ideal. If Jewel actively comitted treason to stop Jaska sooner, she would be taking the city with even less experience on how to run it, and effectively declare that she is above the rules, with nothing to stop her siezing others' land. Seeing that, she will have set more or less the entirety of the Viznove nobility against her leaving her only option to be forcefully subjugating them as they fear. I highly doubt that this chain of events would lead to less lozs of life than what Jewel settled upon. She wasn't turning a blind eye to what was happening like the guards she judged did, but rather preparing as best she could to stop it without throwing Viznove into war and chaos as best she can.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

8.8

Adelyne was not having a good day.

She just found out her Grandfather died after she was captured. Of course no one bothered to tell her. She was in the Bathory Keep!

But still surely they could have done something to get word to her?

Yeah alright she knew better than that.

First the keep was locked down for Lady Jewel's wedding and the celebrations after. And then she was a solid ten days travel all the way out in the middle of nowhere Rochford. Somewhere she was honestly still not entirely sure how to get too from Kaeketeh or escape back from! And yes no one that knew Adelyne could have afforded to send a letter by bird!

But Still!

Did she have to find out like this?! Trying to track him down in his usual haunts to find no one knew where he was, finally getting told by his friends that she was already almost a year too late to mourn him? While she was desperately and completely unable to afford to even shed a tear for the man that had tried to see right by her even when her parents were gone?

Did she have to hear he was found dead on the very stones she had just run past this morning?

Adelyne was not even entirely sure that she was his granddaughter and not some lucky child adopted by him!

And yet that did not stop the reason she was trying to track down her now deceased mentor and probably relative. There were still far too many absolute fools trying to take a piece out of their former tormentors now that they were diminished and cursed into the form of helpless waifs.

It still meant that she was dodging her duties to her lady and bond owner on what ostensibly was a service to that same lady. In all honesty though Adelyne knew this was more the act of a desperate terrified girl trying to protect her city and its overabundance of fools from the horror and might of a dragon scorned!

Even when she thought they barely deserved it.

"Oiy maiden! Out of the way, in case you didn't hear these things are the bloody countess' men! They're all cursed by the proper shining wyrm herself for their evil! We are just doing our duty as fine citizens and subjects of the reigning lady."

Adelyne stared at the man. A rough sort of dock worker, the kind that probably never had much actual issue with the Countess' men. But maybe there had been a sister, daughter or mother lost?

He had a hint of that spite to suggest maybe there was blood debt involved?

Either way he was not going to be cowed by Adelyne despite her glare. But some of his cronies might be moved and anything that could cut down the number of burly men in the fight would be a boon. She looked at the cowering, far too expressive faces of the 'waifs'. It was so easy to forget what they were making faces like that. Worse than babies! Before she'd gotten the knack for thieving Adelyne would have paid the Knight's Mark she never had for a face like that!

Would have made back her money in half a season begging on the street!

She turned back to the encircling crowd of angry men, some of which had recovered enough from her gentle jabs to their sensitives they likely were already out for blood. This was going to be a scrap no matter what, but maybe less of one if she could give them pause?

"I am Adelyne, bonded woman in service to her ladyship Jewel of Rochford, Countess and Shining Wyrm of Viznove! And I am here to tell you idiots that if the wyrm hears that you've taken liberties with her already punished and then released subjects you will draw her wrath and her curses down on all of us!"

That got a few of the ones in the back and a couple she'd missed with her elbows to lower their clubs. Those likely had mostly been caught up in the fervor and opportunity. But given a moment to pause and look at her might stay out of it. Adelyne was wearing servant's clothing yes, but they were very fine cloth! She was obviously at least employed by a person of high standing.

She obviously had some kind of master or mistress that would be displeased if she was bloodied or disappeared. And if the keep staff's gossip could be believed Kaeketeh should mostly know that someone like Adelyne had been taken by Jewel.

Although from her own brief encounters today quite a few thought that she was dead and eaten after being taken by the dragon.

"Nah, I think you're just some sympathizer, boot licker to one of these once men? Maybe a sweetie whore? Looking for one last coin before they run dry? Well no worries you can have a first cut at their coin when we're done."

Adelyne glanced at the pouches that were held by some of the small figures. At the slowly clearing expressions of horror on those small faces.

She was turning back to try and muster a rebuttal when one of the high voices behind her spoke up.

"It is her! She's the one taken by the wyrm! I know because I was there! I was one of t-th-"
There was a hitch in the throat and when Adelyne glanced down at her surprise supporter she saw a face twisted into such anguish and loss it pulled at her heart.

"I was one of the men who chased her down! And what she says is true! I was barely with the Countess' guard for two years! Barely two years with the lot and the wyrm cursed me into this! I hadn't done anything! I wasn't even in the keep the night the Countess Died!"

As the words poured out the face it twisted, it went from pain to anger to the deepest and most roiling kind of rage Adelyne had ever seen. Brow curdled, lips pulled back, teeth were bared, nostrils flared and eyes seemed almost to blaze. What had a moment ago looked like the perfect image of a pleading needy almost fae like creature transformed in a blink into a feral vicious thing.

And despite the size of it a step forward from that tiny little figure pressed several of the men back a foot.

Adelyne adjusted her thoughts on the numbers. She had been feeling a bit queasy at her chances against so many work honed men. Even if she had managed to drive off half of them that would have been too many for her to handle in a brawl all on her own.

But the first of the waifs was joined by the other three. Their faces dropping their poleaxed fear for the rictus snarls of hate, they were once footmen, trained fighting men, soldiers..

They had once had if not respect then fear. But all of that was lost to them now. Adelyne saw that written plain on their every expression. Pain and hate and loss and now a sudden bloody minded fury. She'd seen a shadow of those expressions on the starving and mad who beat and bit and clawed for a crumb of bread or a half rotten rat.

That look alone on four of these child sized feral monsters taking up fighting stance was enough to actually drive several of the men to run and many more to shift nervously.

Even their leader was taken aback but like any man in his position Adelyne saw the pride come through.

"H-ho ho! Looks like we got some fight outta these liars and traitors! Can't trust any word from them! She's bluffing and japing! And the little beasts are accursed and weasley! Don't pay it mind! There's only five of them and their all of them smaller the-"

Adelyne had fought as little as she could manage, but when she knew a fight had to happen she also knew how she won a fight when the other kid was bigger, stronger and meaner than her.

She hit them before they were ready.

Adelyne was fast, she was spry, she had gotten better food then she ever had before in her life over the last few seasons. She probably could have taken a few of them, but not the dozen that were still looking ready to kick her ribs in.

But she'd recognized the look in those faces that were now with her. They were the vicious faces of someone with nothing to lose. And she knew as well that you didn't pick a fight with someone that looked like that if you wanted to get out of it unbitten. People with that look on their faces would gouge out your eyes after you stabbed them!

Adelyne had gone for the gut, the back just below the ribs and the so called family jewels. She hadn't stayed squared up with the bigger, stronger and probably better fighter but slid past him as soon as she could.

As she was turning around (making sure to put an elbow somewhere painful) she saw the four waifs leap into battle like starving dogs on a bone.

The club that her first target had dropped in his agony didn't even hit the cobbles.

It was in a pair of one of those slight hands as Adelyne turned.

It was swinging down hard and cracking a skull and face into the street by the time she had managed to shove another of their opponents.

It was already arcing back and around to take out one of the men's knees before she had even realized what it meant that these waifs had once been the footment of the countess. They looked somewhat like a nearly child fairy before! But now those faces were each pulled back into squirming snarls of rage and terror.

As soon as one had a club the others were salvaging weapons of their own from the fallen.

As soon as three of them were armed they were already moving back to back with one another and toppling comparative giants.

When all four of them had wood to swing around or in one case a broken off sharp end to stab with, Adelyne had nothing else to do. The terrified and frozen little things which had faces only showing terror and defeat had transformed into furious beasts. The groaning or silent bodies of their opponents were piled around them.

Blood was splashed in their mixed up hair and infant's smocks.

The street was empty save for the downed and the quite likely dying.

All but Adelyne and the trembling snarling things that almost looked like children, but now were unlike anything she could even describe.

They looked ready to turn on her, turn on anything, there was so much hurt and fear and panic. If they were dogs Adelyne would have backed away slowly. But they were not dogs, their eyes were sharp and roving and finally the gasping waifs settled on watching mostly her.

Until one of them looked past her and all the fury fell off that face for a heartbreaking display of fear and panicked hope.

"Lenka!?"

Adelyne shifted back a step as she turned to see whoever was being addressed (and get further away from these mad things!).

The woman who she guessed was Lenka fixed the blood spattered figure with baffled wonder in her eyes. Decently dressed, she wore what Adelyne would have once considered fine clothes indeed. She looked on the waif and was met by open adoration laced with a quickly rising panic.

Lenka's voice was incredibly shrill.

"Havel?! Where under all the fortune cursed stars have you been?!"

 

[Eclectic Fluff]

Adelyne … are you quite sure that you are actually helping? At least it has been established that the "children" have some amount of strength, regardless of their diminutive size. That makes one more point for their judgement being fair, neatly counterbalenced by the negative that there is now precedent for hostilities in the streets to go both ways.

If past patterns hold, then Friday's chapter should be the last of this part, which began with Jewel's arrival in the city. Additionally, we now know for sure that this is happening the same day Adelyne ran, so either Jewel has the situation resolved to her satisfaction enough that it is not on her mind two days hence, or she does not know at that time. Either way, the chapters thus far alltogether do not bode well for stability within the city.

 

[Zaealix]

…Two years Hunh?
That strikes me as potentially important.
Depending on how the curse works Havel here might turn back in two years…Or perhaps not.
That curse might very well be holding the weight of all those taken for the Countess, in which case those changes might be stuck with it for a long time indeed.

As for Havel…I think he's still going to lose Lenka. He can argue he's innocent but his partaking in this fight I think argues the point that no, he's not…
Forgiveness is a difficult thing indeed.
Jaska the Red, Protect your charges! If you must go Weird to do so then do it!

 

[Calico J]

I hadn't done anything!

Click to shrink...

Press X to doubt.

Go make your argument to the graves of the dead.

 

[MilitantBird]

I certainly agree that this act of Jewel's will have wide reaching implications beyond her intent, and that she could stand to appreciate how sugnificant the improved quality of living for guards can be to them. However, I believe that Jewel's curse only applied to those acting without morals about their duty.



Note that the first four lines specifying who specifically is to be judged are specifically for the guards who did not take any action upon realizing what the girls were being taken in for, save the last which only implicates those who directly killed anyone they were responsible for the safety of (both the late countess and populace). However, Bathory was living on borrowed time for years, so killing her wouldn't exactly be stealing any life even if that line weren't literal. There were some lingering doubts I had about how the wording might implicate some who attempted to act justly, but the following makes me feel like that wasn't the case either.



I interpret this as applying to who the curse effected rather than just what made Jewel decide upon her judgement. Granted, that might not be the case, so feel free to disagree on the grounds of literary analysis. Sith my interpritation, the curse would indeed have spared anyone acting purely out of duty to Bathory or outrage at the unjust things happening to the populace. Given that, none of the cursed would be undeserving of some punishment for their actions under any interpretation of virtue ethics. Adnittedly, virtue ethics aren't really popular in modern times, but at least in this case they aren't so at odds with consequentialist theories.

As for if Jewel is more at fault, her forcefully taking over would have had catestrophic results as I believe is touched upon in earlier chapters. As is, she has less experience and support from her new vassels than would be ideal. If Jewel actively comitted treason to stop Jaska sooner, she would be taking the city with even less experience on how to run it, and effectively declare that she is above the rules, with nothing to stop her siezing others' land. Seeing that, she will have set more or less the entirety of the Viznove nobility against her leaving her only option to be forcefully subjugating them as they fear. I highly doubt that this chain of events would lead to less lozs of life than what Jewel settled upon. She wasn't turning a blind eye to what was happening like the guards she judged did, but rather preparing as best she could to stop it without throwing Viznove into war and chaos as best she can.

Click to shrink...

Your rationale about Jewel acting to stop Bathory potentially sparking a civil war makes sense. I was thinking more along the lines of personal culpability and danger, without factoring in the potential cost in the lives of her subjects.

On all who have turned their eyes from the evil and vile acts done before them.
On all who saw and knew betrayal of the oaths of nobility and fealty and did nothing.
On those whose hands took life they should have guarded.

Click to shrink...

I think that this wording would also include anyone who allowed a woman to be taken to the dungeon.

For example, if you were a guardsman who intentionally allowed women to escape when you had the opportunity, you would still likely be complicit in several women being taken by Bathory's men when there wasn't an opportunity to let them escape. Or if you resigned after seeing the vampires in the basement and realizing that was what was happening to the women you sent to the dungeons, you would likely also still be afflicted.

"All but a dozen at most of the guard of Kaeketeh have suffered some degree of your curse. The worst of which struck those in this room with you but threads of the working bled soon after from those until it reached nearly every single man who ever wore the Countess Bathory's colors. Retired or otherwise!"

The Weird of the bog placed their hand on her coils and patted gently.
"That is over seven hundred targets!

Click to shrink...

Whatever the criterion was, it's stated that only 12 out of 700 guardsmen met it, which was less than 2%. It's possible that only 2% behaved morally, but it's clear that this curse was far from discriminate.

It doesn't differentiate between degrees of guilt, or mitigating circumstances, or account for the possibility that for a good number of them, their inaction and failure to stop this injustice might have been coerced through the threat of a fate worse than death.

As for the proportionality of the curse, the words "I declare your penance shall be to live and suffer every year stolen under your watch or by your hand." implies that most of the guards will be transformed for the natural lifespan of the women they imprisoned, meaning decades at minimum for most of them.

This curse isn't discriminate, or proportionate, or practical. It's actually even worse for the kingdom if the guardsmen still retain their physical strength. Now, instead of persecuted homeless beggars and invalids, you've got a swarm of nearly 700 enraged, emasculated, disfigured and persecuted gremlins with nothing left to lose and no hope of rejoining society or ever getting a normal job plaguing the kingdom.

Murder and crime rates are going to spike through the roof.

Also, I think the idea that the guardsmen responsible for overthrowing Bathory should have stood proudly before Jewel and accepted their punishment is frankly bizarre. I mean, would you willing confess your crimes to the successor of a tyrant monarch after you overthrew her? Why?

 

[Eclectic Fluff]

Thanks for the thorough response. While I still feel like must have been some level of discerning in the curse, I don't disagree at all that it effected individuals not nearly as deserving as those we have seen thus far, and to a similar degree. With regards to the former guards' new position in society, it is one shade worse than what you predicted. Not only will they be a menace to the rest of society, but a temporarily immortal one at that. And, even if they are not in fact all that physically strong, the guards still demonstrated the ability to gravely wound others. Wow, it really is bad, and with little hope that anything can be done to make it less bad.

This really does highlight how Jewel's understanding of human experience is not only learned, but also based nearly entirely on how people act in her rural homeland. In her experience, people don't get into altercations with the intent to seriously harm, let alone kill, except under very rare circumstances. Additionally, she has always held honor, including honorable death, in the highest regard. Of course she would become angry at how the culpable guards didn''t freely turn themselves in despite the fact that their punishment would become a certainty then. Of course she would expect the former guards to turn to a relatively peaceful coexistance with their communities once out of her sight. Jewel unequivocally needs to learn from her actions here, her continued inexperience will lead to the state of chaos Adelyne fears, whether or not she sees what her new subjects are doing to the cursed guards.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

8.9

Jewel was not expecting to have to see one of the Countess' former men, his wife and Jewel's own bonded servant Adelyne brought in under charges of assault and murder.

Especially not so soon after she had settled matters with two more of her vassals!

The day had been going so well too!

She was even relieved! The two barons had only needed accommodations for paying for mules to drag barges up river back to Kaeketeh on the coin of Viznove instead of coffers of the two vassals whose demesne were downriver. It was such a delightfully simple and familiar sort of bargaining that after some conferring with her family Jewel was happy to agree to.

With a pittance of a few pfennig on the grosz in their favor both had eagerly sworn to Jewel and with them and Kliatbatrn sworn Jewel now had the entirety of the River Vah secured. As the longest river in Viznove it would be a powerful weight on the other vassals to fall in line or risk being cut off from trade beyond the county near entirely!

Of course it was after the ceremony where they both swore to her that Muriel was proverbially pulling Jewel aside to inform of the trouble that her servant had somehow gotten herself tied up into.

What was Adelyne even doing outside the keep?!

Apparently according to said servant Adelyne was doing Jewel's will and trying to protect her recently released batch of 'accursed waifs' from being abused and tormented by angry citizenry and ruffians in Kaeketeh proper!

Which was a shock.

Especially when Muriel confirmed what had been happening since they started releasing them.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

A command which Muriel dutifully obeyed.

"Twelve corpses of the released waifs have already been found. I can't say how many others are yet to be discovered, but besides the four that were with the bonded servant Adelyne and Gaurdswife Magdalena I've heard reports at least twenty more were discovered alive but wounded and despoiled!"

Jewel could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her voice was rumbling far more than she wanted. There were just shy of eight hundred of the accursed when she released them!

It had been two days since they were first released!

She could barely contain the first thing to pass through her thoughts.

"H-how did you find so many in an afternoon?"

Muriel spat away from Jewel before she said with a fury that could not be contained despite her usually professional demeanor.

"Of the living and dead those we've found were strung up at cross roads or squares for all to see. We hardly needed to look my Lady! We've not even begun to check alleys or the river and I hardly have the footmen to start on such while training the new guard."

Jewel stared at nothing.

She'd wanted this to be justice, but not like this! She had wanted the men complicit in the Countess' cruelty to pay for what they had taken!

But looking down at the one that had only avoided that fate because her servant had managed to inspire enough righteous fury to defend themselves? She turned and stared at Adelyne, who had probably only saved these few with her quick thinking.

Why had no one told Jewel this might happen?!

She had felt good about how cleanly she had resolved the matter! And now they were out there in the streets of her city suffering...

Jewel looked down on the thing that looked like a child, well that she thought looked like a child but everyone else insisted was anything but. At a face that could not help but twist into a scowl of fury at her despite every effort to hide it.

There was anger in the woman standing beside the girl looking thing Jewel had made of her husband.

That had not occurred to Jewel either.

Some of the Countess' men had wives.

Some had families.

Some even had children!

Jewel was the law! she had to fix this!

She looked around those witnessing her judgment. She saw far too many faces looking like soldiers eager for blood. No that would not do! That was not what she had wanted at all! Jewel took in a heavy breath and brought forth her mother's lessons.

Poise and grace no matter how your heart beats.

"As Countess and law of the city of Kaeketeh and the County Viznove I declare you innocent of the charges. Your acts were honorable under my eye and-"
No that was not enough, She had to do something more about this.

"And I reiterate my prior judgment, the former men of Viznove, who so served the Countess Bathory have already received all due punishment for their crimes by my justice! Until such times that they steal, murder, despoil or otherwise trespass by common or noble law they are subjects of Viznove! To be protected as any other!"

But still the two faces of those Jewel could not deny she had wronged glared at her. One far more subtle than the other. It was like something sharp roiling in her stomach and dousing her flames to see so much hate in so young seeming a face.

What good were words spoken in a court? Jewel needed this to be known outside and beyond!

"Send word to the criers. Proclaim this every third hour of daylight in kaeketeh for seven days hence!"

Jewel felt a revulsion at what she had done, what was still happening from her actions!

She needed to do something more, something to stop this!

"Furthermore anyone who violates or disrespects t-the waifs will be tried as... as if their act had been done to a lady of Noble Blood and Rank!"

Surely that was enough? No Jewel could feel it burning. That wouldn't bring back the ones that already had perished or worse because of her fit of pique!

She didn't want this!

But Jewel had done it?

...

So surely she could take it back?

Undo what had been wrought, find a better less awful punishment?

But even before the thought had finished settling in her head Jewel felt a scathing burn inside her flame. A stinging lash which rang first inside her coils and then echoed in a snarling refusal from the world itself.

Jewel's impulse to snarl back was open upon her face but even that amount of defiance echoed and magnified within and without her! Silencing her unspoken pleas that this was not what she had intended at all!

Her defiance however guttered out as her very wyrm flame seemed to abandon her in that refusal.

It left her staggering in a way that made everyone in the feasting hall step back from her. Probably out of concern she would collapse again. But as soon as she relented, the weakness passed.

All told she was entirely empty of her inner fire for only for a moment, a barely single breath.

But where Gem could sustain such an absence, Jewel's larger self absolutely could not!

Even now the slight tremor of a thought to try and take back what she had done made her inner flames writhe and weaken.

Despite how much she had wanted to deny it she couldn't.

The answer was as clear as could be.

A Singular No.

Jewel could not take back what she had wrought in the world.

Her sentence was yet unfulfilled.

What had been made would not be undone by her own decree.

She had asked the world for this.

And it had done as she wished.

As she had willed.

And apparently it had no concept of mistakes or regret.

Jewel stared down at the open and guilelessly fearful face below her.

The terror in those eyes she had declared this man should bear however unintentionally.

A child's face staring at Jewel with all the horror she had once seen given to Bathory.

There was only one thing to do.

Something Bathory never would have even conceived of.

Jewel Apologized.

"I'm sorry."

 

[Nighzmarquls]

8.i

Of the four heads into which I have divided the nature and force of the right, the first, which consists in the cognizance of truth, bears the closest relation to human nature.

For we are all attracted and drawn to the desire of knowledge and wisdom, in which we deem it admirable to excel, but both an evil and a shame to fail, to be mistaken, to be ignorant, to be deceived.

In this quest of knowledge, both natural and right, there are two faults to be shunned, — one, the taking of unknown things for known, and giving our assent to them too hastily, which fault he who wishes to escape (and all ought so to wish) will give time and diligence to reflect on the subjects proposed for his consideration.

The other fault is that some bestow too great zeal and too much labor on things obscure and difficult, and at the same time useless.

These faults being shunned, whatever labor and care may be bestowed on subjects becoming a virtuous mind and worth knowing, will be justly commended.

Thus we learn that Caius Sulpicius was versed in astronomy, as I myself knew Sextius Pompeius to be in geometry, as many are in logic, many in civil law, — all which sciences are concerned in the investigation of truth, but by whose pursuit duty will not suffer one to be drawn away from the active management of affairs.

For the reputation of virtue consists wholly in active life, from which, however, there is often a respite, and frequent opportunities are afforded for returning to the pursuit of knowledge.

At the same time mental activity, which never ceases, may retain us, without conscious effort, in meditation on the subjects of our study.

But all thought and mental action ought to be occupied either in taking counsel as to the things that are right and that appertain to a good and happy life, or in the pursuit of wisdom and knowledge.

I have thus spoken of the first source of duty.

-Letters on Duty by Marcus Tulius Tritico of Cantor

 

[Nighzmarquls]

8.ii

Concerning the Way of Telling the Weather by the Birds, and Knowing if it Will be Fine or Rainy Weather.

It is necessarily part of the shepherd's job that he should know about the weather and in order to take instruction in this, he should pay attention to several things.

Concerning Starlings

It often happens in winter that starlings gather in great crowds and fly together and sometimes they sit on an elm or other tall tree. So the shepherd should pay attention to how the starlings take off from the elm tree, for when they leave all together in one flock, this means great cold; if they leave in small groups, one after the other, this is sign of rain.

Concerning the Heron

When the heron rises from its foraging and cries out loudly on its ascent, this indicates rugged and harsh weather. If it flies into the north wind, this means great cold. If it flies into the southwest wind from the valley, which the shepherds call plunging, this means rain.

If the heron on return from its flight settles again near the place from which it left, this indicates that the weather described above will soon arrive. If it flies and settles at some distance from where it took off, the change in the weather will be delayed and will not come as soon.

Concerning the Swallow

When the swallow flies really high and leisurely in long swoops, this means rain.

When it flies low and fast near the ground, this means an abundance of rain.

When it is in the air and sporting about seeking little flies, this indicates fine weather.

-Old Jean of Brie, a Shepherd of the Free Men's Lands.

 

[Zaealix]

8.ii

Concerning the Way of Telling the Weather by the Birds, and Knowing if it Will be Fine or Rainy Weather.

It is necessarily part of the shepherd's job that he should know about the weather and in order to take instruction in this, he should pay attention to several things.

Concerning Starlings

It often happens in winter that starlings gather in great crowds and fly together and sometimes they sit on an elm or other tall tree. So the shepherd should pay attention to how the starlings take off from the elm tree, for when they leave all together in one flock, this means great cold; if they leave in small groups, one after the other, this is sign of rain.

Concerning the Heron

When the heron rises from its foraging and cries out loudly on its ascent, this indicates rugged and harsh weather. If it flies into the north wind, this means great cold. If it flies into the southwest wind from the valley, which the shepherds call plunging, this means rain.

If the heron on return from its flight settles again near the place from which it left, this indicates that the weather described above will soon arrive. If it flies and settles at some distance from where it took off, the change in the weather will be delayed and will not come as soon.

Concerning the Swallow

When the swallow flies really high and leisurely in long swoops, this means rain.

When it flies low and fast near the ground, this means an abundance of rain.

When it is in the air and sporting about seeking little flies, this indicates fine weather.

-Old Jean of Brie, a Shepherd of the Free Men's Lands.

Click to shrink...

…A part of me imagines the scholarly? Marcus Tulius Tritico of Cantor walking up to Old Jean of Brie, and rather confusing the latter by asking for his wisdom on various subjects.
Not enough confusion to agree to the request though!
…Probably without monetary compensation for his time…

 

[Eclectic Fluff]

Well, that chapter was more emotional than I expected it to be, even with how it inevitably had to be a tragic mess. I'll try to write up a proper summery of thoughts when I have more time. The second interlude is clearly symbolic about how people ae reacting to the changing social climate, but I don't know nearly enough about birds to figure out a more detailed reading without research.

 

[thepsyborg]

Well this is a truly lovely story, and shame on me for scrolling past it a dozen times before the last few days' binge.

Stellar fucking work.

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

Is no one considering that it doesn't seem jewel actually planned what it would do, like at all? Just felt herself hit a groove and went with it.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

9.1

Havel looked up at his wife.

He could not say he actually disliked the view, there was a lot he loved about Lenka. And a lot of it could in fact be appreciated looking up at her with his brow not even reaching above her hips.

It was however disorienting and had made quite a lot of familiar moments foreign and strange or outright impossible. They could not embrace the way they once did. He couldn't lean over her shoulder and squeeze her with his hands clasped in hers anymore. He could not rest his head in her hair and just breath deeply as they stood together anymore.

And then there was the undeniable fact that he had been unmanned. More deeply and utterly then even a mere 'wound to the thigh' as some of the tales put it.

It wasn't fair!

He'd courted Lenka since either of them were old enough!

And now barely into their second year of marriage he was cursed, disgraced and tossed out. A season's pay in silver would go a while but what was he going to do after?!

The only work he knew how to do was shoveling shit out of cesspits for his father's trade and being a footman! He'd married Lenka on vow to Stribog that they would have children and riches for their union!

"Oiy! Foolish husband! Stop brooding!"

He denied it but knew she would see the truth in his traitorous face.
"I w-wasin't brooding wife!"

Havel could not stop the scowl from washing over his face before it was followed by a wince and then the damnably unstoppable tears.

It was the subtlest but cruelest of violations of his curse that.

Havel's face was not his own.

Beyond just the look and feel it did not obey him!

Every feeling, every thought, a passing fancy, a moment of joy.

Everything that Havel felt got splayed out all over his face for anyone to see! When he could have kept his thoughts to himself, spared his wife from the weight of concerns or the pain he had after a rough spar now every single one of those acts were denied him!

He'd spent years learning to hold firm and noble and stoic for his duty and all those years of discipline were now lost!

All of that gone, replaced with the incontinent and shameful tears and squirming roiling flesh of his face that refused to not scream to everyone with eyes every single secret he coveted, every moment of weakness he tried to push past, every flicker of cowardice!

Before he could even try to get control of his face suddenly there were arms around him, there was a bosom against his cheek and a soft shushing voice in his hair. His Lenka had dropped down to kneel next to him so that she could hold him in her arms like she once did.

They were home, this was his wife that at least for the moment was willing to pretend the way he no longer could!

His hair was too long and it came in sprouts that each felt and hung differently but the fingers running through it soothed some.

"Hush you foolish foolish husband of mine."

Even if he could not keep his brows from furrowing, his cheeks sinking deep scowling lines of grief. The water poured from his clenched lids.

He hid the traitorous face that spilled his every thought to the world in Lenka's chest and finally stopped trying to fight the overwhelming sorcery of his curse. His poor wife held him. Running her fingers through his hair and rubbing his back in small circles.

And he howled with a voice that was far too shrill and childlike. Smothering it into the cloth of her dress to somewhat muffle the shame.

He wanted to stop, that cloth was expensive, and they needed to save. Washing women was not going to be so easy an expense to afford now! But he couldn't! He couldn't do anything but howl and cry into the front of his wife's dress until it was sopping with tears and snot that stuck to his face and slipped in salty rivulets into his too small mouth.

He didn't deserve her, Lenka bore his disgusting cries and ruining of her clothes.

She hushed his infantile tears.

Finally the sobs stopped, his chest felt empty, his throat was raw from howling into Lenka's clothes. His face was a disgusting mix of sticky, slimy and faintly crusted effluvium.

Her dress was a disaster.

But he felt like he could pull away, his awful face was still, slack on his skull.

At least until he finally looked up at Lenka. And then he could feel things happening around his eyes, he could feel the corners of his mouth curl before he even knew why.

She beamed down at him with some of her own hair out of sorts and a redness to her eyes he'd not expected and immediately made him start to grimace, the writhing muscles stopped by a sudden strike to his nose!

"Oiy! None of that you were JUST starting to smile at how beautiful your wife is ya fool man!"

The smarting pain brought what seemed impossible, a new sheen of wetness to his oversized eyes. But then she said that one word and his smile was so wide he must have looked like a fool.

She called him a man.

Before he could say anything she was talking over him again.

"There, that's better. Now if you're feeling better just what fool thing has snarled up in my idiot husband's heart?"

He couldn't take it, she kept saying words like that. Calling him what he'd been robbed like she couldn't see the thing that beast of a countess had made of him! His voice was raw, it was angry but even when ragged and croaking he still sounded far too young, far too fair in voice.

"I'm not your husband anymore Lenka. You don't have to call me tha-"

The slap was hard, it actually laid him out on his ass, but despite the force and the distance he fell it only stung his face.

"Oh sod that you fool of a shit hauler's son! Are you trying to call down three more curses on both our heads with talk like that?!"

His traitorous face for once did not move, just hung there like he wanted it too. But soon his brow was coming together and the snarl of his anger was twisting up. Churning over his lips and nose.

"You married a man! We made our vow as a man and a woman! But this curse has stripped me of everything! How can I be your husband Lenka?! look at me!"

Lenka huffed and stood up, loomed over him like a giant. Hands planted on her hips, the way her dress was soaked through accenting some of her finer features in a way that was just distracting enough his traitorous face flushed and squirmed.

But he kept his eyes mostly on her face. Attentive to her words.

"I remember our vows to the god of bounty, coin and sowing seeds! Do you?!"

He stared, of course he remembered!

The words rose from his throat even as he was still propped up on the floor of their modest apartment.

"Stribog, Lord and star of the Fickle North Wind. I, Havel Nightmanson, vow to you a palm of seeds scattered every tenth day sunset and your light upon my first born. So you may bless us a family secure in wealth, health and prosperity. In this marriage to my wife Magdalena."

Lenka nodded down so his eyes met hers, wet but bright and fierce. Speaking the words she had said under the star of a god of wind and change. The only one who had come for the marriage of a simple gong farmer's son and a spinster's daughter.

"Stribog, Light of the clever North Wind. I, Magdalena Weaverdottir, vow to you a rope wound of my hair each year. Burnt in your name and your light upon my first born. So you may bless me with patience, my children with wisdom and my love safety. In this marriage to my husband Havel."

He stared at her; he could not stop the slight curl of a smile, and he saw a mirror of it if more minute on his wife's face.

But her smile soured as his faded. Havel spat the words.

"That's it though! That was a vow to a husband! How can I be your husband if I'm not even a man?!"

Lenka snarled down at him.

"You're my husband if I say you are and unless Stribog himself comes down to say otherwise we are married husband and wife and our vows still hold! Do you want to call down a god?! Do we need to go to the temple and pay the coin for it? Is that what it's going to take to prove you are still mine and I'm still yours?!"

Her voice was shrill, she had a fury almost as plain on her face as his was.

But at the same time.

If there was a chance that the gods themselves still saw him as a man?

Maybe it would be enough to cure this curse?

Lenka stared down at him and he wished he could stop the way his face betrayed his every thought as she laughed at him, there were still tears in her eyes, she was still flushed and honestly he wished he could keep how that made him feel from his face as well.

But even so she spoke before he could master his own newfound and cursed weakness.

"Oh fine! If it takes three grosz in silver to get my fool husband to see sense that price will be cheap."

Her tone was light but he winced at that. It was not a small sum for a disgraced footmen with just some savings and a last season of pay.

But his heart and face refused to stay dimmed.

He could not conceal the hope he felt welling inside anymore than the fear.

Stribog would either declare him unmanned entirely and in doing so free his dear Lenka to stop forcing herself to care for a useless waste of flesh.

Or...

Havel couldn't quite even think of it.

His face was betraying him enough as it was.

 

[Zaealix]

It seems like the Gods are going to have quite the conundrum on their hands with this…

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

It seems like the Gods are going to have quite the conundrum on their hands with this…

Click to shrink...

"I'm sorry you were cursed by who?"
*Pretends to not hear*
"Oh my look at the time!"

 

[Nighzmarquls]

9.2

Jewel sighed.

Why did so many people live so close together as this?!

She had visited Kaeketeh once a year since she was nine winters old, but she had never fully realized what the vastness of the city's ten-thousand people meant!

Honestly more than were recorded might be in Kaeketeh at any given moment. There might only be ten thousand who officially resided and worked in Kaeketeh but many hundreds or sometimes thousands more moved through it!

It was at least half of the army that had marched with Jewel to war.

And now there was a terrible lack of trained and experienced footmen to maintain order and peace of so many men, women and children crammed too close together, whether they be strangers or residents.

Rochford, Valasect and Dewgrove did not have the same number of footmen combined as Jewel had cursed. And not all of those were available to be sent to Kaeketeh or skilled in managing the work required. The training in arms and conduct were the same, but the needs of Valasect, Rochford or even Kliatbatrn paled when put up against the responsibilities that had once fallen to the Countess' Men!

The gate and bridge watches alone! At least middletown mostly had families and people of means to see to their own order.

But Gate Town?

The surrounding huddle of buildings just outside it?

Two thirds of Kaeketeh had turned to lawlessness and near outright banditry!

Her decree had at least stopped them from stringing up the 'cursed waifs' on street corners stripped, beaten and violated. But horrors were still happening despite how Adelyne was taking to her new responsibility as 'speaker for the streets'.

The probably still no longer a thief had a rapport with the people in Gate town which fed Jewel with a vital line of information. Like a gryphon rider scouting the lands ahead of a march the young woman walked through the city to gauge what was on the horizon of tomorrow for Kaeketeh.

If only the news she could bring were better.

For every dozen of the former footmen whose wellbeing was known, there was at least one that was missing or confirmed dead.

And Adelyne only had so much pull with her home (although surprisingly more than Jewel had expected from a mere thief girl). Still where the waifs were not being victimized they were as often enacting violence of their own.

In the days after their release one no longer saw any of them traveling in numbers fewer than four after dark. And most had taken to carrying staves or clubs and what leather mail or arms they could afford on the pay Jewel had released them with. Many were also taking to covering their mouths in cloth at minimum.

Other waifs were starting to favor wooden or leather masks!

And the complaints about them were far too numerous for the sparse skeleton of a trained guard in the city to address. Even with serious fines and punishment for false claims.

There had always been thieves, beggars and the like in Kaeketeh. She had smelled and seen them every year, But now warring packs of brigands, whether waif or 'full-man' were out in the night. Houses and stores had been burgled!

And in the midst of a city with at least a third of it on the verge of dissolving into chaos every night Jewel was trying to win over her remaining vassals!

Why was this not a matter of headmen or other confidants to provide common law in Kaeketeh?

Because Countess Bathory had found a way to strike back at Jewel from beyond her own burnt and scattered pyre! The Countess' men had consisted of the entirety of the people of Kaeketeh's means of appealing for common law!

As far as her curse was concerned every arbiter of common law or advocate for her subjects in Kaeketeh of lower birth had served in the Countess' footmen.

At least any that she could still find signs of!

Because those that had not befallen to the curse had fled the city!

Jewel and her allies were all alone in Kaeketeh.

It was just her, what vassals were willing to lend footmen (with concessions in their obligations of course), her family and a few true allies.

And the Guilds.

Jewel had not been prepared for the guilds.

She had read of them, she had a passing familiarity with the idea. Thurzó spoke of his own domain's guilds sometimes in his letters. But Jewel was otherwise caught aghast by them.

Rochford and Valasect had no need of guilds. There were freemen, some headmen to represent the common law of the peasant concerns. And little else for the Lady or Lord to worry about. This was all very sensible for good simple villages of a few hundred.

But Kaeketeh was a city of just shy of ten thousand by the ledgers.

From one season to another a hundred or so might die, or be born, or slip away or into the city. With so many not only was there horrific amounts of shit and other waste.

But instead of having a sensible handful of people skilled in crafts the city had hundreds!

In every craft and trade! In some trades Jewel had never even heard of!

Guilds for iron working, for fishing, for boat making, for carpentry, for 'gathering night soil'. Guilds for the brothels and baths and drink houses. A Guild for the stone workers (little that there were).

Even ones for porters and merchants.

Jewel would not be surprised if there was a guild for the filthy thieves and beggars in this city!

And where at least Jewel's vassals seemed at least slightly cowed by her act of cursing over seven hundred men for the crimes of betrayal to the city of Kaeketeh and the Countess Bathory?

The guilds were quite politely and insistently, nay incessantly complaining!

Weavers guilds and dyers guilds!

"If we could make a deal for good Rochford wyrmthread and cloth Countess? Shameful really having the price so high with you here with us."

The guild for the nightmen (which horror of horrors when Jewel found out what they did!) had been especially cross with Jewel because apparently one of their members in high standing had a son that was one of the cursed!

There had been an oh so polite and perfectly calm man in her courtroom that had quietly threatened her without even stepping a toe out of courtesy due her station.

"Well given the troubles we just might not be able to do our duty Countess. Streets at night are no longer safe for the carts see?"

The Baker's guild had sent an equally polite man last morning saying that given all the difficulties there just wasn't going to be as much bread available at the keep.

"Deeply sorry Countess, but we bakers have to rise well before dawn, and it is just so perilous now. It's everything we can do to see the good people fed."

And then there were the millers.

"Well we can't even hire enough guards to watch our carts Countess, shameful really I try but just can't always make a delivery cept in daylight hours."

Jewel felt like the entire city was slipping away from her. All of these guilds smiled and apologized and the worst part is hardly any of them were lying! No if she pressed Jewel always got the truth of the matter. They always offered a higher price to cover the costs she had genuinely caused them.

But there was only so much that silver could solve. Kaeketeh was like a wounded animal bleeding out now. All because Jewel had wanted to enact justice!

It felt like everything was just about to collapse around her.

And all of this was when she absolutely could not afford to have it happen!

She needed the city to be stable, to be safe, for it to be secure so that she could leave and return home and settle things in Valasect! So that she could continue working with Paul on all the intricate alliances and graciousness required by their roles! She probably needed to see to building a larger feasting hall given all the people that needed to see her!

Her little stone manor house was apparently far too small for the sheer volume of personages she could expect to treat with as the countess of Viznove. Even with the expansion of most of the rooms and chambers for Jewel's comfort!

But before any of that she needed secured vassalage from all the barons and other lords of Viznove. She needed the city to be stable and secure! She needed to not have to worry about where her breakfast was coming from! She needed to settle the matters with the guilds and somehow rebuild the entire apparatus of common law in Kaeketeh!

Jewel's wings flared out, her neck arched, she touched both sides of the chamber and the ceiling of this accursed feasting hall!

She had barely had a chance to escape this single room in five days!

She had not had a chance to fly in twelve!

How was any of this right?!

Jewel was the Countess!

She was the final law in the land of Viznove!

Supposedly Jewel was the ruler of these lands and yet she felt more powerless then she ever had in her life!

It made the fire in her chest lash out and try to crawl free from her throat.

 

[SilverBlade]

I think you need to lay off a bit, this is getting depressing. Too depressing that is. Like I feel bad after reading this and wish I hadn't. I also want to keep up on the story, but this is not fun for me to read. Too many problems.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

I think you need to lay off a bit, this is getting depressing. Too depressing that is. Like I feel bad after reading this and wish I hadn't. I also want to keep up on the story, but this is not fun for me to read. Too many problems.

Click to shrink...

I'd say that we are in the midst of the dramatic equivelant for this book of the war in the last book.

However due to the nature of this sort of problem there is a lot more text and the tension is spread out a bit differently. Where as in Book I: The Shining Wyrm we mostly were dealing with anticipatory dread of the war for the majority of the text.

In the blood Immaculate we are dealing with the trailing fallout of a sparse few decisions and picking up the pieces of that.

It's definitely got a differently emotional and tension curve to it.

But one of the reasons the blood Immaculate is shaping up to be longer (more chapters/arcs) than the Shining Wyrm is that it needs more time to recover and release its tension then the relatively rapid spike we got in The Shining Wyrm.

Since I've already written well into arc 12 I can only say that I'm pretty sure it won't stay this difficult, but if this is bothering you a week in maybe use that as an excuse to take a break so you can come back and binge through the sharper parts of the story.

 

[Zaealix]

Uh-oh.
That sounds rather like the Dragon is getting tired of all these squabbling servants. So much for load-bearing evil lords who have the courtesy of having domains that collapse leaving no survivors to cause trouble!

Man…
The annoying thing is I don't consider the former Counteds men all that reliable, but I think ultimately it WAS a case of Jewel acting rashly as a ruler…

But the trouble is she always would need to clean house in some form, so this was not great but beats, say, raining down Wyrmfire from on high…

 

[Altom]

I am meanwhile busy trying to calculate the size of the gun Jewel shot herself in the foot with.

 

[Arcane Howitzer]

I am meanwhile busy trying to calculate the size of the gun Jewel shot herself in the foot with.

Click to shrink...

It's at least the size of a small artillery piece, and probably some sort of explosive fragmentary round considering how it seems to have punched holes in the workings of pretty much the entire city

 

[Nighzmarquls]

9.3

Paul found himself in a position strangely in mirror to the very one he had originally been raised to perform.

Before his late mother's whim had declared Jewel Heir to the House Bathory and the county of Viznove it was assumed that he would one day stand in the place his wife and countess now held.

Although it had been expected he would be more a count of war like his father it was as his tutors often told him just as important to know how to manage the realm in times of peace.

"Make yourself a relief from the oversight of your wife and countess instead of a burden which causes your subjects and court to yearn for your absence in war."

Which was a lesson he really needed to discuss more deeply with Jewel.

When both of them had time.

But here he was presiding over a court of law.

Although in this case it was technically over 'common law'. But with the entire apparatus of lawmen either fled from the city or accursed and dishonored, someone had to fill the void until the damage to the city garrison and administration could be repaired.

And with Jewel obviously strained with still needing to see to the negotiations with the most itinerant half of her yet to be sworn vassals that responsibility fell to him.

Although he was thankfully not entirely alone.

Kraok was barely an elevated peasant of a provincial manor. But he had a sense of fairness to him.

Muriel was a trained and knowledgeable martial lady who was even more skilled in history and law than the sword. She'd spent long years working as a governess and made a decent if improvisational dispenser of justice.

Bromthil was worse than Muriel in matters of justice and common law, himself mostly a mere captain of war, but he had an eye for discipline as pertained to the army on the march and knew common folk's temperament by his position among the levies during war.

Smithson was surprisingly the most valuable after Muriel in assisting Paul in these matters. He'd been attending with Jewel in the courtly dinners and learning with the passion of the truly loyal in spite of his extended responsibilities seeing to little Gem. He was where he lacked knowledge of history and legality, the closest out of any of them in knowing what Jewel would have wanted.

And so between the five of them there are almost enough to form a rotating council for justice over common law in Kaeketeh.

That did not in fact mean that there were enough of them to manage all the churning appeals, judgements or even scheduling and clerical work required for the hundreds of people in need of them.

And every less trained or able individual that was put between trouble and Paul or his nascent council was an opportunity for the very injustice he knew Jewel needed to avoid.

It was seizing the courts terribly.

Furthermore, of the captains and Kraok their time was even more precious as they also were overseeing the training and education of a new Kaeketeh Guard! With heraldry in the city's colors and new oaths to the City and then the Countess!

Jewel and Paul had discussed the burgeoning force and given the already rampant unrest decided declaring the new footmen for the city itself instead of a ruling family seemed best. Especially given that the populace that were suffering the most in the chaos were in the common families that predominantly inhabited Gate Town and the immediate surroundings.

Which was its own sort of trouble. All his tutors had insisted Guilds grew all the more dangerous when armed. But it was the Guilds and lesser members of the noble houses and families among Jewel's vassals that were currently assuring the peace in Middletown.

That was probably a headache waiting to break free.

But he had nothing for this future trouble yet. Paul lacked the hours in his own day, or the trusted men to delegate too for even gate town! He and the rest of the council barely had the time to hear and resolve the judgment on common law matters that they did. Leaving Jewel to handle her vassals with little but brief counsel from him each evening!

Yet he did what he could. And what he could was act as judge for common law until such matters could be better delegated.

Paul waved for the next case to be presented.

"The Court of Common Law in Kaeketeh will now see Villiam De Ros, Merchant, Residing from the corner of Wharf and Peckling street. As well as the primary accused Waif Bered of no residence, Presided by the Lord Count and Consort Paul Nádasdy "

The crier was one of the younger sons of a guildmaster.

A favor to said guild of butchers and sopers for them resolving a few matters of secured delivery of their goods to the keep and taking up pikes for peace in their side of the tanner's district.

Paul sat on the common law stool. As would normally be suited one of significantly lower station then the husband and consort of the Countess of Visnove. Thankful that a scribe was at least available untouched by Jewel's curse to record the judgements and appeals.

He had already done it himself too many days!

Small mercies.

This was liable to be a bad one, as there was a waif involved. And his fear was not calmed when he saw how this one garbed herself. Dressed up in shortened leathers, trousers and mouth obscuring veil that had become custom for a good portion of the once men.

Beside her a full man with dark hair, clothes on the finer side and a black eye fumed. There were bruises and bandages as well. He had brought a boy that was probably his son by the apparent age. The boy really was hardly younger looking than Paul himself but was equally roughed up. Although maybe not favoring an elbow as gingerly. He made the gesture for the bruised man to speak first.

"I-, er, that is, I am Villiam De Ros my lord count sir, I'm here to a-appeal for punishment of the crimes of burglary, trespass and kidnapping sir."

Paul nodded.

"The accused and the specifics of the crime?"

The man, who was almost assuredly a better off merchant of some means, cleared his throat and shook himself. Throwing a finger at the mostly still waif just a few paces away from him.

"It was that accursed waif Bere! Along with her cronies, the bald pissant Roger and that cheater and shortchanger down the street from me, Robert is his name! Him along with his buddy Nicholas the tailor! They all broke into my home and cellar in the night, stole up my bondsman villein from the cellar and then furthermore stole from my wife a coffer with a full knight's mark weight in silver and some dozen Pfennig besides!"

Paul wanted to sigh and rub his brow. Despite Jewel's mercy there were far too many of the former guards that had sunk immediately into banditry or worse upon their release.

But for every one of them that took to unlawful malfeasance three more were suffering for the ire of those seeking revenge for those acts or ones done before in their role as his mother's footmen!

Hopefully this matter would be relatively simple.

It was a blessing so many of the accursed waifs insisted on proclaiming their names and being known by them. It would have been trivial with their penchant for masks, similar builds and veils to vanish among the rest.

Paul was pretty sure some already had and more would in future.

"That charge is serious."

Villiam scowled and shook his finger in fury.

"Damn fortune's right it is! Robert and Nicholas are still sitting fine and pretty after their theft! That cheap-whore thighcut waif is spreading for both of them too! Was a right bastard as one of the bloody guards Bered was and she's even worse of a shrewish slut now without the cock and balls!"

The insulted figure refused to even look at her accuser. Staring straight ahead at the wall, but there was a hint of motion around her eyes, without the veil Paul was sure he'd see every pained grimace that the jabs inspired. But with it you could almost imagine they weren't there with the distance from his judge's seat.

One of the precious few law educated footmen that Jewel could spare struck the butt of his spear into the old boards of the court's floor.

"Respect the proceedings of this court and chambers or you will be dismissed and fined for contempt and dishonor of the noble lord and count Nádasdy."

The man who had let his anger run away from him paled from the bright red that had flushed his face and dropped fully to his knees. Which was a bit excessive but the intent was something that Paul could appreciate. He winced hard when one knee landed, aggravating where he was obviously injured.

Jewel would want kindness and mercy here, so Paul gave it.

"I will allow that the trespass on home and hearth have left tempers strained, Kaeketeh is in a difficult time for us all. But please keep your words civil. Now continue."

Villiam took a steadying breath and then continued, gesturing to the boy next to him before he began struggling back to his feet.

"My oldest son Róbert De Ros was there when they broke into the store and made to shout alarm and defend our home and property, rousing me and my wife as well! He saw most all of it, whiIe I only was seeing the cowards as they left with my and my wife's property!"

Paul nodded, a witness of the wrongdoing at least simplified the matters.

"Proceed with your witnessing of the events, Róbert De Ros."

The boy threw worried glances at the waif that was half his own height, and Paul saw a crinkle around the eyes and a shift of the face behind the veil that was probably a particularly vicious grin.

Paul tried not to hold that against the accused, a waif's curse very obviously prevented them from even a modicum of restraint in their expressions.

It made them surprisingly good witnesses for court proceedings actually.

"They stole into the shop in the night, broke the door and then tore open the cellar and free'd the villein from 'ere shackles where we been holding them for they been trying to flee from just duties if not watched. When I rushed from my room on the first floor they were already tearing into the door to ma's room and so I fought them with a knife but they beaten me back and then were away in the night with the villein and ma's coffer of silver."

Paul raised a brow at the mention of restraints, and when he looked at the waif Bere he spotted the crinkled eye from a grin of satisfaction. It inspired a desire to groan he had to suppress, In the long days of his role as judge Paul had learned whenever a waif was involved and they began to smile like that it was before they dropped some infuriating counter point.

It was best for all to get whatever pain over and done with there. He gestured to the until now silent accursed.

"The common court has heard the appeal of Villiam De Ros, now in defense I will hear the word of waif Bere."
And then the figure lowered their veil, a smile tinged with obvious hints of mirth and shining glad eyes.

But by the scowl that was fighting to stay hidden on William's face he already knew the word that was going around. A waif unmasked could no more successfully lie than a man under vows to a dozen gods.

"The Villein mentioned is no bondsman to the good, Villiam de Ros!"

There was nothing but a sneer that Bere did not even try to prevent when she spoke her accuser's name. It was a nasty trick some of the former footmen had learned to lean into.

If your face could not lie, why not let every word be brutally honest in tone?

"Not a Bondsman at all in fact! I'll speak plain-faced to you the truth but also do I have the oath from twelve good men of Kaeketeh willing to take a vow on this matter before three gods assured by temple to hold no favor with I or the de Ros family. "
There was a sputter from Villiam but the two footmen that could be spared for Paul's defense in court shifted their grips on their spears.

The glance from Bere at the footmen did not stop her speech.

"I learned of this from a witness of the boasting by the good de Ros, words heard by an associate of his on Peckling street that shared a tavern with him that night in fact."
The grin got all the wider, inhumanly so for how small a waif's mouth normally appeared.

"Well first of all I informed the good de Ros they were trespassing on the subjects and property of our Countess and Shining Wyrm and should release the villein to his labors in the fields outside Kaeketeh. But when such failed well-"

Villiam apparently had enough.

"That's the lies of traitors and scoundrels! This slut of a waif was accursed by the lady Jewel herself for dishonor! Her words are shit on this court's honor!"

Paul really wanted to rub his face but he had to hold the decorum of these proceedings even half of those appealing his judgment were not going too. Still the word of a publicly declared traitor was poorer evidence. Even given the nature of their guileless faces.

There was only one choice.

He yearned to sigh but held the proper decorum for his position. It was going to cost silver (which he was already planning to fine at least one of these parties for) but worst of all it would cost time.

"The order of the court of common law in Kaeketeh is that vows before neutral gods for truth will be made by Villiam De Ros, Róbert De Ros, Waif Bere and her chosen twelve witnesses to ascertain the veracity of this matter in court tomorrow."

And for a moment at least the matter was if not settled, at least forestalled, the appealing parties were directed to the scribe so they could set down both their names and places of residence as well as those of the others that would need to be called forth tomorrow.

Then in the brief respite after they were gone Paul brought his hands up to his face and ground his fingers and knuckles up and down his brow, cheeks and eye sockets.

He needed the break from this madness, to breath and let the facade fall from his face.

Just a moment though.

There were still more cases he had to see to, and now there was a return he would have to meet later after a temple could secure the assured vows of truth for the matter in court!

Paul signaled to the crier to announce the next case.

"The Court of Common Law in Kaeketeh will now see Serlo of Plodin-hounds alley and his accused in Osbert of Dimiliock square as well as Jordan and Waltersson of no residence."

He wondered if this was how his father got those streaks of gray hairs he saw in the paintings.

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

When you try to be absolute in anything, you are absolutely screwed over.