Chapter 7 – Clear Blue Sky #5
The size of the gathering that evening made Remin fairly sure that this was not a town with a guilty conscience.
The people came to the square dressed in their finest, lit lanterns, and generously offered the little food they had to spare after the long winter.
There was no sign of fear among them, and he and his men were careful not to give them reason.
Huber and Juste were at their most charming, the squires behaved themselves, and Jinmin kept out of sight.
The giant knight was alarming under the best circumstances.
As much as he preferred to be in Tresingale, it might be a good idea to visit his other villages, at that. Remin listened gravely to their troubles as Juste sat behind him at a table, scribbling notes. They had indeed been troubled by the devils, and lost seven people before the winter snows fell.
“Most of them from ghouls, while they were in the fields alone,” said Elder Brodrim.
“Two of them were stranglers who crept through windows in the night. And they are growing bolder, Your Grace. Ronze over there, he says he saw a big wolf running through the trees at the end of his north pasture. A very big wolf. Ronze’s not one to exaggerate. ”
Remin did not curse aloud.
“Seems early for that,” was all he said, but in his mind, he was picturing the miles of empty land in Tresingale, where there was no wall.
“Folk don’t go anywhere unarmed, Your Grace,” said the elder. “And the doors are barred after dark.”
Except for tonight, when they had turned out to honor their lord.
“We’re taking many of the same precautions in Tresingale,” Remin said, looking out at the packed square.
He supposed now was as good a time as any to address them.
He hardly needed to signal for silence; as soon as he stood, the crowd quieted.
“We’re as worried about the Andelin devils as you are,” he told them.
“And we’re doing many of the same things.
I can’t promise that we’ll get rid of them in a night, or even a year.
And we can’t wall off your fields. But I will see that you at least have a place to sleep at night where the stranglers can’t get you. ”
Last year, in Tresingale, they slept in the cookhouse and the storehouse, and posted guards. He could at least give them the option of doing the same. Next year, they would have something better.
“That’s very generous, Your Grace,” Elder Brodrim said amid murmurs of agreement. After the terror Valleth had inflicted on the valley, the devils were just one more damned thing. The people of the Andelin were realists. Life was short, hard, and often ended violently.
That left one other bit of business.
Juste had pointed out the girl and her grandfather as soon as they arrived in the square.
The miller and his granddaughter were obviously of Vallethi stock, the girl almost wraithlike with her pale, thin hair and skinny frame.
They claimed not to have any grain to spare for their duke, even at a high price.
Remin had glanced at them from time to time, but avoided staring.
The old man hadn’t a word for anyone else in the square, and there was something off about that girl’s smile.
As much as he hated to ruin the mood, it would be best to deal with it before the wine started flowing.
“There is one other thing that brought me to Ferrede,” he said.
He had already planned what he would say.
He did not want this place to fear him when he left.
“Five days ago, my men dispatched a large group of bandits, over a hundred strong. They were marching to Tresingale. They confessed that they meant to raid it.”
He paused, watching. There was surprise on many faces, discomfort in a few, and anger on two.
“My men would have resisted,” he continued.
“They’re soldiers. They don’t know how to farm as well as you yet, but we have sixty acres planted so far.
We’ve been building homes. I just brought my wife to the valley.
It may be that I will bring her here one day, to see how one of the oldest villages in the Andelin has endured a century of hardship and still prospered. ”
He hoped he wasn’t laying it on too thick, but everyone was nodding; they liked what he was saying. He was making them relate to his men, to his wife, to his fears for her safety. But he also saw puzzlement, because what did this have to do with the people of Ferrede?
“Someone from this village was supplying the bandits with grain.”
The charge hit them like a rockslide. Remin watched, waited, and sure enough, the girl from the mill turned at once as if she meant to slip away. Jinmin was already there.
“You fools.” Elder Brodrim’s voice trembled as he spun, searching the crowd. “Jutte, Tymmon, you foolish old bastard, do you realize what you’ve done? After everything we said? Do you realize what you’ve done to all of—”
“I’m Vallethi, you craven dog!” The miller suddenly roared.
He had a long white beard and was just going stringy with age, and he yanked ineffectually away as two of Remin’s men grabbed him.
“This bastard sweeps the valley clear and the lot of you can’t wait to drop to your knees! Maybe if more of you had—”
Juste shut him up with a hard knock to the head.
Remin was inclined to let the rest of the drama play out, and watch the reactions of the people.
It was clear that there was little support for the miller and his granddaughter.
Every face he could see was frozen in horror, and they drew back from the pair as if they had something catching, clearing a path for Remin’s men.
The girl spun around as Jinmin carried her off, livid, as if all the power and venom in her body were concentrated in her pale eyes.
“The Lord of Tales will be back!” She screeched. That false smile had vanished and now there was only rage. “And he’ll punish you all, he won’t forget who the traitors are! You’re cowards, weaklings, worms!”
Shrieking, she was born away. How old was she? Fifteen? Remin’s stomach twisted, but nothing showed in his hard face. That girl had been barely more than a child when Valleth surrendered. But there were holdouts after any war.
Before him, the townspeople were slowly sinking to their knees. Clutching their children.
“Your Grace.” Elder Brodrim’s voice trembled. “I am sorry. We knew their feelings, and we suspected—but we didn’t think they would go through with it. I thought they had seen sense. It was my error in not reporting it. Please, punish me—”
“Stop.” Remin lifted a hand. “I offered you amnesty once. I will repeat that offer now. If any of you do not wish to live under the Empire of Argence, then you may go, now. My men will escort you to the border, and you will be given coin enough to start you on your way. I swear to the stars in heaven that no harm will come to you if you wish to go. This is the last time I will make this offer.”
He paused, giving them a chance to take him up on it. No one did.
“Then any support for Valleth or further lawlessness will be punished accordingly. You will give me your oath. Now.”
Every single person said it. Even the little ones, kneeling beside their parents and looking around in confusion, but game to play along.
Shrill, piping little voices swearing their loyalty.
Their happiness was gone. They were relieved; they were all but fainting with relief.
Other lords might have swept the square clear, and killed them to the last child.
But Remin knew what it was like to be the last child.
“In return, you have my oath to return loyalty with protection, and trust with trust,” he said.
“I regret that we had to endure such unpleasant business tonight. I will send men to build you a sleeping house safe from stranglers. Elder Brodrim, I will hope to return after the harvest. May our next meeting be under more pleasant circumstances.”
“Y-yes, Your Grace.” The old man stood, slipping his hands into his wide sleeves to hide their trembling.
Great drops of sweat stood out on his bald head, but he gave a good bow all the same.
“I hope…I hope you will bring the Duchess of Andelin so we can offer our hospitality, Your Grace. We will be honored.”
Remin offered them a cordial farewell, but kept it short. He was about to execute two members of their village. Regardless of their guilt, it would be insensitive to linger.
But when he returned to his camp in the hills, he found Jinmin had already beaten him to it.
“That’s them,” said the knight, pointing to the two corpses a short distance outside the camp. The girl’s pale hair was stained red with blood. “Didn’t see any point in delaying.”
“I did not order you to kill them.” Remin’s voice was frigid. The giant knight met his gaze squarely, small brown eyes in a flat brawler’s face. “What if I had wanted to question them?”
“Then I’d say sorry,” said Jinmin. He bowed, his face expressionless. “Meant no disrespect, Your Grace.”
“If I can’t trust you to withhold your sword, then I won’t ask you to draw it.” Remin said it quietly; this was only between the two of them, not a show for the consumption of the camp. “Go.”
Jinmin lumbered away, a small mountain.
Sometimes he thought that Jinmin had only chosen to follow him on a whim all those years ago, and if he hadn’t, then Remin likely would have been obliged to kill him.
They had been together for the entirety of the war and Jinmin had been a loyal and formidable weapon; he had once taken a crossbow bolt intended for Remin, and killed the assassin without so much as a twitch.
But for all that, Remin still felt sometimes that he hadn’t the least idea what was going on in that giant skull.