Chapter 6 The Ultimatum #3
“But he doesn’t!” Gueldefore snapped, and it was as if he’d slapped everyone upside the head.
Even Hugh stiffened. “He doesn’t know the pain he’s caused.
I doubt he’ll ever understand it. The families of those who died will want his death.
They’ll want to know they got their vengeance.
Reparations are deserved, and we will revel in witnessing his blood wet our crop and be of use to us in his last hours. ”
A heavy quiet swallowed the room at the weight of the words. Morfran blinked. “I’m sorry, but are…are you saying you want to water your garden with my blood?” That was horrific. And unsanitary.
Gueldefore raised his majestic butt chin. Perhaps the man merely intended to be poetic, but after such a speech, both he and Morfran recognized he couldn’t backtrack now.
So he doubled down. “Your death will bring us abundance after we sever your arms and head from your body.”
Morfran nodded minutely, registering this. Then he announced to everyone else, “I request to be hanged.”
In the midst of numerous cries arising for how, specifically, he should die, it was Brim who managed to wrestle over the conversation as he waded into the center of the room.
“He’ll not be hanged, quartered, curb-stomped, beaten over the head with a coined-stuffed sock, or killed in any other offensive manner.
” Standing at his full height, he was like a weathered, stout obelisk that’d seen the test of time.
“Nor will he be hurt.” He tossed a cutting look at those who’d seemed eager, including Gueldefore, who merely frowned.
“Never before have we had someone like him in our company. This calls for a different kind of action.”
There was another shift in the room. Morfran noticed it at once.
Brim wasn’t simply a leader of these forest dwellers, he realized; he was their moon.
He controlled the tides and the way the waters moved, and Morfran already saw how the men yielded to him and regarded him with high respect.
Even Gueldefore, who shone like a bright star, couldn’t compete with the moon’s light when it was at its fullest.
Interesting, Morfran noted. Not many peasants he knew could silence a room with a few simple words. Then again, most peasants he was in the presence of ultimately ended up headless shortly after, so what did he know?
“What is your name?” Brim demanded from him.
Morfran suddenly felt the weight of dozens of eyes on him, and although he was used to the attention, for some reason he began sweating now. He cleared his throat, trying to inconspicuously sit up taller. “Eh. Bernard.”
Brim smiled, though it never reached his eyes. It was more as if Brim had connived a suiting punishment for him, one he knew Morfran wouldn’t appreciate.
“We’ve been preparing for our kingdom-wide assault on Lord Morfran and his men for years,” the burly man began, facing everyone in the room.
“With Gueldefore’s help, we managed to secure a mass shipment of weapons that will prove most useful in our fight.
” Gueldefore, despite losing momentum earlier, puffed up his chest when cheers arose his way.
“In the past Bronwen helped whittle away at their numbers and interfered with their war camps.” He gestured at his daughter, who seemed to shrink when all she received was cricket silence and rolled eyes.
“And we’ve all worked tirelessly in order to build up a rebellion that will be effective in stomping out that infestation known as Morfran’s men. ”
Many in the room leapt to their feet at this, cheering and hooting and thrusting their fists in the air.
“Now, we’ve all heard the rumors about Lord Morfran.
That he’s holed himself up in his castle for reasons unknown and doesn’t come out for anything.
Whether that’s because he’s sick or dying or perhaps not even there, it’s the timing that I find beneficial.
We’ve spent years gathering supplies and men, but what we’ve needed and been searching for is a skilled battle strategist.”
Brim grinned, gesturing at Morfran. “The gods have put this man in our path. And this man, Bernard, happened to be a general of our greatest enemy. To become a general is not an easy thing, either. You must have intelligence, battle wit, and the willingness to die with your men. And with that same intelligence, he’s razed villages and stolen land and murdered innocents.
” He paused, and Morfran unconsciously began shaking his head, ever so slowly, because he’d spotted that stupid sparkle in the man’s eyes that spelled mischief.
“Bernard’s done all this in Lord Morfran’s name.
I believe the gods have placed him here, now, because it is time.
” He paused for theatrical effect. “It is time to march on the kingdom and reclaim our lands. And as it is befitting, Bernard here will be the one to help us reclaim them. And not just to reclaim, but to avenge those who’ve been murdered, using the same smarts and battle savvy he used for Lord Morfran and his venomous queen, Ravana. ”
Morfran was clawing his fingernails against the broth bowl, stiff as bone, as the entire room erupted into cheers.
“And when we have made ourselves a worthy threat”—Brim was outwardly grinning now, eyes glinting with something akin to madness—“Bernard will help us take Castle Atrago in Warshire and kill Lord Morfran and Lady Ravana himself.”