Michael
Tara didn’t elaborate until they finally reached the privacy of her room where she sat down at a small table and beckoned him to do the same. Her room was surprisingly large for a fortress built with defensiveness in mind and filled with high-quality furniture and pelts. Michael had always wondered why Tara had no siblings and how growing up like that would be, since that fateful day he knew how lonely it could be, and he pitied his cousin.
Michael waited patiently for Tara to get started which didn’t take long. “How much do you know about what has been happening in Grent as a whole?”
“Nothing really. I talked with your father, but he only mentioned the Rangda being a bit more active,” he had to admit. Michael had focused heavily on his own lands and ignored most of everything that was happening in the rest of the kingdom, except for truly important events of course. Now he got the feeling that he might have missed something important after all.
Tara nodded slowly and seemingly resolved herself to explain from the beginning. “Things have not been well since you accused my father of orchestrating the murder of your family, which I still think you are wrong about.”
Michael scoffed at that, the guilt he had seen in his uncle only strengthening his belief that Lord Grim had something to do with what happened. He couldn’t really fault Tara for defending her own father though, especially since no one had found any real evidence of who was responsible for the heinous crime.
He had spent many hours thinking and researching, especially into the strange behavior of the captured assassins. He had theories about that ranging from mind magic over magical blood pacts to some kind of divine curse that prevented them from disclosing anything about their employers or the operation in total. Each of them had their points but also things that made them unusable in this situation, in most cases it narrowed down to finding anyone with the strength and knowledge to do these things where most theories fell apart.
Sadly, none of the captured were still alive, falling either to the strange phenomenon that caused them to bleed out of every orifice of their heads when pushed too hard, dying in the interrogation, or simply suicide.
“Anyways,” Tara continued, “Of course, there were those even in our land that believed in your accusations, they make some sense after all, which led to reduced support from the nobility and unrest among the people. What followed were just a hundred cuts from situations that could have been resolved more cleanly with their full support. Barbarian raids that some interpreted as some kind of divine punishment, monsters becoming more active, and even some unrest in the populous.”
Michael took in the information with a deep frown, he hadn’t expected his accusations to destabilize the region in any form. News normally didn’t travel too fast, especially not to the normal people who rarely left their homes. Michael obviously didn’t know the full extent of the chaos but if enough people believed his uncle to be a kin-slayer then it would make sense.
On the one hand, it was somewhat satisfying for Michael to see his uncle get repercussions for his actions but on the other hand, he wasn’t too happy about having a destabilized neighbor. It was only a good thing if one intended to capitalize on it and Michael was in no position or even willing to take over Grent.
“Okay I understand but why exactly do I deserve the blame for any of this? I still stand firm on my accusation and thus this situation is the result of his own actions from my point of view,” Michael pointed out.
“The only reason that I am talking to you is that you fully believe it to be true. You are not a bad person and if I were in your position I might think the same, but you are simply wrong,” Tara shook her head at him with a sad expression.
“Where is the proof, Tara? I at least have a motive, the chance, and him lying multiple times when questioned. You can’t offer me anything but that you trust in your father’s innocence which is admirable but just not enough.”
“I am not sure that proof exists,” Tara admitted. “Father tried to find the shaman that had given him the prophecy but when he got there, she was already gone with no trace. He tried to track down any information on the assailants and even ran down rumors but there was nothing to find.”
That is quite convenient, Michael thought but held his tongue, there was no reason for him to upset Tara further by rubbing salt in the wound, so he tried to stay diplomatic. “I am sorry, in that case, I will stay with the solution that seems most logical to me.”
“Yeah, we didn’t come here to discuss that anyway. The problems continued, you began clearing out your parts of the Ereic Mountains shortly after taking command and began driving out the monsters and ogres. Most of those that you didn’t slay ventured west and began contesting the territory of monsters in our parts which made them more aggressive in moving into our lands. We began losing men in the emigration that your actions caused. Father was still too busy looking for a way to prove his innocence and didn’t act himself which led to more casualties, even some knights fell to the beasts.
“This caused more dissent in the nobility which festered more and more. After not finding even a trace of what he was looking for my father began to lock himself into his room. He refused to speak to anyone, and his plate always came back nearly untouched. You have seen him, he is barely himself anymore, he is a mess.”
There was little to argue here, Michael hadn’t cared much about where the displaced ogres and monsters ran off to, so he was somewhat at fault for the emigration that brought so much chaos and destruction over his border. He didn’t believe the story about his uncle looking for clues and getting depressed because of that though, it was much more likely that the man had seen his folly and was now depressed because he killed his brother and his family for nothing. It all sounded a little bit like divine retribution when listening to everything that went wrong for him and Michael wondered if his uncle believed that too.
“I had to do something, so I did my best to fill the hole that my father left, organizing the knights, learning to fight and hunt, and going out with the knights to slay beasts. It’s been … difficult. With father depressed and mother being so hopeless that she cries herself to sleep every night …”
Tara stared at her calloused fingers as her voice petered out. Michael remembered that she used to have such smooth skin and always reprimanded him for not taking care of his hands. He gazed at his own hands and smiled slightly at the dots that covered his hands, a reminder of his fight with the dungeon guardian for which she would have scolded him in the past.
We have both been thrust into a position to lead our people long before we were ready or even thinking about having to do it. I wonder what is worse, losing your family in a single day or watching them wither over years with no way of helping them.
“I am sorry Tara. I completely left you alone with this. My animosity toward your father shouldn’t have reflected onto you so badly. I should have stayed in contact at least,” Michael admitted with a guilty expression.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“You should have but this road goes both ways. I was angry at you for a long time until I finally understood the pain of losing your family and the hatred one could feel toward the culprit. Now I understand you better.” Her expression was distant as some kind of weight seemed to fall off her shoulders.
Michael smirked and said, “Let’s just say that you forgiving me is the favor you still owe me.”
Tara looked at him confused before realization hit. “Oh, the tourney, I completely forgot about that. Those were good times. Do you remember when Lira and I cut a hole into your pants so that you walked around the whole day with your buttocks exposed and no one said anything?”
“I remember,” Michael laughed. “I also remember that I was so mad that I spread a rumor that you and Lira were in love with the same servant boy.”
“THAT WAS YOU?” Tara exclaimed scandalized.
“Served you right,” Michael replied, and they continued sharing stories of the happier days.
- The next morning in the Greyhold courtyard -
Michael studied the map that he had been provided, it was surprisingly thorough in the border regions but of course deeper in clan lands it was basically nonexistent.
Around him was a flurry of activity with the knights of House Rowan and Grim preparing for departure. Five knights were joining them together with Lord Grim who looked a little more alive today than he did the day before. Michael guessed that they must have at least three or four more, but no one had given him a straight answer when he asked which was fair. He just hoped that they would be more forthcoming if they had to plan for military action.
“Why can’t I come with you,” Michael heard Tara’s voice from the other side of a group of horses.
“You are too young to be going off into enemy lands,” Lord Grim’s voice answered calmly, a little bit of the authority that Michael remembered of the lord in his voice.
“Michael is the same age as me and I have been taking care of everything around here for over a year,” she argued.
“I already said that I do not approve of him coming along but contrary to you I do not have the right to order him around, do I?”
Michael smirked at the exchange, it remembering him of arguments between him or his siblings with their father. It took only a moment before the amusement turned into a cold stab in his heart at the memories. He sighed and thought, I wish I could just be happy about the memories I shared with them.
Tara huffed and Michael could hear her stomping away before her father rounded the horses and spotted Michael.
“We should be about ready to leave. It should be about two days' travel to reach the planned campsite,” he explained after stepping over to Michael.
Michael nodded, they would move together and once they settled into their main camp split into groups to scout different points of interest and try to ascertain the scope of the approaching danger.
The journey wasn’t much to talk about, the roads toward clan land were even worse than the rest of Grent’s infrastructure, being more of a forest path than real roads, but nothing dared to approach them. They didn’t expect trouble either with the number of knights in their group.
Michael spent a lot of time inspecting the surroundings, these forests weren’t much different than those in Emall due to their proximity and he might spot something useful here that was also there. As he did so he noticed more and more that his uncle seemed more alive, but his aura echoed in nostalgia that Michael could only guess the source of.
After two days they reached the general area where they wanted to make camp. It was already in clan territory, but Sir Helbrect assured them that the clans wouldn’t be this close to the border this time of year.
They made camp in the shadow of a rocky cliff that stood five meters tall. It protected them from three sides being crescent-shaped but forced them to be cramped together a bit with only one fire in the middle.
Most of the knights not on guard duty had gathered around the fire. There was a lot of tension between the knights of Rowan and Grim but due to the polite manner in which Michael and his uncle had interacted with each other, they weren’t overly hostile.
Michael didn’t join them, rather staying in his tent studying the map to prepare for the mission on the next day but due to his enhanced hearing, he was able to listen to the conversations around the fire even if he didn’t pay close attention.
“That armor your lord is wearing is quite impressive, and so are your weapons,” one of the knights of House Grim noted.
“Indeed, we heard of the dwarven craftsmen you managed to employ, that was a good move,” another agreed.
“It is not only that but also the mines that give us the resources to make all these artifacts, without them we couldn’t make nearly as much,” a young knight answered proudly but Michael could basically feel the disapproval and harsh looks he got from the other knights for his comment.
“You could rival the Kingsguard with your equipment that much is for sure.” That was Lord Grim’s voice. “It reminds me of a ruined keep my father and his band of adventurers explored a long time ago. We found records which said that back in the past whole armies were outfitted from head to toe in magical gear.”
“Right, you were an adventurer before becoming nobility, milord?” Erhen asked.
“Yes, I was. My brother and I, together with our father, uncle, and some of their mates. Later Cedric and I joined the late King Johann Merland when my uncle killed my father over some artifa …”
Silence fell heavily on the campsite as the count stopped abruptly for over a minute before the sound of tent cloth broke it and Michael appeared out of his tent with a hard expression on his face. Anger was boiling in him that he could barely contain. It was so hard to control himself lately, Sola had pointed to puberty for his worsening self-control while Geron had called it ‘being pissed off by stupid people’.
“Why don’t you continue telling us the story of how one brother stabbed the other in the back over power, seems like we could learn something from that,” Michael sneered.
The knights avoided his gaze even those of House Grim as waves of mana echoed from Michael’s tumultuous mana well. His huge reserves were nearly visible right now as they vibrated with his emotions.
Lord Grim on the other hand was looking straight at him with the same depressed expression that he had worn in their first meeting. It didn’t make Michael feel bad for him though, but only fanned the fire from anger to fury.
“What kind of a joke is this?” Michael yelled. “Why are you looking like a kicked puppy?”
He didn’t get an answer, but he could see the emotions rising in the knights of Grim as they gritted their teeth and Sir Helbrect had to put his hand on the arm of another to stop him from jumping up.
Michael scoffed and turned around to stomp off into the dark when he heard steps behind following him.
“Michael,” came the weak voice of his uncle.
He spun around before Lord Grim could say anything else and simply unloaded on him, “How is it that you are falling to pieces while I have to stay strong?! What kind of a cruel joke is it that I have to push through the pain while you, the cause of it, can wallow in your guilt and self-pity?! I don’t know what makes me hate you more, that you destroyed my family or that you are destroying your own because you can’t live with yourself!”
Duncan Grim stood there and looked at Michael, one of the two remaining sons of his brother but he couldn’t seem to find his words. Was that pity in his eyes that Michael saw? Was he pitying him?
“SAY SOMETHING FOR IDAS’ SAKE,” Michael screamed, and his voice broke a little bit.
A weak sigh escaped Lord Grim’s lips, and he finally spoke, “I didn’t do it. But if hating me makes you go on and live then I will take all that hate. You can hate me all you want but nothing will change the fact that you are my brother’s son, the one thing I have left of him, and I love you.”
The words hit Michael like hammer strikes. How dare he, Michael thought as his rational thoughts were muddied by his flaring emotions. Am I wrong? Have I been wrong this whole time? No, he is trying to manipulate me. I can’t be wrong because if I were then …
Michael couldn’t formulate a rational thought right now. He didn’t want to doubt himself; he hated the thought of being manipulated, but was he wrong? He always depended on his own mind but also on the competence of others, was it really manipulation if his uncle told the truth? There was sincerity behind the layers of grief and regret, but he had lied before.
His anger was urging him to scream to rage to do something that would hurt his uncle. His rational mind was doubting itself which added to the confusion as it tried to argue with itself about what to believe. In the end, something pushed his anger over the edge and a hard expression fell on Michael’s face.
“What happened to your uncle after he killed your father,” Michael asked, his voice as cold as ice.
It took a few moments of confusion for Lord Grim to answer, “Cedric killed him.”
“Maybe we do have something to learn from history after all,” Michael spat at his uncle, the words stabbing like knives.
With those words Michael turned away and stomped into the darkness, leaving a frozen count and a bunch of speechless knights.