Jeanne noted the voice was younger, much younger than the man who she had dreamt of throttling. It couldn’t be, she thought as she heard his voice, I thought he was dead.
The man turned showing a long scar running down the right side of his face. Facial hair neatly trimmed encircled his mouth. He moved around the desk, each step was one with purpose and control. “Lady Jeanne Marais,” Lord Kolville said to her, “I will admit I did not expect to hear you had returned to our lands any time soon.”
“Cut the shit,” she said sternly. “Where’s the fat bastard who birthed his base born curs?”
“Ah,” Lord Kolville said regretfully, “My father.”
Jeanne felt her blood run cold for a moment as his words sunk in. What disturbed her more was there was no hatred in the response, no defense to his family’s name and honor.
“As you can probably imagine things have changed a little since you left. My father, Eustace the Third, passed and is no longer the lord of these lands. I am Gareth Kolville, current lord and protector of the royal and monastic lands of Teeg-Upon-Avon.”
“Congratulations on the promotion.”
“As you may have heard, after you left following … what happened, my father had taken as many measures to try and bring to justice the woman who stole him of his favorite son. He even tried to use what remained of his ilk to force the information out. Unfortunately, my father learned that seventy villagers tired his kins’ activities is more than enough to handle a meager crew of seven.
“Filled with rage he went to the king and demanded the resistance be treated like sedition, which was granted. However, the local monastery, long opponents to the Kolvilles and their criminal activities, had stepped in and announced the land was their by right of ancient investiture.”
“But they had no legal claim to do so,” Jeanne said.
“No, but it bought the people time. Time to prepare, to arm and ready themselves for a long and bloody war,” Lord Kolville replied. “But then a miracle happened.”
“What?”
“Quite simple, my father died. It seemed the whole situation had been too much for him, and while on the march to quell this revolt, his heart finally gave out.”
“But how did that solve anything? The people were still in a state of revolt and the church was challenging the king.”
“To avoid an issue with the king and the church, both decided that I would be allowed to inherit my father’s station in a cooperative effort with the local monastery. And the people involved, in exchanged for a full pardon, were made to swear fealty to the newly appointed lord.”
“That seems a little too convenient.”
“Normally, yes. But you’d be amazed how lenient some nobles are to situations when spilt blood is not a part of the equation. Or when the most offended party is no longer around to escalate the problem further.”
“And your brothers sat by and watched this happen?”
“At first they were running for their lives as well, and before they could petition the king for a redress of grievances, the king himself died and without a designated heir, led to the wonderful war of succession you’ve now walked into. By this point my brothers decided if they could not win back their former luxuries by direct force, they would court another, bigger friend to help.”
“The war,” Jeanne said softly.
“Exactly, they sided with Empress Adelize and her supporters, and as such King Aethelwulf has put a bounty on the heads of those who have become some of most pronounced thorns in his side. Particularly after they’ve been targeting members of the Court of Exchequer and other government officials.”
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“And what of you?” Jeanne asked. “Last I was here, we all heard you were dead.”
“In a certain point of view, yes. By tradition set by nobles of the ancient line, I was sent to live with my uncle, it was he who raised as his own and molded me into manhood. I used to think it was a curse, being exiled by my own family. Especially when I saw the rift made between myself and my father. But when I grew older, hearing some of the rumors of my brothers roaming the countryside, behaving like animals or worse, I thought they were nothing more than mere innuendos or embellishments of youthful rowdiness. And then I heard of your sister, and what do to young Edmund. That was when I began to wonder if there was actual truth to the stories.”
“It took my sister losing her life to open your damn eyes!” Jeanne hissed.
Gareth let out a heavy sigh. “To my eternal shame, yes. And when I began to see the truth of my father and those I am forced to call brothers,” Gareth folded up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a tattoo of a crook and sword before a flame, “I tried to pay penance for our sins.”
“The mark of the crusades?” Jeanne asked, stunned.
Gareth nodded. “I partook in three crusades, three very long crusades, though to what end in redeeming my family’s name I cannot say, for it is not mine to make. And regardless, the fact is while my kin draw breath, the shame they have wrought and will continue to bring will not end.”
“And this includes me how?”
“The fact is my brothers fear and hate you. You didn’t bow down to their fearmongering. You stood up, fought back, drew blood, and proved to everyone who saw them as terrible gods of chaos, that they could bleed and bleed plenty. You broke their mystique and gave the rest of this town courage and some semblance of true peace.”
“Yet I have a price on my head,” Jeanne replied indignantly.
“For what it’s worth I did not add to the bounty offered.”
“How fucking magnanimous. Didn’t take the damn thing off me.”
“That’s fair,” Gareth said, pulling on his collar. “But, while my brother was a horrible man, and deserved what he received in both your eyes and mine, in the eyes of the royal court, you committed murder, and that can’t be waved away whether I’d want to or not. One of the few injustices reserved for noble blood and not for the rest of our society.”
“So, is it you want with me? I doubt you wanted to bring me here just to converse on local gossip.”
“No, no I did not. The fact of the matter is, while my brothers live they are a threat to the welfare of this town.”
“And their influence on the family name?”
“That is an additional problem, and a weight only I should carry. Because of their association, they’ve put this town at risk of reprisals, raids, if not full and utter destruction.”
“Pray tell?”
“Oh, come now, Lady Jeanne. You’ve been in the mercenary business long enough to know how nobles act when someone earns their ire. For one who ignores the slights and jabs of their enemies, another thousand will act on the first chance to get revenge without a second thought. And we're not wealthy, we could survive a siege for maybe a few months at best. We simply do not have the means to throw our lot into this chaos around us. Compared to most of the other counties, boroughs and fiefs, we’re no bigger than a grain of sand on a beach. The less attention we gain during this whole farce of a contest, the better.”
“So, if your brothers side with someone, then it’d bring more attention to here.”
“And the people here have suffered long enough because of my family. They don’t need these curs making things worse.”
“Then what is it you want me to do?”
Gareth took a long breath, pouring a goblet of wine and taking several gulps before collecting his thoughts. “I need you to bring me their heads. Each and every one of them. If you do that, I will take it as an act of rehabilitation and that can be used to justify the removal of the bounty on you.”
“That’s all well and good, but how do I know this isn’t some ploy to have me do your dirty work, keep your brothers from rivaling your claim here and when I bring their heads, you add mine to the pile?”
“I’ve been informed that you’ve learned several magical incantations.”
“A few, yeah.”
“I’m certain there’s one you can use some invocation to see whether I’m being honest with you.”
Jeanne sneered as she sat down in one of the chairs, her eyes trained on Gareth. “All right, let’s say you’re not playing me for a fool. Let’s say I do this little job for you, you follow through with what you say, no strings attached, no ulterior motives. Why are you doing this? Most noblemen would bend over backwards and risk losing their own souls to keep their kin from seeing a day in court.”
“Let’s make a deal, Lady Jeanne,” Gareth said somberly, “you get this job done for me, and I’ll tell you everything.”