Jeanne sat in front of the flames crackling in the fireplace back at the manor. She sat in a chair, slump forward, staring into the flames silently lost in a maelstrom of woeful thoughts. She ran her fingers through her hair, letting out a heavy sigh, trying not to break down into tears once more. She felt her chest tightening up as she thought back to the small child and the burials earlier in the day.
She tried to find some semblance of comfort in the situation, but nothing came to her. There was the faint thought of finding Guthrum and putting him down, but what good would it do? He may not have the chance to find and harm another soul, but the child was dead. His own child, his flesh and blood. He murdered the child with a barbarity she had only seen at the end of sieges when the besiegers laid waste to the city, putting many to the sword without a thought to those harmed.
Jeanne thought back those years, wondered when her blade and wrath struck down those whose fates were unjustly wrought. Perhaps this was some form of justice being brought out on her, to see the pain she inflicted on others, and feel their pain intimately. Maybe this was some penance for a sin she had committed so long ago that the faintest of memories had long since gone away.
Looking out of the window she saw the night sky still covering the world and rose from her seat to get some air. The echoes of her footsteps bounced lightly off the walls as she made her way down. Reaching the entrance of the manor, she leaned back against the doorframe. Looking up at the stars and wonder if Sabine could see any of this? Was she free from the all this turmoil and woes, soaring the heavens above? Or was she stuck here, unable to leave the bounds of this world even now?
Then there was Denin. She had known the boy for only a short while. Hardly more than a few hours. Yet thinking of him tore at his heart more than the horrors of the worst battles she had survived. She began choking up remember how the poor thing was found in the forest, brained against a tree and left alone, without any marker to his name. Even the other three were grouped together when they fell.
“Rough night,” she heard The Stranger say to her, leaning against the other side of the doorframe.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Your doctor friend has an interesting way of getting information.”
“He’s probably vomiting up a lung from doing it, too.”
“What are your thoughts?”
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“With Judith?”
The Stranger nodded. “Do you think it was right?”
Jeanne shrugged. “Right now, I honestly don’t know. Part of me thinks it was. Part of me is wondering how did we come to needing torture to get this done.”
“I thought you knew a spell to compel someone to speak the truth?” The Stranger asked.
“It helps when the person doesn’t know that one’s been cast. And … I wanted her to hurt. I wanted her to hurt badly.”
“And you think that’s how you achieve justice for the victims? By breaking someone who think is holding such information?”
“If you want me to go into some philosophical discourse about this, I’m in no mood. That woman had information we needed, and ever since we’ve dealt with her she was giving us some trouble or another. Was there a nice way to get that information, maybe. Did we have the luxury of time to get it, no. Did I enjoy watching her squirm and finally get what she had coming, you can bet your ass I did. She let two monster ravage the countryside and didn’t give a shit about the victims. Where’s the justice for them! Where’s the justice for the people who she could’ve save? And even if we get Guthrum, she’ll never see a day before whoever becomes the king here to answer for what she did. Would it be better for it to be done through the courts, maybe, I’m not a damned lawyer. But as far as I’m concerned, the woman got what she deserved.”
The Stranger pulled back at the response. “Don’t hold back, Lady Marais.”
“I am just sick of these people letting brigands do their worst and not pay some price for their actions. A child is dead. Where’s the justice for him? That woman showed her care for him, looking at him as nothing more than a half-bred dog. Now … now he’s gone before he had a chance to experience the world. Where’s the justice in that?”
“Well, I’m surprised you were as restrained as you were with the reeve.”
“Really, restrained?”
“I thought you would’ve ended the reeve after her comment.”
Jeanne shook her head. “Damn I was tempted, and that’s putting it lightly.”
“Why didn’t you, then?”
“Because it wouldn’t have brought Denin or the others back. It wouldn’t have done anything to help us in what we’re doing. And … this isn’t about me anymore. This is about stopping these curs now, before anyone else winds up going through this. And as much as I wanted to put that bitch in the dirt. Killing her won’t end this. But tonight might make her see past her arrogance and perhaps do her damn job.”
“I think she’s going to have more than a few things to consider when the morning comes,” The Stranger said, moving away from the doorframe and towards the road. “Be weary, good Marais. The road ahead will be fraught with many more challenges before you’re done here. Many difficult choices to make, that you will need to live with, for good or ill.”
“I figured this mess is far from over,” Jeanne said looking out into the woods.
“Oh, this isn’t even the beginning of the deluge. And many will see a spring of blood before the coming winter. But as a man I knew once said, ‘The cold born sorrow will melt in the warm sun, if one does not forsaken themselves from the light.’”
“Who said that?” Jeanne asked, letting out a heavy sigh before looking up, seeing The Stranger had vanished. “I need to stop being surprised by that,” she said to herself.