The Butcher

60th Day of Harvest

766 Karloman’s Peace

“Svanhildr!” Vedast's voice boomed through the corridors of the chaotic labyrinthine house. “Svanhildr, where are you? You’ll never believe who is here.”

There was no response.

At the rear of the butcher’s shop was a home where Vedast and his family lived. He welcomed the Reubkes into a small receiving room and ushered them to take their places around a low table that ringed a central fire pit. Hemp cushions filled with straw were laid out plentifully, providing more than enough room for each member of the Reubke party to sit comfortably.

“Gods be damned woman, where are you!” Vedast bellowed through the opening of another corridor at the back of the room. “Svani!” he shouted so loudly that veins along the side of his throat began to bulge, and Ekkehard could imagine the building's timbers vibrating.

“What!” a scream replied.

“Get in here; we have company!” Vedast roared back.

Pleasantries had already been exchanged between the Reubkes and Vedast. Dreux had, more honestly than Ekkehard would have liked, summarized the tale of how they had come to be in the city of Werth. Vedast had left his workers to tend to the cutting room, and only the ugly man had followed the group into the living area.

“Anything you need me for, boss?” the ugly man asked.

“What?” Vedast said, turning to the man. “Oh, no, thank you Alfa, that will be all. Man the door, as always.”

Alfa nodded and left.

“Man the door?” Dreux echoed his brother curiously. “Is something going on, brother?”

“That can wait,” Vedast replied, waving off the question with one hand. “Let's focus on getting you and your friends fed first; we can talk later. Pyra!” Vedast exclaimed at a young girl who entered the room.

She was around Gerwald’s age, pretty enough, with long, straight black hair that stood out against her pale, northern skin. She wore a pale blue dress, which Ekkehard noted appeared to be made of cotton and was far finer than the clothing worn by Vedast.

“Where is your mother?” Vedast asked the girl.

“She says she is busy counting and to entertain your friends yourself,” the young girl spoke in the inconvenienced tone that only a daughter could when speaking to her father.

Vedast sighed and shook his head. “Well, go tell her your uncle is here and see what she says about that.”

“Uncle Dreux?” Pyra asked. She looked around the room until she spotted Dreux sitting between Gerwald and Gisla. He waved and smiled, and she beamed. “Uncle!” she shouted, “It’s been ages.”

“We know that,” Vedast said, cutting the girl off before she could say any more. “Now do as I say and go get your mother.”

He ushered his daughter out of the room.

“Right!” Vedast bellowed, turning back to the group. He slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “Wine, I think,” he said to himself, “hot and spiced.”

“That would be most welcome,” Ekkehard said to his host, smiling warmly to show genuine appreciation. Even though Dreux had vouched for the Reubkes, Ekkehard expected Vedast would still be weighing them up. He needed Vedast to like him and his family; otherwise, they would have nowhere to go. So, he made the effort to befriend the man.

“I will be fine with tea,” Auriana said softly. “As would Gisla.”

“I’d rather the wine,” Gisla interjected solemnly.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Audomar said sternly, staring his younger sister down. Gisla visibly shrank from the eldest Reubke’s gaze.

Ekkehard recalled the sullen expression Gisla had worn as they travelled through the city, and his silent promise to raise her spirits.

“Perhaps,” Ekkehard said to his elder brother, “she will be fine with one cup. We could all use at least one cup.” Audomar glared at Ekkehard but did not challenge him. After a moment, the eldest Reubke nodded in acquiescence to the new head of the family.

From the corner of Ekkehard's eye, he noticed Gisla sit up a little straighter and lean a little further forward in her seat. He smiled to himself.

“Very good,” Vedast said, “wines all around then.” He disappeared through another of the room's many doors to fetch the refreshments.

A few moments later, Pyra returned, followed by an older woman. Although clearly not of noble blood, the woman exuded a regal and authoritative presence. Her face was angular, maintaining a youthful appearance, and she held her chin upraised. She wore a thick gown of fine black wool with yellow fur cuffs lining its edges. Intricate floral brocades in bright greens and reds were woven across the gown.

As she entered the room, she stood before the seated Reubkes, her eyes scanning them until she spotted her brother-in-law.

“Dreux, my dear,” she said, smiling, “how lovely to see you again.”

“And to see you too, Svani,” Dreux replied, getting to his feet and hugging her.

“Who are your friends?” she asked after releasing him.

“Nobles,” Vedast answered as he returned, carrying a wooden tray with several small clay cups filled with steaming hot wine the colour of rich garnet. He took a seat at the table, rested the tray upon it, and began to pass the cups around.

“Nobles?” Svanhildr repeated.

“Yes,” Dreux answered. “These are the Reubkes. They have been very kind to me.”

“Well then,” Svanhildr replied, slightly flustered, “I’d best get you all something to eat. And you, husband,” she turned her attention to Vedast, “had best get out of those rags and into something more discerning.” Her eyes went wide as she spoke to her husband, who rolled his in reply, but obeyed nonetheless.

Ekkehard felt a sudden overwhelming sense of comfort in witnessing such a mundane and familiar exchange. He looked to Auriana at his side. He allowed himself the luxury of envisioning them sharing such a normal exchange again. It was the first time in a long time he had been able to imagine such a life for the two of them.

In that fleeting moment, he transcended the walls of Vedast's dwelling, finding himself in a sun-dappled garden, cradled by the shade of the cherry blossom tree. Across from him sat his wife, her dirty hemp robe burned away and transformed into a thin silk gown in the colours of sky blue and ivory dawn, with hidden floral silhouettes dancing within the weave. Her face, once simply soft, now appeared as a canvas of life newly birthed, touched by the essence of blooming. From the overhead canopy, petals descended like whispered secrets, settling into the golden tapestry of her hair.

He smiled at her. She looked back at him. He fell into the pale blue ocean of her eyes.

“What?” his wife asked softly, whispering so others wouldn't hear. He didn’t hear her at first.

“What?” she asked more loudly, snapping him from his trance.

“Nothing,” Ekkehard answered. A cup of hot wine made its way around the table to him. He took a sip, feeling its warmth build in his chest. He smiled at his wife once more and said, “Nothing at all.”

Vedast kept their wine cups filled and provided small dishes of appetizers. Pickled cabbage, salted turnips, and cucumber slices marinated in sesame oil, vinegar, and various spices were presented to Ekkehard and the other Reubkes. Each devoured the food, having not had such a variety of flavourful cuisine in what felt like a lifetime.

Meanwhile, Svanhildr was occupied preparing the main course, a medley of stir-fried meats braised in a savoury sauce enriched with sugar and honey. This delectable dish was served atop a bed of fragrant rice, stir-fried in oyster sauce, and seasoned with a blend of ginger, garlic, and wine. To add a touch of freshness and colour, she garnished it with a sprinkling of fresh herbs. Gerwald's eyes welled up when the meal was presented to him, and Pyra cooed over his reaction.

As they ate, Dreux reiterated the tale of their journey. This time, he went into greater detail and was even more honest, sparing his family little of the tragedy. Each of the Reubkes, except for Audomar, contributed their own variations or personalized anecdotes. Some details were either missed by Ekkehard or imagined by a companion.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Ekkehard's own contributions were few, often simply clarifying facts but mainly downplaying Dreux’s many theatrical embellishments.

“Did you also have to fight these fiends?” Pyra asked Gerwald, looking at the boy doe-eyed, resting one hand on his thigh and leaning in toward him. Svanhildr, who was busy serving post-meal refreshments of tea alongside slices of orange, melon, and ginger, accompanied by small bowls of almonds and walnuts, gave her daughter a rebuking glare.

The young woman ignored it.

“You must be very brave,” she continued, fawning over Gerwald.

Gerwald blushed and said, “Well, I guess I am.”

Ekkehard was glad to be reminded of his brother’s inexperienced youth. There was a wholesomeness to the mundanity that Ekkehard had sorely missed.

“Well, I don’t know who this Hanib fella is,” Svanhildr said, “but I know what I’d do with him if I ever met him. Or at least,” she said, pausing and looking toward Gerwald, “I know what I’d have my husband do to that kind of man.”

“What’s that?” Gerwald asked, the wine having made him oblivious to the not-so-subtle warning in Pyra’s mother’s tone.

“I find castration usually works,” Vedast said, beaming a broad smile toward Gerwald.

“What?” Gerwald asked, frantically looking around at his brothers. “You’d cut those off a man?”

“Aye,” Vedast answered. “I’ve had to employ such methods before. It’s very effective.”

“On who?” Gerwald asked. “Bad customers?”

“No, not at all,” Vedast said gleefully, smiling even wider as he leaned over his wife and daughter to get closer to Gerwald. “Just on little brats who get too familiar with my daughter.”

“Oh,” Gerwald said, his eyes going wide as the insinuation finally dawned on him. He shuffled a little further away from Pyra. Everyone at the table laughed, all except Gerwald and Pyra, the latter shooting hateful daggers at her father, the girl’s face turning bright red.

“Speaking of customers,” Florentin said as the laughter died down, “Dreux tells us you're more than a mere butcher; you’re a loan shark by trade.”

Florentin’s usual social graces seemed to have been misplaced in his wine cup, and the atmosphere of the room shifted in response to his clumsy question. Svanhildr's expression turned to one of fury as she glared at her brother-in-law and then at her husband. Vedast, however, maintained a cold expression of theatrical neutrality. The shift in his demeanour gave him an aura that made Ekkehard uneasy. Ekkehard noted that Dreux had hung his head, his usual jovial expression gone.

What unnerved Ekkehard the most, however, was Pyra.

The girl must have recognized the tension and had begun to shift uncomfortably away from Gerwald and toward the safety of her mother. Ekkehard was sure that was the action of someone used to witnessing violent outbursts from her father. That told him he needed to choose his words carefully.

“He said that did he?” Vedast asked, examining Dreux from the corner of his eye before turning not to Florentin, but to Ekkehard.

“Usurers,” Audomar said in a venomous, slurred tone. The eldest Reubke was also somewhat drunk, drunk enough that any effort to hide the disdain in his voice had been lost.

Ekkehard threw the contents of his cup at his elder brother and made an exaggerated sigh. Audomar looked startled by the act and began to rise, but Ekkehard’s glare commanded him back to his seat.

“What my brother is trying to say,” Ekkehard began, looking from Audomar to Vedast, “is that when Dreux kindly extended an offer of shelter to us, he also mentioned that you might be able to provide us with work. I think my younger brother here was trying to broach the subject. Clumsily, however, and I apologize for that.”

Ekkehard and Vedast held each other's gaze.

This was not how Ekkehard had wanted to raise this issue, but his hands were tied now. As friendly as Vedast appeared, Ekkehard had already concluded that the man was dangerous. Diplomacy was key, and judging from his brothers’ attempts so far, it was down to Ekkehard to navigate this situation.

Ekkehard watched Vedast’s contemplative features as he mulled over Ekkehard’s words. He couldn't guess what thoughts were moving through the man’s head, but it was clear from Dreux’s shrinking presence that he had less influence with his brother than presented and would be no help in the coming negotiation. Vedast needed further persuasion.

“Dreux said such work would entail supporting your more charitable endeavours,” Ekkehard began. “Godly endeavours that see you provide much-needed financial aid to the good people of Werth. He presents you as a paragon of this city.”

“Really now?” Vedast responded coyly. “And you’re in the market for such work, are you, friend Ekkehard?”

“I think you can tell from my brother’s outburst that we are not only in the market but eager as well,” Ekkehard said. “I think a preliminary discussion to ascertain what mutual benefits might be exchanged in such an arrangement is warranted.”

“Well,” Vedast said, leaning back in his chair, “perhaps such a discussion could be possible.”

He paused again, deliberating, before he smiled once more, slapped his knees with his hands, and shouted, “But that kind of talk isn’t for the dinner table. Come, let us get you settled into some rooms, and we can talk business later.”

Suddenly, the calculating predator before Ekkehard was gone; the welcoming host returned.

“Pyra,” Vedast said, turning to his own family, “go ahead and set up some bedding for young Gisla in your room, why don't you? Svanhildr, prepare the cubby for Masters Gerwald and Florentin. Audomar,” he said, turning to the eldest Reubke, “apologies, you will have to bunk with Dreux. Friend Ekkehard, I invite you and your lady wife to stay in the guest room; it is already prepared. I will show you the way.”

Vedast got to his feet, and everyone else followed suit.

The butcher’s family began to lead the different members of the Reubke family to their various places of rest. “And don’t forget there is a hot bath at the back of the house,” Vedast bellowed as he led Ekkehard and Auriana down one of the uneven corridors. “In case anyone wants to wash away that road stink!”

Each member of the Reubke family was shown to their rooms and provided fresh clothes by their hosts. Some of Ekkehard’s siblings took short naps to sleep off the effects of the wine, while others preferred to bathe. Auriana fetched Gisla and assisted Svanhildr and Pyra in clearing and cleaning the aftermath of dinner.

Hours later, as the sun began to set, there was a knock on the door of Ekkehard’s room. Audomar and Dreux were waiting on the other side.

“My brother says it’s time to talk,” Dreux said. Ekkehard indicated for the man to lead the way.

Ekkehard and Audomar followed Dreux to a small, windowless office positioned awkwardly in the middle of the house at the top of a short flight of stairs. The simple room was lit by four painted gourd-shaped oil lamps, each depicting fishermen catching carp and koi fish. The lamps, resting on tripod stands about chest height with legs crossing in the middle, provided enough light to read by, but cast flickering shadows, forcing Ekkehard to squint.

A large glossy desk made of fine lacquered sandalwood with deep crimson hues dominated the room. Its brobdingnagian size clashed with the room's dimensions. Despite its simplicity, with few decorations and no carvings or etchings, it was clearly of rare quality, sturdily made, polished, and buffed to perfection. A chair of matching design accompanied the desk.

At the back of the room, two tall backless bookshelves rested against the wall, with a third shorter bookshelf bridging the gap between them, creating a shelf behind the desk. Above it hung an intricately painted scroll, unfurled to reveal a majestic landscape of an expansive forest with garnet and amber leaves. A cluster of leaves swirled in the wind to form the outline of a bearded man's contemplative features.

Before the desk sat a low square table; a small potted white-leaved orchid rested at its centre, with cushions laid out on either side.

Vedast was already sitting at his desk when the two Reubke brothers arrived. As they entered, Dreux walked to the far side of the room, taking his place at Vedast's right hand. To Vedast's left stood a third man, Alfa, the ugly man who had guarded the entrance to Vedast's shop.

Ekkehard couldn't shake the sensation of being judged.

"Friend Ekkehard, friend Audomar," Vedast welcomed them in a more monotone voice than he had previously used, "I think it's time we talked."

"Yes, and if you don't mind," Ekkehard replied, "I would first like to apologize for my brother's poor comments during dinner. Your family has been most gracious, and we shouldn't have displayed such a lack of tact. I assure you no offense..."

Vedast raised a hand, compelling Ekkehard to silence.

"Never mind that," Vedast said. "Dreux has already explained everything." Vedast glared back over his shoulder at his brother. Dreux kept his eyes facing forward as he stood sentinel. "I don’t see anything worth being offended over, so forget all about it."

"That is most kind of you," Ekkehard replied, "and a great relief to me."

"I'm quite sure," Vedast said, moving on. "Anyway, as I said, I have been speaking with my brother, and the story he tells is of great interest to me."

Ekkehard and Audomar exchanged looks of both concern and intrigue. "How so?" Audomar asked.

The butcher leaned back in his chair, rested his hands on his belly, and inhaled. “Dreux tells me you two fought in the Merchant’s Rebellion, is that right?” Vedast asked after a moment's thought.

“That’s correct,” Ekkehard answered, shooting Dreux an inquisitive look. “We were both junior officers. Audomar began as a Deputy Reiter in a scout Sippe, then served as Watchmaster for a Schar and ended the war as First Deputy in a Vanguard Hort. I spent the war as Second Deputy in a Schar.”

“You served in the same Cohort?” Vedast asked.

“Not always,” Ekkehard replied, swallowing the bitterness this recollection brought him, “but for most of the war, yes.”

“So, I am right in assuming you both know a little something about discipline and strategy?” Vedast asked.

“We do,” Audomar answered.

“Good, good,” Vedast said, nodding along and taking another moment of contemplation.

“Before we get into this,” Ekkehard said, narrowing his eyes as he examined Vedast’s expression, “I want to make it very clear what we are, and what we are not, offering.”

“Go on,” Vedast replied, gesturing openly with one hand.

“Gerwald and Florentin,” Ekkehard began, “they are both young. I don't want them involved with anything that might bring the guards' attention. You understand? The same goes for Gisla and my wife. They do nothing that breaks any laws. It's me and Audomar you're getting. The two of us will do whatever work you need, but that is all.”

“Fine,” Vedast said, waving the comment away. “It’s only you two I am interested in anyway.”

“Okay then,” Ekkehard said, looking toward Audomar, who nodded his support. “Tell us what you need.”

“Soldiers,” Vedast revealed.

“Explain?” Audomar said, half inquiring, half demanding.

“There is a man,” Alfa, the ugly man, spoke for the first time, and Vedast allowed his interruption, “a man called Haraldr. We need him gone.”

Ekkehard's eyes shifted from Vedast to Alfa and back. “We are not assassins,” Ekkehard clarified.

“An assassin would be useful, but I’m not sure one could reach Haraldr,” Vedast replied. “Alfa, tell them the full story.”

Alfa bowed his head and explained, “Haraldr is a competitor of sorts and a former mercenary who recently settled in the city. He has risen to prominence with speed and been causing us all kinds of trouble.”

“You could say he’s stealing clients,” Dreux interjected, his chastisement now sufficiently past that he felt comfortable speaking again.

“And what exactly is the issue there?” Ekkehard asked. “Surely you always have such competitors in this line of business”

“Competitors I have no issues with. It’s part and parcel of the trade. It’s the way he is stealing them,” Vedast added. “It is most distasteful, and I won’t abide it. Not in my city.”

“He is paying off our clients’ debts,” Alfa expanded, “in full.”

“So what?” Audomar asked, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Because he pays off their debts to us,” Vedast explained, “by allowing our clients to sell themselves into slavery to him.”

Ekkehard and Audomar looked to one another.

“Alright,” Audomar said, “tell us everything.”