02.41: Aftermath — 2

I turned to face the Baron.

“You understand the massive advantage heliographs give an army,” I said, “and yet expect me to hand them to someone who was hostile to me during our first meeting?”

“That wasn’t our first meeting,” he replied calmly, “and you introduced yourself as the new Count with a veiled threat.”

My brows furrowed.

Right. The executions.

Reshma did warn me they would not be remembered kindly.

“My memory had large holes, Baron. I didn’t remember any of our previous meetings. All of you had lost men at my hands in the Battle of the Bog. If I didn’t have your love, I at least wanted your fear.”

“It worked,” he said, chuckling. “You had our fear.”

Then he went down to one knee.

Right there in the dirt.

“But now you have my loyalty.”

He looked me in the eyes.

“Wulfsden stands with you, my lord. We owe you a debt for wiping our shame.”

“Please, Baron,” I quickly whispered, “get up.”

As he slowly got up, a smile crept up his face. “You have indeed changed. I met you a few times when you were younger. You were much more carefree back then.”

I kept my expression neutral.

Do I need to worry about him discovering my identity as well? Why couldn’t have Jack been a social recluse like me?

“I am not against giving the heliographs to you, Baron, but I am worried about our enemies getting their hands on them. My father was colluding with agents of Zoran. A group of fifty ‘bandits’ attacked my convoy on the way to Her Majesty in these lands.”

“That is… unusual. Would your father have that much influence, this far from the court?”

“He was after the document I had and was connected to it one way or another.”

“I am glad we have a better Count now.”

He placed a fist over his heart. “I give you my word, the devices will be given only to the men I trust completely. Anyone caught stealing them would be hanged.”

I studied him before weighing the risk.

Civilization is built on trust.

That was an undeniable fact, no matter how much I struggled with trust myself.

I took a long breath.

“Fine. Send me the men and I will have them trained.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

He gestured toward a small house nearby.

“Now, the unpleasant matter of my nephew.”

We entered the house.

Inside, Odrik sat tied to a chair, head lolling against ropes.

His face was swollen and bruised, one eye nearly shut. His lips encrusted with blood. Each breath rattled faintly in his chest.

Time for the good cop routine.

I looked at the Baron’s older son. “What did he reveal?”

Wigmar folded his arms.

“He claims to know nothing about Ironfelds’ plans. Says they left him in charge of the soldiers with vague promises. We were very insistent, but got nothing else out of him.”

I looked at the battered man. “If you have any information,” I said quietly, “this is your last chance to avoid the noose. If it is valuable enough, I promise you I will save your life. One last chance.”

“I… just opened the gate,” he lisped. “I didn’t know what they would do.”

“That’s all?”

He just looked at the ground listlessly.

“So be it.”

I nodded once.

Two soldiers pulled him up and dragged him outside.

The town center was packed shoulder to shoulder.

Every resident of the town had gathered, faces tight with anger.

A gallows had been set up at the center.

Odrik was dragged forward.

A woman spat in his face.

“Murderer!”

“Traitor!” another shouted.

“Let God’s justice fall on him!”

More curses followed. The roar spread through the crowd like wildfire through dry grass.

I gestured for the Baron to take the lead.

He climbed the platform, boots thudding on the planks.

I followed.

He raised a hand.

The crowd slowly went silent.

“We are gathered here to deliver justice to a man who betrayed his barony and his county,” he said, his deep voice carrying through the square. “Justice for what you all went through.”

He pointed to Odrik, his voice hardening.

“I am ashamed to call the man who abused you nephew, but let it be known that blood will not save any traitor from justice. He opened the gates of this town to Ironfeld soldiers. Sold his own people for the promise of power.”

He turned slightly, pointing to me. “Only through the leadership of our valiant Count and future Prince Consort, Jack Nobart, and the grace of our Queen, Her Majesty Laira Nanon, were we able to defeat the invaders and free you all.”

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Odrik twisted to face me, eyes wild.

“My Count!” he cried, voice hoarse. “Have mercy! I will serve you however you wish!”

I said nothing.

He had confessed to his own crimes.

The Baron looked at me.

The crowd waited.

I met their eyes.

“Let justice be done!”

A black hood was pulled over his head.

The executioner tightened the noose around his neck.

The thick rope creaked as they guided him onto the trapdoor.

For a heartbeat, the entire square held its breath.

Then, the lever dropped.

The crack of the dropping platform echoed across the square.

The rope snapped taut.

I heard his neck break.

The body jerked once, twice, then hung still.

The square went silent.

No one cheered.

I stepped down from the platform without looking back.

The people broke into quiet murmurs of thanks, some even crying.

A woman tried to push through the soldiers surrounding me.

Her face was twisted in distress. “My lord!” she shouted, voice cracking.

The guards moved to stop her. She tried to weave around.

“Let her pass.”

As the guard moved aside, she almost stumbled forward. Her dress was little more than rags.

The young boy clutching her hand was dressed similarly. He stared up at me with wonder.

“My husband died protecting this town,” she croaked. “What will happen to us?”

Eyes turned toward us.

I looked at the boy. “He died defending this town. His sacrifice won’t be in vain. No one here will be abandoned.”

“We will find you work,” the Baron replied instantly.

“Th- thank you, milord, but my legs don’t work well. I won’t be able to make much. I have another little one at home.”

I spoke out loud. “The family of every man who died protecting the town will receive their full annual pay. I guarantee it.”

The woman eyes widened, then moistened.

She burst into tears, clutching onto her child.

The crowd erupted into chants of “Long live the Count!”

We went back to the lord’s manor, which had been cleaned up for our use.

I let my body fall on the cushioned seat.

“My lord, how can I repay you?” the Baron asked.

“No need for that. I do need to buy a few things from you; iron, coal and seasoned timber. As much as you can sell right now.”

“You don’t need to pay,” he replied immediately. “I will have everything that is in the town’s stores sent to Nordhaven.”

“Thank you, but I am going to need a lot more than what Blackrain can currently produce. I want to build a new kind of furnace and a few other things here.”

His brows rose.

“I will call the furnace masters.”

“Later. Once I have drawn the sketches to show them.”

We freed ourselves from the sweat, blood and gore stuck to us and rested a while.

Moore informed us the final tally of the fallen had been made.

I forced myself to revisit the makeshift clinic.

Dozens of bodies were lined up outside.

Some had mangled limbs or large gashes running across the torso.

Others were intact, looking like they were just sleeping.

I recognized one of the men. It was Sigvald, Moore’s new aid.

The smart Lieutenant who had stopped my idiot cousins from fleeing justice. The one I was communicating with via heliograph.

Who I wanted to take over Moore’s duties, to let him focus on my new military.

“Took an arrow when we were approaching the gate,” Moore said quietly.

“We lost forty two men in total,” Grimric added. “Ninety are wounded, but most will recover to full health.”

I looked to Moore.

“Make sure the fallen’s families receive their annual salary within the month. I’ll arrange for four more years’ worth later.”

He nodded silently.

“That is a lot of money,” Godwin commented.

“Yes,” I said, looking at the faces that would never smile, laugh or cry. “But they died for me. It’s the least I can do.”

He nodded sharply.

“What about the Ironfeld men?” I asked.

“Seventy one dead. Fifty five wounded. Rest are fine.”

“Make sure the physicians see to them as well.”

“The enemy soldiers?” the Baron’s younger son, Brandolf, asked, eyebrows raised in incredulity.

“Yes. They are our prisoners now, not enemies.”

“They killed our soldiers and abused our women!”

“I am asking you to extend them mercy, not amnesty.”

I looked at his father.

“We will hold a proper trial,” he said. “All those who committed heinous crimes will face justice.”

All of our dead and the injured who could be moved were put on wagons and taken back to Falkenheim. The rest of us followed, leaving Wigmar in charge of the town and Wulfsden men.

We reached the city before dusk.

As we passed through the gates, the streets erupted into cheers of “Long live the Count!” and “Down with Ironfeld!”

I forced a smile.

People crowded the square as I dismounted.

“Blackrain has been freed!” I announced.

The cheers doubled in volume.

I had to dampen my senses further.

Even as people smiled and threw flowers at us, I felt nothing but exhaustion.

Inside the castle, familiar faces waited.

Lady Erenna, Isanna, Reshma, Eirica, Sifrena, Elric and Sir Hagen were there, all looking relieved.

“An unbelievable victory, my lord. I wish I had been there to witness it myself,” Hagen said wistfully.

I just smiled, receiving congratulations from everyone present.

A feast followed.

A dozen dishes covered the large table. Meat, vegetables and cheeses prepared in every possible manner. Jugs of wine.

The aroma was enticing.

I couldn’t enjoy it. Everything tasted the same.

“What’s wrong?” Reshma whispered beside me. “You aren’t eating much.”

“Nothing.”

She squeezed my thigh, but remained silent until the feast had ended.

In the private balcony of my chambers, she stepped behind me. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she rested her head on my back.

“What’s wrong?”she asked softly.

I stared out at the city, coated red in the light of the dying sun.

“I don’t care much for battle,” I said quietly.

“I want to build, not destroy.”

Violence had been fun in video games.

Not so much when real men died around you, at your commands.

“And yet you must do what is necessary,” she murmured.

“Yes.”

I watched the sun disappear behind the hills.

“There can be no peace without strength.”

Her arms tightened around me.

Nobody understood that truth better than her.

I took her hand in mine and kissed it.

“If that means more powerful weapons, so be it.”