Read Online Count Scar - SA by C. Dale Brittain, Robert A. Bouchard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C. Dale Brittain, Robert A. Bouchard
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about these heretics. I thought my own grandfather was from a count's family."
"Your great-grandfather led the war that drove the filthy heretics back," said Bruno in a storyteller's voice, enjoying this, "though his two sons were the actual field commanders. It was a great and terrible war, with thousands killed on both sides, but the followers of the True Faith won at last and drove the devil's spawn to that little strip of land they still control in the high mountains along the border. Your great-grandfather was named Caloran, too — did you know that? After the war he was rewarded with the tide of Count of Peyrefixade, the first count of your line. A little later when he died, his younger son, your grandfather, went north, but his older son, Bernhard, held the county for a great many years, until he finally died a year ago and his granddaughter started raising trouble with the Magians."
"I've heard mention of that war, of course," I said thoughtfully, looking out the window again. I could see, halfway up my mountain, a single rider. "They must indeed have had God on their side to be able to capture this castle. My family surely hated the heretics as much as the duke does."
"Maybe the secret passages were hidden by heretic magic when they fled from here," Bruno suggested. But he was interrupted by the triple note of the horn.
The person I had seen approaching had not looked particularly important, so I waited for him to come to , me rather than going out to the gate. I returned the parchments to the treasury box along with the remains of the countess's money. Less of it was gold than I had hoped, but there was still enough for supplies until the March rents—assuming the seneschal's figures were accurate, for he, unlike the cook, seemed to keep everything in his mournful head.
In a minute a somewhat bedraggled knight entered, escorted by my guards. His cloak was torn and stained and the hauberk under it rusty. He went down on his knees before me, with only the slightest encouraging push from the guards, and offered me his sword, hilt first. "I'm sorry I didn't get here right away, my lord," he mumbled, "but I was busy."
"No one should be so busy that he cannot greet his new lord," I said sternly, deliberately turning the scarred side of my face toward him. As I spoke I wondered who he could be. Another member of my staff who had been on one too many little visits to his old mother? Not a dependent castellan, because the seneschal had told me Peyrefixade was the only castle in the county; I wouldn't be like my brother the archduke, with scores of castellans to oversee. Perhaps a village mayor with delusions of grandeur?
It was the latter. I accepted his sword and held it by the hilt, making no motion for him to rise, while he explained why he had finally decided to come up the mountain. "And so it was a clear case of adultery," he said, finishing the complicated details of an affair that must have entertained and scandalized his village for months. "I've ruled them guilty, but because it's a capital case you have to seal my justice-roll. For the duke," he added as I frowned.
"If this is a case of high justice," I said slowly, "then only I, as count, can adjudicate."
"Well, yes," he said, hesitating now, "but Countess Aenor always told me to go ahead myself. She trusted me and sealed the roll."
"But I am not the countess." I thrust his sword back at him. "If you're my man, you have to do things my way." I had no desire at all to ride down the mountain and hear a bunch of villagers scream at each other, but it appeared I had no choice. Delegating authority in capital cases was the easiest way to lose prestige among underlings and to encourage abuse of power. That was one thing even my brother had known well. "You haven't put any of them to death yet, have you?" I asked in some trepidation.
"Well, no," he said, trying to justify himself. "Sealed ruling first, execution afterwards."
"I seal no decision of high
"Your great-grandfather led the war that drove the filthy heretics back," said Bruno in a storyteller's voice, enjoying this, "though his two sons were the actual field commanders. It was a great and terrible war, with thousands killed on both sides, but the followers of the True Faith won at last and drove the devil's spawn to that little strip of land they still control in the high mountains along the border. Your great-grandfather was named Caloran, too — did you know that? After the war he was rewarded with the tide of Count of Peyrefixade, the first count of your line. A little later when he died, his younger son, your grandfather, went north, but his older son, Bernhard, held the county for a great many years, until he finally died a year ago and his granddaughter started raising trouble with the Magians."
"I've heard mention of that war, of course," I said thoughtfully, looking out the window again. I could see, halfway up my mountain, a single rider. "They must indeed have had God on their side to be able to capture this castle. My family surely hated the heretics as much as the duke does."
"Maybe the secret passages were hidden by heretic magic when they fled from here," Bruno suggested. But he was interrupted by the triple note of the horn.
The person I had seen approaching had not looked particularly important, so I waited for him to come to , me rather than going out to the gate. I returned the parchments to the treasury box along with the remains of the countess's money. Less of it was gold than I had hoped, but there was still enough for supplies until the March rents—assuming the seneschal's figures were accurate, for he, unlike the cook, seemed to keep everything in his mournful head.
In a minute a somewhat bedraggled knight entered, escorted by my guards. His cloak was torn and stained and the hauberk under it rusty. He went down on his knees before me, with only the slightest encouraging push from the guards, and offered me his sword, hilt first. "I'm sorry I didn't get here right away, my lord," he mumbled, "but I was busy."
"No one should be so busy that he cannot greet his new lord," I said sternly, deliberately turning the scarred side of my face toward him. As I spoke I wondered who he could be. Another member of my staff who had been on one too many little visits to his old mother? Not a dependent castellan, because the seneschal had told me Peyrefixade was the only castle in the county; I wouldn't be like my brother the archduke, with scores of castellans to oversee. Perhaps a village mayor with delusions of grandeur?
It was the latter. I accepted his sword and held it by the hilt, making no motion for him to rise, while he explained why he had finally decided to come up the mountain. "And so it was a clear case of adultery," he said, finishing the complicated details of an affair that must have entertained and scandalized his village for months. "I've ruled them guilty, but because it's a capital case you have to seal my justice-roll. For the duke," he added as I frowned.
"If this is a case of high justice," I said slowly, "then only I, as count, can adjudicate."
"Well, yes," he said, hesitating now, "but Countess Aenor always told me to go ahead myself. She trusted me and sealed the roll."
"But I am not the countess." I thrust his sword back at him. "If you're my man, you have to do things my way." I had no desire at all to ride down the mountain and hear a bunch of villagers scream at each other, but it appeared I had no choice. Delegating authority in capital cases was the easiest way to lose prestige among underlings and to encourage abuse of power. That was one thing even my brother had known well. "You haven't put any of them to death yet, have you?" I asked in some trepidation.
"Well, no," he said, trying to justify himself. "Sealed ruling first, execution afterwards."
"I seal no decision of high
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