The braziers burned weak; their fires barely lit the tent. Aeda knelt on the uncovered earth, the grass tickling her knees as her stomach churned in the silence. Before her sat the Patriarch of House Martellus, eyes – eye darkened with rings and face tinged with pallor. From time to time, he took a sip form his bowl, not uttering a word.
‘Mrs. Moorsley,’ he finally said hoarsely. ‘Thank you most kindly for the broth, it’s delicious as always.’ He wiped his mouth and surrendered the empty bowl. ‘Now, if you please, take Aran outside for a moment? To the well perhaps, to draw some water.’
Mrs. Moorsley bowed and scrambled out the tent with Aran in tow. Father watched them leave before turning his attention on the three who remained. For those few agonising heartbeats, no one said anything, not the least of Aeda who forced herself to look down at his feet.
‘Aeda,’ father sighed. ‘What have you done? What have you almost done? What would’ve happened if you had done? Murder.’ He coughed. ‘If you had murdered. Care to tell me the price of such a crime where it come to pass?’
Nobody answered, seemingly content with analysing the ground.
‘For you,’ he said, expression grim. ‘A life of stone walls and chains awaits. You will live out the rest of your life, rotting in a cell if you’re lucky, an oubliette if you’re not. For the rest of us – the stain of dishonour requires that I take my own life, that I cut open my own neck to atone and for the rest of our House; a curse that last ten generations.’
Aeda flexed her hand, the bandage was making the wound itchy.
‘U-Uncle Albus,’ Tarkus stammered, head bouncing up and down as he spoke. ‘Aeda is not to blame – the fault is mine. I egged Artos and Aran to join me for a fish by the stream. A horsehand told me that was a good spot that one was – lots of roaches, catfishes, and trout even. If I didn’t, we’d all be in the fair where none of this would’ve happened.’
‘Father,’ Artos said, a familiar fire burning behind his eyes. ‘If it weren’t for Aeda, we’d be even more beaten and bloodied and perhaps, maybe even worse. By the Nine, why is she even in trouble?’
He stood up, brazen as he was.
‘Aeda is a hero, father!’ He pointed at her, voice rising. ‘She protected us from our enemies. She protected her own blood from harm! Where is the justice in this? Why is-’
‘That’s enough, Artos!’ Aeda snapped, glaring. ‘Restrain yourself and remember to whom you are speaking to.’
Artos shot her a look before turning his head aside, spat dryly and knelt whilst muttering curses under his breath. Aeda bowed low, so low that no one – not her father nor her brother nor Tarkus could see the growing blush on her face.
Thank you, brother.
‘Tarkus, Artos,’ father said, tone softening. ‘What Aeda did- I would’ve done the same were I in her position. We are after all; Imperials and blood runs thick. However, it is not that she defended you is what upsets me so,’
He turned to Aeda.
‘What upsets me so is that she lost control. Aeda who is your elder, who ought to be who her youngers look up to should’ve known better, should’ve been better.’
Aeda frowned.
‘What’s more, she is to be a knight and it takes more to be a knight than just courage and prowess.’ He shook his head. ‘In the eyes of our blessed ancestors, Aeda was in the right and nobly so but by the laws and by the courts – they are not as understanding. Tell me what is to come should de Aquilos be crippled or be killed? Do you think the Council would care that she did so to protect her blood? No. No they don’t.’
Aeda bowed low, so low that her forehead touched the ground. ‘I’m sorry father, you are right. I have dishonoured our house by my rash acts. I await my punishment.’
‘By right,’ father said coldly. ‘I should have you forfeit the joust on the morrow – perhaps even have you barred from joining the Imperial Knights. And if we are going by the laws of the Legion; you shall also suffer ten lashes. At least.’
Father pre-emptively silenced Artos and Tarkus with but a wave of his hand. ‘But first we have more to discuss. Tarkus, return to your father. The hour is growing late and he’s worried on your whereabouts. Repeat the tale if you’d like but tell him that Martellus will resolve the issue. Artos, leave us.’
Aeda could hear Artos grumble something but the two rose, saluted and left the tent without further complaint.
The fire crackled and Aeda could hear… wheezing. She looked up and saw father gasping for air before he suddenly groaned and lurched forward, very nearly hitting the ground – Aeda caught him before he did.
‘Artos! Tarkus! Nan! Send for the healer! Father is-‘
‘No,’ father said. ‘I’m alright… just exhausted from the day that’s all. Aeda, be a dear and fetch me some tea.’
Aeda did as she was told but she felt herself turning pale. She held her breathe as she poured a cup to stop her hands from shaking.
‘There’s more to this incident isn’t there?’ father said, leaning to the side. ‘Gorggnak was never one for lies and I know when he’s hiding something for me. Isn’t that right, Aeda?’
Aeda knelt and presented the cup.
‘Your hand,’ father said before sipping. ‘Show me.’
Aeda hesitated but she obeyed and unbound the bandage and presented her palm, now sticky with dried blood.
‘So, you have made the vows.’ He frowned. ‘You invoked Vendetta. That’s no child’s play – Vendetta isn’t some game, Aeda. Vendetta is ancient magic, deep and carved into the very stones of the mountains. You made an-‘
‘Oath before the gods,’ Aeda interrupted, nodding slowly. ‘Yes, I know what I did father.’
Father sighed. ‘And the Gods, the Nine and the Seventeen loathe and oathbreaker. Oh, Aeda. What am I to do? How about I start with “Why?”. Why did you invoke the blood oath? What offence did you deem so great that vengeance is necessary?’
‘Cedric he… he hit Artos and Aran. I thrashed him good for that.’
‘It seems to me that you’ve already avenged our family. Why is invoking Vendetta necessary?’
Aeda paused and sighed. ‘That’s not all of it. Cedric, he called you a coward. He called you a coward because you did not surrender when you’ve already been beaten. He said that you did so because you couldn’t bear the shame of defeat.
Aeda broke off, took a deep breath and continued. ‘I will not stand for this; it is just too much. I couldn’t let him get away with smearing your honour with his lies!’
Father brushed his hand against her cheek. ‘Child, what do you think a few unkind words are worth to me? Barely a slag in the furnace.’ He smiled. ‘But there is more to it, is there Aeda? I can see it in your eyes – you believe it, don’t you?’
Aeda bit her lip and nodded.
‘Why didn’t you yield, father?’ she said, wavering. ‘You let de Sanguin withdraw and keep his honour and I’m sure de Aquilos would do the same for you. If you withdrew, you need not be hurt, need not be a-‘
She turned away. ‘A crippled. You could’ve died! Leaving us all alone and I’m not ready. I’m not worthy to lead our House if you did. I’m not-’ The words choked in her sobs.
Father leaned back, looking ashamed. ‘That… that is part of the truth. The bitter, harsh truth. The other half is that I lost control, Aeda. In the heat of battle, all I could think of was tearing de Aquilos’ head off for what he did. I know he was not to blame for the Massacre of Deshaan – your grandfather, my father’s death was not his fault. No excuses.
‘You are right, Aeda. It’s not just of me to push this burden upon my family just so I can satisfy my lust for vengeance. Not just at all. I apologise. Thank you for reminding me of my duty but Aeda-
He met her eyes and she saw a strange fear behind them.
‘You’ve made an oath to the gods. How do you intend to keep it?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said.
He regarded her and then stood, wobbling, barely on his feet.
‘I will go to de Aquilos,’ he said after a long period of silence. ‘I will do right by my blood; I will make peace with the eagle.’
He stood, wobbling and when his legs begun to give out, Aeda quickly seized him by the shoulders and leaned him on her.
‘You make me feel that I’m a weak old man.’ He chuckled. ‘Well not an old man but I am weak.’
No, she thought. You are never weak.
‘I’ll follow you,’ she said. ‘Iron does not chip far.’
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