For James, left in Truce to man the Mayor's residence and monitor the military occupation of the town, the Solstice was not turning out to be a good one. The other soldiers were throwing a party down at the tavern. Arch had invited him along, but he'd turned down the offer, not wanting to be seen in town, where he felt judged by everyone.
So instead he was alone in the mansion that used to belong to his family. It was a large family, with three sons and six daughters, and usually at this time of year, you couldn't go anywhere in the house without running into someone wanting to hand you a drink or tell you some snide joke. Now, James was the only one of his family allowed to set foot inside the residence, the others having been banned by the King's royal decree when Gregoire had spoken out against the taxes. Most had families of their own. Alba, Mary, Rebecca, Sarah, and Jessica were all married. Gregoire was staying with Alba (though James had heard he more likely to be found at the tavern at any given moment). Their father and little Romana were staying with Jessica and Dallon in their home. Samdel was staying with a girl he knew on the outskirts of town.
That left James to wander around the lonely mansion in a sort of daze, a glass of bourbon in his hand. He'd grown up inside these walls feeling trapped, wanting to explore more of the world than the hundred or so acres owned by the family. He'd left at fourteen to try and become a knight. The path had not been easy, but by sixteen he'd accomplished his goal and was interred as a knight in the King's guard. He'd thought he'd escaped his prison forever. Now, four years later, those walls had found a way to trap him again.
He stopped under a picture of his father that hung in the main sitting room. While sipping at his drink, he let his mind wander a few days back, when he'd gone to visit father. Jessica had always been the favourite of the James' sisters. It figured she'd end up with the saddest fate: married to an asshole like Dallon and childless all these years of their marriage, with her only pregnancy ending prematurely. The old man moving in with her wasn't a help, either. Now she had two men to wait on. Between the old man's waking up early, and Dallon's habit of coming home late (usually drunk), Jessica was up all hours. James' sister bore her misfortunes with good cheer, though. If she felt at all unsatisfied with her lot, she didn't let it show. She had greeted him with a hug at the door of her house, a large two story cottage.
"It truly gladdens my hearts to see you, brother."
"And mine to see you. You are well?"
"Yes."
"Truly?"
Jessica didn't answer. For a moment she looked away and the smile left her face. But it was back by the time she turned again, as bright as ever... and as fake, James thought.
"Come inside, father would like to see you," his sister said.
"I'm not so sure of that."
Jessica brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face and took his hand. He allowed himself to be led inside, finding himself in a kitchen cramped by the inclusion of a round table, at which sat his elderly father, the former mayor of Truce, dressed impeccably in formal robes, as if he was going to court to treat of politics and economics. An untouched glass of wine sat in front of him. Father never drank, but he pretended to all the time.
Behind father stretched the living room, bright with the day's sun coming through the many windows. At the end of that room were stairs leading to the second story. Above them, James could hear movement and he wondered who else was in the house. Probably Dallon, who avoided him. James couldn't complain: he didn't like Dallon, and was only too glad that Jessica's acerbic drunkard of a husband was staying out of his sight.
Jessica beamed and declared she had some food for James. She went to get it, humming a popular tune. Though she never left the room, the moment father caught his eyes, James felt alone. He'd never known his mother. The woman ad died during his childbirth, and his father had never taking a liking to him, as if he couldn't separate the two events in his mind. Finally, James spoke to break the tension:
"Hello, father. I hope the day finds you well."
Though the words were right, there was an emptiness behind them James couldn't disguise. His father gave him a cursory smile, than looked towards his wine again.
"I see you've come down from the hill. How is the old house? You're keeping it well?"
The question seemed innocent, but there was an insinuation behind it that made James' face turned red. Jessica's humming went up a pitch and twittered nervously. For her sake, James kept his composure.
"The house is well. I spend a lot of time in the gardens. I've tried to keep them proper."
"For what purpose? So that the King's men can trample the flowers after the Solstice? So that you can impress whores before befouling the house with their presence?"
James couldn't help but laugh.
"I assure you, I've not brought any whores home."
"Home for you maybe. Just like you always wanted it."
"I don't understand what you mean, father."
"Hmph."
A loud slam on the table announced Jessica's return with a bowl of sauce and meat balls made from lamb, as well as a plate of bread to sop up the sauce with.
"Please, sit," Jessica said to James, indicating a chair across from their father. James took the seat in silence and focused on his meal, though he could hardly taste it. All he could feel was a throbbing in his head. Of course he understood what his father was implying. After all, he had joined the military against his wishes, and now he was part of the force occupying his former title. It was an awkward situation, to be sure.
"Ah, I see my brother and father are enjoying each other's company."
James looked up to see Samdel standing in the entrance to the living room with his hands on his hips and a smart-assed grin spread across his face. Adopted into the family, Samdel didn't share James' good looks, but he had a natural confidence in all of his actions that made him highly charismatic. Holding onto his leg with one tiny hand was little Romana, barely 3 that year, but already an intelligent and beautiful child, with little of a child's usual flabbiness and un-cordination and large green eyes that stared inquisitively at everything they encountered. She had also been adopted by the family, the daughter of a local girl who couldn't afford to take care of her, and who died of sickness not long after the birth. At seeing James, she burst into smile and ran to him, and he obliged her by taking her in his lap and tussling her hair.
"And how's my little eaglet?" James said, to which Romana replied with a grin full of budding teeth.
Meanwhile, James' father beamed to see Samdel and greeted him with such honest enthusiasm that James couldn't help but feel jealous. Though they weren't even his own blood, his father's love for Samdel and Romana ran infinitely deeper than it ever had for James. He couldn't blame Romana, for she was everyone's angel, but it was harder to forgive Samdel.
"When is Ghetz coming back?" Romana asked, quite suddenly. James was taken aback for a moment, then he remembered seeing Ghetz playing with Romana and smiled. A second later, the smile was wiped from his face as he saw his father's scowl. Surely the old man blamed him for Romana's choice of playmates. Samdel's grin grew larger.
"Jessica, make yourself busy," Samdel said to his step-sister in a condescending tone. "My stomache is hungry. Feed it."
"You might bring something for your father, as well," the former mayor complained. "I see you take care of James well enough."
As Jessica scrambled off to obey and Samdel swaggered to the table, James saw another man descending the stairs. He was tall, having to bend down as he descended to avoid hitting his head on the overhang. He wasn't wearing a shirt and James could see a large tattoo over his muscled chest. The tattoo was a black circle wreathed in black fire. It rippled with his massive pectorals as he moved down the stairs. When he came into the kitchen, James saw his eyes were as black as his long hair that he wore braided in a pony-tail. The man didn't take a seat, but stood silently behind Samdel with his arms crossed. James raised an eye at Samdel and his father, but neither bothered with an introduction.
"How is the old homestead?" Samdel asked, instead.
"I've just finished discussing it with Father."
"A conversation I'm sad to have missed. Did he mention the whores?"
"He did, at that."
"Ha ha, father's never forgiven you for that, has he?"
"As well as a good many other things."
"That was your first and last time with a woman, I'll bet. Probably can't make it with one without hearing father's voice, can you? I keep telling him, James gave up women when he joined the boys at the castle. Just like you gave up drinking, eh?"
"Actually, I could do with a drink right now, I think."
"Good! I say, we'll make a man of you, yet!"
Jessica returned with food for father and Samdel at that moment. As she put down the plate in front of Samdel, he grabbed her wrist and pushed some coins into her hand.
"Run to the tavern and bring us some ale. Dallon's quaffed everything that's in the house, I'm sure. Take Romana with you."
Again Jessica obeyed with her silent smile, grabbing Romana from James (after a last hug and grin) and going to get their coats. The four men waited in silence until she was out of the house. James had a strange feeling in his gut, a sense of something unpleasant coming that made him want to leave with his sisters. Instead he sat uncomfortably until they could no longer hear Jessica's footsteps on the gravel path outside. Then Samdel grinned and hunkered down in front of his meal.
"Now it's just us boys, eh?"
Samdel ate while James waited. After inhaling a few bites of food, he looked up.
"You're in an interesting position, brother."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you've been given charge of the whole town until the end of the Solstice and the return of the other captain... what's his name?"
"Ghetz."
"Right, right. Romana's little play mate. Until he gets back, the town is in your control, no?"
"No. Where are you going with this?"
"Answer your brother's question," their father growled. James shot him a dark look, but what was he to do? If he denied to answer, it would come off as petty, the behavior of a child. Anyway, what could an answer hurt him?
"Fine. No, I'm a warden. The King rules Truce... as he has always done."
"Words brother, mere words. The King isn't here, and you are."
"I only act in the King's name."
"Exactly! We wouldn't ask you to do anything else except exercise your power."
"What power I have I cannot wield. I am merely a sword in the King's sheathe."
"Hmph," their father snorted. "That's always been your game. Sit back and avoid the blame."
"What father means to say is that, though we find no fault in what you've done, sometimes there's larger fault in doing nothing."
"To hell we don't find fault with what he's done!" their father growled.
"Amazing sentiment," James said, pushing his chair back and rising, taking his plate. "The meal was good. Thank Jessica for me when she returns. Tell her I'm sorry I could not stay longer."
"Do you really think Jessica can summon anyone? I had her call you here. Think you to walk out on my invitation?"
"I've come, and I've heard what you have to say. I've finished my meal, and I'm leaving."
"You'll stay and listen to your brother!" Father shouted.
"Now, now, father. We must show brother James our respect. Very well. Leave if you must. But here! A man of your position clearing his own plate? Allow our friend to help you with that. Greco, would you?"
At this, the large tattooed man moved over to James and took the dishes out of his hands. For a moment, their hands touched. James felt masses of calloused skin on Greco's fingers. The man could probably punch through stone without feeling it.
"I appreciate it," James said to Greco. He nodded at the table. "Father, brother. It's been the usual pleasure."
James turned to leave, but, though he had taken the dishes, Greco hadn't moved and was blocking James' way. The young knight's eyes narrowed. He pushed past the large man, feeling like he was pushing past a brick wall, and headed for the door.
Suddenly there was a sound of rushing air. James instinctively tilted his head to one side. As such, the pewter plate missed his face, spinning past his right ear to embed itself three inches into the wooden front door.
He spun around to see Greco casually withdraw his right hand, the one which had previously held the plate. James' hand automatically went to his sword belt, only to discover he'd left his blade at the manor. A coldness flowed through him. It seemed his blood had turned to ice. Only his heart beat fiercely in a fiery rage.
"What manner of foul play is this?" he hissed, turning to his brother, keeping one eye on Greco. "Attacking a knight of the realm in cold blood? Were word of this to reach the King, it would not go well for you!"
"Nay, nor for the whole of Truce. Surely the King's leniency wouldn't be pushed so far as to condone the open slaying of his knights. Do you not see what you've become, brother? You're naught but a tool helping to lead Truce to destruction."
"It's not my actions that endanger the safety of Truce! If you weren't greedy for power, you would give up these silly charades of rebellion!"
His father slammed his hand on the table. "Power? You think this is about power? This is about what's right! You've taken what's ours and I want it back!"
Samdel remained calm, watching James with cool eyes.
"Think you this mere charade, brother? Greco here should be proof of our sincerity. If you think he's talented with dish-ware, you should see him when he has a man's head in his hands."
Samdel gritted his teeth with a crunching sound. James shook, though he couldn't tell if it was fear or anger that tremored his body. Samdel continued:
"I didn't call you here to threaten you. I called you here to warn you. The people of Truce have spoken out against the King's military occupation. Where do you think we got the coin to hire Greco, here? His abilities don't come cheap. The money was put up by over half the town."
"I seriously doubt that."
"Doubt all you like. The point is, you are the enemy now, brother. I would have it differently."
Their father scoffed. "You speak to deaf ears, son. James is happy being where he is. He's enjoying the fruits of his labour, picked right out from under us."
"I had nothing to do with them taking the house, father."
"You stole the house just like you stole the life of your mother."
There was silence in the room, though it was a silence heavy with emotions that had been suppressed for years. Samdel took a sudden renewed interest in his meal. Their father looked straight ahead, avoiding James' stare. Even Greco reacted, raising his eyebrows inquisitively as he looked at the family. Finally Samdel sighed and ran a hand through his brown hair.
"Well, now father, that's an unfair statement that I'm sure you don't mean. Father's been stressed, you see. I'm sure you understand." For once Samdel didn't sound confident, and James realized suddenly that he somehow agreed with their father's sentiment.
"Let me see you outside, James," Samdel said, rising to open the door. Greco began to follow, but Samdel waved him off.
James found he couldn't move. He continued to stare at his father's wrinkled face. His father's eyes were wet with unshed tears. James couldn't bring himself to cry. He felt only a deep emptiness and a feeling of sinking, as if he would fall through his own body and melt into the floor, with the image of his father sitting silently at the table forever implanted on his mind.
He felt a tug on his elbow, and the feeling brought him back to himself long enough to leave with Samdel. Outside it was unusually warm for winter, but to James' eyes all the cheer had left the day. With a bulging of his nostrils Samdel breathed in the fresh air and sighed.
"Forgive father, won't you? Better yet, give him reason to love you."
"He's had every reason a father should ever need. His hatred of me runs too deep to be brushed aside this late in life."
"If not for me or father, then for Jessica and your sisters. Think on Romana. What kind of life is she destined to live, marked as part of a traitor family? She'll never be free of the dishonor." Samdel saw James looking away and frowned. "Are you listening to me?"
"She wasn't your mother, Sam. How can you blame me for her death?"
Samdel looked away, his mouth twisted in involuntary disgust.
"Neither of us had a mother, James." He looked back. "Think on what I've said. Things are already in motion. By the time Solstice is over, there won't be any escaping."
"What do you have planned?"
"It doesn't behoove me to tell you at this time. Remember, by the time Solstice is over, it will be too late. I hope to find your sword at my side, and not at my throat, James."
Now, thinking back on the conversation from within the dark confines of the mayor's residence, James felt his anger and sorrow arise anew. What was a man without family? James had no place in his father's heart, and his brother saw him only as a well placed tool. He'd be damned before he'd let them coerce him into betraying his King. He wondered about Samdel's words... what plot was brewing in the King's court? If only he knew, he could warn his Lord. The sentiment felt empty even in his mind, though. He thought about Jessica and little Romana. They would suffer now no matter what action he took, and he was bound to suffer with them.
He finished his drink and threw his glass into the fire, the explosion drowning out his curses against the fate that had caused him to be born into such despair.