It took about half an hour and several showings of the mirror's power but eventually the rest of the town understood what Gaston had nearly done. "And so I intend for the rest of us to head up there and officially apologize. After that...well I haven't really decided just yet," I finished awkwardly.

The rest of the town and quite a few folks from out in the countryside who'd come in when they'd learned about the armed band of men following Gaston passing through muttered among themselves, in tones too low for me to pick up. The early morning air was suddenly broken by the cry of "Regicide!"

My head snapped towards the direction of the voice. Thierry Pillot, a wandering peddler. He'd been in the Vendee region during the massacre and the tragedy he'd faced there had twisted him. He'd been wandering from village to village with his family when the Vendee had risen up. Being a native-born son of the region he'd thrown in his lot with the Royalists there. In the end it had cost him his livelihood, his wife, and his three small children all murdered by the Jacobin troops.

How he had managed to wander all the way from one side of the kingdom to the other we'd never figured out nor did we ever ask. He kept to himself for the most part save for when he got drunk. When that happened he would wander the streets, singing this heartbreaking solo of his long lost life, wife, and children while cursing the Jacobins to the deepest bowels. An odd trait of his was while his songs sounded like personal solos, either because of his madness, his drunkenness or both everyone could always hear him. Few interfered but all would weep every time, myself included.

Now the small man, his hair wild and his clothing torn from his lack of care, made his way through the crowd, shoving men and women much bigger than him. He then jabbed at Gaston, his eyes wild in a mad fury. Gaston, his face still swollen from my earlier ministrations, showed fear in his eyes for the first time in his life as he started backing away from the much smaller man.

Still Thierry made his way towards my brother, still pointing constantly shouting over and over and over again, "Regicide! Regicide! Regicide! Regicide!"

"Stay back! Go away!" My brother, my strong, brave, oh so proud brother, was scared out of his wits at the tiny mad man. He started backing away quicker, while Thierry kept up his pace. A few moments later Gaston broke into an outright run, fleeing in no particular direction save for 'away' from his tormentor. Looking behind him while running away he missed a raised stone in the courtyard and tripped, he took a sharp tumble and slammed his face into the stone. He rolled over, groaning in pain as he did so, blood pouring down his face from a re-broken nose.

He looked up and saw that Thierry was still approaching him, his shout now a shriek. "Regicide! Regicide! Regicide!"

"No. No. No. No nnononononononononono!" Gaston was now in a blind panic, trying to crab crawl away from the madman, but Thierry was moving faster and soon he was right on top of him. His boney finger coming closer and closer until it touched my brother's forehead. In his terror he shrieked like a lost soul as if he had been scorched by a hot iron when Thierry pressed his digit against his forehead.

"Cursed is he who makes to murder his king, and cursed shall ye be until ye have made amends," Thierry ground out in a grim voice much deeper than we expected the high tenor man to ever have. Then the small man spat on my brother and turned away. Hobbling back towards his dark hovel outside of town.

Everyone stood staring at what happened, then I saw movement again, this time three. I made to stop these new attackers but paused when I saw the three were the du Rhin sisters. Their eyes red while Claudette's eyes also burned with fury.

Claudette was the first to reach him. Gaston looked up at her, his eyes confused. "Claudette…?"

She said not a word, instead hauling back and slapping him. My brother was a big man and Claudette, while certainly not a pixy, was not that big a girl; his reaction was more shock than pain. She never said a word but turned around and walked away, her skirt flairing as she did so.

Laurette followed her sister and silently slapped him as well.

Finally Paulette walked up, she stared Gaston in the eyes long and hard, seemingly trying to look for something. After a few moments she shook her head and turned around as well. Gaston stared after them, his face showing how utterly lost he was.

Deciding enough was enough I cleared my throat and said, "Right then, Gaston, come with me and let's get you cleaned up. C'mon brother, easy does it." I help my brother back to his feet, and supporting him with one of his arms over my shoulders I make my way back to the inn. Turning to the confused crowd I said, "Right. I'll be cleaning up my brother and getting him to bed. As for the rest of you? Spread the word out to the rest of the valley. Tell them we need every jackman of them to come to a meeting, under the big oak at the base of the hill an hour before noon. We need to talk about what to do next." I paused for a moment then said, "And get the book keeper out, tell him...tell him to bring his sword."

That set off even more murmuring as the ramifications of my words struck home. Then I turned around and headed on towards the tavern, my mind a whirl of thoughts.