The Comte and the Peasant: Chapter one
Hi everyone! Please R/R and tell me if this fanfic is any good or not ^_^. Happy reading! HYD belongs to Yoko Kamio, Toei Animation, Daran Comics, etc. It does not belong to me in any way, shape, or form. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while ^_^.
*****************************************************************************************************************
The crowing of the cock woke Thadea Marcoux from her pleasant slumber as it did every morning. Groggily fumbling out of bed, she could already hear her mother shuffling around the room preparing the family's breakfast.
Rubbing her hands over her sleep encrusted eyes, Thadea stretched lazily and swung her feet over the side of her small wooden bed. Yesterday had been a particularly tiring day, and she was sore all over from helping her mother in the garden. It was spring, mid April to be exact, and the summer vegetables need to be planted. She had spent the entire day yesterday in the hot sun digging up the soil and pulling out the weeds just so the plot would be ready for her mother to begin sowing the seeds.
As her blurry eyes came into focus, Thadea looked around their one room house and a sudden wave of depression came over her. They manage to keep it tidy enough she supposed, but the dirt floor and the bare mud walls often made her gloomy.
She hated to admit it, but it embarrassed her to be so poor. Her father was a miller for god sakes, the only one in the area, but he still wasn't able to pull in a decent amount of money in order to pay the taxes and feed the family at the same time. People would rather travel an extra ten miles to the miller at the Brule Mill than to come to him, and that thought angered her more than anything else. Oh, she knew it wasn't her father's fault that he was no good at operating a mill. Her grandfather was the fool who had focused all his attention on training his oldest son, only to have the man die of some strange illness three months after he had inherited the mill.
"Papa tries his best you know," Thadea chastised herself, "I mustn't think so negatively about him or our situation." She always felt guilty whenever the feelings of dissatisfaction and anger hit her, and thus she learned long ago to fight them down and keep them locked away in the back of her mind. She figured things are just the way they are whether she was happy or not, and she could either sit there and complain about it all the time like her mother, or stay optimistic and work hard to change it. The latter always seemed to be the more practical solution, and thus Thadea always remembered to face the start of each day with a positive attitude.
Reaching back to give her younger brother Sumner a light shove to wake him, Thadea pulled her faded gray linen dress over the patched brown chemise in which she slept in. As she searched around for her coarse leather belt, she could hear the light snoring of her younger brother continue. "Lazy bum," she muttered under her breath as she tied her belt and stalked angrily back to the bed. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him, but all that did was produce heavier snoring from the dark haired boy.
"Wake up! Wake up!" she hollered at him as she shook him even harder. Sumner's eyes snapped open as his crazy sister nearly threw him off the bed and pushed her hands away with an annoyed groan. "Geez sis, you don't have to break my neck," he complained as he gave her a disapproving glance. Thadea remained unfazed, and shot back angrily, "I wouldn't have to keep doing this if you would just learn to get up on time."
Just then the door opened and her father entered the room with a bucket of water in each hand. He dropped them down next to the hearth, and called cheerfully, "Good morning family! Time for breakfast!" Her mother looked up from where she was crouched in front of the fireplace, and gave him a look of annoyance. "What's so good about it?" she demanded sourly as she stirred the cauldron of gruel. "Have you finally gotten some business for us?"
"Now Cherie, honey…," he began nervously, "…I'm working as hard as I can…"
"Which isn't good enough!" Cherie Marcoux fairly screamed as she banged the large wooden spoon against the side of the cauldron. "Look at us! We're so poor! We can't even afford anything better than this lousy gruel to eat! It's all your fault! I should have listened to my mother when she warned me not to marry you! She told me you were a big loser, but I didn't listen! I was so stupid…"
Thadea tuned out her mother's loud ranting as she did everyday. She watched passively as Sumner ran over to defend their poor father from their mother's angry tirade. "Will it always be like this?" she wondered to herself as she continued to stare at the crazy trio before her, "Will my life ever change for the better?"
After a meager breakfast of gruel and hard bread, Thadea picked up her basket and straw hat and walked outside into the warm, sunny spring day. A light breeze caressed her face and lifted the tiny strands of brown hair that had fallen out of her twin braids. She was on her way to town today to buy some groceries. Because they lived out in the countryside, it wasn't necessary for the Marcouxs or their neighbors to purchase food from the venders like the townspeople did everyday. Being farmers, they grew most of the vegetables they ate and did their own baking. Still, trips into town were necessary once in a while, since items such as salt and cooking oil couldn't be made on the farm.
It usually took Thadea a good half hour to make it into the city of Troyes, but she didn't mind the long walk. She enjoyed the quiet time to herself, and the warm sun and the sweet country air always made her feel refreshed and alive.
"Thadea! Thadea!" a voice called out from behind her. Thadea turned and saw her friend Mirielle Enaud running after her, her short, dark brown hair bouncing up and down.
"Good morning Mirielle," she greeted as she waited for the girl to catch up. "What are you up to today?"
"I'm going into town for some groceries and cloth," Mirielle replied enthusiastically. "I'm guessing you're also headed there?"
Thadea smiled and linked her arm with her friend's. "Onwards we march my friend!"
The two girls chatted happily about the nice weather, friends, and other trivial matters. Mirielle told Thadea about the new dress her mother was going to make for her, and Thadea listened attentively as the girl gushed about what kind of cloth she was preparing to buy.
"My mother gave me twenty deniers! Can you believe that?"
Thadea suppressed a sigh as she thought about how much food twenty deniers could buy for her and her family. She couldn't remember the last time her mother had given her more than five deniers for a trip to market, and even then she had to listen to her complain for a good half hour.
As they entered the city through the Croncels Gate, Thadea eagerly took in the sights, smells, and sounds of the bustling streets. She always enjoyed her trips into town, for it was the one chance she had to browse through the open venders and peek into the stores. The market was full of things such as pottery, cloth, wares, and other goods that she wouldn't be able to see at home.
The two girls slowly made their way through the throngs of townspeople, down the Rue de Croncels and past rows and rows of wooden houses. They passed the former synagogue of St. Pantaleon before finally reaching the Rue de l'Epicerie or the street of Grocers. It was already more than an hour past terce and the street was crowded with noisy peddlers and busy housewives.
"I'll meet you by that bakery over there in an hour okay?" Mirielle pointed to a small store where a portly man with a scruffy beard was stacking out loaves of freshly baked bread for his customers.
Thadea looked at her in confusion, but suddenly remembered the cloth that Mirielle needed to buy. "I can pick up the wafers and the vinegar for your mom if you want," she offered.
Mirielle thanked her and handed her five deniers. "I think that should cover it," she said before she turned to run down the street. "I'll see you later!" she yelled over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd.
Thadea jiggled the silver coins in her hand and made her way over to the spice venders. She purchased the salt that her mother had requested, and also a large jug of vinegar for Mirielle, which to her surprise only cost her two deniers. "The prices have gone down this year," she commented to the vender as he placed the jug into her basket. He gave her a brief smile before turning to his next customer, and Thadea glanced enviously at the bottles of oils and the jars of spices that were laid out before her. She couldn't remember the last time they had cooked a meal with oil or any seasoning besides salt. Hell, her mother even insisted on making their own vinegar rather than purchasing it from the town venders like their neighbors did.
As Thadea came out of the pastry shop, she heard the chimes of the cathedral ringing, signaling that it was noon. She hurried along down the street towards the bakers', scanning for Mirielle in the crowd. When she didn't see her, she slowed her pace and stopped a few steps before the window of the bakery. She turned to face out into the street, and waited patiently for Mirielle to appear.
As she watched the peddlers pass by with their cheeses, wines, eggs, and meats, Thadea became painfully aware of how hungry she was. Reaching into the small leather pouch she carried on her belt, she pulled out two oboles and a denier. "And mom will be expecting change," she reminded herself sourly, "So I'll have to find something that I can buy for two oboles…"
While Thadea contemplated her possibilities, she suddenly became aware of the commotion among the crowd. Many shoppers were abandoning the venders and hurrying down the street towards the Cour de la Rencontre. Curious, she stopped a young boy around ten or eleven and asked "What's going on? Where's everyone going?"
"Don't you know? There's a flogging at the Meeting Court!" he exclaimed excitedly as he pulled away from her and ran down the street. Thadea blinked in surprise as she watched the excited crowd hurrying past her, then shook her head in disgust. She had never understood the fascination people held in torturing a human being, and thus had always made it a point to avoid the Cour de la Recontre when a punishment was to be carried out.
"I should just find Mirielle and get out of here," she told herself. But Mirielle still hadn't shown up yet, and it took Thadea a moment to realize that perhaps Mirielle had also gone to see the flogging.
"But that's unlikely," Thadea thought to herself, "she hates violence even more than I do." Still, she hadn't shown up yet, and it wouldn't hurt to go down there and take a look. "Maybe she doesn't know what it is and just got curious."
The Cour de la Rencontre was filled with people. It seemed like the whole town had come out to see the flogging. Thadea stood on her tiptoes and tried to look out over the heads of people, trying to catch Mirielle. She had been wearing a straw hat with a bright green ribbon wrapped around the top, and Thadea figured it shouldn't be hard to spot. As she peered out over the throngs of people, Thadea's eyes couldn't help but move towards the raised wooden platform at the center of the court. Her eyes fixed on a thin figure draped in tattered rags, kneeling with his head bowed in the middle of the platform. She could also see a soldier standing on the side, holding a whip in his hand making his way towards the poor man.
A sudden cheer came from the crowd as a black carriage drawn by sleek black horses made it's way through the parted crowd and towards the platform. The door opened, and a tall man with dark curly hair stepped out onto the street. He was dressed impeccably in a blood red tunic and black hose. Over his tunic was draped a beautiful mahogany and black fur lined cloak with intricate gold embroidery. Thadea sucked in her breath, and thought to herself that she had never in her life seen clothing so beautiful. "It must cost a fortune!" she exclaimed, her eyes following the young man as he made his way towards a covered boxlike area near the platform. Three other elegantly dressed young men, although not nearly as extravagant in appearance as the first one, also stepped out of the carriage and made their way towards the boxlike area. The four seated themselves in expensive carved chairs, and uniformed servants immediately appeared with what looked like wine and refreshments.
"They look like they're ready for a ball, not a flogging," Thadea muttered to herself as she tore her gaze away from the quartet and back to the crowd. Her eyes searched from head to head until she finally spotted a straw hat with a bright green ribbon. "Mirielle!" she cried as she tried to push her way through the people in front of her, "Mirielle!"
The straw hat turned and her friend's face came into view. "Oh Thadea! Hold on!" Mirielle also fought her way back towards Thadea, and the two finally met partway amidst the angry protests and indignant cries of the people around them. "Sorry for leaving you like that!" Mirielle exclaimed as she grabbed a hold of Thadea's arm, "but I just had to come and see this!"
"The flogging? I can't believe it!" Thadea cried in shock, "I thought we agreed that such torture was cruel and disgusting!"
"Oh I didn't come to see the flogging!" Mirielle cried indignantly, "I came to see the F4!"
"The F4? What's that?"
Mirielle blinked as if she had just been hit in the head by a board. "Don't you know who the F4 are??"
"Should I?" Thadea was getting annoyed at Mirielle's incredulous tone.
"They are those four guys that came out of the carriage silly! I can't believe you've never heard of them!"
Thadea didn't answer, and Mirielle took this as a sign that she needed further explanation. "The F4 is a nickname for the four sons of the lords of county! The guy in the red there is the son of the Comte de Champagne!"
Thadea blinked, and realized immediately that that must be the reason why he was so expensively dressed. "It makes sense now," she murmured as her eyes traveled back to the young man. But she wondered briefly why the son of the lord of the county would bother to visit Troyes.
"What makes sense?" Mirielle questioned, but then shook her head and continued with her "introduction to the F4" speech. "The one with the light brown hair is the son of our Comte, and that handsome one with the short black hair over there is the son of the Comte de Provins, and the one with the long wavy reddish brown hair is the son of the Viscount!" She grinned and added, "They say the F4 have been inseparable since they were children. They go everywhere together! Did you know that the F4 stands for the "four flowery princes"? Don't you think that's so romantic?"
As Mirielle continued to gush about the F4, Thadea threw her friend a strange look. She'd never heard Mirielle talk about anyone the way she was talking about these F4 guys, and she wondered vaguely why she thought them so romantic. Hadn't it occurred to her that one of those "flowery princes" might be responsible for the flogging that was about to take place? Didn't it matter to her that the poor man was going to be whipped to death for some trivial offense? The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the feeling of awe and admiration that she had held a moment ago for the fancy clothes and stylish carriage of the future Comte de Champagne was fading fast.
Suddenly, she wanted to leave. To get out of this horrid place where the people were all jeering and laughing at the poor man on display. But before she could tell Mirielle that they should go, the booming voice of the announcer called that it was time for the flogging to begin.