Chapter 2: Where It Flows
The boy dreamed of Geas; obligations, prohibitions, and oaths imposed. Ought the father to exile his son of ten? Should the mother leave her child behind? Is the ruler exempt from the plight of the ruled?
Must the child not yearn for the world as it could be?
A knight's honor required he do not evil, but what of evil you cannot defeat by just means? Do you stain your hands with evil? Or do you remain steadfastly just and righteous even if it means surrendering to evil?
He dreamt of oaths exchanged. Blood for victory; war for peace. Had it meant nothing to his banners? Black Knights and black deeds.
In the end, trust is the wager that ends your life. The heart's whisper is a treacherous knife.
-ZeroRequiem-
Lelouch stared at the cotton clouds, running his hands along the coarse taffrails of the Maidenhull. "A fine day for Lord Wells."
"Then why so glum, Cousin?" Kiren smirked. "Afraid of my mother's brother?"
"Have you seen what gifts we've brought?" he asked.
"Sweetwater and sourwater," she said.
Lelouch rolled his eyes. "Very clever. Perfumes and bedspirits are not proper gifts to Lord Dylar. I worry we may give insult."
"Then you should have brought something else."
"What, pray tell, should I have brought? Fish oil? Perhaps some snails for his table?" Lelouch ran his hands through his hair. "There is nothing else. I had hoped Uncle's venture would be more substantial."
"Sounds like you're crying over soured milk. It's done with," Kiren said.
"You could show a bit more concern. It's only the future of our house at stake. The House, might I add, that will pay for your dowry."
Kiren snorted. "I pity the woman that weds you. You're broody enough for two people. Shall I look sullen beside you so you'll feel better?"
"Kiren!"
"Eep!"
Aunt Eunice appeared on deck, features schooled into a stern face. "That's no way for you to speak. No pleasant songs are sung for a lady's sharp tongue."
"Yes, Mother," Kiren said.
Lelouch interjected as Aunt Eunice's lips parted once more. "You grew up here, Aunt, perhaps you could tell us of these lands?" Much as he enjoyed witnessing Kiren's woe, there'd be no end of opportunities for it later. Now was the season for borrowed knowledge.
They made port at Amblesea, a modest city that straddled the mouth of the Wendwater River. House Creek, the leal vassals of Lord Dylar, received them at Fordholde.
Driftmark had no surplus of stallions, and even if it did, it was still cheaper by far just to rent Creek horse than bring their own for a trip of this distance.
Well, rent wasn't quite the right description for what occurred given no coin changed hands. Far too mercantile a transaction for the tastes of highborn, and many more steps needed in between. Though perhaps there was wisdom to the ceremony of it all. When merchants disagreed, contracts were torn. When nobles disagreed, the world was.
The Creeks offered bread and salt and the Velaryons answered with heartfelt thanks. Lelouch praised the valor of their men and the beauty of their daughters. He drank their wine, ate their food, listened to their tales, and laughed or clapped as appropriate. Come the morrow, he presented a gilded hunting knife and a lesser bottle of sweetwater to the Lord and Lady Creek. In turn, the Creeks provided them and their retinue horse and a proper escort through the kingswood.
Kind words and shared meals and tall tales in place of haggling. Essosi goods for Westerosi services.
Between the Velaryon men-at-arms and the Creek knights, there were thirty bodies between Lelouch and the dangers lurking within the kingswood. A formidable force and a dangerous deterrent to any foe of lesser means.
If war broke out, Lelouch mused, a company of mounted men riding hard could make the trip in three days. It took them twice as many days with a carriage, resting at inns in the evening. With an attachment of foot, it might take twice more—thrice with mud and poor weather. The well-trodden dirt trails that passed for roads wouldn't be able to handle the hundreds of feet and hooves.
Finally, finally, the seahorse banner arrived at Waterflow Keep.
It was a stout holdfast, situated on the north bank of where the Wendwater branched into two. The treeline was kept at a distance to ensure men on its walls could spot threats from afar. But there was no shortage of trees for siegeworks. No well inside either. A camp could be set upstream, their refuse inflicting ill things on the men inside.
"Continuing southwest would lead us to the kingsroad and Wendwater Bridge," said Aunt Eunice as their party passed through the portcullis.
Unlike with the Creeks, Lelouch offered his gifts on the first night they supped. The Wendwaters were neither so much lesser to be dismissed, nor so much greater to be grovelled before.
"We appreciate the thought behind these," said Lady Haera.
Not fine gifts, not good gifts, not even a "we appreciate these gifts". It was the thought behind these gifts that were worthy of even the slightest consideration to her.
Lelouch forced out a smile.
Some men might say it is the thought that matters, as if good intentions and prayers could stand on their own, as if these had ever solved anything. Absolute horseshit.
It was the closest thing to a slap in the face she could've offered without crossing the line of social pariah.
He knew it. She knew it. Everyone in the dining hall with half a brain knew it. "You're most welcome, Lady Haera. It's only fitting for the abundant hospitality you've shown us," said Lelouch, quick as you can.
If this bitch wanted to play with the daggers behind smiles, Lelouch was happy to humor her. There was not a game in the world he could not master. Change the board and the pieces; change the rules and the speeches.
War remained the same.
"Nothing could be more appropriate for so esteemed a house as the Velaryon!" Haera said.
"Your honor us too highly, my lady. My family is nothing more than humble servants of House Targaryen. Since the time of my grandfather's grandfather, Corlys the Sea Snake, we have served at the king's pleasure as master of ships and Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet. I hope to be the seventh of my line to hold this post unbroken," Lelouch said. "But that's enough about me, my lady. I'm curious to know more about your family. Your father is Lord Errol of Haystack Hall, is he not?"
"He is," Haera said stiffly, and began another conversation with Aunt Eunice besides her. After all, what did her family have to offer? No posts in the Small Council, no royal marriages, not even ties to their Lord Paramount.
What fine showing after two and a half centuries!
Wordplay was a delicate dance of barbed words veiled behind empty praise. Double meanings and insinuation were your weapons. Never shatter the lie of noble society with visible hostility. Never say anything that could be used to bury you. Never ever back down once you've committed.
Haera aside, one would think the Wendwaters were sevenfold larger by their high voices and higher spirits. Herwyn sang like an angel. Ilyn howled at every joke. Janna held enough stories in her for weeks, and Kiren, youngest of Wendwater blood, soaked it all in like a sponge.
Nothing at all like dour Aunt Eunice. Either island life or Uncle's infidelity had ruined her disposition.
-ZeroRequiem-
Ser Rolan Redmoore was the monster-at-arms.
The two-handed greatsword crashed squarely into his shield, and his arm trembled. Blunted edges, my ass, Lelouch thought, eyeing the bastard warily as Herwyn and Ilyn hollered from the sides. Another blow like that will carve my chest in.
"You know what we—" Redmoore swung wide, "—need?"
"A break?" Lelouch asked.
Redmoore ignored him. "A proper war. Realm's been at peace long as I can remember. Last one we had was the Fourth Blackfyre 'Rebellion', if you can call it that." He spat. "That son of a whore died on me before I could get my sword properly bloodied up. No real war that."
"Peace is good for the realm, ser," Lelouch said.
"Fuck the realm. I'm bored."
Redmoore put a foot forward and began an overhead swing. His shield rose on instinct. Fake, Lelouch thought, and though he knew how this maneuver was countered, his body was too weak and too slow to keep up with his mind.
The dirt was soft beneath him. Lelouch blinked and saw Redmoore's grinning face looking down on him. A monster-at-arms neither because he mastered mace, hammer, sword, and fist, nor for his brutish form and lack of morals.
"You alright down there, Seahorse?"
Lelouch nodded.
He let out a breath. "Pity that. Thought I'd have broken a rib or two by now. Up on your feet. We've got plenty of time 'til lunch."
No, Redmoore just enjoyed human misery, and doubly so when he was the cause.
-ZeroRequiem-
After lunch, Lord Dylar bid Lelouch to join him in his solar. The Lord Wendwater fixed him with a look, though Lelouch would not break the silence first. "You're here for my wood," Dylar said after a minute of silence. "No need to play coy with. That's all anyone wants."
"As you say, my lord," Lelouch said. "My lord father has given me leave to treat with you on my own."
"That is a great deal of trust for someone so young. He must hold you in high regard."
"I couldn't possibly say," Lelouch said. "Perhaps he wants me to fail so that I might cease pestering him."
Lord Dylar frowned. "No father wants their son to fail. Unfortunately, fail you might." He held up a hand to forestall his protests. "Would that I could, but these woods have become unsafe as of late. A band of thieves and villains calling themselves the Kingswood Brotherhood have taken a liking to my lands. With the conditions as they are, I cannot in good conscience send out my people to cut timber."
"Mere bandits? Surely they'd be no match for against the steel of a knight. Ser Redmoore is blessed by the Warrior, and you have a good retinue of men in your service."
"It's finding these scoundrels that's proven difficult," Dylar said. "They will set themselves upon travellers and melt away into the forest at the first sign of trouble. Men scouring the woods either end up dead, or find nothing but bitter air."
Lelouch leaned into his seat. "You'll find them in due time, I'm sure. A delay in shipment, while unfortunate, would be understandable."
"I have not raised my house by counting my oaks 'fore they've grown, Lelouch. I am no merchant to strike bargains I cannot keep," Dylar said. "When a Wendwater gives his word, it is done. Come heaven or hell."
"If these bandits were to be dealt with…"
Dylar's brows wrinkled. "I cannot guarantee that."
"I beg you to indulge me. If these bandits were to disappear, would there be anything else to hold us back from an agreement, in principle?" Lelouch asked.
"No," Dylar said.
So he only had to catch these outlaws without breaching Lord Dylar's ancient rights as Lord of Wendwater. No razing. No raping. No looting or wanton slaughter of smallfolk.
At least not by Velaryon men, Lelouch thought as he exited the solar. "Ser Redmoore," he called out as he spotted the hulking man stalk down the corridor, "how do you feel about violence?"
"Best feeling in the world."
-ZeroRequiem-
"Lord Dylar, I thought I might go hunting," Lelouch said. "We don't have game in Driftmark quite like yours."
"Only the king may hunt in the kingswood," Dylar said, "though you're welcome to our own forests."
"Much appreciated, my lord. I will make certain not to kill anything in the kingswood. Perhaps your maester could show me a map of the area? Just so I know where it is safe."
-ZeroRequiem-
Kiren crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at me. "You're up to something."
"When am I not up to something?" Lelouch asked.
"You've never hunted in your life," Kiren said.
"Rabbits and the occasional bird."
"You hate archery."
Lelouch dusted something off his shoulder. "Less than the sword, if I'm being honest. Less chance of getting blood on my clothes."
"I saw you hand the kitchen boy some coppers."
"Yes." Lelouch nodded solemnly. "It's all part of my dastardly plan to poison Lord Dylar's mead. Lord Dylar, whose castle I'm in, whose master-at-arms beats me black and blue each day, whose men outnumber mine own five-to-one, and whose wood I'm trying to purchase. Surely nothing could go wrong with this."
"Lord Dylar doesn't drink mead," Kiren said.
"Oh woe is me. My best laid plans are foiled."
She rolled her eyes. "Just try not to get yourself killed. Before you earn your great fortune that is. Someone has to pay for my wedding dowry."
He put on an offended face. "Is that all I am to you?"
"It's all you're good for, Lelouch."
-ZeroRequiem-
"The things I do for my family," Lelouch said with a heavy sigh. He dragged Hughes out of bed before the crack of dawn, dressed in the worst clothes of the kitchen boy. For good measure, he poked a few holes in it with his knife and cut off a sleeve.
"You hate waking up early, my lord," Hughes said.
"Yes, but so do Father's knights."
The guards at the gate stopped them. "Lord Lelouch? Is that you."
"It is," Lelouch said.
The pair of guards shared a look. "Pardon me for asking, my lord, but what are you up to at this hour dressed as you are?"
"Lady Janna's been regaling me with these tales about Fairmeadow Heights. Finest sunrise in Westeros, she claims." Not a whole lie, just that he hadn't been the intended audience. "I thought I'd go see for myself if there was any truth to the matter. As for the clothes, well, I've heard it's quite the hike. Wouldn't be proper to get my fineries dirty so early in the day."
"Will you need an escort, my lord?" the other asked.
"I'm certain it'll be fine. My man Hughes here is quite handy with a spear," Lelouch said.
"But… he's carrying a sword, my lord."
Lelouch glanced at him. "Hmm. So he is. How do you fare with a sword, Hughes?"
"Stick the pointy bit in the other man's soft bits." Hughes grunted. "Will this take much longer? Any more delays and we may very well miss dawn. I'll be cross if I have to do this again on the morrow."
The portcullis rose. "Expect us back by lunch," Lelouch called out. That ought to give them enough of a head start.
Once they passed from sight, Lelouch knelt down to smear some dirt on his face and slipped the knife into his sleeves.
"What's all this for?" Hughes asked.
"To keep them from looking at my eyes. Lots of boys with black hair, not a lot with purple eyes," Lelouch said. "If anyone asks on the road, pat my shoulder and say I'm your son."
Hughes paused. "We're not going to that hill, are we?"
"It's like you don't know me, Hughes."
The Maester had been kind enough to show him where each attack had occurred in the past year. Putting it all down on a map helped cut down the number of villages the bandits could be hiding out at.
The first village they stopped at was a collection of backwater hovels that didn't even know they had a name. A kindly grandmother opened her doors to them for lunch, and wouldn't hear of payment when offered. "We don't oft have visits out here," she said.
"Because of the bandits?" Hughes asked.
She blinked. "Bandits? I dunno nothin' 'bout that. It's cuz there ain't any roads."
They lounged about the village for half an hour before leaving. "You can't fake that kind of honesty and in a village of fifty, a grandmother knows about everything," Lelouch explained. "Plus, I had a look at their feet."
"Their feet?"
"No shoes, not the good kind," he said, wiggling his toes. "It's only sensible to invest in a pair if you're going to do lots of walking, especially if you have the coin for it."
"You sure 'bout that?" Hughes asked. "They might just stash the stags somewhere."
Lelouch snorted. "It's not about the coin, it's about what you can buy with it."
"I don't know, my lord—"
"Someone could hear," Lelouch hissed.
"—it seems like you're putting a lot of trust in that big brain of yours, and I know how that story ends," Hughes finished.
"It's not my brain I trust, it's human nature. Greed is ever the downfall of men, excess ever their bane."
Their next stop was a place called Heides. Thankfully, it had an inn to stay at. Lelouch tugged at Hughes' sleeve. "I'm going to look around the village, Father."
"Uh…"
Lelouch glared for a split-second.
"Ahem, just be back before nightfall, Lyam," Hughes said, and went to speak with the innkeep about a room.
Nice touch with the name, Lelouch thought as he bounded up to a few boys that looked his sister's age. He was not so tall he could not pass off as a twelve-year-old. "Hullo, I'm Lyam! That's a nice lookin' stick you got there. Know how to use it?" He snatched his own from the ground.
The tallest boy loomed over him. "I am Ser Aegon, the Knight of Sevens! Here to get my wife from you First Men fucks!"
"I am Lyam Stark, King of the North! Hear me roar!"
"Tha's Lannister words, not Stark," "Aegon" said.
"Shut it! Me mum taught me that and I'll whip any o' yuh who say elsewise," Lelouch said, mustering a proper look of indignation.
So it began. He scored a few hits, and let Aegon get his licks in. The other boy was stronger, but lacked the technique to be a real threat if they were serious. Just like that, they were fast friends within the hour and blood brothers before sundown.
"Learned anything?" Hughes asked later when they were alone.
"Plenty," Lelouch said. "Well done getting us a room on the second floor by the way."
"Seemed sensible to me. If we're on the lookout, height lets us see farther and I can barricade the staircase if we're found out."
If I were paying him, I'd give him a raise. Lelouch sat down on the bed and put up four fingers. "I've narrowed it down to Blondie, Longlegs, One-Ear, and Split-Lips."
Hughes barred the door. "Oh? How'd you figure that?"
"Blondie and Longlegs have big mouths. Boys like bragging about what their fathers buy. One-Ear still has a bandage on, doesn't look like a clean cut," Lelouch said.
"A battle scar," Hughes said. "And Split-Lips?"
"Best friend of Blondie's dad."
"That's it?"
"If one's in on it, the other is as well," Lelouch said.
"But how can you be sure? These are real people we're about to hurt," Hughes said.
Lelouch sat up. "Yes, thank you for reminding me. I'm well aware that the men I point to will die. I'm not sure of anything. All of this so far has been guesswork. Educated guesswork, but hardly the evidence Lord Dylar will take seriously."
"We could grab them at night."
"You and me against four grown men? I don't like our odds," Lelouch said. "No, we'll sit tight for two more days."
Hughes curled his lips. "What's happening in two days?"
"Ser Redmoore arrives," Lelouch said.
"So all that talk about a hunt—"
"A ruse," Lelouch said. "We could not be discovered before I'd found someone."
"We're damned lucky then. Three days isn't enough time," Hughes said.
"It is if you know where to look, generally speaking. I charted out where the attacks took place, and figured some ought to live here or one of the other villages we were supposed to visit," Lelouch said. "Ser Redmoore knows our route, and will follow along until he finds us."
"It wasn't a sure thing then?" Hughes glared. "Your father would've had my head if nothing came of this!"
"Father," Lelouch said, "will never hear of this. It's all accounted for. No, it wasn't a sure thing, but on the balance of probabilities? The odds were in our favor. I gambled, and I won. That's life."
Hughes banged his fist against the wall. "That's my life you're gambling with!"
Trust is the wager that takes your life. "Hughes… look, I'm sorry alright? I should have told you about the plan."
"Damn right you should have," Hughes said, sitting down.
"I won't risk your life like this again. Not without telling you first at least," Lelouch said. "You deserve that much for all the years we've worked together."
He nodded. "I'm… I'm sorry I lost my temper, my lord. It wasn't my place."
"Bygones. Are we good?"
"I still want to be a knight, don't I?"
"First fight we get into," Lelouch vowed.
-ZeroRequiem-
To defeat evil, I must become a greater evil.
Ser Redmoore came in the light of day atop his dusty charger, just according to plan. With him were the Velaryon retinue, and half the men at Waterflow Keep. They corralled the inhabitants by a well which was also the town center, Lelouch and Hughes included.
Redmoore walked up to them and looked him in the eye.
"M-my father's done nothing wrong, sir! Honest!" Lelouch said.
Redmoore blinked. "Say that again?"
"We're just honest smallfolk."
"Right. I'm going to enjoy this." He cracked his neck, then he punched Hughes square in the nose, sending blood flying. "Take him."
"Bastard!" Hughes howled. A pair of men surged forward to grab him.
Redmoore lifted Lelouch by the front of his shirt. Lelouch glanced meaningfully at One-Ear's house and was dropped unceremoniously back to the dirt. "Whose house is that!" Redmoore said, pointing. "Answer me quick, 'fore I put this whole village to the sword for breaking the king's law!"
"It's mine, good ser! I'm just a tailor!" One-Ear said.
"Tailor huh? Fancy clothes you're wearing."
"I make fancy clothes, ser."
"For others to wear," Redmoore said. "Never 'eard of a tailor that wears his own wares. How'd you lose that ear of yours?"
One-Ear didn't answer.
"Tailor," he spat out. "Pig shit. Stay right here. Boy, with me!" Redmoore walked up to the door and kicked it open. Lelouch scurried after him inside and shut the door behind them. "So what was all that for?"
Lelouch walked carefully about, listening to the squeaks with every step. "Lelouch Velaryon was never here, only Lyam No-Name. You found Lelouch Velaryon somewhere in the kingswood. Stopped by this village on the way back, and noticed something odd about the men and decided to investigate."
"No one'll buy that. I have nearly forty men outside who'll say otherwise," Redmoore said, crossing his arms across his chest.
"If you say that's what happened, and I say that's what happened, and my men say that's what happened, then that is what happened, Ser Redmoore. Now, cut this plank up will you?" Lelouch said, stepping aside.
Redmoore drew his sword and carved up the wood. "Well, I'll be. Lots of gold for a tailor."
Lelouch grinned. "We have them by the balls."
"One man, one pair of balls," Redmoore corrected.
"You lack imagination, ser. Show the villagers the sack of gold and say this…"
Redmoore barged out the door, the coins inside the sack jingling loudly. He threw it open on the dirt for everyone to see. "Twenty gold dragons by my count. No tailor I know of earns that much in a year. This whole village doesn't earn that in a year." Redmoore stepped up close to One-Ear and screamed, "I'm a fookin' knight of Lord Wendwater and I don't have ten bleeding dragons to my name!"
He turned his eyes to the rest of them. "Does anyone doubt this man's guilt from the evidence gathered?"
No answer.
"Come on, you thieving scum. Let's see what secrets you'll squeal." He broke under torture in less than an hour and named two more men guilty: Blondie and Split-Lips. They searched Longlegs' home as well, but found nothing to pin on the man after turning it upside down. He was let off with a warning.
Meryl (Blondie) and Dresh (Split-Lips) weren't so lucky. Lelouch had them bound and placed in two other houses, not enough to hear the other, but certainly close enough to hear One-Ear scream. The problem, of course, was that the testimony of a man who'd been tortured wouldn't hold up, and there were Seven knows how many other men in how many other places committing how many other crimes. Another guard dragged Lelouch along and pretended to interrogate them, while he did the real talking.
"That smells delicious," Lelouch said, sniffing around the kitchen. "Is that stew? I love stew. Warm, simple, hearty. And it goes great with rye."
He set the food on the table and sat across Dresh. "You mind if I eat while we talk?"
Dresh scrunched his brows and shook his head. That was no good.
"Hmm, needs some salt. Be right back." Lelouch stood up.
"I've not done nothin', m'lord!" Dresh said.
There we go, Lelouch thought, grabbing a small jar from the kitchen table and adding a dash of it in the pottage. "Tasty. Oh, where are my manners. Would you like some of this?"
"No, m'lord."
"More for me, Dresh. That is how you say your name right? I couldn't quite understand Meryl while he was stuffing his face," Lelouch said, taking his time to enjoy the pottage. "Listen, I'm setting down my knife right here so we can talk. Just talk. Nod if you understand?"
Dresh nodded.
"Your best friend in the other house, he mentioned you were the Bride's Knight at his wedding," Lelouch said. He hadn't spoken to the man yet, but it seemed a fair assumption given they were best friends. At Dresh's nod, he continued, "This wedding, when did it take place?"
"Nearly eight years ago," Dresh said.
"Awfully young of them," Lelouch said. "Meryl must've been fifteen at the time?"
"Fourteen and a half," Dresh said, and in a quieter one, "and Lysa was only thirteen."
"Did they marry for love?" Lelouch asked, and knew that they did not. Even smallfolk had their matches arranged by their parents to better their lot in life. Marrying for love was a shared delusion, for lords thought it the privilege of the smallfolk, and the smallfolk thought it the privilege of lords.
Dresh shook his head. "His parents paid a great dowry for her."
"He has a son, doesn't he? Blond, a bit pudgy."
"Jerrik," Dresh said, "and a daughter named Jeyne, after Lysa's mother."
He peered outside the window. "Which one's Jeyne?"
"A wee thing. Brown-haired like Lysa. Used to tell Meryl she had my eyes and nose as a joke." He chuckled.
"You seem like a good man." Lelouch turned to one of the guards. "Cut him loose when we leave."
"Thank you, m'lord!"
"I just hate it when women cry," he muttered loudly. "You should break the news to her, Dresh."
"Pardon, m'lord? What news?" Dresh asked.
"Her husband's facing the gallows. She should have someone to hold her in these regretful times," Lelouch said, and whispered instructions to the guards.
Meryl was next. Lelouch looked him up and down. "Hm."
"Something wrong, m'lord?"
"Your nose is. Eyes too. They're off."
"Off?"
He ignored the question. "Let me be straight with you. I don't need two living men to tell me the same thing when one will do."
"Don't you mean three men?" Meryl asked.
"Oh, One-Ear's a dead man already. He just doesn't know it yet," Lelouch said.
"His name's Erik."
Lelouch scratched his chin. "I don't care to know the name of a dead man."
Another scream.
"You know, there are two types of pain in this world. Useful pain: the thing you can heal and learn from like heartbreak, or a broken arm." Lelouch fixed him with a stare and didn't continue.
"What's the other type?" Meryl asked.
His smile crept up slow. "Useless pain, like poison or a pierced gut. The sort of thing you can't come back from, not unlike Ser Redmoore. Now him, he's a man that enjoys inflicting pain. Loves it more than wine or food or a good lay. An unusual vice. Do you suppose he gets many chances to express it?"
"N-no, m'lord. I can't imagine Lord Wendwater would l-let him."
"I imagine he's gotten very, very good at drawing it out. Really get his worth from someone," Lelouch said.
Meryl swallowed.
"It's a cruel world we live in. They have this saying where I'm from: Trust is the wager that ends your life," Lelouch said, stopping by the window. The screaming stopped. "You get so used to the noise and when it stops, the world just feels emptier all of a sudden."
"I know what you're doing," Meryl said, putting on a brave face. "You're tryin' to scare me into confessing!"
Lelouch laughed. "I already have the confession I need. Bring him here by the window."
"Dresh wouldn't say nuthin'," Meryl said.
"Why? Because he was the Bride's Knight at your wedding?" He pointed outside and Meryl's eyes followed the action involuntarily to Lysa and Dresh embracing. "He didn't approve of your marriage to Lysa, and I get the feeling it's not because of his feelings for you."
Meryl's eyes widened.
The heart's whisper is a treacherous knife. "I've had a look at the children. Jerrik's the spitting image of you. Strange that Jeyne has her mother's hair, but Dresh's eyes and nose." Lelouch snapped his fingers. "That's what I found off about you. Your daughter doesn't have your eyes and nose." His mouth made an 'O'. "Your daughter's not your daughter, is she?" He gave voice to that most treacherous of beings called the heart.
"Do you suppose he'll marry Lysa once you're gone?" Lelouch asked. "Now Jeyne I know he'll take care of. What about Jerrik though? No man wants to raise his wife's child by another."
"Stop!" he screamed, tears pooling in his eyes. "Stop it. I'll talk. I'll tell you what you want. I'll tell you everything."
"Start with a public confession. Then I want the names of everyone in your brotherhood, where they live, and the worst crimes they've committed."
-ZeroRequiem-
"Meryl of Heides, do you confess to the crime of theft?" Redmoore asked.
"I confess to my crimes," Meryl said. "And I name Dresh a thief and a rapist."
"Two witnesses have named your crimes, Dresh. Plus all that silver we found hidden under your bed. Terrible hiding spot, that." Redmoore grinned. "Do any here think the proof insufficient?"
No answer.
"You might earn your lord's mercy still, Dresh. Name your brothers, and you may yet live."
It really was as simple as that. Lord Wendwater joined us soon after and it took three more days to round everyone up. The worst of them, those who'd murdered or raped or harmed a highborn, were hanged without exception.
As for the forty two men guilty only of theft?
"If it were up to me I'd hang the lot of you," Redmoore said, "but Lord Wendwater is merciful. Five among you are to be put to death."
"Will we draw straws, ser?"
"We're in the realm of men, so men will choose. Each man will name a man, and the one named most wins death," Redmoore said. "Be quick about it. You have ten minutes."
Thirty-seven stoned five. Thirty-seven buried five. Thirty-seven were branded for life, the thief's mark on their forehead.
"Now listen here worms," Redmoore said. "We know who you are now. We know where to find you. We know your wives, and your sisters, and your children. If there's trouble, we'll come looking."
"W-what if it's not us, m'lord?"
"We'll come looking anyway, and you'd better have names for us," Redmoore said. "Tell your friends."
The men were in high spirits on the march back. No doubt they'd have to go on fewer patrols if crime dropped.
Redmoore was happy for entirely different reasons. "This is a good week," he said. "Hanged sixteen men, stabbed another three, and watch five get stoned."
"And you've brought peace to Wendwater after a year. Quite the feat," Lelouch said.
"Meh. I can take it or leave it." And he rode off.
"I mean no insult when I say this, but you missed your calling in life heading a mummer's troupe," Lord Dylar said.
"I'm pleased that you think so highly of me, my lord, though I couldn't possibly know what for," Lelouch said.
"If I ordered Redmoore to deal with this, his solution would be to burn down the whole forest and everyone in it." Lord Dylar wiped the sweat off his brow. "He's a blunt tool with no sense for plots and a good killer. That's why he's my master-at-arms and not Mortimer Creek or one of the Glade brothers."
"Well, while I have your ear, Lord Dylar, there's a few things I'd like to discuss," Lelouch said. "I've never seen my aunt Eunice smile so many time in a single day until we arrived. Mayhaps some more time here will do her some good? I admit, life on Driftmark can get rather dreary."
Dylar bobbed his head. "It would give her a chance to get to know her other nephews and nieces."
"Family is important," Lelouch said. "And it'd be cruel and unusual to leave Aunt Eunice here without Kiren. She is her daughter." Uncle's family seemed truly happy here, and it'd spare them the pain of his indiscretions. If it stopped Father from hearing what had occurred, well, that was just secondary.
"Agreed."
"Now, I can't help but notice there's a curious lack of criminals now. Perhaps we could return to our previous discussion? After all, when a Wendwater gives his word, it is done." Lelouch said.
"Come heaven or hell. Aye, you'll have your wood. We both know what we both know."
Lelouch tilted his head. "The maesters would call that tautology."
The rest was just terms.
-ZeroRequiem-
One last loose end.
Lord Dylar was kind enough to provide him his first shipment of timber. The smallfolk had felled the trees, then tied them together into a raft which they rode out to sea. Lelouch imagined that to a bird, it must look like a giant snake of wood coursing down the Wendwater.
Lelouch turned to address the Velaryon men. "We will speak no more of this past Amblesea. You will tell Father and Mother that we succeeded without incident. Lady Eunice and Lady Kiren wished to spend more time with family, and we obliged. There was no hunt in the kingswood, and I was always at Waterflow Keep or with Lord Dylar."
"What of the bandits?"
"What of them? Ser Redmoore valiantly cleared away the cur, and asked if you might want to join him in breaking some arms in the spirit of friendship," Lelouch said.
"We'd be lying to our Lord," Ser Goodchair said.
"Lie is such an indelicate word, ser. It is an alternative narrative." Lelouch narrowed his eyes. "Do not fool yourselves into thinking you have a choice in this matter. Tell Father of my adventures, and the whole truth will come out. Four knights and five men-at-arms could not keep proper watch over a boy, while inside a keep! You should count yourselves lucky if he merely strips you of your lands and titles."
"Not to mention," he continued, "that the whole expedition will be cancelled. There will be no more gold or glory to be had. The way I see it, you can recount how you helped enforce the king's justice to the maidens back home and earn a bit more coin along the way, or you can choose disgrace and exile. Make your choice."
"Choice, my lord?" Ser Goodchair said. "What choice? After all, nothing of note occurred other than your excellent diplomacy."