Part 52

Greza sat on a log next to Tempest as engineers threw up a pontoon bridge.  The Imperials had destroyed the wooden bridge to slow them down.  It was a minor inconvenience at most.   

Tempest was carving something from a thick branch he picked up from the ground.  He was relaxed.  They were all too relaxed.

“We haven’t seen a single Imperial soldier.  Why aren’t they harassing us: attacking our baggage train?”  She asked.

“Because they have no experience at war.  They’re probably still trying to agree on a plan.”

They couldn’t be that stupid.

Tempest chuckled and continued carving.  His fingers were agile and he carved like he could do it blindfolded.  How was he so dexterous with fingers so large?

“Do you think we’re going to win?” She asked.

“It’s possible.”

“Technically, almost anything’s possible. It takes a great deal to list something as impossible.”

“Then it’s probable.”

“Is it probable that the Duke’s the Promised Victor?”

“Possible, but not likely.”

She continued to watch the bridge being completed as Verin conversed with his generals.  Other pontoon bridges were being made further up stream.  Their combined armies were too large for one bridge.  They couldn’t spend all day filing across one narrow bridge. 

Onata came running up with two bowls of something steaming.

“Got lunch!”

She handed them each a bowl and Greza sniffed it.  It smelled good, but not like anything she had ever had.  She sniffed it a few more times and looked up to Onata.

“It’s some southern food.  I don’t know what it is.  Just eat it,” Onata said.

She took a bite and it tasted as good as it smelled, but it made her mouth tingle almost like it was hot. 

“Caranum spice.  Love it,” Tempest said. 

Greza then saw movement off to the side of the camp.  Two scouts on horseback came riding up to Duke Verin.

“Looks like they found something,” Tempest said. 

She watched the scouts dismount and begin talking with wild gestures. 

“Definitely found something,” Onata said.

Something always had to happen just as she was about to eat or go to sleep.  She quickly shoveled a few spoon-fulls into her mouth, quickly regretted it, and hurried over to where Verin stood with the scouts.  She looked for a water skin the whole way.  Whatever that spice was, was delicious, but painful. 

Verin watched them approach with cold look in his eyes that she had never seen.

“You alright, Grez?”  He asked, but he continued on before she could answer. “They found a manor a few miles from here.  Ride with me.”

Before they could find out more he was already heading for his horse.  They had no choice but to mount up as well.  Tempest and two dozen cavalry went with them. Tempest rode in a wagon with crossbow men in the back.

When they reached the manor she saw that several scouts were already there.  Some were guarding what were obviously the owners of the estate.  They were finely dressed elves and they were kneeling on the ground with their hands on their heads.  Other scouts were keeping guard while people dressed as slaves were carrying furniture, paintings and other valuables out of the mansion.  Some slaves were breaking windows and smashing vases on the front lawn. 

“What is this?”  Greza asked, but no one answered. 

Verin dismounted and walked over to the five noble prisoners.  He had his hands on his sword belt and looked down at them.  There was a middle age woman, two teenage boys, (probably her sons) and a girl that looked about ten or eleven.  They all had the same silvery hair and silver eyes.   

“Why are you doing this?”  The mother asked.

“Please don’t hurt us,” the girl whimpered. 

Verin didn’t say anything for a few moments.  He stared down at them until they looked away. 

“Your property is forfeit.  It all belongs to what used to be your slaves,” Verin said.

“And us?”  The woman asked, fixing her gaze at Verin.

“You also will belong to your former slaves. I don’t imagine they’ll treat you with more kindness than you treated them.”

The girl began crying.

Greza had thought about this moment for a long time.  She had wondered what she would do if she were suddenly the master over her former owners.  Vengeance was usually the first thing she thought of.  She thought of the slaves that killed each other for amusement and the ones that found themselves mysteriously pregnant with babies that had remarkable similarities to their masters. 

They deserved to be punished, absolutely, but handing them over to a mob wasn’t justice: it was vengeance and nothing more.

She looked down at the two boys and the young girl.  They were wide eyed and shaking.  They couldn’t keep their eyes off of their home being destroyed by their former slaves.  Their world was being torn apart in front of them and they probably didn’t understand it at all. 

Did they deserve this?  What would happen to them once turned over to their slaves?  What would happen to the girl?  Greza could imagine it too well. 

Perhaps they did deserve this, but something didn’t feel right about it. 

“Verin,” she said. 

He didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her.

“Verin!”

He looked over and she saw the cold look in his eyes.

“Verin, can I talk to you in private?”

He nodded and they walked a little ways off and stood under a bushy tree covered in blossoms. 

“Isn’t this wonderful?”  He asked.

“This isn’t right.”

“How so?”

She waved her hand to indicated all the chaos.

“This isn’t right.  This is vengeance, not justice.”

“So?”

“They’ll tear these people apart and if they live, they’ll be left with nothing.”

“Sounds fair. But can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to punish your former masters?”

“I do, very much so, but not like this.”

He folded his arms and looked out at the manor with the looting slaves and the noble captives. 

“They all deserve to be punished, Grez.  They deserve worse than this.”

“Do you really want to be known as the man that sacked the Empire and killed its civilians?  I thought we were above them.  Right now you’re no different from the people that kept me as property.”

She shot an angry look to her.  She didn’t turn away. 

Then he let out a long sign and shook his head.  When he looked back to her he had a smile. 

“That’s why I keep you close to me,” he said and then turned and walked back to where the captives were. 

Verin stopped the looting, made the slaves leave with as much as they could carry and let the nobles go.  There would be no prisoners, no house burnings and no looting.  Their army would take supplies and such, but nothing else.

As they road back to camp she leaned over and whispered to him.

“Thank you.”

“I need a good kick in the face once in a while.  Who better to give it than you?”

“Tempest, maybe.”

“He might be the one person that could take you down, Grez.”

She looked back at the hairy, horned giant.  The minotaur was all muscle and was surrounded by an air of raw power, like an approaching black storm.  She didn’t see how she could possibly take him down. 

“You’re probably right about that.”