Edgarth’s heart drummed in his chest and he felt like he’d pass out at the next instant. He needed to sit down for a moment. The bed was the first thing he considered, but he immediately discarded the notion after recalling what had just transpired there a few moments ago.
The edge of the mattress was still wet from where the whore had been sitting. Not only that, but it was also stained with various dry marks. He’d rather sit on the floor than in that.
Fortunately, there were a couple of chairs next to a door that he guessed led to the bathroom. Edgarth could only imagine what sort of other perversions it had been used for, but at least it looked clean, and he couldn’t remain standing for much longer.
It felt like his old body sighed relief after he sat down. It was amazing how much his failure of a grandson could make him angry.
If there was one good thing to be said about Jacke, then it was that the fool would never be inheriting anything. Still, this also meant that he had a lot more free time to bring shame to the family’s name. Never qualifying to a single King’s Tourney, or being heavily wounded by some half-bred boy for example. All of this reflected poorly on the family name, besides detracting from what was truly important at this time.
The eunuch Vasilis seemed to be at the brink of having his wish fulfilled: Deposing a noble ruler with the support of another one.
Earl Hagen was a good ruler, and the same could be said about his liege, Duke Olsandre. Unfortunately, they were also both young and, as such, idealistic, which was why they both seemed set on deposing earl Skanler. Sure, Rass Skanler was a terrible ruler, but he wasn’t the first, and neither would he be the last.
Supporting a commoner’s rebellion was the worst way to deal with such a situation. If it failed, then it would leave a stain on the reputation of all who take part. Succeeding would be even worse though, as it sent a message to every lowborn that it was possible to get whatever they want by rising up in arms. It wouldn’t be long until other such rebellions cropped up mirroring Vasilis’ example if he had his way.
Edgarth caught movement on the edge of his vision. He turned towards it and was surprised to find a tall man standing at the door.
No, not a man. His young face made it clear that he was still a boy at sixteen, maybe seventeen years of age. Dressed in simple clothes, the boy had a broom on one hand and a wiping cloth on the other. He had copper-colored eyes, but his light brown skin gave away his identity as a half-bred.
The half-bred boy looked surprised to see Edgarth sitting there. “I-I’m sorry, my lord,” he said with a hurried bow of the head. “I didn’t know there was someone still here.” The boy kept his head down, seemingly waiting for approval to lift it again. At least he knew how to behave in front of a noble.
“You can raise your head, boy.”
“Thank you, my lord. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I’ll come back later.” The boy made to leave.
“Just do what you came here to do. I don’t plan on staying in this damned place for much longer.”
The boy paused, unsure of what to do but ultimately coming inside. With quick and silent steps, he opened a drawer from a wardrobe in the corner, pulled out fresh new sheets, and proceeded to make the bed.
Edgarth wished to hurry up and get out of this place, but he still felt somewhat lightheaded. Deciding to make use of this time, he resolved to try and find out more about this brothel’s madam. “What’s your name, boy?”
The boy turned his head towards Edgarth, but his gaze remained glued to the floor. “Kay, my lord.”
“Kay, how long have you been working for the madam here? And what can you tell me about her?”
“Most of my life, my lord. My mother didn’t want me, but fortunately the madam took me in when I was still a baby. She gave me a roof to live under, with three meals a day on top of that. All she asks in return is that I earn my pay.”
The start of the story wasn’t all too uncommon to Edgarth. Many half-bred children were abandoned soon after birth by their slave mothers, never acknowledged by their white fathers. Just a symptom of another crisis waiting to blow up.
More than two decades ago, crown prince Louis of Lisbleus marched south to the deserts in search of a fabled land that could supposedly be used to speed up the cultivation process. He hoped to use it to create more soldiers so that the northern kingdoms could stand against the Solisian Empire. Against all expectations, the place turned out to be real, and, in his own honor, he named it “La Louisiane.”
While the discovery itself had already been a large boon to all northern kingdoms, the expedition also brought about something else of great importance: the subjugation and consequent slavery of the desert people.
Seen as an alternative, cheaper option to regular workers, the slave population increased with each passing year. Arriving through large cargo ships or extensive foot caravans, under heavy sun and even heavier whips, these blacks were on their way to becoming an essential part of the economy. What would happen when they all realized that?
A slave revolt had the potential to spread like wildfire, leaving the northern kingdoms in chaos. They would be defeated, eventually, but not without cost. Not without leaving the kingdoms weakened. Weak enough that the Solisian Empire may attempt an invasion.
Louis’ expedition may have both saved and doomed the northern kingdoms.
But that was a problem that Edgarth could do nothing about. He was already old. When such an eventual revolt happened, he’d be long buried on the ground.
With a heave, he stood up from his chair, and the boy unwittingly stepped back. “And does the madam receives many visitors?”
Kay shook his head. “Not really.” He circled around Edgarth to wipe the chair he’d been sitting at. “People are getting nervous because of the coming war, so we’ve been getting a lot more clients lately, but no one really looks for her all that much other than one of the guard’s captains.”
One of the city guard’s captain. That gave Edgarth something to work on at least. “Yes, it does seem like there’s no way of stopping this war from happening,” he said, resignedly, before turning towards the door.
“That’s where I disagree, my lord,” the boy spoke from behind Edgarth, his tone somewhat unsettling.
Edgarth was about to ask what he meant when the muted sound of metal sliding over leather caught his attention. Alarmed, he tried to turn around, but a blow to the back of the knee brought him down.
Before he could emit a sound, the boy wrapped an arm around his neck. He struggled to free himself, but the half-bred’s arm barely budged. The boy was a Crusader. A sharp pain on his back followed next. Then a second, a third, and a fourth time.
Edgarth’s strength began to slip away. When, for whatever reason, the boy released him, he fell forward to the ground.
“I’m very sorry, my lord.” The boy grabbed Edgarth by the shoulders and turned him face up. “It’s nothing against you.”
Edgarth tried to breathe, but even the air became too heavy for him to pull inside his lungs. His mind turned back to the brothel madam. Did she plan this? Was that why she showed no fear for him? “Why?” his voice came out in raspy breaths.
The boy walked towards the door to close it shut. He then returned and went down on one knee, his eyes seeming to take a darker color as he approached. “Again, it’s nothing against you. I may despise your grandson, but this right here is just a means to an end.”
A glimmer in his hands caught Edgarth’s attention. A rippled steel dagger dripping with blood. A large piece of sapphire served as a pommel, in the same fashion as the honour daggers stolen from Rass Skanler. “V-Vasilis.” Did that lowborn think that killing Edgarth would make his own life easier? Even he should know better than that.
The boy nodded his head at the mention of the name. “Yes, Vasilis is indeed the reason for this. Not in the way you might think though. He took someone very important from me. When they find your body later, everyone will blame him. All of his plans will have been for nothing, and he shall become one of the most wanted men in the kingdom.”
Edgarth wanted to cry out for someone, but only blood came out of his mouth. He should’ve asked his bodyguards to come up with him. Why did he come alone?
“Again, I’m very sorry for this, and also for prolonging your suffering. I just felt that you deserved to know the reason for your death.” He raised the dagger up high, its point aimed at Edgarth’s heart. “Goodbye, my lord.” He brought the blade down.
