by P. S. Power
The tall redheaded monarch was dressed in fine looking clothing, but noticed that everyone else had dressed down into various versions of what Dorgal and Gerent had on. After a moment he matched them, in a plain outfit of black, purple and gold. Count Peterson was the only one of them in real military black, but then, he was a general in the army, so had earned the right. The King could have done that too, but this day he was standing for himself, not the land. It made a difference.
His voice was smooth and deep as he addressed them.
"I expected more to attend this portion of things."
Count Peterson, his slightly red and brown beard looking wild and full, did the speaking for them.
"It was decided that having us all descend on the man might be a bit too close to taking pleasure in his passing. Turn it into a spectacle. We aren't trying to give offense, simply right wrongs and prevent more from happening." Then he bowed, but not to the King. To the dark man standing next to him.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that this would be the new Count Rodriguez then. The one that would have to take his own forces to war if they dishonored the old man without cause. Or possibly even if they had it.
There wasn't a lot of discussion as to who was going to say what, they were just lead by the group of guards, to the cell. If a private set of rooms in a lovely palace was a cell really. That was, he knew, partially his fault. The King made sure he understood that.
"We took the idea from your efforts after the attack on the city here a few years ago, Prince Gerent. When you acted as the Warden for the prisoners of war? Treating them kindly and seeing to their care, so that their fellows would know that we didn't intend them harm, if they came to us. Not that it was truly the case here, with Will, but appearances needed to be kept up."
As they got to the door, the Royal Guardsmen and women all pulled their weapons, but Gerent moved in, standing in front of them.
"Thank you, all of you. We have this from here. If he starts to escape, if you could make certain that doesn't happen? Otherwise, well, we have shields. Everyone?"
Count Harris and the new Rodriguez both needed them. They each had something, but they were old and didn't cover them from much. More than the prisoner could likely bring to bear, but that wasn't the point. Gerent had extra with him, carrying more than he needed, since he was taking people into space now. On the ship there was a tidy, but not too small, box of them. He had five with him, other than his own. It made for a lumpy pocket, but he didn't want to have Boxy out for this. He didn't need to see this kind of thing. He was an innocent, to be protected.
When they got in the Count was sitting up, having been lying on his bed. Naked. There was no particular reason for that, since he had clothing resting on the dressing table across the room. He clearly hadn't been expecting guests however. Gerent nodded at the man, and pulled out the cutter he intended to use on him, as well as a healing amulet. That would be needed, if they were going to do this right.
Without a word from anyone, or asking permission, he just walked over to the man, smiled, and cut his dick off in a single move. The big man realized what was happening about halfway through and jumped back, yelling, but it was still gone and his balls were half off, dangling toward the ground. He moved in and hit the man in the head, using his shield and left hand, which hurt more than a fist would, causing him to sprawl back on the giant bed.
Then he cleaned up his work, making the wound far more even with another cut, and healed the man, triggering the focus stone silhouette of Tor and holding it to his chest as he cried. A few minutes later the bleeding had stopped and the man was looking down at himself, sobbing still.
"Why? Why?" He kept on in that vein, rather annoyingly, until Count Peterson moved in and hit the man in the face, hard. That got silence, except for some rather pitiful moaning. It pulled at his heart, but he didn't let it rule him. The man deserved this.
The King spoke, his deep voice soft. Enough so the crying man had to stop to hear him, which he did. He grasped at his now naked hole, a healed place that would have let him pee, but nothing else. It was smooth, and unscarred, as if it was what the man had always had between his legs.
"You had your own betrothed, Petra Ward, raped and tortured. Did you think that was never going to come back on you? Even as you did it, you had to know that you couldn't survive such an act. No one could, and we can't allow that to happen. You've had what time we could give you. I hope you've found some peace, in the years you've sat here?"
The man grimaced and shook his head.
"I had her tortured, but didn't order her raped. That was Jimson, the Guard Captain. I... don't think he meant to disobey, I just hadn't been... Clear... Enough." There was sobbing, and clutching at himself still, but that was the point. He needed to know loss, before he died. It was important that he feel powerless, and like nothing would ever be right again, no matter how long he lived. To feel like Petra had.
Gerent took off his truth amulet and slapped it on the man, which had the King asking about Jimson and the rape again. It turned out that he really hadn't ordered that part. Just the rest.
Ger smiled, a soulless and very dark thing. It was bad enough so that the crying Count moved back, and crawled onto his bed, trying to get away.
"Good. We won't have to rape you then, if you didn't order it. Tell us, where can we find Jimson and the other guards? Don't bother lying, we don't have time for it."
He didn't really know, having been imprisoned for some time, but guessed that his heir would. Since the man was right there, it wasn't a problem.
Then, to his surprise, Tovey, his affable sort of brother in-law, stepped in and took the man's left arm, and broke it at the elbow as Rodriguez bellowed in pain. "County Thomson rebukes your acts."
Count Harris went next, pulling the man up and stomping his shin. It ripped the flesh from the front, thanks to his hard soled and heavy boot, but the main effect was the cracking of bone.
"County Harris rebukes your acts."
Count Peterson started to move in on the fellow's right hand, but Gerent cleared his throat. "Leave that one, will you?"
Without pause he repeated Harris action and took the other leg.
"County Peterson rebukes your actions." It was a bit different, but actually made more sense, from a dramatic perspective.
Dorgal and the King actually worked together, for both their lands, Vagus and Noram in solidarity, and broke the man's lower back, as he screamed. They rebuked him too.
That left Rodriguez, who didn't seem to know what to do. Gerent could see that.
"Count Rodriguez, do you rebuke the acts of your predecessor?" The King spoke gently, getting the idea.
"I do, Sire."
"Very well. Prince Gerent, you seem to have some kind of plan?" He waved at the unbroken and still functioning right arm and hand.
Without pause, Gerent stepped in and pressed the same cutter he'd used to unman the fellow into his remaining unwounded palm.
"It has a foot and a half blade on it. You-" The man tried to kill him with it, which seemed to upset everyone else, as if it were a scandal. Gerent just nodded.
"I did cut your boys off for you, so we can let that go. All of us have shields you can't do anything about. Now, if you run that across your throat, we'll make sure no one knows you were less than a man when we killed you. Not the common people at least. If I have to do it-"
Gerent had been going to claim that he was going to tell everyone about the man being a coward, but that wasn't needed. He waved the thing at his head, missing a bit at the neck, taking his jaw off as he lay on the bed not able to move, half propped up on his side. It was enough.
The man was dead, and had made a mess of things. It seemed a lifelong habit with him.
It was done.
This part at least.
Now they just had to find Jimson, and the others.
Find them and punish them hard enough that even in a rage, Count Ward would be satisfied. That was
going to take some work, Gerent feared. After all, he'd just helped torture a man, and didn't feel like it was enough himself, and Pet wasn't even his sister.
Chapter twelve
The tracking of Jimson and the other men was left to a combined group. Countess Printer led it, but it was Terlee, his adopted sister that was doing most of the investigative work. She was soft spoken, polite and clearly smarter than anyone had ever bothered to indicate to him. Not in Tim's league, maybe, but she was clear headed and figured out where the others were inside of about ten minutes. Some of them at least.
True, that part wasn't hard. The ones found were working around the Rodriguez Capital. Not in the same positions that they once held, since the men had been removed as guards, once the new Count took office, but they'd been considered good and sturdy people, so other nobles had hired them all pretty quickly. You didn't, it seemed, keep on the sworn men and women of the person you were replacing if they were found guilty of treason. There was too much risk that they might just still be working for the old leader.
That meant they had some trips to make. The first one was simple enough, since they loaded up all their conspirators, except for King Richard, and headed off to that far southern county directly. The place they wanted was called Barony Reves. The old man that ran it had hired two of the rapists, not knowing who they really were, other than potentially valuable assets. Finding the place wasn't exactly easy, but Tovey had a map that he shared with them, and so did Count Peterson. They matched, but weren't the same. Interestingly enough. The pictures were very similar however, so he was able to follow landmarks to the right spot, and flew them in personally. It didn't occur to him that he had a map of the place as well, on his communications device.
They weren't subtle about the landing. This wasn't being done in secret anymore, since most of the others felt that Marvin Ward would be fairly well mollified by what they'd done. It was only Dorgal that agreed with him really. His First Mate cleared his throat and looked at the assembled nobles, sitting in his chair on the main bridge, as they congratulated themselves quietly for a job well done. They weren't wrong, but it wasn't finished. Not even close.
He could see that, but the others didn't really.
Except Dorg.
"I know that this might seem old fashioned, but the rest of this is the important part, isn't it? Petra wasn't... harmed, by the old Count, but by these men, directly. They weren't ordered in to do it by him either. We know that now. That means we need to figure out how it happened and make them pay for it, in proper measure." He sighed and looked over at Tamerlane, the Countess Thomson, before going on. It seemed strange to Ger that he'd focus his attention there in particular, but he didn't break eye contact with the small and pale woman. "There are two jobs that need to be done here. Yes, making certain we protect the innocent. I... Don't know Count Ward personally, but I believe that he'd want the men that touched his sister not to be able to do that again. The other, perhaps more important task is seeing that Petra knows others stood for her. That we all made certain that these men can't come back and do it again. They never would, but that isn't the needed portion here." There were layers in the words, things that had probably taken a lot of deep thought to come to, that it was clear no one else really got.
Gerent however, understood. Count Peterson looked confused by the words, and so, he realized did most of the rest of them. Holly Printer less so than the others, because the idea of making these beasts pay just made sense to her, but it was the great bearded giant man that spoke, if a bit gruffly.
"They can't harm her again. I've seen her fight. If they hadn't taken her by treachery, they would have likely lost in the first place, even if there were twenty of them. She won't fear these men now." It was logical of course and probably true, to a large man that had always been coddled and then grew into a being so powerful that no one could force him to do anything he didn't want.
It wouldn't be right though.
Gerent looked at him and then away, focusing on the landing he needed to make, going slowly the whole time.
"Count Peterson... She wasn't in a fight with these men that they simply won. They used her, against her will. That scars people's minds, no matter how strong or powerful they are. Anyone that went through what she did would be afraid after the fact. That she isn't crippled by it shows that she's very strong, but don't confuse that with this not being harmful to her. It wasn't just the pain, or how they touched her, it was that they took her power away. Not forever, but that doesn't come back, once you know that it can be taken. After that point you always know that it can happen again. It colors everything you do, for a long time. Possibly forever." He looked out the shield glass on the front of the craft, and parked it in the air, hovering over the large mansion of Baron Reves. It was many times larger than the place below and he moved over a bit, so that the whole thing would be in shadow. On purpose. It got people to come out to see who was there, if nothing else.
The large Count didn't call him a liar, or a fool, but seemed oddly pensive suddenly. He might not have understood the feeling that Gerent spoke of, but he was bright enough to get that it might be something he just wasn't able to comprehend, without it being wrong. That took intelligence, being able to know that kind of thing.
Count Harris just watched Gerent closely, but didn't speak. When someone did, it turned out to be Tamerlane, her voice very still and soft.
"How are we getting down there? The craft we used earlier?"
He grinned, changing the mood. It would seem insane, he didn't doubt, but being too dark wasn't going to help anyone, was it?
"We can just step out. Everyone here knows how to fly, right? Using the new shields?" That turned out not to be the case, since Dorgal, Count Harris and Countess Callwood had no clue at all. That lady seemed particularly distressed by the idea of being near an open door that high up. It was only a few hundred feet, but Gerent didn't press the issue. If he had his way, she wouldn't be subjected to what was about to happen.
None of them would be, except him. A person so broken already that a little more wouldn't really do much harm.
Something interesting happened at the door however, which he formed in the wall of a small room down the hall, so that the others left behind wouldn't be afraid. That being mainly Countess Callwood, Erid and the crew. It was that, knowing how to fly or not, both Count Harris and Dorgal moved with the whole group, gamely enough. Tovey nodded to them, and ran over how the mental controls worked on the new flight systems. It wasn't hard to use, so they were all floating down to the ground, more or less, a few moments later. Count Harris plummeted a bit, but his eight foot plus frame slowed before he hit, and the shield took most of the punishment for him.
Dorgal matched the rest of them, his face set and outwardly calm.
When they landed, they were met by ten armed men, and an elderly Baron Reves, all of whom were nicely dressed, if not in official uniforms. They were at home and it was an isolated enough place that putting on airs here would just be wasted effort. It was surrounded by a lush green jungle, but other than his own people, no one lived this far out. A retirement villa, the new Count Rodriguez had called it.
Stepping forward instantly, the living Count Rodriguez bowed, if not that deeply. Gerent did it too, without thinking, which turned out to be the order of the day, as everyone else went along with it. That showed the Baron that they were at least not invading. Or if they were, that his own Count was leading them. That had to be reassuring, didn't it?
Count Rodriguez stood and looked at the guards. He spoke directly to the Baron however.
"Well met, Baron Reves. Bart. I have some... Some rather bad news. It seems that some of your men, two of them, were involved in the torture and rape of a Conserina about a year ago?"
Gerent nearly jumped when one of the men, a golden colored and hard looking one with blond hair and green eyes, stepped forward. There was no fear or hesitation. Just movement.
"That would be myself, a
nd Goings, sir. It was dark work, but ordered by the Count." He looked at Rodriguez and nodded a few times. "Your cousin, sir." He clarified for them, just in case anyone was confused.
That was it. They didn't have to hunt him through the fields or beg the Baron to let them interview the men. They just asked about it and both men came forward, as if it weren't a real issue.
Gerent thought he understood it. They didn't think it was, because to them, it had been ordered. They were sworn men and everyone knew that their leader was always responsible for their actions.
As long as they were doing what they were told. Without waiting he removed his Truth amulet and turned it on, then explained the concept to the men. The other nobles, the ones with him, all knew what it was, but these isolated guards and even the Baron seemed amazed by the idea. The old man just shook his head when he tried it, both lying on purpose and then telling the truth, so that the light would change.
After a bit he passed it to the first man to step forward, Tallis, who held it and repeated what he'd claimed, about it being an order from the Count at the time. It was honest, the pure white light and yellow stripes staying unbroken. He even added that he didn't take any real pleasure in the act itself, at the time, which was also true. The other man said the same, but it turned out that he had, on some level enjoyed using Petra. He was ashamed of it now, he allowed, which did seem to be true.
Countess Printer moved to the front, and spoke to the men gently. Her voice was clear, but sad sounding.
"It wasn't ordered by the Count, gentlemen. We Truth tested him on the issue. He believes that a man named Jimson ordered it? Do you know where he is?"
The men didn't want to believe it, not at first, so Gerent took the amulet back, and repeated what he'd heard the Count say.
Tallis looked away and shook his head.
"Well. Fuck." It was dark and brooding, not said in anger. The other man, Goings took a deep shuddering breath, but didn't speak. They understood what was going to happen then. That would make it either easier, or harder, Gerent knew.
