Douglas Niles - Measure and the Truth

The two women were dressed in simple shawls and easily passed as farmwives when encountering dairymen or laborers on the dirt road that curled gently down the valley of the Vingaard River. That great flowage, a mile wide, spread to their right, but the keep itself and the town around it was obscured from their view by the ridge of low hills just south of Apple Creek.

They walked along in silence and after about an hour came to the crest of those hills. They both stopped and stared. The silhouette of Vingaard Keep loomed before them, but it was a sad, twisted mockery of the once elegant fortress. Only one tower could be seen, standing aloof and proud, with many black gaps where the once-beautiful windows had been. The other two towers were gone, replaced by stumps of rubble.

There was a picket of Crown Army guards at the crest, a dozen men-at-arms who stood near the road, watching to the south. They had clearly been observing the women for the past hour, but just as obviously did not perceive them to be any threat. In fact, they ignored them as they moved past until Selinda stopped and turned. She spotted the sergeant of the detail, a grizzled knight who was a decade or two past his prime, and approached him.

Curtsying respectfully, she begged his pardon for interrupting him at his duties.

“No problem! No problem at all, little lady. What can I do for you on this fine morn?”

“Is it safe to approach the castle? Does the battle still rage?”

The sergeant chuckled genially. “Not so much of a battle, really. The poor beggars were ready to quit at the first sight of the emperor’s bombard. But he wouldn’t let ’em-turned the cowardly curs right back to their walls, he did, when they tried to yield. He had to teach them a lesson, you know.”

“He turned them down? When they offered to yield?” Selinda tried to keep her voice level even as her stomach heaved with nausea. She felt Melissa take her hand, the priestess squeezing it hard, trying to give her strength.

“Well, he had to, you see. Had to teach them the lesson.”

“And now? Where is the emperor?” asked Selinda.

“Why do you want to know so bad?” asked the guard, suddenly suspicious. “You are a pretty thing, I’ll say. But you know he’s married, don’t you?”

“I had heard that, yes,” said the emperor’s wife. “I’m curious, that’s all. Do you think he will knock the rest of the castle down?”

“I don’t think so. The lord’s daughter came out to see him, in the wee hours it was. She went up and begged him to stop. She was up there with him a long time, but when she rode away, he called for a ceasefire. You can see they’re taking the gun down… right there.”

She looked and did notice the mighty bombard, the barrel lowered almost to a horizontal position as oxen were secured in the wagon’s traces. Beyond, she saw a building, probably an inn, and recognized the three-symbol pennant that was the emperor’s banner.

“Is he down there, then?” she asked, pointing to the obvious headquarters.

“Well, he was. But a few moments ago, he and a party of men, all decked out they was, road across the Stonebridge and into Vingaard Keep. Maybe he had some more terms for the little lady, eh?” he added with a lewd chuckle and a wink.

“Yes, maybe,” Selinda replied disconsolately. Then she walked away from the sergeant with Melissa at her side. Instead of turning toward the castle or the headquarters building, however, she turned her footsteps toward the Apple Creek road, leaving the Vingaard, the castle, and the army behind.

The priestess walked with her in silence for a long time. Finally, she spoke. “You’re not going to try to talk to him, then?” she said.

Selinda shook her head. “No, I’m not. I mean, in the end, there’s really nothing to say.”

The cleric of Kiri-Jolith nodded somberly, and again took her friend’s hand. The Lady Selinda was right.

There really wasn’t anything to say.

Marrinys Kerrigan proved an able administrator. By the time Jaymes, Dayr, and the Freemen rode into the courtyard of Vingaard Keep, she had ordered the vaults opened and somehow collected enough treasure to fill a small chest with gems and larger chests with steel coins. Jaymes didn’t need more than a glance to see that the recalcitrant town’s taxes would be paid in full.

“You’re as good as your word,” he said approvingly.

“I wish I could say the same about you,” she replied, startling him with her vehemence. “But your word has been sullied by your disregard of the parley, more than you even know. The world will long remember how you betrayed my father under a flag of truce.”

“I told you-I didn’t plan to kill him! I gave no order to injure him. It was simply an accident.” Once again, he found himself wanting her to understand and was irritated that she refused to accept his explanation. “Do you think I’m lying to you?” he demanded.

She shrugged. “What I think doesn’t matter. Your intent doesn’t matter. What matters is that a good man, a Solamnic patriot, was slain when he went to you under a flag of truce.”

“Your father’s death was beside the point. The world must learn the price of defying the nation of Solamnia. That’s why this whole campaign occurred.” He gestured to the piles of rubble where the towers had fallen. “It is why that needed to be done.”

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she turned away from him. He grimaced, annoyed, impatient. “Do you need any assistance making funeral arrangements?”

“I can take care of things myself,” she replied coldly. “Very well. I’m detaching my engineering companies, leaving them here under your command. They’ll rebuild the walls, where they were damaged by the falling towers. The fortress will be restored, intact, and once again you will able to defend against external enemies.”

“It is not external enemies who did this!” Marrinys cried. “It is my own liege-my emperor!”

He flushed, clenching his jaw. Something in his eyes caused her to blanch, and she backed up a half a step. But still she was unafraid.

“And the towers?” she asked. “Will your engineers help to rebuild them as well?”

“That will be up to you.” There was no point in talking to her any longer. “Good day!”

He spun on his heel, and as he walked away, he glanced at the scene in the crowded courtyard. Burly troops were helping to move the chunks of rubble out of the way. One of his engineers had backed a wagon with a block and tackle mounted on the bed up to a swath of ruined stone. Officers were issuing orders.

Another wagon rolled in with the priest of Kiri-Jolith, the cleric who had accompanied Lord Kerrigan to the parley, sitting in the front. The priest dismounted and beckoned to some men from the castle guard. They started to remove a litter from the back, which bore the body of the slain nobleman. Jaymes watched impassively as they bore the dead man into the keep, entering a side door, since the main entrance had been devastated by an artillery ball.

Looking around, the emperor saw General Dayr waiting at the gatehouse. The emperor walked over to his army commander.

“I want you to take a message to Dram Feldspar, at New Compound,” Jaymes said.

“Of course, my lord.”

“I want him to begin work on a dozen new bombards. He’s authorized to negotiate payment with the mountain dwarves for as much steel as they can give him. Also, I want to increase the next commission of black powder to a hundred kegs, as well as a thousand balls of ammunition. Dram is authorized to contract to the hill dwarves for sulfur and saltpeter. The new order is effective immediately.”