Jesse Bullington - The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart

“Is that wise?”

“Wiser than sittin in the pot til they set us on the fire.” Manfried yawned.

“You wanna hold on to a weapon?” asked Hegel.

“What?! No, of course not.”

“Yeah, can’t you see his hands are bound up?” Manfried chided Hegel.

Rodrigo cleared his throat behind them in the hall. “Sleep well?”

Wondering why he had not felt the goosechills at Rodrigo’s approach, Hegel overcompensated by thrusting his crossbow in the man’s face. Manfried raised his mace and Martyn jumped back into his room and kicked the door shut. Rodrigo blinked at them and extended his open palms.

“What’s this, then?” Rodrigo asked.

“Come to torture us, you craven crumb?” Manfried demanded.

“If that’s your purpose you should a brought more muscle,” said Hegel.

“I wondered if the father spoke properly. Now I have my answer.” Rodrigo sighed. “The captain sends for you to dine with him this morning. If you value your pelts I would advise against such hostility, as beating the truth from you was entirely my idea, although the future feasibility of such an option is reliant on how you comport yourselves at his board. Now shall we bring the priest?”

“Nah.” Hegel hung his pick and unstrung his bow. “We gotta have a word on private ground.”

“Which means no flowery twats in high boots,” said Manfried.

“I would like a word in private with you as well, Master Grossbart, but first the captain will have his,” Rodrigo growled, turning on his heel and leading them to the stairs.

“Wager you would,” Manfried rejoined. “Though you’d be disappointed to find your head fallin to the floor stead a my breeches.”

Rodrigo shuddered at the mental image but held his tongue. These bastards were merely tightening nooses around their necks, and Rodrigo knew if they rubbed him off-ways the captain might kill them himself before breakfast. They seemed too proud to deny murdering his brother Ennio, if indeed they had, but already he wanted to see them die simply to watch the sneers fade from their narrow lips.

They went down the stairs and across the foyer to the hallway opposite the wing leading to the kitchen. Two men in chain mail haubergeons slouched against the wall, dipping their heads at Rodrigo. The hallway terminated in an ebon door that Rodrigo gave a series of knocks upon, each Grossbart committing the sequence to memory. Rodrigo then opened the door and motioned them to enter before him. Hegel went in first while Manfried backed into the room behind him to keep an eye on Rodrigo, who followed them in and closed the door.

A massive table laden with plates, platters, and pitchers filled the room, and behind this sat the captain. A light red beard spilled down his shirt and disappeared under the table, instantly warming the Grossbarts to him. His advanced age was shown by his bald pate and ears that sagged with the weight of heavy gold hoops, his muscular frame drooping from lethargy. Blue eyes and a large nose and mouth jutted out from his slightly tanned face, his voluminous hands holding the largest crossbow the Brothers had ever seen. This the captain pointed vaguely between them, and when he spoke he enunciated each syllable so his meaning was not blurred by his thick accent.

“You are the Grossbarts.” Not a question.

“Yeah.” Hegel lamented unstringing his bow.

“And you’s the Captain Bar Goose,” said Manfried, his palm on his mace pommel.

“Alexius Barousse.” The captain smiled, showing a mouthful of broken teeth.

Rodrigo said something to the captain in Italian that clouded Barousse’s face with anger, his nose swelling and his eyes narrowing. Moments before the Grossbarts jumped upon the table to battle the man he bellowed, “I will not have guests worry they are plotted against! In their presence you will speak so they can understand or not at all!”

“Right proper,” Hegel agreed, not trying to mask his pleasure.

“Only honest.” Manfried beamed. “Chance we could speak without the sneak?”

“Captain-” Rodrigo began.

“You are no longer needed,” Barousse snarled, his chest heaving.

“But-”

“I know what you’re about.” Barousse slumped back in his throne-like chair. “So I’ll settle that in your presence. Your names.”

“Huh? Oh, Hegel Grossbart.”

“Manfried Grossbart.”

“Have you come on any other business than returning my property?”

“Nah, but now that we’s here there’s other business could be discussed,” Manfried answered.

“Are you assassins?” The business end of Barousse’s crossbow stayed trained on whoever spoke.

“We’s never killed none but them what done us wrong,” said Hegel.

“Or those what would, given the chance,” clarified Manfried.

“Have you brought poison to my table?”

“Yeah, I got some in my bag,” said Hegel.

“Only cause we didn’t trust our things to be left in our rooms,” Manfried added, giving Rodrigo the stink-eye.

“Do you mean to kill me?” Barousse asked in the same manner in which he would offer them wine.

“Not unless you give us cause,” said Hegel, and Manfried nodded.

“And you’re in nobody’s employ but your own?”

“And Mary’s,” said Hegel.

“Meanin the Virgin,” explained Manfried.

“Satisfied?” Barousse looked to Rodrigo.

“How can you trust them?” Rodrigo spluttered.

“How can they trust a man who speaks about them in code in their very presence? They can’t, and I can’t trust a man who distrusts me or my company. So out.” Barousse set the crossbow down on the table and poured himself a drink, dismissing the dumbstruck Rodrigo with a wave of his fingers. Rodrigo bowed and left without looking at the Grossbarts, slamming the door behind him.

“Lock the door,” Barousse commanded, which Hegel did while Manfried approached the table. “Sit and eat. He’s lost a brother and you’re the ones who were there, so that sits sorely with him.”

“Never would a pegged Ennis for the smart one.” Manfried fell upon a roast gull.

“Rodrigo’s proved himself superior to Ennio in all matters save cart driving, which is why he went and Rodrigo stayed.” Barousse drank between words.

“Ennio weren’t so bad in the end,” said Hegel.

“But it’s the beginning that concerns me,” Barousse said. “My enemies are legion, hence Rodrigo’s protective nature. The green-eared lad fails to recognize that a man who can’t defend his own table isn’t fit to sit at it. Besides, you have brought back to me what Ennio failed…” Barousse lowered his voice and stared at his plate.

After several mouthfuls of silence, Hegel guzzled some wine and cleared his throat. “We was in the mountains, headin south when we seen your ride comin towards us,” he began, and whenever he needed another bite or drink Manfried would take up the reins and continue the tale. They omitted nothing but Manfried’s fascination with the woman, even including their debate with Ennio on the ethics of their business in the churchyard. The food grew cold but still they ate and talked, and before they were finished the captain had to retrieve another bottle from the mantel to fill their glasses.

Barousse’s hearty laughter when they told of slaying the Road Popes and burning the town endeared him to the Grossbarts, here at long last an honest man. “Many might doubt your tale,” he finally said.

“Many oughta get hit,” Hegel observed.

“And you say the priest pursued the same demon?”

“Claimed to,” said Manfried, “accordin to him the man what had it in’em was a devil worshipper, meanin we kilt us a demon and a witch.”

“And so you did kill Ennio,” Barousse mused.