Protected: Chapter Seven
Protected
Chapter Seven: Consequence
Around the village Grayside were farms and more farms. Fields of oats stretched between hedges, and small thatched houses were to be seen from the road. A company of soldiers is not so hard to spot, reasoned Keladry. I’ll find them soon enough, camped in some pasture, hopefully reasoning with the offending party, bridging differences.
And so she did. Riding off the road she led Hoshi along a path of broken grass to the rows of army tents erected in the middle of a green field, ordered around an area cleared of plant life. The two proud figures with their backs to her were certainly Zahir and Sir Martin. Twenty or so commoners were gathered around them, about half of them large, blue-skinned ogres. Keladry rode closer to see if either party were armed.
“…have heeded my advice and left your weapons behind when you came today,” Sir Martin was saying, “so perhaps this argument may be resolved to the satisfaction of all.”
A gray-haired man and a large ogre female nodded firmly.
“There need be no violence here, no cost in blood,” Sir Martin said.
The leaders of opposing parties nodded again, although some of the younger members seemed disinclined to agree.
“Will an unbiased party stand and lay out the details of the matter at hand?” Sir Martin asked.
The gray-haired man took a step forward and bowed. “If it please milord,” he said, and proceeded to lay out the tale of how the ogre matriarch Janila and her family had settled in Grayside after the war, and been more or less accepted into the community. Several of the ogres disagreed strongly with that statement. Last spring a new ogre came to Grayside. He did not work the land as Renan, Janila and their neighbors did, but stole his food from the fields of others.
At this point Janila interrupted Renan’s account and explained how some of the villagers had been harassing her family, because they believed they’d sheltered and fed the ogre thief over the winter. Renan argued that there was no other explanation, since the thief had returned the following spring, although he ought to have frozen to death in the snows.
Keladry listened to the story from the sidelines, and watched Sir Martin’s reactions carefully. Would he side with the humans? Would he demand that the ogre farms be searched for signs of the thief, validating the villagers’ idea that they could be blamed for anything bad that happened. Keladry prayed to the Goddess that he would not be rash or bigoted. But prayer isn’t enough, she thought. I have to act.
“Sir, might I have a word?” asked Kel.
“Of course, Lady Knight, I was just going to open conference with Sir Zahir,” replied Sir Martin, and Kel thought he sounded irate. Unfazed, she followed the two knights to their point of conference, the central tent.
“Well, there is the story they tell,” said Sir Martin, his voice very soft, conscious of the nearness of the subject of their conversation.
“It is difficult to tell who is in the right,” remarked Zahir.
“The arguments against the ogres are slim,” said Kel.
“It seems so,” agreed Sir Martin, and Keladry hid her surprise. “The villagers themselves admit they’d had no trouble with their new neighbors for a decade or so. They admit, too, that some among them are strongly inclined against the ogres, and have been since their settling here.”
“Yet a question still remains,” said Zahir. “To dismiss the charges of one party would be as unbalanced as to dismiss the other. I say we inquire in the matter of this thieving ogre. Perhaps we can track him, find evidence of where he spent the winter.”
“It’s June,” objected Kel. “Following a trail at least three months old is impractical.”
“What else can we do to find out the truth?” asked Zahir. “We could search the ogres’ farmstead, look for signs that a stranger stayed there.”
“How are we to tell?” Kel asked. “Who’s to say any evidence we find doesn’t belong to someone in the family?”
“It would appease the villagers.”
“Is that what we’re here to do?”
“No,” said Sir Martin firmly. “We have no evidence that the village ogres harbored the outlaw. For all we know, he hoarded his past thefts and laired through the winter. The accusations are unfounded, and the villagers have no cause nor right to lay a hand against their neighbors.”
Keladry’s relief at the older knight’s reaction was premature. Behind them the youths of both parties were already beyond shouting insults, and starting to brawl. Sir Martin held back most of the company, and dispatched only eight soldiers and the two knights to restrain the fighters while Janila and Renan lingered, unwilling to raise a hand against family.
It was then that Keladry’s head began pounding madly, and dizziness overtook her. The world dimmed and refocused as her mind fought to hold control of her eyes. As she gathered herself, an unfortunate strike that she could have easily parried caught her temple, and the battle was lost.
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Chapter Seven: Consequence
Around the village Grayside were farms and more farms. Fields of oats stretched between hedges, and small thatched houses were to be seen from the road. A company of soldiers is not so hard to spot, reasoned Keladry. I’ll find them soon enough, camped in some pasture, hopefully reasoning with the offending party, bridging differences.
And so she did. Riding off the road she led Hoshi along a path of broken grass to the rows of army tents erected in the middle of a green field, ordered around an area cleared of plant life. The two proud figures with their backs to her were certainly Zahir and Sir Martin. Twenty or so commoners were gathered around them, about half of them large, blue-skinned ogres. Keladry rode closer to see if either party were armed.
“…have heeded my advice and left your weapons behind when you came today,” Sir Martin was saying, “so perhaps this argument may be resolved to the satisfaction of all.”
A gray-haired man and a large ogre female nodded firmly.
“There need be no violence here, no cost in blood,” Sir Martin said.
The leaders of opposing parties nodded again, although some of the younger members seemed disinclined to agree.
“Will an unbiased party stand and lay out the details of the matter at hand?” Sir Martin asked.
The gray-haired man took a step forward and bowed. “If it please milord,” he said, and proceeded to lay out the tale of how the ogre matriarch Janila and her family had settled in Grayside after the war, and been more or less accepted into the community. Several of the ogres disagreed strongly with that statement. Last spring a new ogre came to Grayside. He did not work the land as Renan, Janila and their neighbors did, but stole his food from the fields of others.
At this point Janila interrupted Renan’s account and explained how some of the villagers had been harassing her family, because they believed they’d sheltered and fed the ogre thief over the winter. Renan argued that there was no other explanation, since the thief had returned the following spring, although he ought to have frozen to death in the snows.
Keladry listened to the story from the sidelines, and watched Sir Martin’s reactions carefully. Would he side with the humans? Would he demand that the ogre farms be searched for signs of the thief, validating the villagers’ idea that they could be blamed for anything bad that happened. Keladry prayed to the Goddess that he would not be rash or bigoted. But prayer isn’t enough, she thought. I have to act.
“Sir, might I have a word?” asked Kel.
“Of course, Lady Knight, I was just going to open conference with Sir Zahir,” replied Sir Martin, and Kel thought he sounded irate. Unfazed, she followed the two knights to their point of conference, the central tent.
“Well, there is the story they tell,” said Sir Martin, his voice very soft, conscious of the nearness of the subject of their conversation.
“It is difficult to tell who is in the right,” remarked Zahir.
“The arguments against the ogres are slim,” said Kel.
“It seems so,” agreed Sir Martin, and Keladry hid her surprise. “The villagers themselves admit they’d had no trouble with their new neighbors for a decade or so. They admit, too, that some among them are strongly inclined against the ogres, and have been since their settling here.”
“Yet a question still remains,” said Zahir. “To dismiss the charges of one party would be as unbalanced as to dismiss the other. I say we inquire in the matter of this thieving ogre. Perhaps we can track him, find evidence of where he spent the winter.”
“It’s June,” objected Kel. “Following a trail at least three months old is impractical.”
“What else can we do to find out the truth?” asked Zahir. “We could search the ogres’ farmstead, look for signs that a stranger stayed there.”
“How are we to tell?” Kel asked. “Who’s to say any evidence we find doesn’t belong to someone in the family?”
“It would appease the villagers.”
“Is that what we’re here to do?”
“No,” said Sir Martin firmly. “We have no evidence that the village ogres harbored the outlaw. For all we know, he hoarded his past thefts and laired through the winter. The accusations are unfounded, and the villagers have no cause nor right to lay a hand against their neighbors.”
Keladry’s relief at the older knight’s reaction was premature. Behind them the youths of both parties were already beyond shouting insults, and starting to brawl. Sir Martin held back most of the company, and dispatched only eight soldiers and the two knights to restrain the fighters while Janila and Renan lingered, unwilling to raise a hand against family.
It was then that Keladry’s head began pounding madly, and dizziness overtook her. The world dimmed and refocused as her mind fought to hold control of her eyes. As she gathered herself, an unfortunate strike that she could have easily parried caught her temple, and the battle was lost.
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