As Justin neared the manor he realized that he had never seen it up close before. It wasn’t as large as he’d thought, but more formidable. The wall was higher than it looked from a distance, and the stones had been laid smoothly so as to present a sheer, unclimbable face. The house inside could be seen from nearby hills, and was solidly built with only tiny windows covered with bars, well-spaced, to offer excellent defense for watchers and archers. He wondered if someone was watching him right now with an arrow trained on him. Justin knew Roth to be an expert archer, and he had heard that he required his men to be skilled as well. Justin contemplated the challenge of gaining entrance, without being taken prisoner or killed, as he skirted around the wall from about forty yards away.
When he reached the front where the gate was located, he was surprised to find a scene of confusion. Several of Roth’s men were arguing so heatedly that they weren’t even keeping watch. A short distance from them Justin spotted Wyatt, slumped with his back against the wall, hands and feet bound. Though they paid him no attention where he was, Justin knew he could not reach Wyatt unnoticed, and he could tell that to confront the group in their present temper would only get him taken captive, and would not help Wyatt at all. He decided to try to crawl a bit closer and see if he could discover the reason for the argument. Even in the dangerous situation, Justin couldn’t help gulping in the intoxicating smell of the earth and grass as he inched forward with his head down. It seemed everything held a sort of newness since the tunnel. When he had covered about half the distance, the noise began to sound intelligible. He inched forward a few more feet and then lay still to listen.
“I tell you he’s gone mad, Marshall,” yelled a heavily bearded man.
“He’s never been sane. When he’s in a rage, you get out of the way and let it pass,” answered one who must have been Marshall.
“You weren’t there, Marshall. Grant’s right. He’s never been this way. And what’s worse it’s because he’s scared. I could tell,” said a man with a red, curved scar on his neck.
“He hadn’t even time to get to the seer and back, so what could have scared him? You two are growing into old women.”
The scarred man jumped on Marshall at this point, and both landed several blows before five of the others pulled them apart.
When they stopped struggling the one called Grant spoke again. “Well, I have had my fill of it. I’m going to move on after I get my pay this fortnight. There are other lords nearby who are easier to work for.”
“You won’t get the wage you’re used to,” countered Marshall. “You pigheads don’t know where your bread’s buttered.”
“Sometimes I wonder how much more Roth can get away with, before the serfs get sick enough of it to do something. An’ if that happens the wage may not seem so good,” said a smaller, bald headed man.
“I heard that the cattle herders have even sent one to the Great King to bellyache about the taxes,” said the heavily bearded Grant. “And that’s what he was ranting about. A sign from the King.”
“So we’re afraid of the King, are we?” goaded Marshall, “Do we wet our beds too?”
More yelling followed this and Justin took the opportunity to try and get a little closer to Wyatt. He didn’t really have a plan of freeing him, but he thought maybe he could at least let him know he wasn’t alone. He was about fifteen yards away when he heard a loud yell followed by silence, and turned to see that Roth, himself had come out of the gate and was now regarding his men with wild eyes and a hateful snarl on his mouth. Wyatt for his part looked surprised, then miserable, to see Roth.
“So is it a revolt I find?” he bellowed, and most of the men cowered looking at the ground or their feet. Those brave enough to face him were still silent and wary looking. “Perhaps you would like to disavow yourselves of my employment. Would anyone like to leave? He should feel free.” As he said this he moved his hand to the bow that hung from his shoulder, not his favorite one, which he had carried earlier, and Justin knew to be lying in the tunnel. Roth began a slow survey of the men on his left, staring at each one for a couple of long seconds before moving to the next. When his head turned far enough right, Justin saw his eyes jerk toward Wyatt. But he steadily continued, regarding each man until he had finished with the last.
He then pretended to just catch sight of Wyatt, and affected a mood change, and raising his voice to a mocking pitch said, “What have we here? Is it my apple thief?” An audible sigh emerged from the group of men, now that Roth’s attention moved away from them. Wyatt turned baleful eyes toward Roth and waited. Justin held his breath. “Well, now this is a problem,” pretended Roth. “You see, I am like a father to these errant, overgrown boys here.” The men became tense again and exchanged short glances. “And sometimes, like all children, they become petulant and I have to chide them. That is what you have witnessed today, thief. And I wouldn’t want you to mistake anything you have heard. Moreover, I would be extremely upset if you were to carry false rumors back to any of your vile companions. Yes, you have put me in quite a spot by being here just now. And why are you here, anyway?” The question was spoken as if to Wyatt, but it was to the man they called Grant that Roth looked for an answer.
“Marshall can tell you, m’lord. It was he who discovered him,” Grant answered.
Roth turned to Marshall. “Well, m’lord, I found the little pig a’ lying in wait, at the first woodward tunnel out. He’d staked himself a rope too, so I guess he was a’meanin to go down. That’s all, m’lord.”
“I see,” said Roth, trying to maintain his tone of mock concern, but it was more genuine now. “Who else is in league with you, apple thief? Tell me, does your crazy old father want to cross ways with me again?”
A look of terror flitted across Wyatt’s face. “You know he doesn’t, my lord,” he answered meekly.
“No, I can’t imagine that he would,” said Roth returning to his affected tone. “Well, perhaps you have made a partner of that newcomer who jumped to your defense the other day in town.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I was there in your field alone. I am not working with anyone,” Wyatt said.
“Well, since you are a liar as well as a thief, I guess I needn’t bother asking what you were doing there.” Wyatt didn’t reply. “I see,” Roth continued. “Well, you have become too much of a nuisance to me, thief. I need to dispose of you, and if your friend has any ambitions aimed against me, I need to send him a message. I can always deal with him later.” Roth turned with a snap to the group of men. “Marshall, stand your prisoner against the wall.” Marshall obeyed, walking over and roughly jerking Wyatt to his feet.
“Now, let us see,” Roth looked down the line of faces, lingering on the ones who didn’t return his gaze. Finally, he stopped on the heavily bearded man who stood with his head bowed low, starring it would seem, at the tops of his feet. “Brendan,” Roth barked.
The man’s head jerked up, his face full of dread.
“You may have the honor of ridding us of this thief,” announced Roth extending his bow toward him.
“Yes, m’lord,” the man answered miserably, taking the bow and an arrow that Roth had just removed from his quiver.
As the man began to shuffle in Wyatt’s direction Justin yelled, “Stop!” and leaped to his feet.
Everyone turned shocked faces in his direction. Wyatt’s then became even more defeated, and Roth’s became a mixture of fear and rage. Justin was running toward him. “You stop!” Roth screamed. Justin did. Only a few yards separated him from the others. They all stared at the bright, blood covered vest with the blazing emblem of the Great King shining in the middle.
“What does it mean, m’lord?” croaked Marshall.
“It means nothing!” screamed Roth his voice cracking.
“But, m’lord, the crest, it is that of…” began Grant.
“Silence!” yelled Roth. “What do any of you know of these things? I will decide what is to be done. I am his governor, after all,” he shivered as he said the last and paused at a momentary loss. Then he pulled himself up and barked, “Untie the thief. Bring him before me.” While this was done Roth kept watch on Justin from the corner of his eye, but would not look directly at him. After he was untied, Wyatt walked to Roth on his own while the others dropped back to the wall, putting as much distance between themselves and Justin as possible. Roth gathered his nerves visibly and said in as commanding a tone as he could maintain, “You two are obviously involved in some sorcery that I, being a just leader, want no part of. Your own evil will return to pay you out what is coming to you. I, therefore, send you to collect your punishment of fate. I wash my hands of you and command that you never come before me again. If you do, I will be forced to let myself be used in the high office of judging you which, being not proud, I shun at this time. Be gone.” Roth then turned aside from Wyatt and struck what he thought a noble pose. Still he kept Justin in his sight but did not turn his eyes or head to him. None of the men made a sound. They all stood staring in disbelief at Roth, some with mouths agape.
Wyatt turned and looked at Justin. Justin motioned for him to come. After turning back to Roth who had not moved a hair, he moved backwards one step, then another. When no one tried to stop him, he turned and began jogging toward Justin, glancing often over his shoulder at the scene, which had not changed. When he reached Justin they both began running together toward the road to town. Wyatt continued to look back over his shoulder until the manor was out of sight, and they continued to run for a bit after that. When they finally slowed to a walk and had caught their breath Wyatt said, “What happened, how bad are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt at all,” Justin answered.
Wyatt stopped suddenly and said, “But the blood all over the vest?”
Justin stopped and faced him, “I can’t explain it. I have no idea where it is from, nor the crest, and the strangest thing is that it hasn’t dried up. Feel it, it is wet and somehow clean feeling.”
Wyatt extended his hand, but pulled it back before touching the vest. “Well, what happened in the tunnel? And what happened back there at the gate?”
Justin began walking again and Wyatt followed his lead. “Wyatt, I can’t explain any of this but here’s what happened. When I jumped into the tunnel the vest turned to rags. They were crusted with blood and stinking. That wasn’t going to be any protection and I got scared. I tried to call for you but you were already too far away. I tried to climb out but the rope came loose and fell down. I know how this is going to sound to you, but I was just plain scared. And I got to thinking about everything, and this part you’re really not going to like, but I decided I’d been wrong. I decided I didn’t want to kill Roth. When he showed up, I was down on the floor of the tunnel, actually trying to talk to the Great King. I know that sounds insane but that’s what I was doing. I was sure that Roth would kill me. He talked like he would. And I am ashamed of this part; I wasn’t thinking at all of what would happen to you. I thought if he killed me, well, that was just how it would be. I was leaving it up to the King. Roth told me to stand up and I did. Then he dropped his bow and turned and ran away. I didn’t know what had scared him until I saw that the vest had changed back, and there was the blood and the crest. Then I thought about you and I knew I had to get out and try to help you. I used his bow and shot the rope back out into a tree and climbed out. That’s it.”
Wyatt had stood silently listening, looking down at the dusty road. He was still silent for a few seconds. Then he looked Justin squarely in the face and simply said, “Well, it wasn’t your fight.” Then he turned and started toward town.
“Wait, Wyatt, I know this isn’t what you wanted to happen. But something happened to me in that tunnel. I’m not sure what. But I used to be like you, wanting to make people pay when they were wrong. And now I don’t think it’s up to me, and it is better this way.”
Wyatt stopped and wheeled around. “Justin, I thought I could count on you. I thought we understood each other. You had him. You had him running from you, and you with his weapon as well as your own. Do you have any idea how rare that chance was? But like I said, it’s not your fight.”
“I wish I could make you know what happened to me in there.”
“I don’t want to know. What about back at the gate?”
“I can’t be sure about that either, but I think Roth is afraid of the King…this vest…I don’t know, Wyatt. I wish I could give you the answers you want, but I don’t have them. I can’t explain any of this even to myself. I’m sorry if you think I’ve let you down. I hope someday you don’t think that, because I’m sure we were wrong. Roth’s not right either. But we were wrong. It’s like Tory told me, we had no right to judge him. We are different, but no better. Only the King has the right to deal with him for his wrongs.”
“I don’t understand that, Justin, and I don’t know that I want to,” said Wyatt quietly.
“What will you do now?”
“I don’t know. For the first time in my life I’m considering my father’s advice of moving to another town. But it’s too soon. I don’t know yet. What about you? You may continue to consider me your friend if you stay on here. I don’t understand any of what you’re telling me, but I don’t think you betrayed me.”
“Thank you for that, Wyatt. I am going to return home after I finish things with Tory’s family. But I will consider you my friend, and I hope you consider me yours.”
“Well, then, farewell friend.”
“Farewell, Wyatt.”
Knowing that everything necessary had been said they each went their own ways, Wyatt continued toward town and Justin turned off through the fields toward Tory’s home.
