Blood Song

“There’s truly no need for me to check them for I trust you entirely. Didn’t you handle my entire estate the years I was away?”

Neither expected an answer for they both knew that during his master’s absence, Torghan had justified his lord’s trust in him. Perhaps more than Riven deserved, since he’d disobeyed his master’s command and hidden the Lady Barbra on the estate after the terrible misunderstanding driving His Lordship from his home to wander the land, and leaving Lindenscrag without a master. Though things were now peaceful between Riven and his wife, the giarl still didn’t like to be reminded of that time.

“I was never happier than on that day when you rode through the gates and I was able to relinquish my charge to you,” Torghan replied truthfully. “Nevertheless, it’s the custom for the giarl to review the books annually.”

“In that case…” Riven turned the pages of the ledger before him. “There’s one small entry I find puzzling and I’d have you explain it to me, for it appears in none of the volumes before the year I went away.”

“What’s that, sir?” Torghan frowned and stepped closer.

Searching the pages, Riven found the entry he sought and tapped it with a forefinger.

“Here—the village of Lovelady,” he read. “Twelve dinar a year.”

Torghan didn’t have to read the line of script he indicated. He knew well what it said, had written it himself, and truly never expected his lord to see it. He was silent as Riven consulted two other volumes.

“Here...and here, also…the same entry.”

Torghan didn’t say anything.

“I realize,” Riven continued, in the quiet pervading the room. “Lindenscrag is unique in all Francovia, for it’s the only domain housing on its estate a village composed entirely of women making their living with their bodies…”

He paused to look at his steward, his finger unconsciously tapping a tattoo upon the page.

Torghan managed to meet his gaze without blinking.

“…but when I came to Lindenscrag, I informed the inhabitants of Lovelady they would receive my protection and justice but no tribute was expected from them.” He frowned. “Now I find in my absence and even since my return, my steward has accepted an annual payment from them?”

Riven’s voice was quiet but Torghan wasn’t fooled. He knew his lord’s silences were more dangerous than another’s howling rages.

“I think I need an explanation.” Amber eyes regarded him somberly. “As to why you’ve made me a man who profits from the labor of whores.”

“Yes sir.” Torghan swallowed loudly. In the space of a moment, things had taken a very serious turn and all thoughts flew from his mind. “You shall have it.”

He fell silent again.

“Well?” Riven demanded, into the quiet threatening to last forever. “Will it be this century or the next? Now, my steward.”

“Sir…” he began and stopped again.

“Yes?” Riven’s frown wasn’t encouraging, anger hovering behind it.

In sudden dismay, Torghan wondered if his master would accept the truth. It concerned that subject of which he didn’t wish to be reminded, but…

He decided to chance it.

“It was because of the Lady Barbra, my lord.” The words came out in a rush.

“Barbra?” Riven’s frown deepened. “What has my wife to do with Lovelady’s whores?”

What indeed?

Torghan remembered well the night he disobeyed his lord’s orders and went to his lady’s aid, finding her already delirious from fear and pain as she lay on the floor of the chamber where she’d been thrown by the giarl in his rage.

She was a limp bundle, her blood and that of her unborn child’s staining his riding coat as he lifted her and carried her from the room. She wasn’t aware when he hid her in the caretaker’s hut, didn’t know he hadn’t dared be absent from the castle long enough to fetch the midwife from the village, so had gone to Lovelady and brought back one of the whores to stay with her while he returned to Lindenscrag.

Once back, he washed away the blood and changed back into his house robes before going to the tormented man who was already regretting what he had done to the wife he adored.

Torghan lifted his chin defiantly. “They offered the Lady Barbra aid after you turned her out.”

“We aren’t to speak of that.” Riven’s face darkened at the reminder of his cruelty. “I’ve told you…”

“You asked for an explanation, sir. That’s it,” Torghan replied. “Even when they learned who she was, they wished to help. A month after you left Lindenscrag, a woman appeared at the gates and left a dinar. ‘For the babe,’ she said. I returned it but they sent it back and each month thereafter. So,” he concluded with a shrug. “I kept the money. At first, I thought to make no record, but then, I felt it best to have a notation in the ledger.”

He stopped, waiting for Riven’s reaction. The silence deepened as his lord studied the open book before him. Since he’d not yet burst into a rage, Torghan became bold enough to demand, “Did I do wrong, sir?”

Riven smiled, a rueful expression. “I think...under the circumstances, you did right, Torghan.” He sighed. “We can’t keep the money, of course. It’ll have to go back, but in a way that won’t insult them. In spite of their profession, these women do have a sense of honor.”

“Aye sir.” In an effort to divert His Lordship, he added, “You’ve ever been fair with them.”

It worked.

Riven looked up, remembering, “Do you recall the day I served as magister when Benia of Lovelady brought one of Leontilf’s soldiers before me?”

“He gave her a single dinar for three days’ pleasure.” Relieved that his master had been distracted, Torghan was only too glad to elaborate. “You took one look at her and said merely sitting in her presence for an hour was worth a dinar and ordered him to triple the price.”

Riven laughed at the memory of the soldier’s discomfit and haste to comply with his command. His anger gone, he shook his head.

“Once again, you’ve disobeyed me and done what’s best. Someday, however, I fear your luck won’t hold.”

As he again bent over the ledger, Torghan, heartened by his abrupt good nature, thought, I’ll tell him now. I’ll speak of my feelings for Brunnë.

However, when he said, “Lord Riven…” His Lordship, without looking up, answered with disinterest.

“Is there something more?”

“No sir.” Torghan’s resolve failed. “By your leave, I’ve other chores to attend.”

At Riven’s’ dismissing wave, he made his escape.

As he came through the door, the page sprang to attention. Torghan ignored him. The boy and the sentry were startled to see the steward strike one fist against the wall before continuing down the hallway.