Page 63 of Traitor Son

Juste shut him up with a hard knock to the head. Remin was inclined to let the rest of the drama play out, and watch the reactions of the people. It was clear that there was little support for the miller and his granddaughter. Every face he could see was frozen in horror, and they drew back from the pair as if they had something catching, clearing a path for Remin’s men. The girl spun around as Jinmin carried her off, livid, as if all the power and venom in her body were concentrated in her pale eyes.

“The Lord of Tales will be back!” She screeched. That false smile had vanished and now there was only rage. “And he’ll punish you all, he won’t forget who the traitors are! You’re cowards, weaklings,worms!”

Shrieking, she was born away. How old was she? Fifteen? Remin’s stomach twisted, but nothing showed in his hard face. That girl had been barely more than a child when Valleth surrendered. But there were holdouts after any war.

Before him, the townspeople were slowly sinking to their knees. Clutching their children.

“Your Grace.” Elder Brodrim’s voice trembled. “I am sorry. We knew their feelings, and we suspected—but we didn’t think they would go through with it. I thought they had seen sense. It was my error in not reporting it. Please, punish me—”

“Stop.” Remin lifted a hand. “I offered you amnesty once. I will repeat that offer now. If any of you do not wish to live under the Empire of Argence, then you may go, now. My men will escort you to the border, and you will be given coin enough to start you on your way. I swear to the stars in heaven that no harm will come to you if you wish to go. This is the last time I will make this offer.”

He paused, giving them a chance to take him up on it. No one did.

“Then any support for Valleth or further lawlessness will be punished accordingly. You will give me your oath. Now.”

Every single person said it. Even the little ones, kneeling beside their parents and looking around in confusion, but game to play along. Shrill, piping little voices swearing their loyalty. Their happiness was gone. Theywere relieved; they were all but fainting with relief. Other lords might have swept the square clear, and killed them to the last child.

But Remin knew what it was like to be the last child.

“In return, you have my oath to return loyalty with protection, and trust with trust,” he said. “I regret that we had to endure such unpleasant business tonight. I will send men to build you a sleeping house safe from stranglers. Elder Brodrim, I will hope to return after the harvest. May our next meeting be under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace.” The old man stood, slipping his hands into his wide sleeves to hide their trembling. Great drops of sweat stood out on his bald head, but he gave a good bow all the same. “I hope…I hope you will bring the Duchess of Andelin so we can offer our hospitality, Your Grace. We will be honored.”

Remin offered them a cordial farewell, but kept it short. He was about to execute two members of their village. Regardless of their guilt, it would be insensitive to linger.

But when he returned to his camp in the hills, he found Jinmin had already beaten him to it.

“That’s them,” said the knight, pointing to the two corpses a short distance outside the camp. The girl’s pale hair was stained red with blood. “Didn’t see any point in delaying.”

“I did not order you to kill them.” Remin’s voice was frigid. The giant knight met his gaze squarely, small brown eyes in a flat brawler’s face. “What if I had wanted to question them?”

“Then I’d say sorry,” said Jinmin. He bowed, his face expressionless. “Meant no disrespect, Your Grace.”

“If I can’t trust you to withhold your sword, then I won’t ask you to draw it.” Remin said it quietly; this was only between the two of them, not a show for the consumption of the camp. “Go.”

Jinmin lumbered away, a small mountain.

Sometimes he thought that Jinmin had only chosen to follow him on a whim all those years ago, and if he hadn’t, then Remin likely would have been obliged to kill him. They had been together for the entirety of the war and Jinmin had been a loyal and formidable weapon; he had once taken a crossbow bolt intended for Remin, and killed the assassin without so much as a twitch. But for all that, Remin still felt sometimes that he hadn’t the least idea what was going on in that giant skull.

They camped under the stars, though this time they lit fires. There was no need to hide their presence, and the warnings about wolf demons had them all on edge. When the moon was high and the middle of the night was passing, Juste came to sit with him. The rest of the camp was quiet. In the distance, Remin could see the massive shape of Jinmin in his bedroll, snoring like a congested ox.

“Sometimes I think he’d do anything I ordered,” Remin murmured to Juste.“Anything.And then he goes and does something like this.”

“Fortunately, the rest of us are here to argue with you,” Juste replied. “In this case, he saved me the trouble, my lord. I was on my way to do it myself.”

“What? Why?”

“You weren’t going to question them. They know nothing,” Juste said curtly. “But you were going to force yourself to kill that girl.”

“Why would I do that?” But the question lacked his usual conviction, and Remin looked into the fire as if he might find the answer there.

“To prove that you can, if you must,” Juste said, with quiet sympathy. “It is unnecessary, my lord. We will not ask this of you.”

“You know.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. I saw you after you killed that girl in Ellingen. It did not seem like anewtrouble, so I asked Huber about it.”

Huber was the least likely of all Remin’s knights to gossip, or indeed to talk at all, barring some pressing need. Remin understood and allowed it when he would never have tolerated it in anyone else. But trust Juste to sniff it out and know exactly where to go for an answer. Miche would laugh and laugh, and never tell the truth.

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