Page 133 of Bloom
“The new Baron seems like a decent man.”
The woman who’d been twisting her hair up slipped in a final pin. “Everyone needs to settle for a moment. No one’s going anywhere or telling anyone right at this second. Vemer has a point because this is quite sudden.” She drew Jaime toward the fire. “You poor thing. You must be in shock.” She settled in a chair and set him in her lap. “Can you tell me what happened?”
***
Vemer left, saying his mate was around somewhere. He’d check for Jed first, and if he found his mate soon, they’d scout the whole area.
The woman, Trida, claimed that telling the Baron might lead to trouble. The man, William, argued they had to. Everyone would soon know anyway.
“Exactly. Everyone will know. Even those who might want this child dead. Let Vemer check around and see what’s going on. I don’t think our Baron is a bad man, but he’s new to the area, and this is suspicious.”
William finally saw sense.
Before leaving, Vemer had said someone would be hunting for the child, and while the cart incident had been unfortunate, it could be a stroke of luck for Jaime. It would explain his sudden appearance.
Jaime had no idea what he meant about the cart. He didn’t know what to do with himself anymore, and he said he wanted to go home. Trida said he’d have to eat and get some sleep before they made any decisions. She gave him clothes that were too big and said she was glad she’d kept them even though she’d neverhad another child. She also gave him bread in warm milk with sugar, and he fell asleep at the table before finishing it.
When he awoke in an unfamiliar bed, he knew it wasn’t a dream. Mother, Father, and Jed were gone. Both sets of Grandparents were dead too.
He didn’t cry when Vemer returned with another werewolf. They’d found a big man in a field far beyond the woods. He’d bled out from a wound in his side. Trida gave Jaime a wooden toy she’d dug out from the chest of clothes and told him to go into the bedroom. They’d get him in a couple of minutes.
Jaime listened at the door. The city of Hemshire was in turmoil, and when Vemer pretended to be passing through alone, he got a fairy to speak to him. Why were so many people by the Castle gates? What was the smell? Why were two farms to one side burning with the crops trampled?
A wedding had taken place the previous day. Nobody was entirely sure what exactly happened, but it was clear someone had attacked. Since no army or group of armed men had been seen riding in, it must have been guests. Or perhaps they’d known of a secret entrance. Nobody was sure. A farmer to one side said he’d heard the hooves of many going by late in the night, although he hadn’t gotten up to see. It had sounded like they were heading away from Hemshire, not toward it.
The smell of smoke had alerted a few city guards who’d also seen flames far beyond Hemshire. They rode out to find a farm had been set alight. Someone had gone to the Castle to check only to find everyone dead.
The parents of the Earl and Countess had been found in the Hall along with several other relatives. While no one in the Scaliger family had been marrying, they’d used the occasion to come together and enjoy the celebration.
Slaughtered servants had been left about. While many bodies had been left wherever, a huge pile of corpses had been made inthe yard and burned, creating a horrid stench. The remains were nearly impossible to tell apart. The guards were all dead, and strangely, a few had been found in the guardhouse slumped on the floor, over tables, or across benches with stab wounds. It was like they’d fallen asleep and someone had later come by to kill them and ensure they never woke up again.
William said they must have been given ale to celebrate, and it had been drugged, and Vemer rumbled his agreement. After the ones on watch had been dealt with, the rest had been easier to kill. None would have expected an attack on the night of a wedding. The Earl and Countess had been found in a sitting room with grave wounds. It looked like the Earl had barred himself in the sitting room with his wife. The enemy had gotten in. The Countess had been pregnant, and Trida gasped.
It was assumed Jaime had been in the pile of burned bodies. They’d found little bones in the pile although they hadn’t dared to dig too much out of respect. A few of the citizens who’d looked had vomited at the mound of burned flesh and clothes. They’d never be able to properly separate the bodies for burial.
According to Vemer, a list of the recognizable dead inside was being made, and someone was going to write to King Alton. They weren’t sure who was responsible. If it was guests, they’d never know. They’d succeeded in killing everyone which seemed to be their goal. The wedded couple had also been slaughtered, and with no living witnesses, they weren’t even sure what to tell the King.
Someone had gone out, killed a couple of farmers and their families, burned their homes, and trampled the fields.
“It’s as though someone tried to make it look like an attack on Hemshire,” said Vemer. “Except they did a poor job with only two farms destroyed.”
“But why attack the Castle and kill everyone?” came Trida’s shaky voice.
“I don’t know,” said Vemer. “The inside doesn’t appear to have been looted, so they certainly weren’t looking for money or things to sell. The Castle is also a good ten-minute ride by horseback, so the city guards were clueless until a man’s cornfield, house, and barn were set ablaze. The attackers left, and they’ve got a good head start.”
***
After questioning Jaime, they still didn’t know the reasoning. Had Father gambled a lot? Did he drink? Had he quarreled with anybody? Did it seem like anything had been going on? Jaime had rarely seen Father drink and never saw him playing cards for money. He hadn’t fought with anybody. Nobody had. Nothing had seemed different in the past weeks. Father had acted as he always had, although he’d been especially focused on his pregnant wife.
Whatever happened, it seemed like a revenge killing. Men didn’t suddenly start attacking a roomful of guests for nothing. They also didn’t go about to take care of guards or kill servants on a whim either. The attack had been carefully planned, and when Trida caught rumors from other villagers since the tale was spreading like a disease, and it was said nothing had been stolen.
They whispered how it was like the attack had been plotted to wipe out every last member of the Scaliger family and nothing more.
No one in the village knew Jaime was the last surviving member. To explain his sudden appearance after a massive event, William made up a story.
Earlier in the day before the wedding, William had gone hunting and emerged on the road a couple of hours away. He’d seen a cart by a camp with two bodies. Since bandits liked to set traps with “injured” people to catch a good person who stopped, he’d hurried around and fled.
With a group, he’d returned to check it out. The two people lying by the remains of their campfire were dead. Both had been pale with sweat stains on their clothes. One had dried vomit clinging to his cheek, and it was clear they’d been sick. They must have stopped to rest, and they’d grown so ill, they hadn’t been able to continue. Unfortunately, no one had come along in time. After carefully burying the bodies, washing in case the illness had clung to the corpses, and returning, they’d decided to head out the next day and burn the cart. If sickness was on it, they didn’t want to bring it into the village.
