Chapter 94: A punishment to fit the crime
The training area was essentially a giant square. Each side had an entrance into the training area, and in each corner was some foliage or grass. It wasn’t completely dirt, but over time, that is just what happened. Dirt was easier to clean up, as well, if a fight broke out and someone happened to be injured. It didn’t happen often, Cass assumed, but he had a feeling injuries might be more common after this.
Especially for his guards.
The crowd around Sir Forsythe, and now Byron, wasn’t too large. Only about 10, maybe 15 people. It was enough to be intimidating, but neither of the men under his employ were intimidated. Sir Forsythe, in fact, was still doing his duty.
Cass hadn’t seen the man since he’d sent him out, but it was clear from the rags that he wore, the blood splatters, and the several discarded bottles of what Cass assumed was a healing potion of some kind, Sir Forsythe had been serious in his work. Cass was proud of him, honestly.
He should give him a break after this, and take the heat off of his back. The hatred being directed to him was quite intense, but the man didn’t flinch. Cass hoped that he continued to be this way. Byron stood defiantly next to him, protecting his back as the group yelled insults at them. His jaw was tight, his expression dark, but it went slack when Cass approached.
Noticing a change in his behaviour, a few other people turned towards where his gaze was directed and noticed that Cass was approaching. They began to nudge the others, and soon the whole group was looking back at him.
"My Lord, you didn’t have to come." Byron began, his voice serious. Sir Forsythe’s hand hesitated for a moment before he slammed it down, and then he turned to look at Cass. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his expression clear, but it was clear that even his knight was getting tired.
"You’re right, Byron, I didn’t have to. I wanted to though. How goes?" Cass asked, and Byron shared a look with Sir Forsythe. They both noticed how Cass was ignoring the large group beside them, and decided to go along with it.
"Well, there were a few interruptions this morning, but everything should be done by the time 24 hours wraps around, my Lord." Sir Forsythe told Cass, and Cass nodded. He stood, his arms crossed, a frown on his face as he stared down at the unrecognisable man.
"Do you think he’s learned his lesson?" Cass asked, and Sir Forsythe cleared his throat.
"If I may be honest for a moment, Sire?" Cass nodded, and he continued. "Men like him never learn their lesson, even after such harsh punishments. He might remember this for a moment, but there is no doubt in my mind that he will continue down the path at some point." His words were wise, and Cass agreed with him. This was more of a show of force than an actual lesson, so that was fine, but he had a good point.
"Ah. How disheartening to hear, Sir Forsythe." Cass began, and several people, including Sir Forsythe reacted. All of them seemed shocked by Cass’ words as he shook his head, as if in great pain. "I went through so much work to make sure that I proved to the others that this was justified, and yet you tell me he will not learn a thing? Should I have let you cut his hands off?" Cass pondered out loud, tapping his chin thoughtfully with his fingers.
Sir Forsythe swallowed, before he ducked his head. Cass swore he saw his lips twitch up momentarily.
"I will fall back on whatever decision you decide, my Lord. My blade is always ready." He promised, and Cass smirked.
"My, what a loyal dog you are." Cass mused, probably offending a few people within earshot, but hell, he was sure people were saying it behind his back already, why not make a note of it?
Honestly, Cass was surprised by Sir Forsythe’s level of dedication. He didn’t think that the man had been like this before with Lord Blackburn. He wondered what he’d done to make him want to change, or be this present in Lord Blackburn’s life.
Cass was fairly certain that Lord Blackburn hadn’t taken him with him when he’d gone to dungeons. Lady Fiona had never mentioned him, and as a fellow sword user, or, er, weapon user, she no doubt would have noticed him since she noticed all of the other prominent knights that her husbands had brought with them.
But, if Lord Blackburn knew that Sir Forsythe was a good knight, and, decidedly loyal, why had he left him behind? If he had left him behind? What caused him to not trust Sir Forsythe? Was it his connection to the Blackburn manor? If that was the case, why hadn’t he sent him to guard Lady Fiona like most of the other Blackburn knights had been sent, and instead he was left as a paltry guard of his rooms?
What benefit did that have, or what reason lay behind that choice? Cass didn’t know, but what he did know now was that the man was gladly following his orders, and had shown that he would do so even if it cost him his reputation amongst his peers.
He could feel his intent to draw his sword, even amongst these people protesting wildly against it.
"You are a monster if you do that!" One of them shouted. It wasn’t any different from any of the others. They were all calling him names. Why they thought they were going to get away with insulting the next head of the Blackburn family blew his mind. It was clear that they did not know the man’s charges, or they simply didn’t care. They were here to gain sympathy for him, not to get the facts straight.
Cass’ shoulders began to shake as he laughed, and Sam shifted nervously behind him.
"And who are you to say that I am?" Cass asked, turning his gaze towards the people he had pointedly ignored up until this point. They all began to pale when faced with the slightly smiling face of Lord Blackburn, an expression they had never seen, along with the red hue of his gaze. They almost appeared to be glowing, and a warning shiver went down all of their spines.
They had been out here yelling and screaming, hoping to get the attention of the Lord. Now that he was here, and had turned his attention to them, they were not so sure they had made the right decision.
"W-We are just your humble servants, my Lord, but we cannot hold our tongues anymore! This is unjust! Unfair!" The same man who had called him a monster spoke. He didn’t drop his gaze, staring directly into Cass’ soul. Cass, who wasn’t fully equipped with the understanding of behaviours of this time knew that what he was doing was deeply disrespectful. Sam’s slight intake behind him was also a hint.
If he, a servant, was asking something of his Lord, should he not be groveling for his favour instead of this? What kind of treatment was this?
Lord Blackburn was supposed to be a secret villain, but even if that was the case, normally some of it seeped out. Whether it was the treatment of the people around them, or something even more sinister, usually fear was struck into the hearts of those who saw the villain at some point.
It was clear that because these people had seen what the elder Duke Blackburn had done to him as a child, to Lord Blackburn as a child, that they had no fear of him.
Cass shook his head, chuckling.
"And who are you to call my actions, the actions of your Lord, unjust? Are you the Duke? Have you come in disguise, grandfather, and are now attempting to order me around in my own home?" Cass’ tone was cold, scathing, and the man who spoke stopped breathing for a moment. They had realised that something was wrong.
The old Lord Blackburn would have backed down, having been questioned by someone from the main house. The current Lord Blackburn was not doing the same. In fact, he wasn’t budging at all.
Cass stared down at the man who was clearly panicking, having not expected Cass’ quick response. Cass raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on his hip.
"Well? Are you going to respond? Or am I going to have to whip it out of you?" Cass asked. He found that challenging them this way was...invigorating, almost intoxicatingly so. Sir Forsythe seemed to tense. Cass worried for a moment that it was to protest what he had said, but instead he noted that Sir Forsythe was staring down the man who had spoken.
Ah.
A loyal dog indeed.
"I-I would never impersonate someone so above my stature!" The man eventually stuttered and Cass was impressed.
"Ah, so you admit that you would impersonate someone if they weren’t? Interesting, interesting. So, if you aren’t my grandfather, what right do you have to protest what I am doing to my servants?" Cass asked again, his smile dropping from his lips. A shiver went down the other man’s spine.
"I-I am but a humble servant-"
"Ah yes, but a humble servant." Cass repeated mockingly. "A humble servant who organised the other servants to come and protest the ’mistreatment’ of the stablemaster? Is that it?" The servant nodded aggressively, and Cass snorted.
"Y-Yes my Lord. I-"
"Enough." Cass’ voice was firm, silencing the man without a wave of his hand. "Enough of your lame words. I have no need to hear them from a man who defends someone who wronged me. I have no need to explain my actions to you, but as a last kindness, I will do so." Cass leaned forward slightly, his eyes scanning the crowd before him. "I, by every right granted to me under the law, have every right to have this man drawn and quartered, to have his limbs cut off and reattached before doing so again and again, for not only has this man insulted me to my face, but over his several years of working for my family he has embezzled so much money that people like you would faint if you ever saw. All through being a stablemaster. Having him lashed for 24 hours, stripped of all of his possessions and tossed onto the streets is a kindness I don’t doubt all of you would understand." Cass narrowed his gaze as he looked over the crowd.
They had come from the Blackburn manor. They all knew what he meant.
They had gotten used to the cushy life they were living here, so much so they forgot that the Lord they were supposed to serve grew up in a hellish nightmare that forged him into the man that he was today.
This was the last moment they forgot it.
"With that being said, I have been so magnanimous to allow you to protest, but no more. You are bothering the others, and if I find out that more of you continue this useless protest over a punishment that doesn’t fit the crime, I shall see fit that everyone shall meet a fate that matches the crimes committed." It was a threat, plain and simple, and Cass watched as several of them went pale.
It was clear that Cass was letting them know that he knew what they had been up to. It was a warning. If they stepped another toe out of line, Cass was not afraid to put the hammer down. No more would he overlook their transgressions, and the stablemaster was just a ploy to get them all into one place.
Scanning the faces around him, Cass felt his lips turn up slightly.
"I take it that my point has been made, and I have checked up on my knight. Get some rest after escorting that man off of our property, Sir Forsythe. I shall see you in the afternoon." Cass ordered, and the man bowed before Cass spun, not sparing the Blackburn manor servants another glance as he made his way back to his rooms. Byron, now deemed useless, followed after him and Sam.
No doubt the servants wouldn’t take that threat lying down. They may look frightened right now, but they would begin to scheme once more. After all, they had seen him at his lowest. No doubt they would think that he wouldn’t uphold his promise. Little did they know that Cass was twice as unforgiving as Lord Blackburn.