A Man of His Word

Writers: Eimi, Paula
Date Posted: 12th June 2011

Characters: Morin, Fymer, Brehos, Plegar
Description: Morin must keep his promise now that the job is done
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 2, day 5 of Turn 6

Morin waited patiently in the natural cave beneath the light house. It
was more of a depression in the rock than a cavern. It had been formed
over thousands and thousands of turns of storm waves crashing against
the rock, tearing pieces away from it in it's fury. There was only one
path down from the lighthouse, but it was well marked with signs which
read "Danger - loose rocks and high waves - keep out!". Very few knew
that it was in actuality relatively safe. At high tide it was often
flooded, but when the tide was favorable, like it was now, it made a
muddy, but well hidden place for meetings such as this.

He turned when he heard the sounds of hushed voices. That would be
Fymer and Brehos, come back from their mission. "Well?" he asked as
they come into view.

"It's done," Fymer said. "How well, I can't say, since I was huddling in
the ship whole time," his voice held a complaining note.

"And there was no trouble? No one asked questions?" Morin looked
straight at Brehos.

"I did everything Fymer told me. I don't think they suspected
anything." Despite Fymer's misgivings, the Holders believed he was a
healer looking at their history of Plague victims.

"And the ship had no trouble? Their papers also cleared?" he asked,
looking back at the Harper.

"Yes, their papers were perfect," Fymer said, slightly annoyed that
Morin had to ask, like he would do anything less than perfect.

He didn't have to ask about the secrecy of the captain or crew since was
well acquainted with Captain Libard. He was, by all respects, a pirate
dealing in stolen goods and ill-gotten gain. But Morin had found the
association handy on certain occasions. Libard's ship had a safe place
to dock for resupply and repairs, while he had an ally who understood
the need for secrecy from time to time.

"Do you think that is enough, Fymer? Have we all the evidence we need?"
Of course, what he really wanted to know was if there was any reason to
retain Brehos' services.

"Should be, I mean, after such a long time, little lapses in documentary
are more than expected. Too perfect evidence would be more suspicious.
Records do get lost and distroyed over Turns," Fymer replied, speaking
from long experience as a Scribe.

That was what Morin wanted to hear. "Well, then. It seems you've kept
your part of the bargain, Brehos."

"I hope I proved myself, to you, sir. Now I hope you'll keep your
promise. You'll let me go?" It had always been in the back of Brehos'
mind that Morin might just find some reason to go back on his promise.
He'd rather die than go back into those mines.

Morin nodded. "I'm a man of my word, am I not, Fymer?"

"Yes, you are," Fymer nodded eagerly. Of course, you also needed to know
how to read between lines... Words were funny things, you could twisted
many ways and one word could mean several things.

"So you have my word, Brehos, that as long as you stay far away from
Sunstone Seahold, you are free to live out the remainder of your life a
free man. I can look you in the eye and make you that promise. Just
like you can look me in the eye and promise me that it wasn't you who
broke into Hold Plegar's cot, forced his daughter and then strangled her
in her bed." The Holder looked the man straight in the eye, his own
eyes
narrowing slightly. "Can't you."

Brehos shifted uncomfortably under Morin's intense gaze. His eyes
shifted to Fymer's nervously, wondering just what was going on. Was
this a trap? "I swear, it's as I said. I never touched the girl."

For a long moment, Morin just stared at the man, saying nothing. Finally
he shrugged. "You've kept your part of the bargain. I'll keep mine.
But if I ever see your face again, it's back to the mines. Don't doubt
that. I'm a man of my word." He turned back to the
Harper. "Ready?"

Fymer's face expressed no emotion when he nodded as a reply.

"You stay here, Brehos, and give us a fifteen minute head-start. The
last thing I need is to be seen with an escaped fugitive." Morin
ignored any protest he might have made and nodded to the harper to
proceed him to the path. "And remember, if I ever see your face around
my Hold again, I will have no choice but to send you back to the mines.
I trust there will be no trouble."

Morin fell into step with Fymer as they rounded the stones out of the
cave and started their ascent. He kept an ear out for any sound of
footsteps following, but heard nothing. "So everything's done? It's
enough?"

"Yes, should be," Fymer replied.

"Good. I want no trouble when the Conclave meets." His confirmation
had to go smoothly. He would not risk losing everything he had worked
more than half his life to achieve.

"There should be none," Fymer reassured him. His ears, used to pick
tunes and false notes in music, picked up something. Those pebbles were
falling down in way too regulary to be caused by nature. "What's that?"
His head whipped up skittishly. He didn't want anyone to see them here.

"They're expected," Morin assured him, looking up the path to try to
make out the new comers. "That should be Plegar and his sons."

"Ouh," the harper only said, being quick thinking enough to realize what
it meant. He couldn't resist a glance backwards and superior sneer:
"Good riddance, moron."

Morin looked unrepentant as he caught sight of the middle-aged man,
followed in a line by three of his sons. They all carried some kind of
weapon in their hands. "I hate injustice as much as I hate being lied
to. Brehos is a liar, and he will pay for what he did to that girl.
And I will keep my word. He will never see the inside of a mine again."

Fymer just chuckled wickedly.

"Is he in there?" Plegar asked, his voice just a low whisper.

"He's at the bottom of the path," the Holder nodded. "He's alone, and
there's nowhere for him to go but into the sea. Do as you like, but
mind the tide."

"Don't worry about us," the man said, patting the axe-handle. "Come on
lads, let's show the son of a tunnelwherry what is the price of killing
my little girl."

"And Plegar," Morin said, putting a hand on the chest of the man to stop
him from walking past. "I don't want anyone to ever find Brehos. Burn
him, bury him on the top of the mountain, but don't leave him for the
sea. Bodies have a way of washing up and raising questions. Keep your
son's tongues in check. I feel for you all, for the loss you suffered.
I hope this will give your family peace and closure, and Faranth knows
this is a much more deserved punishment than serving out his turns in a
mine. But I cannot and will not protect you should anyone ever hear
about this. Do you understand?"

"I understand and they do too," Plegar pointed at his sons, his nod was
respectful and full of gratitude.

Morin nodded and dropped his hand. He would forever have his holder's
gratitude, and he would be rid of the most damning witness to his own
transgressions. But what harm was he doing by planting those Records?
He was just cementing his claim to all that was rightfully his. As if
being of the Blood made him any more fit to lead! But that was the
game, and he knew he must play it. Brehos was his pawn, but he deserved
his fate for what he had done. Why should he go on living after taking
the innocence and life of another? They were all just getting what they
deserved after all.

With another nod to Fymer they continued up the path and as far away
from the bloody business as possible. As they rounded the last turn at
the top of the path, he smiled with satisfaction. "Fymer, I'm ready."

Last updated on the June 13th 2011

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A Man of His Word