A History Through Blood

Rugged up in his heavy winter cloak, Leo steered their wagon along the cold, frost-covered roads which were experiencing that last of the winter's chill. Glancing back to his two passengers, he saw that they were both fast asleep in their respective nooks amongst the cargo. Both were mentally and physically exhausted due to the hasty restructuring and restorative efforts of House Geoffrey. They were still in close enough proximity for the regular patrols to lend aid if they were attacked on the open road and could afford to let them rest in the brief respite.

As Leo casually scanned the horizon for any sign of danger, his mind wandered back to his previous employer who was an entitled lord who believed that his slightly elevated social status placed him above common decency and the laws of peasants. It was his stupidity and arrogance that led to his own execution for numerous heinous deeds committed by himself and the soldiers who served his house.

-

At the time Leo had been hired by as both a guide and extra muscle for the son of some lord on the other side of the country. After the initial meeting his client his mind immediately jumped to four conclusions: his parents wanted him out of their house, his parents wanted to broaden his views, his parents were rewarding him for some accomplishment or he had gone rogue with some gold taken from their estate. Leo's money was on the third option, few lords would grow this entitled and unchecked by their advisers. Normally he wouldn't babysit a pompous twat for a wagon of gold, but the contact who recommended him the job could arrange for him a more permanent position for his eventual retirement if he did this job well.

After a week of the insufferable pillion's ignorant opinions on the journey west, the veteran mercenary was at his wits end. At the first sign of safety with-in the bounds of a larger town, he dumped his employer on his body guards and leaving them to their own devices. His need for alcohol and female company led him to a low-class bar far from the more up-scale tavern chosen by the noble git. His recuperation was soon stopped by the growing angry calls for blood from the wealthier districts. His instincts told him that his client's entourage had enraged the local populace with some slimy act, sending Leo into the depths of the chaos to save his client from further invoking the wrath of the local lord. As he ran through the town, he passed several maimed bodies while following the terrified cries for aid. The greedy little twerp really thought he could do as he pleased because he was born into wealth a few territories away.

His previous visits to this particular town had reassured him of his clients safety, given its close proximity to the primary home of one of the more notable lords in the region. His notion of safety presumed that the man had a lick of common sense and wouldn't do something so brazenly stupid to antagonise the entire town's populace. Fortunately or unfortunately, he was not present when his client's men dragged several unwilling women, both wed and unwed, to a nearby dwelling to quote: “sample the local fare, as was the right of any noble.” The many men and women who had complained or tried to step in were brutally repelled by the soldiers travelling under the noble's employ. He had later heard that they had laughed at the old merchant who tried to intervene, said merchant received a rough pommel to the gut for his moral character.

Leo soon found the home that they had commandeered and quickly barged in to provide a crash course of decency and morals. “Can you idiots think with anything but your tackle? You are in another lords lands. Your title might as well be dirt here. We can get you out of this if you stop now.” This not so friendly warning was met with derisive laughter before they returned to their prior un-pleasantries. Seeing the current situation, Leo's priority was to end this incident quickly and leave with his client with minimal punishment. He had been seen by the guards and shop-keepers travelling with them, meaning their actions were his actions through association.

The lord, who sat with frightened barmaid in each arm, had taken Leo's attempts to deescalate the situation as a challenge to his authority and rebuked him 'as was his job.' “They said you were worth the coin I paid for your services, I can see now how wrong those moronic advisers were.” Each word uttered by the noble glowed with his own sense of self-importance, “Your services are no longer needed. Show him what it means to disrespect a great man, such as myself. Remove our former guide. Oh! And make a painful example of him!”

That was how Lord Redford found Leo brawling in the street with several partially clothed knights in-front of various enraged on lookers. The local guards quickly separated the fight and arrested everyone from his now former party, bringing them to his castle to hold court. The mob of peasants followed behind them in almost singular entity who rather quickly composed their outraged temperament as they entered the lord's castle. The assembled common folk knew how their lord handled such matters and where his values lay, their mere presence was enough to have their voices heard.

Only once the egotistical lord found himself shackled and bound did he realise that he was in trouble. His, now former, party was dragged before the sitting lord. All but Leo had protested their treatment at the hands of a fellow Lord, citing notions of privilege and divine right. “Do not believe that we are equals,” sneered Lord Redford, silencing all complaints in a single cold glare. “I am but a mere Lord in name only, my word is equal to that of a Baron and my reach is far more so. I can assure you that I am personally backed by various Barons and Advisers in the Royal court. You have tried to touch that which does not belong to you and, for your added misfortune, harmed a fellow noble of your rank in addition to those under my protection.” His words, dripping with authority and disdain silenced the group. “You assert your so called rights as a sitting lord, but you have yet to realise how little they mean. Only your hired muscle shows any signs of remorse, I suggest you learn a lesson from him.”

The trial was relatively swift, with most of the visiting noble's party being charged with: assault, rape and other violent crimes. The aggrieved noble's family had joined in on the murderous demands for execution for their brazen immoral actions, increasing their charges severity even more. Only Leo was exempted from being trailed with the group, thanks to various witnesses had confirmed his lack of involvement in this incident and his attempts to intervene. Execution was quickly sentenced, appeasing the crowd, with the great lord Redford performing the task personally. Severing their heads with his great sword in rapid succession, delegating the clean up to his staff. Leo's punishment, for striking a noble above his class, was two years detainment with-in the castle dungeons.

-

His incarceration would evidently be fairly a tolerable experience. He had been placed in a cell near the medical room, located by the passage adjoining the secondary hallway to the prisons beneath the castle. Lord Redford had seemed to approve of Leo, or at least of his actions, enough for him to spare him from a death sentence. His word had been enough to satisfy those crying “guilt by association,” that still lingered across the province. Many still held him equally as guilty and would likely harm him if Leo were to walk around the town in the coming months. His cold cell also contained a few more pleasantries than his neighbours damp abode, granting him better bedding and slightly better food.

It had not taken long to memorise the daily schedule. Meals were brought twice daily, everyone was washed weekly and each prisoner would receive a health examination on a semi-regular basis. These 'exams' were carried out by either the noble's apothecary or his young assistant, regularly drawing blood as to remove impurities. It was one of the more habitable prison cells he had seen, there was still the occasional torture or additional punishment where needed, as to deter repeat violations. His attitude and actions had spared him from many of the violent aspects of his current predicament.

The apothecary, known to most of the castle and surrounding lands, as Rabbi Abel. The man had been Rabbi in central Europe, having been forced out of his temple over theological disputes and somehow ended up across the isle as a medical practitioner. While he still kept up his appearance and dress in line with the Jewish faith, that was as far as his public adherence to whatever faith he held. His assistant was a young girl in her mid-teens, despite the constant visits and small talk, he could never get a read on her. Occasionally, he would glance into her hazel eyes mid-examination to find them constantly thinking and assessing her surroundings. From his cell he observed what little he could, noting how she adjusted her bed-side manner with each prisoner. Doing what she could to maintain her own safety and avoid leaving any negative memories on those who would hold grudges. The few prisoners who would return to their wealth or higher status would receive slightly better care, fostering good will for both: her and the house she served.

During one of the regular check ups he had asked for her name during the limited window for small talk he was afforded. The only answer she gave was: “Call me what you like, I have no attachment to my birth name. It holds little value to me.” The matter-of-fact tone the assistant held regarding her own name caught him off guard, the flippant disregard of her family seemed to show on his face. “If my birth parents couldn't be bothered to remember my name, I am not sure why I should. Now, relax your arm so I can make my incision cleanly.”

That night, Abel wandered down to his cell with a chair and some alcohol. “I asked the Lord about your case, it is a right shame on how it has to be. How about we share a drink, to all of the injustice in the world.” He then called out the guard who, for a quiet transaction of liquor, locked him inside the cell with Leo. They traded stories between them until the early hours of the morning, from Abel's travels in Europe to Leo's skirmishes on England's shores. Eventually Leo asked about the girl, “What is story of your assistant? She ain't mad, at least by my standards, but she isn't normal.” Abel sighed, “That one is … rather troubled. She knows where she stands better than most and tries to improve her situation accordingly. She always removes herself from any situation, removing any personal attachment.” They each took a sip from their liquor, before the former-Rabbi continued “I suspect it developed from a coping mechanism. Her parents weren't great people and, at some point, gifted her to the lord of the manor in exchange for residency. There was a rumour in neighbouring lands about the rather unique tastes of his wife, so they tried their luck. It is not a pleasant rumour and I dare not repeat it, but know that its something one wouldn't do to their child they cared about.”

Rabbi Abel swirled the dregs of his drink around the mostly empty mug, “She is here because Wymond...” He winced at his break in concentration, eventually accepting his own slip of the tongue and continued with his tale. “I mean Lord Redford, noticed her potential and placed her under my tutelage. Whatever misgivings I had about her were quickly thrown away as she did anything I asked her to, regardless of gore or smell. Having grown up around sickness and death, I am surprised that she has not been worn down by handling cadavers regularly or treating unsightly diseases.”

The old rabbi suddenly chuckled, “that reminds me. You should've heard what she called herself when she was introduced. She called herself Worm.” His drunken cackles echoed through the stone dungeons, waking up several prisoners. “The girl had latched on to Lord Redford's words and took that as her name. Who hears 'I expect nothing from you as, you are no more than a worm in my eyes' and uses that to form their own name.” Collapsing back onto Leo's bed, his tipsy tone turned to sorrow. “It's truly a shame, the lady of the manor give her a proper name a few months back. Even now, she never tells anyone. Who uses the name for some lowly insect over a name like Victoria?” Leo fell asleep, contemplating on if he should use the information to unsettle his warden and ultimately abandoned the notion.