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“GO TO HELL!”
“Fuck off, you little prick!” There was a faint whistling and Hans scrambled sideways as something dark, smelly and wet splattered into the ground where he’d been standing just a moment before.
Hans stared at the gooey mass as a swarm of flies began to circle it. It was poop. Someone had thrown a lump of poop at him. They’d lobbed it from below right over the wall and into Pirkstein’s garden. They weren’t allowed to do that!
“You can’t throw that!” Hans shouted over the wall, “I could have you hanged!” He probably could, at least. He’d heard Hanush use that sort of threat before on peasants when they were being rude, and it normally shut them up.
“You’ve been screaming at me to go to hell every day for over a year now, you little shit!” The rude peasant shouted back over the wall. “I’ll damn well throw whatever I like!”
Hans puffed out his cheeks at the affront and stamped his foot against the ground as hard as he could, which was enough to sound a soft thud. Not quite as loud as the poop splatter, but the rage of the stomp made it a thunderclap in Hans’ head. “This is my castle and you can’t throw your poop at me in it!”
“Hans!” snapped a voice that immediately had Hans biting his tongue. Hanush must of snuck up behind him while he was distracted. His arms were crossed and he looked all angry and scowly. He jabbed a finger towards the lump of poop whilst the peasant shouted something over the wall. “What is this?” Hanush asked sharply.
“Some rude peasant threw that in here, I was just playing by myself and they tried to… to kill me!” Hans explained.
Hanush’ face remained stony as he stared down at Hans, seemingly quite unimpressed at the explanation. But Hans was couldn’t say anything else, he’d get in trouble if he did.
“They tried to kill you with shit?”
“Yes.” Hans nodded emphatically.
“Jesus Christ save me,” Hanush muttered. “You’ll explain this properly later. For now we have guests to meet.”
“Ugh, can’t I stay here? I was having fun.” Hans wheedled. All of Hanush’ guests were just boring old men who only wanted to talk about grain and silver and stuff! They wouldn’t even tell Hans about bloody wars and battles, even if he asked nicely.
“You’re coming because I said so, and because apparently I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you getting shit smeared all over the garden.” Hanush took a step towards him and Hans sighed before scuttling over to his side. Hanush would literally drag him along if he didn’t go on his own, and that always made his arm hurt.
Hanush gave a soft grunt and a short nod as Hans obeyed him, even if reluctantly. He followed Hanush along out the garden and through the courtyard. As his uncle started up the steps into Pirkstein itself, Hans finally thought to ask–
“Who’s the guest?”
“Sir Radzig.”
“Which one was he?”
“Tall, brown hair, smart mouth… uh, little moustache. He’s the Lord of Skalitz.” Hanush explained as he took the stairs two at a time. Hans had to rush to keep up.
“I see,” he puffed, “Sir Radzig.”
“You’ve forgotten who he is, haven’t you?”
“No.” Hans lied.
“Of course.” Hanush led him into Pirkstein and down the hall to the dining room. Over the thump of Hanush’ footsteps, Hans could hear a faint murmuring voice.
It sounded soft, but sad. The sort of voice that grownups used when they talked about Hans’ father. It wasn’t a voice he liked much. He paused and waited in the hall as Hanush continued on ahead. Something in his belly was knotting up, and he felt a discomforting shiver.
Maybe he’d eaten another demon.
“Radzig!” Hanush’ voice boomed down the hall and the soft murmuring stopped. “It’s been too long, I was starting to fear you’d settled down, what with the news.”
“Not quite. But someone has to make sure the mines plod along properly.”
“The dull work that keeps the country going, eh? Well we–Hans!” Hanush shouted. “Hans get in here!”
That shocked Hans’ legs into working again. He ran the last few steps down the hall and into the dining room. Hanush gave a quick glance Hans’ way as he scrambled into the room, then turned back to another man who must have been Sir Radzig. Hanush was right, he did have a strange little moustache and beard. But his face beneath that looked nice. Not nice like a pretty girl, or a flower, but sort of nice like Captain Bernard was when he let Hans look at his sword, and would tell him stories about fights he’d won with it. Nice in a way that Hans couldn’t properly remember.
Having to crane his neck up to look at Radzig, he didn’t notice the boy standing at his side until he coughed softly. He may have been close to Hans’ age, but he looked a little scruffy. His tunic was finely stitched and his belt looked shiny, but he wore a ratty, red scarf around his neck and was goggling, wide-eyed as he swung his head around to take in the room.
He was probably stupid, Hans decided. “Sir Radzig,” Hans said with a short bow of his head “Welcome to Pirkstein.” He’d said those words dozens of times, to each and every visiting Lord. Even if he wasn’t fully in charge, Pirkstein was still his castle, and everyone should remember it.
“Thank you for the warm welcome, Sir Capon.” Radzig bowed in turn. He was smiling, just a little. “Your hospitality marks the fine man you’ll grow into.”
Hans preened and beamed at that. Hanush never paid him such nice compliments.
“Don’t go saying that Radzig, you’ll give the boy a swollen head.”
“Nothing wrong with a little pride,” Radzig replied. “Speaking of boys though,” Radzig put a hand on the stupid boy’s shoulder and he jumped at the touch, “Sir Capon, this is my son, Henry. Would you be so kind as to entertain him for a while?”
“Your son?” That was difficult to believe. Radzig seemed very nice and clever, immediately seeing Hans for just how noble he was. Henry was just staring at him with that same gawkiness that he seemed to look at everything with. Those wide eyes swung up to look at Radzig. Hans noticed that he had one hand clinging to the edge of Radzig’s pourpoint like a girl with their mother’s skirt.
Henry looked back to Hans and held up a hand to wave at him. “Hello. Um… my Lord?”
The boy was definitely simple. Maybe one of those special sorts who ended up locked away in the dungeons. Hans had seen them taking one in once, he screamed and raved about how the judgement of God was coming for everyone and they’d all be sent straight to hell. He was funny, at least, and he taught Hans his favourite game.
“Hello,” Hans replied, because he had to.
“See, Radzig, they’re getting along already. Okay, Hans you go take Henry to the courtyard to play. Not the garden.”
“I’m sensing a story here.” Radzig chuckled.
“Not one you want to know.”
Radzig ushered Henry towards Hans and the boy left his father’s side with a few backwards glances. Hanush quickly took his place, swinging his arm around Radzig’s shoulder and pulling him into some boring, adult conversation.
“Come on then,” Hans took hold of Henry’s warm, sweaty hand and dragged him out of the room. He hardly ever got to see other boys his own age, at least not ones who were nobles. It wouldn’t do to spend too much time with serfs, so having a playmate, even if they were simple, would open up a whole new world of games.
“You’re Sir Capon?” Henry asked as Hans led him along.
“I’m Sir Hans Capon,” Hans corrected, “Lord of Pirkstein. Which is this castle, by the way.”
“Wow, you have a whole castle!”
“What, don’t you? You’re Sir Henry what? Lord of nothing?” Hans laughed aloud and Henry gave his hand a sharp squeeze.
“My–my father says he’s going to talk to the King about that!”
Hans couldn’t imagine why he’d need to do that. Surely Henry would just inherit Radzig’s lands when he died.
“That’s weird.”
“No it’s not!”
It definitely was. But Henry probably wouldn’t understand why, being simple and all.
“Fine. The courtyard’s just out here.” Hans led Henry out into the sunlight. It was a hot and glarey morning, just at the start of Summer, it’d probably get bakingly hot and send everyone scurrying for shelter and cold ale by the time lunch came around while the air went all wobbly and shimmery.
A pair of guards were chatting idly whilst they leaned in the shade of the wall, but otherwise the courtyard was empty. It’d be pretty funny if Captain Bernard were to show up. He’d yell and bellow at the two of them for slacking off while Sir Hanush had important visitors.
Hans stood on his toes and shaded his eyes, hoping for a glimpse of that familiar shaven head.
“What are you doing?” Henry asked.
“Nothing.” He couldn’t catch sight of Bernard anywhere, he might not be so lucky as to see a tongue lashing.
“Come on, we can play swords.” Hans lead Henry down the stairs and began looking around for where he’d dropped his wooden swords. He had a couple, Henry could use one of his old ones. He was a little shorter than Hans anyway.
“Wow, I never had a proper sword before.” Hans turned around to find that Henry had somehow sniffed out one of his swords first. He was holding it up in the sunlight, beaming just as bright himself as he looked it over. It was the first time that Hans had seen him not looking like a complete dolt.
“Where’d you find that?”
“It was sitting by the stairs.”
“Well that’s my favourite one, hand it over. We’ll find another one for you.”
“Can’t I use this one? I’ll just be borrowing it.”
“No! Get your father to get you your own sword.”
“Pa doesn’t like me playing with… swords…” The smile ran away from Henry’s face, and he let the tip of the blade thump against the ground.
“Why wouldn’t Radzig want you using swords?” It was the job of nobles to fight for peasants. It’s what made them special and important. Everyone knew that.
“No, no!” Henry shook his head wildly, and his free hand snaked up to catch his scarf in a deathgrip. “Not Radzig, my Pa! My Pa’s a blacksmith and he said that I shouldn’t use swords because I could get hurt and and he-he.” Henry coughed and sniffled and choked on his next words as he began crying. Fat tears and snot oozed their way down his face. “He got sick and Ma, Ma says he’s with God and Jesus. And Radzig says he’s my-my–”
“Shut up!” Hans snapped. The snivelling was stupid, and unfair, and worst of all it hurt to listen to when he was supposed to be having fun. By the nonsense Henry was spouting Hans had put together that he was upset about his favourite blacksmith dying or something. You don’t get to cry over people dying all the time. Hans didn’t, that sort of thing was for girls.
“You shut up!” Henry coughed and sniffed, red in the face.
“Why? Do you want a pretty dress instead of a sword, you dumb girl?”
Henry growled and dropped the sword, just as Hans was about to make some other comment, Henry launched himself at him with a shout.
–#--
“So you decided to acknowledge the boy then?” Hanush made himself comfy, settling into his chair. Radzig couldn’t strike up any such feelings of coziness, not when the subject of the conversation needled him so.
“I didn’t have much choice. Martin took ill two months ago. It seemed nothing at first, just some passing cold, but it got worse. Swiftly. I had a herbalist look him over, they gave him some medicine. It… didn’t work.” The old woman had said it was a bad reaction, the sort of thing that happened from time to time. Radzig wanted to believe it wasn’t his doing that Henry had been put through the loss of a father, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Martin would have pulled through on his own.
“And the boy’s mother?”
“I’ve given her work, some security.”
“Is that all you’ve given her?” Hanush asked with a cheeky smile.
Radzig grimaced at the thought. “Martin is barely in the ground, this is no time for something like that.” Not that it hadn’t entered Radzig’s mind more than once. But he told himself that if he truly cared for Jana, then he’d best give her time.
“It might be good for Henry too. Keeping his mother in his life, perhaps he could have a brother too.”
“It’s certainly not the time for that. Besides, I’m sure he and Hans will–”
Radzig was cut off by the door being slammed open by a panicked guard. “My Lords! We need your help in the courtyard!”
“What’s happened? Are the boys okay?” Radzig was on his feet in a heartbeat, already advancing on the guard. He heard the soft scrape of a chair behind him as Hanush rose with some less urgency.
“Uh well, mostly, they just–”
At the word ‘mostly’ Radzig shoved past the man. He didn’t break into a sprint, that’d be undignified, but he got close. Flashes of Henry screaming and wailing with some awful injury flashed through his mind. He’d made a damned promise. He was hardly a perfect man, but he’d like to at least be a man of his word for his son.
He heard what was happening before he saw it.
“Shut up! Shut up! You can’t be mean about Pa!” That was a clearly furious Henry.
“Hang him! Hang him! He’s striking a Lord!” And an equally incensed Capon.
Then as he left the castle, he caught sight of the two boys. Both were rolling around in the dirt, flailing little fists flying as both tried to beat each others’ faces. Another guard stood just to the side of the boys, head darting back and forth between the two, hands reaching forth and then holding back periodically as if he was afraid to touch them.
Radzig solved that problem.
He quickly made his way to the two struggling boys, and grabbed each by the arm, wrenching them apart and pulling them to their feet.
“How dare you! I was just– oh, Sir Radzig.” Capon looked a bit dizzy, and there was a nasty redness around his left eye that was likely to develop into some unsightly bruising.
Henry for his part was silent, just gulping down huge, shaky breaths. A steady stream of blood flowed down his nose, mixing with tears and snot as they made their way towards his old scarf.
Reluctantly, Radzig let go of Capon. “Stay there,” he said firmly.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Hans muttered and somehow Radzig doubted that.
He sank to one knee and pulled an old rag from his pocket. He’d taken to carrying them around since he began looking after Henry. Children got into messes at the most inopportune times. He began scrubbing at Henry’s face to clean off the grime and reveal the blotchy skin underneath.
“What happened?” He asked his son.
“He, he called me a girl. And he was mean about Pa.”
“He struck me without reason! He’s mad!” Hans tried to shout over Henry. And Radzig silenced him with a look.
“You’ll get your turn to explain,” he said calmly.
Hanush finally decided to make himself known then, he barked a laugh as he surveyed the scene.
“Well, I thought it might take a little bit longer before the two of them tried to kill each other. Maybe an hour or two.”
Radzig had been hoping that they’d get along. Henry’s old friends wouldn’t play with him anymore, afraid of breaching social etiquette in their games; it'd get better with time, he hoped. But a lad needed friends his own age.
“You see to your son, I’ll go calm down his Lordship,” Hanush said softly before he went to drag Hans away for a private talk.
Radzig set himself quietly to cleaning up Henry. He’d torn his new shirt in three places, he was covered in mud, and his knuckles were scraped and bleeding. He’d have to wash those off.
“So, you and Hans got into a bit of an argument.”
“I hate him. He’s stupid and selfish. He didn’t want to share his sword and said I should have a dress because I was a girl.”
“Well, that wasn’t very nice of him. But what would your mother say about that?” Radzig asked and Henry shrunk in on himself shyly.
“She’d say, I shouldn’t hit someone just because they’re rude.”
“And she’d be right.” God knows enough wars were started by frail egos, he wouldn’t have Henry picking fights over nothing. His lineage was sure to draw its fair share of cruel comments as he grew, and he’d need to face them with grace.
“But-but what should I do then?” Henry blubbered, he waved a hand vaguely towards where Hans was getting a dressing down by Hanush.
“Be the better man, Henry. Stop, and breathe, and walk away. No one’s impressed by someone who flies off in a rage all the time.”
Henry was silent for a little while while Radzig finished cleaning him. Then he said in a small voice.
“I was sad about Pa.”
“Henry… it’s alright.” Radzig knew he sounded weak and uncertain. But what else could he say to that? It was a bold lie, Martin’s death wasn’t something that could be smoothed over with some small consolation, and it wasn’t something that’d just go away. Henry would have to carry that weight all his days.
“Can we go back to Skalitz?” Henry murmured.
“Not yet, I’ve got some business in the city. But I can take you to our rooms at the Upper Castle if you’d rather.”
Henry nodded mutely at that and Radzig held back a sigh. It seemed he wouldn’t have much luck in getting Henry a new friend.
He rose and took Henry’s hand.
“Sorry Hanush, it seems I have to get this little brawler cleaned off. Do you mind if we continue our talk in an hour or two?” Radzig forced down the worry, layering over it with false cheer and good humour.
“Fine by me, Radzig. The bailiff was wanting to speak with me today anyway. If I’m not here, then I’ll be at his office.” Hanushed ushered Hans away then closed the distance with Radzig. “We’ll try with the boys again tomorrow,” he said quietly.
“I don’t know if that’s wise.” He spared a glance for Henry, who was glaring after Hans as he retreated around the back of the castle.
“Oh, everyone Hans has ever met wants to beat his smug little face into a pulp. I’d say Henry trying to do it bodes well. Might make Capon think twice before running his mouth.”
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt too much to try.” Radzig vowed quietly that he’d keep a closer eye on the two of them next time.
“Trust me, young boys will go from fighting each other to fighting for each other faster than you’d think. You remember our first meeting?”
Radzig furrowed his brow. “I’m not quite sure that I do.”
“Probably because I laid you out cold!” Hanush crowed. “And now look at us.”
It didn’t seem too likely, but, for Henry’s sake, he supposed it was worth trying.