Tales of the Old World by Marc Gascoigne, Christian Dunn (ed) - (ebook by Undead) Read Free Book Online Page B

saw that many of the
open wounds on the man’s body had more than a hint of mouth to them, some even
having twisted vestigial teeth and gums protruding from the grey meat of the
body.
    “The man was an altered,” said Carlomax. “He deserved to die.”
    Leofric nodded. The mutating power of Chaos had warped the dead man’s flesh
into this morbidly repulsive form for some unguessable purpose and the horror of
it sickened him.
    The power of Chaos was a foulness that infected the minds of the weak with
promises of easy power and immortality, but it inevitably led to corruption and
death, though such a fate never seemed to deter others from believing they could
master it.
    “I’ve seen enough,” he said, turning and marching up the stairs. He needed to
be out of that foetid darkness and away from the disgusting vision of the
mutated corpse. He emerged into the sunlight, taking a deep breath of fresh air
and feeling his head clear almost instantly as he moved away from the building.
    “You see now why this happened?” asked Carlomax, following Leofric back into
the daylight above.
    Leofric nodded, but said, “It won’t make any difference though.”
    Carlomax shook his head. “It has to. When people see what happened here and
why, justice will prevail.”
    “Justice?”
    “Yes, justice,” snapped Carlomax. “That is the code of the
Herrimaults, to uphold justice where the law has failed and to reject the dark
gods and to fight against them at all times.”
    “The Herrimaults truly have a code of honour?”
    “We do,” said Carlomax defiantly.
    “Tell me of it,” said Leofric.
     
    As the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, Leofric sat on the edge of
the palisade wall looking out over the surrounding lands, his thoughts confused
and uncertain. When he had first heard of Derrevin Libre, he had been horrified
at the upsetting of the natural order of things and branded the Herrimaults as
little better than brigands, but the day spent with Carlomax had disabused him
of that notion.
    The man’s brother had been hung for smiling at a noble’s daughter and his
mother crippled by a beating for weeping at the execution. Small wonder he had
turned to the life of an outlaw.
    Carlomax had told him how he had later abducted the noble’s daughter,
intending to rape and torture her, but had found that he had not the stomach for
such vileness, and had released her unharmed.
    How much of that story was true, he didn’t know for sure, but Carlomax had an
integrity to him that Leofric had quickly recognised and despite his initial
misgivings, he found he believed the man. The code of the Herrimaults had
impressed him, its tenets not unfamiliar to a knight such as he; to protect the
innocent, to uphold justice, to be true to your fellows and to fight the powers
of Chaos wherever they are found.
    Following such a code, Carlomax might himself have been a knight were it not
for his low birth. And from what Leofric had seen around Derrevin Libre, he
couldn’t argue that Carlomax had created a functioning society for its people
that was superior to the lot of the majority of Bretonnian peasants.
    The night’s darkness was absolute and Leofric knew that come the morning he
and Havelock would ride to the city of Aquitaine itself to warn the duke of the
threat gathering in the north of his lands.
    Filled with such gloomy thoughts, Leofric did not hear Havelock approach, his
squire appearing absurdly cheerful, though he was not surprised. To another
peasant, Derrevin Libre must seem like paradise and Leofric found that he could
not find it in himself to disagree.
    “You should get some sleep, it’s going to be a long day tomorrow and you
still haven’t got your strength back yet… my lord,” said Havelock and Leofric
couldn’t help but notice the tiniest hesitation before he had added “my lord”.
    “I know,” said Leofric.
    Havelock nodded, suddenly awkward and Leofric said, “Do you want to