Charis organised three teams, Dione and Otonia, Astera and Thyia, finally herself and Helice. Charis and Helice would guard the Gate in shifts, with Charis using her alerts in the dead of night. Dione and Otonia would observe the prisoners in shifts from the stable, Astera and Thyia to do likewise from the barracks. Dirce and Drosis would stay at the barracks as a reserve. The warrior-sisters would stand on shift and call upon the Initiates if or when required.

There were not enough of them or Guards to patrol the walls and they accepted anyone could make it into the Keep if they wanted. They barred the Gate at dusk and checked to ensure the doors into the keep remained barred from the inside. Half of the Guards took shifts in the Main Hall to protect the Keep. The other half took shifts watching over the prisoners. The plan was to convince the prisoners the Keep Guards were their sole overseers, and no one else kept any eyes on them.

Charis spent time placing alerts at the Keep’s entrances, stables, and barracks when she knew she was alone and unobserved. She thought about near the prisoners, they would witness her and wonder what she was doing and she needed the spell and the casting of magic to remain a secret. She could cast before they tied the prisoners to the stakes, although others could observed her in the courtyard, still not ideal. She settled on what she could, where she could under cover of darkness.

Charis and Helice climbed high up in the Gatehouse. From the Gatehouse, they could observe inside the Keep as well as over the village.

The moving of the prisoners was an exercise in itself. After some initial fumbling, they treated them as battlefield casualties and carried them in a stretcher type arrangement, after rolling them on to it in the Main Hall. They then took them outside and rolled them to position their back against a stake, sat them up and tied them by the hands and waist to their stake.

Charis considered other possible ways to restrain them and in the end gave up, what was done would need to last a couple of days. When completed Charis left Helice at the Keep’s Gate and checked each of the prisoners to ensure they were secure and returned to the Gate as satisfied as she could be. Eventually their evil and their stench over the coming days would make the area an undesirable swill, mentally and physically respectively.

Charis convinced the Baron to arm the guards with blunt weapons. A blunt weapon enough to hurt a near naked man and not enough to damage an armoured man, including the average armour the guards used if they lost the weapon in a struggle for example. Charis was preparing to guard them for at least two nights then Apelles would arrive and accept responsibility for them including judging them.

During the afternoon Helice guarded the Keep’s Gate to allow Charis to satisfy her curiosity.

“You leave us then Mistress Charis?” asked a honey sweet voice.

Charis nudged her horse with her knees to face her accuser, hiding her concern well before the bride to be could recognise it.

“I need to check something in the village, I will return within a couple of bells, Baroness.”

She giggled and babbled, flattered when called by her promised title, exactly the response Charis desired. Caught in her own cleverness Charis didn’t spur her horse away in time.

“I am not Baroness yet, although I am certain the Baron adores and appreciates me. Unlike some warrior-sisters I suspect.”

Charis waited for the Baroness to continue, nothing to gain by guessing at her meaning.

“Well it is you stay silent. I remember a similar after thirst while being escorted here. Can I assume I was indeed troublesome enough you felt the need to force me to sleep?”

As she spoke, the Baroness’ foot tap increased until she stamped it.

“Baroness, we needed to make time and your horse riding skills, were perhaps erm … exaggerated when you were first placed into our care. We needed to quickly, and quietly ride around a location of great danger. Your safety was our primary consideration, I apologise on behalf of my sisters and myself for any offense.” Charis finished with a small bow from her saddle. Charis should have dismounted and didn’t as she was eager to ride away.

“Perhaps, considering our Keep is now liberated from those fiends, the Baron is overjoyed with you; therefore it would be silly for me to be upset with you.”

Charis started guiding her horse away.

“I would be honoured if you and your sisters would attend our wedding. Please say you can, please!”

Seeing the Baroness cavorting around excited, happily smiling, and squealing Charis paused for a moment of pity for the Baron and then dismissed it.

“Baroness, I am still not certain of our future, I would not enter into a promise, which I could break through no fault of my own.” Charis used her sweetest and most polite voice in return.

The Baroness stared at Charis, her hands clenched by her sides, her brow furrowed.

“I offer you great honour Charis, Daughter of the Duchess and a maybe is all that is returned. Your affront is not acceptable I say and I am the Baroness.” The words eased out of her mouth, without volume, she obviously expected Charis to obey.

Charis felt the strong urge to dismount, grab her and place her over her knee, she resisted.

“In the days to come the Baron will require a strong wife for the hardships yet to be, an intelligent wife to support him with wisdom and you must rise to this challenge Baroness.”

The Baroness smiled, not pleasant and welcoming, and not friendly, instead cold and calculating. Charis sensed an illusion coming down. The Baroness grabbed the horse’s bridle, and dragged the horses head down to ensure Charis faced her.

“Charis the Young is wise beyond her years I was told. Charis the Young has a mystery about her. Well Charis the Young you aren’t wise enough to see through my act. My friend the Lord of the Northern Watch told me about you and before him, the Duchess of the Duchy mentored me in many things important. Now you are wondering why I tell you this.”

Charis noticed the Baroness relaxed easily after her, erm display. She needed to show the required level of interest from her horseback seat though to keep the Baroness enthralled to continue and reveal more.

“I want you gone from this Barony as soon as possible. There is a swirl of uncertainty and chaos about you, which you sweep people into when you are near them. I am certain the Duke and the Duchess are plotting their own plan for you. I don’t care about either, as I have none unless you stay longer than is presently required. We reached an understanding Charis the Young?”

“It is enlightening to finally meet the real you. I didn’t envision the Duchess sponsoring a brainless Lady, although with noble bloodlines, you never know. I need to repeat my wedding invitation response, which is unfortunately, I can’t promise.”

The baroness clenched both of her hands again irritated by Charis’ words, tensing her body as she did. With the bridle now free Charis used that moment to guide her horse away and spur it to a gallop.

“So you know! I am a far better horse rider than you are, Charis the Young!” the Baroness shouted.

Charis beamed as she waved at Helice, riding through the Keep’s Gate and into the village, finally on her way.

“What did you say to the Baroness to cause her to yell at you about horse riding Mistress; I need all the details when you return,” Helice sent.

How Charis wished to reply, she tried of course, in vain and kept riding.

---

Charis dismounted and walked her horse closer. It appeared exactly as she left it, although perhaps she didn’t exactly remember it anymore. She tied her horse, paused, and then gradually faced her past, taking one-step towards her father’s Smithy. The quiet then broken by a young voice, sounding brave.

“We are closed, go away.”

The voice echoed from the back of the Smithy, the shadows, and various tools providing excellent cover for its owner.

“I mean no harm; I need the skills of a blacksmith, would you be him?” Charis asked, knowing the truth.

She heard scurrying and a tool fall over. Charis cracked a smile. Then footfalls up a set of stairs, Charis approached the Smithy to hear them. Once under its roof she could examine the Smithy itself. Most of the Smithy displayed an unhealthy, for a business, quantity of spider webs and dust.

“Who are you?” said the gravelled voice, growling although asking a question and no more.

“I am the daughter of the owner of this Smithy.” Charis held out the ownership papers.

“They will do you no good girl.” He held up his hand to prevent Charis’s protest.

“I can’t read and your horse, the armour, and arms you wear and carry are worth more than this Smithy … I wonder why you bother.”

Charis certain before her stood Halius’ former bodyguard. While he appeared a touch unkempt, wild hair and morning shadow, nothing could disguise his voice. She couldn’t stop herself.

“What are you smiling at girl?”

“You don’t remember me, I am shocked,” Charis pretended.

He studied the over confident female youngster in front of him, shook his head once and then blinked. Her raven black hair confused him.

“Let me see your ears, Miss,” he asked.

“Are you allowed to ask a lady to do that?” she finished with a smile. She also noticed a young boy in the shadows, also a slightly older or at least taller boy, they were both using the shadows of the Smithy. Meanwhile the former bodyguard placed his hands on his hips and furrowed his brow, waiting.

Charis drew her hair back and with her arms raised, the former bodyguard rushed her and hugged her easily lifting her off her feet, swinging her around in a full circle.

“Welcome home Miss, I wish your father could see you now.” He then placed her carefully back to ground and took a step back, his massive hands still on her shoulders.

“Come over here you two rascals and greet the owner of the Smithy. Best manners and respect.”

They paused and stared at each other and as they stepped forward, they dragged their hands over benches and tools trying to delay them from their fate. Charis and the Bodyguard waited in silence.

“Hello Miss,” the taller boy said, bowing his head slightly.

“Hello Miss,” the younger boy said, bowing his head imitating the other.

“Hello and thank you for making me welcome.”

They grinned, showing their teeth and then ran off back to the shadows of the Smithy.

“As you can tell they are a little shy, I found them wandering in the village after their parents died, different families. A certain farmer keeps us fed in exchange for Smithing and labouring on his farm. It isn’t much, still we appreciate it is enough.”

“I noticed the Smithy hardly used, I guess people are searching more for food than iron these days.”

“Yes Miss, the Smithy is a home at present, not a business I am sorry. I hope you weren’t expecting any wealth.”

Charis noticed him briefly wring his hands and then consciously place them behind his back.

“No, Aimmon I am not here to change your settled ways. It is satisfying to know someone is present and caring. By a quirk of fate, I also own the Inn and business there is as healthy as it is here unfortunately. When the Keep and village return to prosperous times, you are welcome to keep any profit. I wish to own it in memory of my father, beyond that it is yours to operate as you see fit.”

“Thank you Miss, your generosity is unexpected and in some way expected.”

“I am my father’s daughter and he valued people and friendship over goods and chattels.”

A tug on her black leather trousers alerted her to the presence of the shorter boy, he pointed to the taller boy who offered her a seat in a well-worn chair in front of him, slightly to the rear of the Smithy. Charis glanced at Aimmon, questioning.

“It is a surprise from your father and I can say no more.”

Charis brought both of her hands to her chest steeling herself and swallowing back some sorrow.

When she plopped down, the chair groaned and held. The taller boy showed her two pieces of jewellery by handling them around from behind her.

“Your father sent moulds to the city to a jeweller to make them, as your gift to allow you to walk the village without fear or difference. They returned after you left and I have kept them ever since. The boys fingers are much more nibble and adept than mine, plus he has been practising for this day. He doesn’t know you, but is grateful for his home and waits each day for the ears these will fit.”

Charis examined the silver Jewellery and couldn’t discover how they attached. The boy realised her confusion or realised it was challenging from his own attempts and his nimble fingers demonstrated. The fitting obvious once you knew. She also realised the value of the two pieces.

“Why didn’t you sell these for food?” She blurted the words out, shocked by the realisation.

“I could not betray my Master, who was also my friend. As you say, your father valued people and friendship over goods and chattels, as do I. In any case these belong to you and being the last gift from your father no one else has the right to them.”

“Th, this, could hurt Miss,” the quiet voice, stuttered, its owner peering over her shoulder.

Charis faced him and a smile flickered on her lips to reassure the boy.

“They clamp in, an arm clips around the back of the ear. The mechanism needs a partial ear to attach to so I waited, keen for this day to try it and see what it looks like.” His hand darted to his mouth realising the possible insult. When she didn’t flinch or berate him, he relaxed again, relieved, he nimbly manipulated the silver jewellery to purpose.

Charis felt some adjustments while on the ear, then trial and error and finally finished.

“They fit perfectly, a couple of heartbeats to attach and remove. The silver chain on each falls loosely from the top of the ear to an anchor point at the ear lobe. One day I hope to learn the skill to create jewellery such as this, although I am learning blacksmithing first.”

He quieted when done, admiring Charis’ silver ear tops in place. The bodyguard ruffled his hair and only then, he slid back to the shadows of the Smithy to re-join the younger boy.

“They are good boys, just shy. They are friendly and outspoken with the farmer and his boy and toil well enough on the farm.”

As he turned to face Charis, he noticed her eyes reddening.

“No need for tears Miss. Your ears are whole and magnificent, if I am permitted to be so bold.”

Charis wiped her tears away before they took hold and raised her head.

“I am overjoyed, I can’t say anymore and I must go. Please ensure you tell anyone who asks, you met Charis the Young today, as my old name is no longer safe.” Charis didn’t wait for a reply, she swivelled on the chair and ran to her horse, quickly untying it and once in the saddle spurring it to a gallop.

The two younger boys raced from the shadows to stand on either side of the bodyguard, safe in his presence, he then wrapped an arm around each. Their eyes followed Charis ride off while they tried to determine what, if any change, her visit would portend.

+++

The night passed without incident, the prisoners uncomfortably in place, tired and miserable. An overpowering vomit inducing whiff gathered around them and each of the Keep’s servants watered and fed them once, vowing never to attend them again. During the day, Charis continued to operate the Keep Guards and sisters in shifts. Charis’ new jewellery received a great deal of attention, the sisters inspecting the artisanship and operation. The Baroness hinted to more than one servant and sister she would welcome an invitation to inspect Charis’ jewellery. Charis intentionally avoided the Keep, staying in the Gatehouse. She realised her behaviour was petty and still couldn’t stop herself; the waiting was boring and dangerous at the same time and worrying for her. Pampering a Baroness didn’t rate the effort.

The clouds arrived, dark and carrying rain, which never fell; the sun chased them away in spite of the approaching Death Season. The sun determined to shine all the brighter to punish the near naked prisoners sweltering and reddening held by stakes in the Keep’s courtyard.

Astera and Thyia alternated training Dirce and Drosis using some of the time to practice during the day. They trained behind the Keep away from and out of sight of the prisoners. With the prisoners on bread and water, the Keep’s servants were able to keep up with their daily tasks. They were grateful for their rescue, and they ensured the warrior-sisters and initiates were fed at meal times. It wasn’t lavish food although still welcome, since it was the food they brought with them.

+++

The next day was similar. Charis expected the wagons at the end of it and they didn’t arrive. Her whole plan relied on holding the Keep and the prisoners until Apelles arrived. The shifts tiresome for everyone concerned and Charis became anxious a mistake would set them free. Helice advised Charis the wagon caravan was due middle of the next day, a wagon broke its axle.

Right on the cusp of dusk three riders galloped up the trail passing through the village. The three riders dressed in black, robes flowing out behind them. Charis sent Helice to call the shift on duty at the barracks to the gate, while she prepared herself to challenge and if required delay, the visitors from the safety of the Gatehouse.

Astera, the initiates, and Helice re-joined Charis at the gate in time for them to witness Charis challenge the new arrivals.

“Hold! Announce yourself and state your business, it is late to call at this Keep!” Charis shouted, as the riders approached the Gate.

“I trust I am expected, Charis the Young, honoured Daughter of the Duchess!” one of the three replied. It was Apelles, which made Charis instantly happy, although still wondering why he rode ahead.

Charis asked Astera to open the gate while she climbed down the stairs of the Gatehouse to meet him. Dirce led their horses away to the stable, while Drosis stood guard at the Gate.

“You are most sorely welcome Magistrate,” Charis said. She didn’t recognise the other two Priests and thought it best to address Apelles by his title.

“Yes, honoured to meet you also and I need to ask a small favour, if I could?”

“Yes certainly, you will want food and drink first surely? Or perhaps to greet the Baron or both,” she replied.

“No I need to inspect the prisoners.”

“Follow me, they are over here, ready, and waiting, we captured three priests and ten knights. They were also accompanied by six smallish human like creatures, which we slew and burnt unsure what they were.” Charis’ strolled along with a bounce to her step.

The light cast from the torches wasn’t strong, although bright enough to reveal the fear on the knight’s faces, most closing their eyes and lowering their heads. The priests were more defiant, at least for now thought Charis to herself. The two Priests accompanying the Magistrate carried scrolls with them and were checking them off each time Apelles met and talked to a knight prisoner. Charis observed from a distance; Apelles made it plain this was Temple business.

“Are these your prisoners or the Baron’s?” the Magistrate enquired, swivelling around to face Charis as he did so.

“They are prisoners of the Daughters of the Duchess,” Charis replied slowly, considering the portent of the question.

“Can I ask you to formally hand them over into the custody of the Temple of Judge, I being a representative of the Temple?”

“Yes and with thanks to be relieved of this duty. I will of course offer to keep guard over them until your own Knights can relieve my daughters and me,” Charis said.

“Are you able to dismiss the Keep’s guards and your own Daughters?”

“Yes, although I wonder why?”

“Please dismiss them.”

Charis approached the sergeant and spoke to him briefly, happy to be relieved. The prisoners gave the sergeant and his men the evil eye, they did. She asked Astera to accompany Helice and the initiates to the barracks for a meal.

“We are alone with the prisoners and I might add there is no one on the Gate,” she announced to the Magistrate.

“I need you to remain to explain to you why, which you can never repeat. I reveal this so you know there will always be trust between you and I,” Apelles said, catching Charis’ eye, and tapping his chin.

“Realise my other Priests are against this trust, unfortunately for them I deem it important, and I value it highly. Don’t interfere here, as I suspect you may, and trust this is the will of Judge. Judgement is now going to be passed.”

Charis studied the other two Priests who escorted Apelles to the Keep.

They were saying some words over them and from behind, they slit their throats. They executed in a few heartbeats, ten prisoner-knights. Charis threw up. It is not that she never witnessed death; it was witnessing the helpless slaughter, which upset her and the blood, so much blood as their life drained away. Being gagged they made little noise beyond struggling against their bonds that would not permit them to escape their fate.

“These were once true Initiates of Judge. Lured away with the promise of power and coin once being disappointed they weren’t chosen by Judge to be the Judge Knight of this Duchy. They were his in life and they are now his in death, although I sense He will send them to his sister Jury, Goddess of the Underworld to be tortured forever.”

“I am shocked; I didn’t contemplate it being possible, Judge Knights lured away from their faith!”

“Men are frail, they have always been so. We must burn these now. As you are aware I am accompanied by Judge Knights, some of those will be friends and companions of these, and they cannot discover what has become of them, given their fall from faith.”

“What of the Priests?” Charis asked.

“One is from this Keep, newly appointed, one is a former Priest of an unknown faraway Duchy it seems if his story is believed; my two Inquisitors are determining their Judgement now. The High Priest is special; we can’t make sense of where he is from, although he volunteers little.”

The two priests received judgement in the exact same way as the ten knights.

“Can I request you burn the bodies in the name of Judge please?”

“I will need assistance. As long as you don’t object to my warrior-sisters assisting me, and thereby witness their fate?”

“No, they received Judgement; that is all they need to appreciate. Acceptable?”

“Yes, they were uncomfortable to be near, everyone secretly accepted they weren’t normal, and being feared, most would want them dead in any case. Judge’s verdict of course welcomed as an absolute confirmation.”

The two Inquisitors held the last priest between them and led him to the Keep and Charis suspected, the Baron. Charis was sure the Keep was fitted with at least one or two dungeon cells, since she was in one herself not long ago.

The sisters loaded the bodies; four sisters were required for each knight, and a bucket of water to splash filth and blood from the body. As the bodies landed in the wagon, Helice inspected extensively for items under the guise of positioning them. Night descended upon them as Astera drove the wagon through the Keep’s Gate and they needed to suspend lanterns from the wagon as well as carry them to keep them on the trail. They arrived at the pit, unloaded the bodies and then unloaded the wood, stacking it over the dead, who they deliberately placed face down. The blaze quickly took hold, eager to consume casting its flickering light.

Charis ordered her sisters back into the wagon. They needed to clean themselves down, too much death and too much filth, one of the more ghastly tasks she asked her sisters to do. As they returned to the Keep using the Gate they glanced over at the stakes, shadows and light danced across the area from the torches still in place. All knew there was a field of blood and defecation there although occasionally, the torch light spluttered just right and the grass reflected the sticky wetness of blood to confirm their knowledge.

Before anyone could comment, a rainstorm, which threatened for days, finally poured down, within a bell, rivers of water were flowing everywhere and people were sprinting for shelter. Luckily, Charis was with Helice by this time and they ended up in her room in the Keep. They quickly removed their wet armour and clothes, grabbed a blanket each from the bed, then tended the fireplace, and brought it to life.