Chapter 138: Chapter 138 - Tyrant ( Part 1 )
The morning sun raised itself slowly above the western mountains.
Its golden light covered the whole valley, showing the rooftops of Ashvale and the infinite mountain ranges surrounding the little mining village.
From the distance...
It seemed to be peaceful.
Peaceful village hiding from the rest of the world.
But sometimes appearance could be deceptive.
Jennie stood outside the village inn, observing the streets waking up.
Women were carrying buckets of water from the well.
Old miners were sharpening their worn-out pickaxes before starting their day work.
Merchants were placing their stalls, selling vegetables, bread and simple tools.
Children were passing the streets...
But there was something wrong.
Very wrong.
None of them laughed.
Their heads were hanging low.
They were avoiding every eye contact.
Jennie’s instincts were noticing the difference.
"A village should be noisier."
Snow, now in his smaller wolf shape, lay next to her, stretching lazily.
"They are afraid."
Roxy came out from the inn, holding three cups of hot tea.
She was smiling faintly.
"Good morning."
Jennie accepted one cup of tea.
"Have you slept?"
Roxy laughed awkwardly.
"Yes."
Snow sniffed his tea.
"...There is no meat in it."
"Tea," Jennie corrected.
"Exactly."
Jennie chuckled.
"Survive."
"I refuse."
Roxy rolled her eyes.
"Every morning you are telling me that."
"And every morning I am right."
There was a moment when...
Mood was getting lighter.
But then...
Sound of iron chains broke the silence.
Everyone fell silent.
The villagers were stepping aside automatically.
Jennie turned towards the noise.
Nearly thirty miners were walking slowly along the street.
They were blackening from the coal dust.
Their shoulders were slumping because of fatigue.
Some of them were limping with visible injuries.
Others were coughing violently because of years of underground work.
But what Jennie noticed weren’t adults.
Children were accompanying them.
Tiny boys and girls among miners.
The youngest child couldn’t be older than eight years.
Every of them was carrying basket full of ore.
Loads were nearly as heavy as them.
Little boy stumbled.
His basket dropped.
Iron ore chunks were scattering along the road.
Before anyone could help...
Leather whip cracked in the air.
Boy was screaming when the whip hit the ground near him.
Guard, wearing black armor, was glaring at him angrily.
"Pick it up."
"Now."
Boy was gathering the ore chunks quickly, trembling with fear.
His fingers were bleeding from the sharp ore.
Nobody moved.
Nobody objected.
Jennie was looking at them.
"...Children."
Her voice was dangerously calm.
Old miner, walking in the end of the column, answered quietly.
"The tunnels are narrow."
"The children fit where adults cannot."
Jennie was looking at him.
"For how long time are they working?"
Old miner was hesitating.
"...Since Lord Barthus took control of the village."
Roxy couldn’t believe it.
"What?"
"They are children."
Old miner was forcing bitter smile.
"Children don’t pay any taxes."
"So they earn them."
Silence.
Snow’s tail stopped wagging.
Jennie was looking at the little boy, struggling to lift his basket.
He couldn’t.
His arms were shaking from fatigue.
Without any word...
Jennie quietly approached.
With one hand, she lifted the basket.
It was unexpectedly heavy.
Forty kilograms nearly.
Too much weight for the child.
Guard was approaching her quickly.
"You."
"Civilian."
"Return the property."
Jennie was quietly looking at him.
"The property?"
Guard was pointing to the children.
"The ore."
Jennie’s face didn’t change.
"What will happen if they can’t carry it?"
"They work until they can."
"And if they collapse?"
Guard was shrugging indifferently.
"Another child replaces them."
Roxy’s grip on her staff was getting tighter.
Snow was quietly muttering,
"I hate him."
Jennie was silently returning the basket to the child.
"Thank you..."
Boy was whispering quietly.
Hastily lowering his head, he was running away from there.
His fear was obvious.
But not the fear of Jennie.
The fear of the guard.
Jennie was watching the procession disappearing into the mountains.
Only when they disappeared, she quietly asked,
"Whose property these mines are?"
Old miner answered immediately.
"Lord Barthus Greymane."
Later that morning...
The trio was walking through the village with Elder Harold.
Now when Jennie knew where to look...
She could notice details she didn’t see before.
Nearly every house needed repair.
Broken windows were covered with cloths instead of glass.
Roofs were leaking.
Many gardens were harvesting their products weeks earlier than they had to.
Simply, there was no food.
Nearby one of small cottages...
Mother was slicing one loaf of bread into six tiny parts.
Five parts were given to her children.
Last part...
She was placing it silently into the cupboard.
She wasn’t eating.
Jennie was looking away.
"...How often does that happen?"
Harold was sighing.
"Almost every family."
Snow was frowning.
"But the mines are working."
"They should have some money."
"They have."
Harold’s voice was turning colder.
"It simply doesn’t reach us."
While they were walking further...
Harold was slowly explaining everything.
"Twenty years ago..."
"The Greymane family bought the western mines."
"At first..."
"Nothing changed."
"The taxes were moderate."
"The roads were improving."
"Trade was flourishing."
Jennie was listening carefully.
"Then Lord Barthus inherited all of them."
Harold was nodding.
"Everything has changed since."
"He doubled the quotas."
"He tripled the taxes."
"He reduced wages."
"He declared that each mountain, river and forest belong to him personally."
Roxy was unable to believe what she is hearing.
"That is impossible."
"People will protest."
"They did."
Harold stopped walking.
His eyes were darkening.
"They disappeared."
Silence was following.
Jennie quietly asked,
"Disappeared?"
"No trial."
"No investigation."
"No funeral."
"Families were waking..."
"...and someone was just gone."
Harold was looking towards the mountains.
"Miners."
"Teachers."
"Village leaders."
"Anyone who questioned him."
"They disappeared."
Roxy’s breath slowed.
"...Like my parents."
Harold was nodding sadly.
"They were among the first."
They have eventually reached the entrance of the biggest mine.
Massive iron gate was blocking the entrance into the tunnel.
Guards with weapons were watching.
Over the entrance, there was a shining metal sign.
PROPERTY OF LORD BARTHUS GREYMANE
TRESPASSERS WILL BE EXECUTED
Jennie’s eyes were resting on the sign.
Nearby...
Children were disappearing into the darkness of the mine, carrying lanterns.
One little girl was looking towards the sunlight.
Just for a second.
Then...
Guard was shouting.
She was immediately lowering her head and going inside the mine.
Snow quietly growled.
"They are afraid of ending daylight."
Jennie understood it.
For these children...
Mine was not work.
It was prison.
When they were leaving...
Jennie was asking one last question.
"Why haven’t you reported it?"
Harold was laughing bitterly.
"We did."
"Many times."
"To whom?"
"Neighboring lords."
"The western governor."
"The royal inspectors."
"The merchant guild."
Roxy was looking perplexedly.
"They ignored it?"
Harold was slowly nodding.
"Barthus provides half of all iron in the west."
"He sells weapons."
"Armor."
"Trade routes."
"Too many people profit from his mines."
Jennie was finishing the sentence quietly.
"So nobody wants to see the truth."
Harold was giving tired smile.
"Exactly."
"Suffering of a small mountain village isn’t worth losing their wealth."
Old man was looking towards Greymane Castle towering proudly over the valley.
"It has been like this for years."
Jennie was following his gaze.
Castle was looking majestic under the blue sky.
White walls.
High towers.
Golden banners.
Symbol of nobility.
Built upon the suffering of countless innocent people.
Mountain wind was blowing onto silver hair of Jennie.
Her face remained calm.
Almost unreadable.
But Excalibur was whispering quietly in her mind.
"Your heartbeat changed."
"I know."
"You are angry."
Jennie was looking after another group of disappearing into the mines children.
"...Yes."
Her voice was barely audible.
"I am."
Above Ashvale, in the opulent halls of Greymane Castle, Lord Barthus Greymane was having an extravagant breakfast, oblivious to the fact that the silver-haired wanderer in the village was judging him for his sins.
History had proven this before...
When Jennie got this quiet, someone was about to meet the end of the Sword King.
The elder’s hut was quiet.
The hot tea that was sitting on the wooden table had grown cold, but nobody dared touch it.
Outside, life went on.
People continued their daily routine as if nothing had happened.
Children ran to the mines while armed guards watched them.
The blacksmiths hammered on iron and anvil.
Women silently scrubbed laundry in the river.
Life went on.
Not because they were happy.
They did it because they had no other choice.
Jennie calmly poured tea.
She drank a few sips.
Her favorite mountain herbs had filled the room with its scent.
Roxy couldn’t understand how Jennie managed to look so calm after all they had learned.
Harold was watching her intently.
He had seen plenty of dangerous people.
The loud ones who shouted about justice didn’t make much change in the world.
But the quiet ones...
They made history.
The elder sighed.
"Miss Jennie..."
"I know what you are thinking."
Jennie looked up.
"Do I?"
Harold nodded.
"You are thinking about fighting Lord Barthus."
Jennie didn’t confirm or deny it.
Instead, she asked a question.
"How many soldiers does he command?"
Harold frown.
"Nearly four hundred."
"Most of them were former mercenaries."
"They guard the mines around the clock."
"He has dozens of battle mages in service."
"The castle walls have powerful defensive magic."
"There is only one road that leads to Greymane Castle and it is heavily guarded."
Jennie nodded quietly.
"I see."
Harold leaned forward.
"So please..."
"Don’t."
Roxy looked at them.
"Elder..."
Harold’s tone was firm now.
"We’ve already lost too many people."
"We don’t want you to become one of them."
The old villager continued.
"You don’t understand Barthus."
"He isn’t just cruel."
"He is paranoid."
"If somebody dares to oppose him..."
"He punishes everybody."
"He burns homes."
"Seizes food."
"Takes children to work in mines."
The room fell into silence again.
Snow’s ears drooped.
His tail froze.
Jennie noticed it.
Even the usually cheerful Divine Beast had problems hiding his anger.
The old lady who sat next to fireplace shook her hands.
"My grandson..."
"He was just eleven."
"He got too weak to work."
"They called him useless."
"They took him away."
She choked.
"I haven’t seen him since."
The man clench his fists.
"My brother complained about food rations."
"The next morning..."
"He disappeared."
Nobody saw him since.
Harold closed his eyes.
"This village survived because we endured."
"Not because we fought."
"We learned how to survive like that."
Jennie listened quietly.
She didn’t interrupt.
She just let each story sink into her heart.
A hungry child.
An old woman.
A man who disappeared in the middle of the night.
Parents who send their children to death in mines.
Each story became heavier scale of balance.
Roxy looked at the table.
A part of her was filled with anger and desire for revenge.
But the other part remembered Jennie’s words from that morning.
Your parents died to protect you from this hatred.
She whispered,
"What do we do?"
Nobody knew the answer.
Because nobody had an answer.
For many years...
The village hoped for someone to save them.
Eventually...
Hope died.
Survival was left.
Jennie calmly poured tea from the teapot.
She served it to everyone before taking herself.
The gesture surprised everyone.
Even Harold blinked.
"Miss Jennie..."
"You’ve heard everything."
"Aren’t you angry?"
Jennie looked at her cup.
Clear surface was filled with her reflection.
For just a second...
She looked back at another lifetime.
Blood-stained battlefield.
Burnt villages.
Children hiding behind ruins.
Cries of innocent people in the middle of the fight for power.
One thousand years had passed.
But humanity still suffered.
Excalibur’s calm voice sounded inside her mind.
"Your heart is uneasy."
"...Yes."
"You know your answer."
Jennie smiled faintly.
"...Yes."
Opposite her Snow was looking intently.
He recognized that smile.
He had seen it in the Black Tide.
He saw it when Jennie faced Azrakiel.
When she was like this...
It meant that somebody’s fate was sealed.
Harold tried to reach out one more time.
"Please reconsider."
"You three are travelers."
"You can go away from this place."
"You owe nothing to Ashvale."
"Don’t waste your life on strangers."
Jennie slowly lifted her teacup.
She drank it and...
...Gently put it on the table.
The soft noise echoed in the room.
Clink.
She looked first at Harold.
Then at the gathered villagers.
Then at Roxy.
Her voice was soft.
Almost gentle.
"We will help."
Silence.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody breathed.
Harold looked at her in shock.
"...You..."
Jennie smiled kindly.
"I’ve met many people on my way."
"Some wanted power."
"Some wanted money."
"But these people..."
"They just want a chance to live."
She slowly stood.
"No child should be afraid of returning home."
"No parent should watch their family dying."
"No ruler has a right to live comfortably at cost of others."
Her silver eyes slowly looked towards the distant mountains where Greymane Castle was located.
"I can’t ignore it."
Snow grinned.
"I knew you would say that."
He stretched lazily and then stood.
"I got bored anyway."
Roxy looked at them both.
Her eyes widened.
"You two..."
"You are really serious."
Snow laughed.
"When did Jennie walk away from people in need?"
Roxy recalled Azurewind.
Ruins.
Villagers.
Children.
Everywhere they went...
Jennie stopped.
She helped everybody.
Even when nobody knew her.
Even when there was nothing to win.
This was just the way she was.
Roxy felt tears forming in her eyes.
Not because she was sad.
Because she was grateful.
"...Thank you."
Jennie smiled.
"No."
She laid her hand on Roxy’s shoulder.
"We are friends."
"Friends don’t say ’thank you’ for taking the same path."
Roxy smiled quietly.
"I think..."
"I will say it anyway."
Harold slowly rose from his chair.
His hands were shaking from age.
"You remind me of someone."
Jennie tilted her head.
"Someone?"
The elder looked into her silver eyes.
"The heroes of old stories."
"The kind who couldn’t ignore suffering."
Jennie smiled awkwardly.
"I am just a traveler."
Snow coughed loud.
"A traveler who somehow started saving kingdoms."
"I do not."
"You do it definitely."
Roxy couldn’t stop laughing.
The room, full of despair just moments ago, was now filled with small warmth.
Outside, Greymane Castle stood proudly over the valley.
Inside of it Lord Barthus Greymane was performing his routine tasks, completely unaware that quiet silver-haired traveler made an important decision while drinking tea.
Decision which soon will put an end to his long reign of terror.
