Volume One: The Forest Knight Chapter 86: Conspiring to Remove Myra, Part Two

“You will never be free if she is not removed. Who knows what fresh mischief she may devise to hold you in her grasp and bring ruin upon those around you?” Berrion replied.

Jessis nodded and said with some irritation, “I would gladly kill her myself. That loathsome old woman is utterly intolerable.”

With their minds now in accord, they agreed upon the time and manner of bringing down Sister Myra. By then, the dance had also come to an end, and as was customary, everyone was to change partners.

In the second and third dances, Berrion was joined by the wife of a baron and by the unmarried daughter of a wealthy merchant.

Both women had designs on him. The baron’s wife wished to find a suitable husband for her youngest daughter, while the merchant’s daughter, having witnessed Berrion’s splendid performances at the tournament and again that day, had become one of his ardent admirers. During the dance, she kept deliberately edging herself against him whenever she could.

Jessis noticed it all. She seethed in silence, and in the fourth and fifth dances she twice partnered Berrion.

Toward the end of the banquet, however, there was no need to change partners. One could keep dancing with whomever one felt most at ease with, a little social stratagem of such gatherings for the young.

Yet Berrion no longer felt the same delight he had when he first danced with Jessis, for there was nothing more formidable than a jealous woman. He was purposefully stepped on several times, and always on the toes, so that he winced in pain again and again.

Still, at last, in the final dance Jessis finally softened toward him. When the music ended, she rewarded Berrion with a tender embrace.

When the banquet was over and Berrion made his way back to his lodgings, he found himself thinking over the details of the dances with Jessis, and could not help but sigh: women were things to be loved, and feared.

By the time he returned, the moon was already high overhead. As soon as Berrion entered, his deputy captain of the guard, Broda, came up to him and jerked his chin toward the hall.

“My lord, you are finally back. There is a mother and son waiting for you inside. They insist on seeing you.”

Berrion was puzzled and hurried in to look. The mother and son were none other than the master thief Hack and his mother.

The moment Hack saw Berrion, he called out happily, “Sir Berrion, you have finally returned.”

Seeing that Berrion had come back, Hack’s mother, a thin woman who appeared to be in her early thirties, quickly curtsied to him.

Berrion stepped forward, lifted a hand in a gesture of support, and helped her to her feet. Then he invited her to sit and asked Bran to bring a cup of honeyed water.

Smiling, Berrion said to Hack’s mother, “I am a few years older than Hack, but younger than you, so I will be bold and call you sister.

“Sister, why did you bring Hack to see me today? Hack said your health has not been very good. Why wait here for me so long? You could have left word with the guards, and I would have come to you, or you could have returned tomorrow.”

Being addressed as “sister” by a knight she regarded as noble and exalted left Hack’s mother both surprised and flattered. Moreover, Berrion spoke with such courtesy, unlike the arrogant nobles she had known before.

“Oh, honored Sir Berrion, I am only a poor woman of the city. Please just call me Jennifer,” she said nervously.

She drew a steadying breath and calmed herself before continuing. “Sir Berrion, I brought little Hack today because I wished to return the money you gave him.”

With that, Jennifer took out a purse and set it before Berrion. Hack, watching his mother’s actions, lowered his head and said nothing.

Berrion looked at the purse and then smiled. “Sister Jennifer, that is money Hack earned. Why are you giving it back to me? I gave it to him so he could do things for me. I can’t have people working for nothing.”

As he spoke, Berrion gently pushed the purse back toward Jennifer, then glanced at Hack. Hack was looking at him as well. Berrion winked, and Hack immediately understood what he meant.

“Yes, Mother, I told you already. My lord Berrion saw that I was quick-witted and wanted me to help him with some tasks. Do you believe me now?” Hack complained, sounding a little sulky.

Jennifer looked from Hack to Berrion in confusion. But Berrion’s gaze was steady, and much of her suspicion faded.

After taking a sip of honeyed water, Jennifer still could not suppress her curiosity. “Sir Berrion, what sort of thing do you want my son to do? Ten silver coins is a great sum for poor folk like us.”

“Don’t worry, Sister Jennifer. I won’t send him off to do anything dangerous. I chose him because he is clever. Recently I have been courting a beautiful lady, and I need a quick boy who can often carry things for me,” Berrion explained.

“That still would not require ten denars, my lord Berrion,” Jennifer said, half convinced and half bewildered.

Berrion pretended to think for a moment, then said to Jennifer, “In truth, I ought not to tell you this, since I promised Hack. But you are his mother, and I believe there is no harm in your knowing the truth.”

At the words “the truth,” Jennifer sat up straight and still, waiting for him to continue, while Hack’s face fell in disappointment.

Berrion cast a sidelong glance at the boy and said slowly, “I am the champion of the trial by combat, the one they call the Blessed of the Fire God. Hack told you that, didn’t he?”

Jennifer nodded. “Yes, the child told me.”

“The triangular amulet around your neck is mine,” Berrion said, pointing to the thing hanging against Jennifer’s chest.

“What?” Jennifer cried in alarm. “Hack never told me that. He said he had obtained it from the church in Yalvikshou.”

She reached up in flustered haste, about to take it off.

Berrion quickly stopped her. “Sister Jennifer, please hear me out first. Hack got to know me at the tournament site, when he was doing odd jobs in a tavern.

“When he saw that I had won the championship in the trial by combat, he asked me to give him the amulet I wore, because everyone believed that for someone blessed by the Fire God, the amulet on his person would share in that blessing.

“He also told me about your situation. Seeing how dearly this child loves his mother, I thought of my own mother and was deeply moved, so I gave him this amulet, and also ten denars for him to work for me.”

When Jennifer heard this, tears welled in her eyes. Hack looked at Berrion with gratitude as well, and when he saw his mother crying, he hurried over with a handkerchief to wipe away her tears.

Jennifer pulled Hack into a fierce embrace and wept. “Good boy, Mother loves you. It is all Mother’s fault. Not only have I failed to care for you, I have even burdened you and made you suffer while trying to care for me.”

Mother and son held each other and cried there for a while. Watching from the side, Berrion, Bran, and Broda all felt their own hearts grow sore; such deep maternal affection was enough to move anyone to tears.

Bran in particular, being not much older than Hack, thought of his own mother and was so touched that he too shed tears.

In truth, Berrion had originally planned to send for Hack tomorrow, since his plan to deal with Sister Myra required the master thief’s aid. He had not expected mother and son to come today of their own accord, which saved him considerable trouble.

After they had embraced and cried for a while, Jennifer suddenly took Hack by the hand and dragged him down to kneel before Berrion, startling him.

Berrion hurried to help them up, but Jennifer remained kneeling and, through her tears, begged him, “Sir Berrion, there is no mother who does not wish for her son to become a fine man.

“But I do not have the good birth of your own mother. I only married a drunkard, who died far too early and left us—an orphaned mother and child—to suffer in this world.

“I beg you to take Hack in. I do not ask that he become your squire, since our family cannot afford the cost of armor and a warhorse. It would be enough if he could serve as your page or your servant.

“I do not want to see him working in taverns any longer. Every day I fear he will fall into bad ways, or be mistreated by others, yet I have no means to help him. But now it is different. He can follow you and work for you. A righteous, kind, and mighty knight like you will never let him end up as his drunken father did, drifting through life in a daze.”

Jennifer’s plea left Berrion somewhat at a loss. By the ordinary customs of knighthood, he was allowed to keep as many as ten squires, but he already had two—Tull and Bran—so there was no real need to take on another.

Still, after some thought, he agreed. Hack was not merely a boy who could serve as a squire; he had genuine ability, and behind him stood a master of roguecraft. Taking him in would be of real help.

Setting aside such practical considerations, Berrion also liked the clever, dutiful boy from the heart, and since he would be needed for the matter of Sister Myra, it seemed best to make him his own knightly squire.

After all, in this age, it was entirely normal for an ordinary knight to have three or five squires under him.

Jennifer was overjoyed when Berrion agreed to her request and was willing to let Hack become his knightly squire. She hurriedly told Hack to bow to him and address Berrion as “my lord.”

Berrion helped Hack to his feet and, patting his shoulder, said, “From this moment on, you are my knightly squire. When we return to Norland Keep, I will give you a proper ceremony of fealty.”

Then he looked at Jennifer and asked, “Sister Jennifer, if Hack is to serve me, he will have to stay with me. Your health is not very good. Without Hack’s care, how will you manage?”

“I will be fine, Sir Berrion, so long as Hack is well. Besides, with your amulet’s protection, I already feel much better. I can take care of myself,” Jennifer said.

Berrion smiled. He knew she was lying to reassure him, to put his mind at ease and spare Hack any worries. But Hack was not foolish; hearing his mother say this, his face showed only unhappiness.

“In that case, Sister Jennifer, there is a cook of excellent skill missing from my estate in Norland Keep. Would you be willing to come? Hack told me you have always worked in taverns, and in the kitchen at that, so I imagine your cooking must be very good,” Berrion said, intending to take Hack’s mother along as well, so that Hack would have no lingering concerns.

The moment Hack heard this suggestion, he became excited all at once. “My lord, my mother’s cooking is excellent. The red wine pheasant stew served in the tavern was invented by my mother.”

“Oh? Is that so? Then how splendid. Sister Jennifer, you must come with us. There is no one in Norland Keep who can cook well, and I have been worrying about how I will cope once my palate has been spoiled by the delicacies of Yalvikshou,” Berrion said, laughing as he echoed Hack’s words and invited Jennifer once more to Norland Keep.

Jennifer heard him out, smiled, and nodded in agreement. She too wished to remain beside her son.