“You are here to show me the penance I magnanimously allowed your own clan to dole out?”
Agor’s lip tightens and for one moment, I think he doesn’t appreciate Brachard’s taunt. But then I realize he’d be a fool to show displeasure to Brachard. Nay, there’s another reason for his concern.
Mayhap he’s worried that my father didn’t measure up to the task of maiming his sons.
Sure enough, when Agor steps aside, my father, Leviton, and Auglesh step up. None of them look at me.
Both of my brothers look perfectly whole. Fine.
Brachard takes a long moment to look them up and down. Then, in a dangerously quiet voice, he turns to Agor and says, “Might you be so kind as to point out their injury?”
My father swallows.
Agor doesn’t let him off the hook. “King Vronas is no longer. His title has been remanded, his wealth redistributed, and several males compete for the right to rule. And now, with your permission, I will lethimtell you what he has done to his sons.”
“Go ahead,” Brachard barks directly to Vronas.
My father stutters. “M-my firstborn, Levi, is my protector. Trained in the highest court his entire life—”
“—aye, against his own brother, who is now a Black Mountain protector.” Brachard waves his hand. “We appreciate the fine standard of training now that we have it in our village. Get on with it.”
“I-I couldn’t have Levi’s hands injured if he is to hold a sword. Throw his knives. I couldn’t poke out an eye, he wouldn’t be able to judge distance from my enemies. Again, he is my sole source of protection. So I offer this.”
He steps forward with a small box.
Brachard looks inside. His face is expressionless. Then he turns to Leviton. “Show me.”
Curious, several people watch as Leviton steps forward. He kneels, then removes his shoe to show his smallest toe has been replaced with an angry red scar.
Brachard leans back. “And the look-alike brother? I imagine he has a toe chopped off also?” His voice is a sneer that sends shivers down my spine.
The Southpeaks should be wary. Brachard is not happy with this outcome. My father is an idiot.
“N-nay.” My father produces another box.
“Small enough for a penis?” Negan whispers loudly and chuckles roll about the crowd as Auglesh pales.
Brachard barks out his laughter, loud and booming. “Aye, my sweet, you were always one of my favorites. Can’t deny the Blackhearts raised you right. Remember the last time we met here, you asked for a boon? You shall receive it today.”
With those mild words, he turns back toward my father and looks into the box. Then he stands and without gracing Auglesh with words, raises a heavy eyebrow.
Auglesh produces his left hand—which is not his dominant—and shows a stub of a pinky. So not even his entire finger, just the tip, lay in the box.
“Is this a joke?” Brachard bellows. “I shall dole out the punishment myself! You earned your sons two new mutilations,” he says to my father.
King Agor nods his approval. He expected no less.
“Negan,” Brachard says softly. “My sweet girl, your boon.”
I tense when Negan steps forward, following just a half step beside her to make sure she is safe.
Brachard hands her his own knife.
When she takes it, he places his hand over hers. “Not the penis,” he scowls. “You may do that only if they complain or cry out in pain. But I rather like the idea of them procreating.” His next words are meantto chill a male’s soul. “Because they will never know when I come after their sons.”
Notif. Butwhen.
Negan turns to Auglesh, whose eyes are wide, flickering back and forth from the blade to her face. The expression he sees makes a dark stain appear at his crotch.
