Chapter 9

Bren Seni knew he had no real choice. He was the second of seven children produced by Lady Seni and her husbands. There was no place for him in his mother's holding. He was the only one with a real chance to leave the small shire and make something of himself.

Yet he knew his life as a guard was probably over. He had fallen into the trap that was set for him. He had arrived at the capital five years before with ideas and ideals. He wanted to be the best Noble Guard he possibly could be.

But five years around men who took what they wanted and expected life to be handed to them had taken its toll. Seni never expected retribution – at least not in the form it had come. He should have seen the writing on the wall. Torbert had stiffened in the last weeks. He no longer coddled the royals as he had come to do. It was if he had taken a look at what he was responsible for and found it lacking.

"I will take the 25 lashes, Sir Torbert," Seni said. "I humbly beg your apology. I have disgraced my house, my parents and the Noble Guard. If you deem I should be released, I still will accept 25 and I beg that you allow another of my kin to train for the guard in my place. I believe you will find my brother, Selit Seni, to be more worthy."

"You will have 25 lashes and you will remain in the guard, if you desire," Torbert announced. "The next infraction will cost you 50 lashes and exile. Master Fieth, please fetch the medic. I am certain Master Seni will need one."

Fieth ran off to do as he was bid and arrived back in time to see the last of the 25 lashes land. Torbert had made sure he left a stripe for each blow on the man's back but he had done his best to keep the damage to a minimum. The wounds on his face would be a lifelong reminder of his transgression.

"Unbind him and help him to wherever the medic wants him," Torbert directed Anklus. "Fieth, you're next. I will add two lashes to your punishment for your attack. Or you may forego the punishment and leave the complex."

"I will accept 12, Sir Torbert," Fieth said. "And I will accept more in the future if something like that happens. I will police my brethren if they cannot police themselves upon pain of my death."

Torbert's face stayed set in a mask as Fieth was strapped to the post.

Jorgarn had refused to move from his spot and a medic was treating his wounds where he stood in front of the whipping post. Fieth's eyes were set in determination as he accepted the punishment for the actions of others. Jorgarn wanted to look away but instead he locked eyes with his comrade and hoped his look conveyed his pride for Fieth's words and actions.

He cut Fieth loose when the punishment was concluded. Like Jorgarn, Fieth refused to move while Renoit was strapped to the wooden pole. He too accepted 12 lashes with resolve and vowed he would do whatever Sir Torbert asked to make the Noble Guard noble again.

Twelve recruits left for home that day. Many thought a resignation would allow them to forego the lashes. Torbert refused to accept their resignations, punished them and sent them home anyway.

More surprising were the nine that accepted two additional lashes and offered a vow to help restore the Noble Guard image.

Finally it was time for the man who had caused this outrage to be brought forward. Lippit had cheered among the loudest at the cruelty Seni displayed to Jorgarn. The more punishment Seni dished out, the more likely Lippit was to survive the day.

Once word reached the right ears of who was responsible for the mass whipping and why, Lippit knew his time was limited. Even if Jorgarn didn't kill him, one of the others would. His attempts to sneak away to flee were met by drawn swords from those he once considered friends.

Like Seni, he had come to the capital with plans and goals. He was not an exceptional fighter but he was cunning. Lippit's main contribution would never be in the field but before the action began. He was a planner, a plotter. He had a knack for knowing just how much wheat would be needed for each barracks and for finding it at the best price.

He wasn't so much of a militarist but he had shown his capability there, too, during training. The lone time the Noble Guard had found its Emertland Guard counterparts during field exercises, it was because Lippit had used maps and his understanding of the opposition to pinpoint within a hundred yards where the Emertland Guard had encamped.

He closed his eyes and tried to maintain his composure as he walked forward to the post and held out his hands to be bound above his head.

"I will accept the additional two lashes," he said. "Not that I shall live long enough to make amends for my crime."

"Will you accept 25 if your punishment ends there?" Jorgarn asked. It had not gone unnoticed that the 11 who had accepted the additional punishment and made the pledge to assist Sir Torbert's goal now stood beside Jorgarn.

"I will, Master Jorgarn, if Sir Torbert deems that appropriate," Lippit said. "Further, I will apologize personally to the young woman I accosted and to each and every guardsman who was punished in my place."

Jorgarn lifted his eyes to Sir Torbert. He still saw anger there and he understood it was not simply about Lippit's failings or Seni's failings or Jorgarn's failings. The anger in Sir Torbert's eyes was a reflection of his own failings.

"So be it," Sir Torbert said simply. Lippit's punishment was harsher than anyone but Jorgarn's. Sir Torbert took his time, allowed the pain to reach its threshold before the next blow fell. Lippit could scarcely stand when it was over so Jorgarn and the group that stood with him gently helped him to his feet and escorted him to the medic.

"Master Elmwood, stay behind," Sir Torbert said. "The rest of you, be gone. If I so much as hear a whisper or see your shadow the rest of the day, your punishment will be banishment to farthest reaches I can find."

The men moved away as quickly as they could, leaving Jorgarn to face Sir Torbert.

"Let me look," Torbert said softly when the other men were back in the barracks. Jorgarn turned to display his raw back. Seni had placed the blows in close succession, no two landing on the same spot but just close enough so his back was raw for almost three hands across and two hands down.

"You need to have that treated daily for the next few days," Torbert said sadly. "I apologize for allowing this to get out of hand. I had no idea it had reached this point."

"You said I wouldn't win any friends," Jorgarn said. "I expected my beating to be worse than the others. I did not expect to have someone lose his mind."

"He didn't lose his mind," Torbert said. "He understood what he was doing and he expected to be allowed to do it. I have caused this as surely as if I wielded the cane myself. I have failed miserably as Captain."

"It is an unworkable system, Sir Torbert," Jorgarn said. "I have read much of the guard's history of the past few days. The Guard is not designed as a clearinghouse for just anyone who wishes to join. It is designed to train the best soldiers. Those who aren't among the best were sent home. But we are not at war. We haven't been at war for 95 years. So the Guard became glorified body shields and a place to send a child that couldn-t be kept at home for economic reasons. The 11... 12, I suppose now ... who took your oath, that is the one thing most of them have in common. They come from large families in small lordships. There is no place for them among the family hierarchy. Just as there is no place for me among mine."

Torbert nodded thoughtfully.

"For the most part, those are the ones who make the best guards," Torbert said.

"They are the ones who have had to work most of their lives, I would guess," Jorgarn said. "Or at least wanted to work. Those are the ones I focus my efforts on. The rest the Symingtons I generally ignore."

"So how do I keep the Lippits and the Renoits from falling in with the Symingtons and the Peths?" Torbert asked. It was rhetorical and he was surprised when Jorgarn answered.

"If it were me, I would no longer admit just anyone because he is a second son or a relative of a noble," Jorgarn answered. "If a family has a man go through training and he accepts a position in the Noble Guard, allow them to send another. I would focus on the families who provide worthwhile candidates and stop allowing the richer districts to send someone just to say they've sent someone."

Torbert nodded. He longed to tell Jorgarn that he might just have that ability in a few years but he refrained.

"Once your back is healed, we will present your idea to the King," Torbert said. "Now I order you to get treatment for your back."

Jorgarn nodded and turned to leave.

"Do you plan to kill Seni?" he asked. Jorgarn stopped and faced Torbert again.

"As with Master Lippit, you have decreed his punishment complete," Jorgarn said. "Sir Torbert, I will abide by your wishes in every matter. I hope you know that."

"I do know that," Torbert said. "And I do appreciate it. I firmly planned to kill him today."

Jorgarn chuckled despite his pain.

"And I fully planned to kill Lippit today," he said. "I guess converting them to the cause is probably better. But I think I would keep a close eye on them if I were you."

"Oh, I think the converts will keep an eye on them for me," Torbert said. "One more thing. The Emertland Guard Sergeant has requested I move Symington. The King agrees. Will that create a problem for you?"