Babbling as best he could with swollen and bleeding lips, the butcher scrabbled to his feet, and staggered off, swearing to never touch a snare again.
“Would you really have knocked out his teeth?” Bella asked.
“Depends on my mood,” Eric replied carelessly, swinging himself back up into the saddle. “He didn’t fight back, so my mood is generous. Now comes the question, which I will ask you to decide, Abel. There are more coneys here than we need by far. So…what to do with ’em? Sebastian won’t care if I sell ’em, but that’s tedious, though profitable — and it would be amusing to sell them right back to the bastard. He wouldn’t dare refuse to pay anything I asked, either.” Eric tilted his head to the side, watching her closely.
“Take them to Father Gentian, at Four Saints,” she said instantly.
“Oh so? And why should we be giving them away? I want to keep people terrified of me, not thinking I’m some sort of benefactor.” Eric looked at her curiously — but not angrily, so she continued.
“I’ve got good reasons that I think you’ll understand, even if you don’t want to do this. First, Four Saints feeds the poorest folk of the city. If they’re being fed, they won’t be out here poaching.” She ticked off a finger. “Second, you can go in there growling that the Duke made you bring them to the good Father instead of selling them, which keeps your reputation intact. And third, word will get around that you brought a huge number of hares to Four Saints. The butcher will hear about it, know those were his hares and be in agony all over again at losing them. You’ll have punished him twice over.”
Eric burst into surprised laughter. “And here I thought you were going to give me some sort of cant about caring for the needy and all that rot! I like the way you think. Practical, with just a touch of harshness to keep things interesting. Maybe a bit of cruelty for spice. It’s too bad you’re leaving after two months, Abel. Maybe I could use a partner, after all!” He laughed again.
Well, that certainly clinched it. The Tradition was working in her favor for now — he would never, ever have said that to a woman he was trying to make sorry for him.
As they parted company, Eric to go on to the city with the hares, and she to return to the Manor, she allowed herself to feel a very tiny shred of relief.
She changed out of her horse-smelling riding clothing and into a hybrid sort of outfit; she had to admit that she really liked the freedom of breeches, that was no kind of a lie. But having her breasts squashed flat beneath the leather tunics was not very comfortable, even if it was necessary. Sapphire had been helping her bind them flat before getting into the tunics, but that had just generalized the discomfort. So over the breeches she wore one of her own bodices, and beneath that, one of Sebastian’s old linen shirts.
The way that Eric had beaten that poacher still disturbed her — and yet, what he had done was, in its way, far more merciful than what the law allowed. And this had not been someone who was poaching to feed his family. Eric had admitted that Sebastian ordered him to look the other way on quite a bit of that sort of poaching. This had been someone who was profiting — stealing from the Duke — taking rabbits to sell in his own butcher shop. The law would probably be even harsher on someone like that.
On the one hand — Eric’s casual brutality had made her feel a little sick. On the other hand…what other choice did he have?
Eric’s duty required that very brutality of him, personally, and often. Maybe cultivating indifference was the only way he could go about his business without feeling sick all the time himself.
She went down to dinner feeling very little appetite for it, but hoping that Sebastian would be there. Right now she very much wanted to have simple conversation with someone who didn’t turn a man’s face into pulp without thinking twice about it. Sebastian was there, and he looked up with an expression on his face that told her he had been hoping she would arrive. “You’re back!” he exclaimed.
“Eric went on to the city,” she told him, before he could ask. She explained what had happened without going into the gruesome details, and her solution for the disposition of the poacher’s catch. He nodded as he listened.
“Thank you for the rabbit solution.” Then he sighed. “Eric almost beat the man to death, didn’t he?” he asked. “Never mind, I can tell from your expression, he did. There’s no point in telling him not to. I’ve tried. He retorts that he doesn’t tell me how to cast a spell, so I shouldn’t tell him how to be a Gamekeeper. Then he gives me very well-argued points about why this has to be done. And I have no refutation for him.”
She nodded slowly. “I thought of most of that myself. I can see it. I know that the constables are even worse, and I have no idea what his own Guild would do to him, but they are not refined men, the butchers, and they already have to work very hard to keep their reputation clean. I mean, that’s why they have a Guild and Guild rules and laws in the first place, so people will know they can trust what they buy. But I don’t like it, and it seems wrong.”
“We think too much,” Sebastian told her ruefully. “That’s what Eric would say. We keep trying to appeal to reason and finding a way to make sure punishments fit the crime. We keeping thinking that there must be a better way, while people like Eric say, ‘Breaking heads has always worked before, so there’s no reason to change.’”
She made a rude noise. “I’d be more inclined to say that everyone else thinks too little. And on that note, I’ve been reading that book about The Tradition you gave me, and it is not a comfort!”
He grimaced, and pushed his glasses up. He was always doing that, but then, they seemed to be perched on his nose with no real way to keep them in place other than the wires that wrapped around his ears. “It isn’t meant to be. Here, have some pie. Pie always makes me feel better.” Instead of waiting for the servant to do so, he reached across the table and put a generous wedge of pigeon pie on her plate.
Since she hadn’t been served anything yet, she took a forkful. It really was awfully good…
“I was wondering — is that why you’re in breeches?” he continued hesitantly. “And being all hearty and…”
“And acting like a boy… Yes,” she said. “I’m working at it very hard, in fact. Since Eric took it into his head that I need to be outside more, I’ve been in his company a lot. I admit, I like being outdoors. And the rest of the work in the stillroom will be making a few specialized things, mostly for you. I don’t embroider, I don’t need to sew, here, the servants take care of the household very nicely and being out makes me feel less like a prisoner. But…I… Eric is very fond of women…and I don’t mean in the sense of friendship.”
Sebastian’s face suddenly darkened. “If he’s offered insult to you, I’ll — ”
“No!” she exclaimed. “Since I came here, he’s been quite…reasonable.”
