A Dog Among Princes

Chapter 28

Serpico was reasonably sure Farnese had been avoiding him. It wasn’t initially obvious, if he wasn’t her brother he probably wouldn’t have noticed, but she had been keeping conspicuously to herself lately. She wasn’t avoiding meals or shirking her duties as a commander, but she was distant. Normally she asked him to do more for her, inane bullshit outside of his duties as a soldier like bringing her water or doing her laundry, but lately she hadn’t asked him to do anything. Aside from that, she wasn’t leaving her tent much for anything other than meals or official duty. Normally she liked to be involved with the day to day operations of her troops to the point of being overbearing. He’d given her a couple of days, at this point they were nearly back at York’s capital, it was probably about time for him to see what was going on.

Serpico half expected Farnese to be self flagellating when he walked into her tent. He knew she didn’t do it purely out of religious fervor, he knew her too well for that. Some of it might’ve been sexual, but not all of it. If it was she’d probably look for a different outlet, if Serpico had to guess, she’d probably would’ve acted as a strict disciplinarian with the men under her command. No, this was different. Farnese destroyed what made her upset or uncomfortable. Misery was consigned to the flame. Once whatever it was consumed Farnese never had to think about it again. Of course, there were some things she couldn’t destroy so easily. People for one, no matter how much she disliked Sir Casca, Farnese would need some kind of evidence to justify killing her. More relevantly though, no matter how much shame, or self hatred she felt, destroying herself completely was impossible. So instead she chipped away at herself with her scourge, begging for forgiveness not from god, but from herself. There were other methods of course, the church had taught them plenty of ways to punish themselves: fasting, self-isolation, service to the point of self neglect, there were a million different ways they had been taught to engage in self injurious behavior. The scourge was the most obvious though, the most recognizable, the one that even a person divorced completely from the faith would recognize as a form of punishment. That’s probably why she chose it. Others could delude themselves into thinking what they were doing had a purpose beyond self hatred. Farnese knew what she was doing, she had just deluded herself into believing it was necessary.

She wasn’t using the scourge, just praying fervently, her knuckles white from how tightly her hands were clasped. The smell of incense, hanging thick like smoky spiderwebs, made Serpico nauseous. He recognized the words as a prayer against corruption. “Farnese.” She didn’t stir, staring blankly forward as she recited the words. “Farnese!” He put his hand on her shoulder and she jumped. She looked startled, she must’ve been really out of it. “Are you alright?” She pushed him away. He could see her eyes were rimmed with red.

“Leave me. I’m perfectly fine.” A voice in the back of his head told him to leave. She was his superior officer, she was the legitimate daughter of his patron, he should defer to her judgment even if he knew she was wrong. You know what? Fuck that! He was her brother too. It was his job to be there for her even if she didn’t want him to be. Farnese looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to leave.

“Clearly you’re not.” He sat down, crossing his legs. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Look, my lady, we’ve known each other for a long time. I can tell when something is bothering you.” He smoothed his hair back with his hand. “You know me. I’m not going to judge you for anything and it’s better than tearing yourself apart over whatever this is.”

Charlotte’s words echoed in Farnese’s head “You are their commander, should they not respect you at all times?”

“I have been having impure thoughts.” Farnese kept her head down. Serpico was surprised she’d spoken at all. He was even more surprised she hadn’t thrown something at him for disobeying her orders.

“Well that’s more or less to be expected at our age, my lady.” Oh god not that again. Anything but that again. He kept his tone even and sympathetic despite his creeping discomfort.

“I fear that they interfere with my ability to do my duty as an inquisitor. I find myself being convinced of ideas I know to be false more easily than I should. I can no longer determine how much of my judgment is influenced by the truth and what is influenced by these impure thoughts and feelings.” He felt bad for thinking it while she was clearly distraught, but thank fucking god. It was somebody involved in the investigation.

“My lady, speaking from my experience the only feelings that cloud your judgment are fear and rage.” Farnese stiffened. She was afraid. But of what? Maybe losing her already tenuous status? She was a nun, she was supposed to renounce all relationships when she entered the sisterhood. “I’m not saying it’s right, you know before god or anything, but more members of the church have relationships on the side than you’d think. They just know to keep them relatively quiet.”

“You would suggest I commit heresy?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. Just offering information.” Serpico put up his hands defensively. Farnese realized she was being too defensive. But how else was she supposed to behave? She committed heresy with her very thoughts! Her mind had been poisoned with brown eyes and a shy, gentle voice.

“It would be better if it was only heresy,” She spoke half under her breath.

There was definitely an aspect of this they were dancing around. Serpico’s mind drifted to everyone involved. Casca: Made Farnese feel murderous not guilty. Judeau: Clearly already involved. No real contact between the two. Pippin: possibility but too quiet. Still no contact. Charlotte: … Oh god that’s who it was wasn’t it. If Farnese was having “impure thoughts” about her that would be heresy. His sister would also probably consider feeling that way, whether she vocalized it or not, to be disrespectful to the crown. She was convinced she was staining Charlotte’s honor. Fuck! What was he supposed to do? The only thing he could really think to say was “hey guess what I’ve fucked men,” but as raw as she was right now, if he said that he could end up on the pyre. Shit! Think damn it! Think!

“My lady, while I do not pretend to understand what you are going through, I’ll always be by your side, alright?”

“I know, Serpico,” Farnese sighed. She didn’t sound much better. He didn’t expect her to sound much better immediately, but he hoped he could’ve lifted her spirits at least somewhat. She resumed her prayer as he ducked back out. At least she had switched to a prayer for strength rather than defense against corruption.

Charlotte was beginning to feel incredibly guilty. She knew she should have asked more questions, tried to get to know Griffith and Casca better, but reading through Pippin’s chronicle really drove home how little she knew. They had been through alot, far more than her sheltered upbringing would have allowed. Once again that guilt gnawed at her. She had called upon them for help when there were so many moments she should have offered her protection. She had the power, if only she had been more involved in politics, or the strength to stand against her father or… Pippin put a hand on her shoulder and gave her an inquisitive look.

“Sorry it’s just a lot to take in. I feel terrible relying on the help of people who have gone through so much worse.”

“You don’t have to be the most miserable person here to deserve help. You’re going through something. That’s all that matters.”

“But, I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

“You didn’t do anything to deserve what happened to you either. Why should you only care about whether or not you deserve it when nice things happen to you?”

Charlotte thought about it for a moment. He was right. She didn’t know when she’d started thinking that she didn’t deserve good things in her life. She needed help, why was she agonizing over whether she deserved to ask for it?

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Pippin resumed his work. So Charlotte was the reticent type. He’d seen others like her before. The kind of person that disregarded their own suffering because they knew that other people had it worse. You can bleed out just as easily from losing a finger as losing an arm. The first and hardest thing he’d have to do was convince Charlotte of that as well.

Casca was beginning to get concerned again. Things were going too well. They were only a few days out from the capital and still the only trouble they’d run into were the ameteur kidnappers. Something should have happened by now. There should’ve been a professional squad on their tail by now. Then again, the King’s two dirty work squads had been taken out of commission. The majority of the Black Dog Knights were either dead or on the run and the Hawks had defected. Well they were a mercenary squad, so “changed clients” was probably more accurate. Either way, the King must have been dealing with mercenaries if it was taking this long for something to happen. Then again maybe she was just being too paranoid. Maybe things were going alright because they were supposed to and not because some inevitable bad thing was going to happen. Maybe for once she could fucking relax. Casca felt something whiz by her ear. Ah, never mind. Same shit as always.

“Haven’t we already done this song and dance before?” Casca remembered this guy from the tournament. The man with two daggers. It didn’t seem like he was using those today. Instead he held two bladed rings in his hands.

“A bloodless match like that is no true showcase of skill. The only true measure of our abilities is to fight for our lives!” He threw the two disks in his hands.

“Casca!” Casca didn’t let Judeau’s shout distract her as the two rings sped towards her. It reminded her of the training Guts had taught her. The trick was to not worry too much about the trajectories of the individual projectiles. Instead she had to wait until they got close and once one reached her head… Casca ducked under the first and knocked the second out of the air with her sword.

“You were able to track the trajectories of both at the same time?!”

“I didn’t need to.” Her reflexes had gotten sharper. Some of it might’ve been the training methods she was using, some of it might have been that she had steady meals and a comfortable place to sleep for once in her life, but she was at the top of her game. Even Judeau looked shocked. The man uncoiled his two whip-like swords.

“Well if the Chakrams were too easy for you, taste the blades of my Urumi, my most powerful weapon!” The metal blades were flexible and cracked like many tailed whips. She wasn’t going to be able to take that head on. Casca jumped from her horse and fled into the thick foliage. “Ah, so you’ve decided to run away?” Silat shot his blade into the brush hoping to strike her. Exactly what she had hoped he’d do. She darted back out running towards him. He tried to pull his weapons back to defend himself but they had become tangled in the bushes. Casca brought her own sword down on his head as hard as she could. He quickly dropped his Urumi and brought up his twin daggers to defend himself. Casca kicked his knee and she heard something crack. His mask slipped from his face as he fell to the ground. He grimaced through the pain of his hyperextended leg. “Your name is Casca right?” He had an unusually pointy nose. “I’ll remember that.” He limped off as fast as he could manage. She breathed a sigh of relief, he must have decided it wasn’t worth his life.

Judeau was looking at her weird. “What’s the problem?” She hopped back up onto her horse.

“Nothing. There’s no problem.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” She watched his expression out of the corner of her eye.

“We’ve been talking a lot about how Guts and Griffith have changed but you know, you’ve changed a lot as well.”

“It… it isn’t too much is it?” Her old insecurity was rearing its head.

“No! No, it’s well, I was just thinking that, a year ago, maybe…”

“He likes it,” Pippin finished for him. “He chokes when he has to admit he likes something.” Pippin gave him a knowing look.

“T-there’s nothing wrong with appreciating competence.” The tips of his ears were bright red.

Casca had changed. She’d freely admit that. She’d been slowly and surely becoming more than just a sword in someone else’s scabbard. She wasn’t sure how the others would react to a Casca that wasn’t just everybody’s big sister, that was a person with ambitions independent of the band. A person who could stand on her own independent of it. Pippin ruffled Judeau’s hair with one of his massive hands. Casca smiled. She shouldn’t have worried.