Part 1:5

Seth frowned, hesitated, then dropped to one knee and bowed his head. He tugged on Lucas’s arm until he awkwardly dropped down as well. He had never heard of Lord Colton Brack, and wherever Evergem was he could only guess. “Forgive us your Grace.”

The Viscount’s eyes widened, and his smile thinned leaving only the corners of his mouth turned up. “Stand young masters, I am not your Grace. Lord Brack will suffice, but I prefer if you called me Colton.”

Seth looked up into the Viscount's firm gaze. “Sorry your Grace,” he said standing, then corrected himself. “Lord Brack.”

The Viscount sighed and turned to Seth’s younger brother.

Lucas rose slowly, watching his brother and unsure of what to do.

“Remember your manners!” Seth whispered through the corner of his mouth and glancing sideways. He hoped Lucas wouldn’t do anything foolish as he usually did.

“And who might you be?” The Viscount said smiling, pretending not to hear the whisper.

Taking in a deep breath and drawing himself up to his full height, which barely reached the Viscount’s chest, he replied: “I’m Lucas Domitius.”

“Impressive,” The Viscount said, raising an eyebrow and dipping his head towards the child. He turned to Seth. “And you would be?” he said, his tone changing and taking some of the sincerity with it.

Seth held the Viscount’s gaze as long as he could. There was something behind those eyes that made the skin on the back of his neck prickle. His friendly manner seemed genuine, but the look in the man’s eyes worried at him. Something his father had once said about windows and eyes; ‘windows are eyes, or the souls of eyes are windows’. “Seth,” he responded.

The Viscount’s smile deepened, but the mirth was gone. Just a stretched face in the pretence of a smile. “You can see the truth of a man through his eyes. They are the windows to the soul," he said.

Seth’s eyes widened and he tried to look away, but the Viscount’s gaze held firm. He knew that Brack could see his fear.

“And your father?” the Viscount asked, his eyes roaming over the yard, stables, and house then back to him. “Where is the master of the house?”

“He’s gone,” Lucas said, almost shouting it.

“Lucas! Be quiet.” Seth said through clenched teeth. “What he means My Lord, is that our father is on his way back from the city and will be here soon.”

The Viscount appeared to relax. “Of course, then you won’t mind if we wait,” he said dismissively, his gaze remaining locked on Seth. “Sir Tymon?” he commanded.

Sir Tymon had his back turned and he was giving instructions to a subordinate. At the sound of the Viscount’s command, he straightened and marched towards them. “Yes, My Lord?” he asked, bowing.

“Secure the young masters in the house, search the place, take anything of value.” He paused, the muscles around his eyes tightened and his gaze hardened. “Then burn the house to the ground,” he said, the last coming out as a growl.

“Gladly,” grinned Sir Tymon and his eyes had a gleam that said: ‘See, I told you I’d come for you!’

Seth turned to run but the knight was faster and grabbed him by the back of his shirt, lifting him off the ground.

“No!” Seth shouted. “Why? We haven’t done anything to you!”

Lucas screamed and kicked Sir Tymon in the shin, but his steel greaves absorbed the kick. The knight’s grin widened and he grabbed Lucas by the hair, pulling his head back until he cried out and stopped squirming.

“Leave him alone,” Seth screamed, as the knight hoisted him over his shoulder. He pounded his fists on the man’s armored back.

Sir Tymon marched across the yard, dragging Lucas by the hair while Seth wriggled and kicked, still pounding his fists against the armor. The knight stomped up to the front door and kicked with a heavy booted foot, bursting it off its hinges and splintering the wood. He peered into the small entry hall beyond the shattered door, then stuck his head in and grimaced. The large knight then stomped through the house kicked in the door that led into the main passageway and turned to the first door on the right. He banged Lucas’s head against it, using his face to open the door and scanned the room. Satisfied, he shoved a dazed Lucas through and threw Seth onto the floor.

Seth jumped up and flung himself at Sir Tymon’s large, armored body. The knight smiled cruelly and sunk a boot into Seth’s belly, sending him flying across the room. His head hit the thick post of a bed and his vision swam. He slumped to the floor. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the door slam closed and the soles of Sir Tymon's leather boots through the gap beneath the door.

The Viscount stood in the middle of the yard and watched as flames escaped the windows of the house. Plumes of smoke found their way beneath the tiles of the roof and curled upwards, joining others to form a larger column billowing from the house.

“Did you find the ring?” he asked.

Sir Tymon’s back stiffened and he stared straight ahead. “No, my Lord.” He waited for a response, but the Viscount continued to stare into the flames.

“We searched every room, there was little of value. Just a small safe box with some coins and old scrolls written in an ancient script.” He dared a look at his lord. The Viscount’s expression remained unreadable, except for the slight twitch of a muscle at the corner of his eye.

“And what of any jewellery?”

Sir Tymon licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. “Nothing but simple trinkets my Lord.”

“Simple trinkets,” The Viscount repeated. “Every room?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The knight cleared his throat. “Except the room with the children.”

The Viscount rounded on Sir Tymon and stepped towards him. He leaned forward so that his face was only a few centimetres away from the knight’s. “Search every room!” he roared, spittle flying from his mouth.

Sir Tymon flinched. “B-but, My Lord, the house, it’s on fire.”

“Every room!”