The Gildheart Monster

The rain fell, rattling against the large man's armor as he lifted a smaller foe by the throat and his other hand plunged a dagger into the gaps of his armor. His lady looked on as her servant murdered the servant of a lord who sought to claim her lands and disgrace her name. One stab led to blood spurting and seeping through the armor, a second led to a jolt in the dying man's body and a third led to the servant's name being called and the limp, armored corpse hitting the floor, "Enough Ro'tov," The armored man named Ro'tov walked away from the dead man as the other lord stood in shame, looking disappointed at the center of the muddy battlegrounds. He walked next to his master as she moved towards the lord representative of the King and bowed her head.

"Lady Gildheart is to be named the rightful owner of the lands of Govendor with its main city being that of Lady Gildheart's manor," He announced, "Lord Barov is to be reminded of his own lands and that he is not to step out of line or there will be severe consequences."

"Thank you, Sir Trevor," She turned around and Ro'tov stepped aside and let her pass before following her. It was his duty and his sole purpose to serve his master and to be her bodyguard, assistant, champion and protector. The lands that fell under the rule of the Quveton Kingdom had a simple, yet complicated social structure. There were two main classes, the servant class and the ruling class, Ro'tov fell into the servant class while Lady Gildheart fell into the ruling class. He was only as important as his master, making him above a lesser servant but lesser than anyone in the ruling class. His plate armor clanged slightly as he followed her and held a cover for Lady Gildheart to stay out of the rain while it drenched him. She climbed into her carriage and shoo-ed him with her hand, he nodded and placed the cover on the top of the carriage and climbed onto the front with the driver, a man who wasn't a servant but acted as Lady Gildheart's driver, "Tough fight, Ro'tov?" The servant shook his head as the horses started to pull the carriage along the cobblestone paved road, "I assume Lady Gildheart won her claim to her own lands?" The large servant man nodded and the driver smiled, "Good, we keep our jobs for more time."

"Yes, sir," Ro'tov replied as he looked forwards, his hand sitting on the hilt of his sheathed blade and the other sitting on his dagger's hilt. It was his duty to be the protector of Lady Gildheart as well as her property despite also being part of that property.

The rain continued as Ro'tov held the rain cover over Lady Gildheart as she entered her manor and was greeted by her butlers and maids. These were not servants but simply people wanting work and they could all, without real consequence, talk down to Ro'tov if they so desired, "Ro'tov."

"Yes, my lady," The large man replied as his lady stopped in the entrance of her home, "What can I do for you?"

"You are dismissed for the night, get cleaned up and rest well, tomorrow I have more tasks for you to undertake," He bowed his head and handed the rain cover to a butler before walking down a hallway towards his quarters. Lady Gildheart was a proper lady, clean, direct and a woman who demanded respect. Due to this, she expected the man who fought for her and killed for her to do the same, granting Ro'tov the chance to have access to servants, butlers and maids to aid him in those subjects. He was a lady's servant and therefore lived a life of luxury in exchange for his bruising, violent and savage work.

The rain had stopped as Lady Gildheart walked into the center of a small town that lay on her lands. Ro'tov walked behind her, hands resting on the dagger and sword on his belt. The villagers knew that her appearance wasn't good for whoever she was looking for, "I am looking for the mayor, do you happen to know where he is?" Ro'tov's lady asked to a trembling merchant, "I need to have a discussion with him."

"T-T-T-T-T-Town hall…" He replied and pointed at a building in the center of the small town.

"Thank you," She turned and her white dress gently swayed in the wind as the gray and black plate armor of Ro'tov clattered together as he walked. She was death and he was her hand.

The mayor was grabbed by the throat and slammed down into a table, breaking it in two and making the older man wince in pain, "You haven't paid the taxes you owe me for this harvest, Samuel," A servant man walked in and froze as he saw his master being manhandled by the armored thug, "Where is it?"

"Let go of him!" The smaller man charged Ro'tov before a iron covered fist slammed into his stomach and stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Sweep him aside, Ro'tov," He nodded and, with a singular, powerful strike, the servant man was left on the floor in pain as well. The hulking man returned to the mayor and gripped his throat with both hands and lifted him, "What should I take from you if you can't pay?"

"I," He wheezed, "I will pay, give me some time."

"No, what can I take to make up for the lack of money."

"I have three quarters of it," Lady Gildheart raised an eyebrow, "The chest, there," He pointed at a chest in the room and his body was dropped as Ro'tov headed to the safe, "Use the key," The mayor reached into his pocket and gave the armored goon a small key.

"So you have the 7,500 coins in there?"

"7,853," He coughed as he got to his knees, "Lady Gildheart, but not everything."

"Why not?"

"R-Rains, Hail, b-b-bad harvest."

"Is there money in there, Ro'tov?" He pulled out a bag of money before nodding, "Nearly enough?"

"I believe so, my lady."

"Good, take it, but you are still missing over 2,000, what do I do with that?" She asked as she stood up and looked out the small window, "Will the next payment be of greater value?"

"I don't know, Lady Gildheart," She glared at him.

"What do I take then?" He shrugged and looked as if he was at the end of his rope. Ro'tov could do nothing but simply follow his orders and do what his lady wanted him to, no questions asked, no questions needed. He would murder if she said murder, Ro'tov would harm if she said harm and he would easily intimidate if she said intimidate. They brought fear in towns that hadn't paid for their right to stay on lands and after a beating like what Mayor Samuel had just received, many mayors would simply quit and leave, letting their job go to the next unlucky bastard. Did he enjoy it? Not necessarily. Did he need to do it? Yes, it was his duty. Did he have a choice to say no? Of course he did, but the consequences would simply be being discarded or left to die, no longer being her servant.

"You are a useful tool for my power, Ro'tov," She admitted as he stood by the entrance of her quarters while she read messages and wrote in her papers, "You will maintain an important place in my mind as long as that continues."

"Yes, my lady," She was quick to praise him but also put him down. His battle prowess led to praise as a good blade for her to use, his bruising made him a good stick to strike those who oppose her and his protection was a useful shield. He was an object for her to use and abuse, if he broke, she would replace him, if he was worn out, she would do the same.

The violence that Ro'tov had caused to helpless people remained in his mind as he did what he was told. How many bones had he broken? How many teeth had he knocked out? What about murders? How many people had fallen by his hand for his lady? He couldn't remember the names but he marked each death he caused with a marking on his armor, tapping in a tally. That tally continued to grow as he continued to work for Lady Gildheart.

His work drew negative attention once more and the defender of the people, Lord Telot, a proud knight who fought by himself, for himself as his own champion and who sought to prevent violence like that suffering that Lady Gildheart's orders brought. It drew him to fight for her once more, but this time, not against a young man who was listening to his master but against a man who had gone through 4 campaigns for the king and had caused more death than Ro'tov could ever cause.

"Lord Telot has accused Lady Gildheart of intimidation, violence, murder and beatings, commited against the people on her lands," The royal spokesperson announced, "Representing himself in a verdict via combat, Lord Telot against Lady Gildheart's champion," Lord Telot wore silver and bronze decorated armor. A large shield on his left arm and a decorated sword in his right hand. A full helmet only revealed his eyes which glared at Ro'tov with his own shield and sword.

"Crush him, Ro'tov, this is your duty," He turned his head and nodded. Lord Telot spun his sword as the battle started while moving forwards. Ro'tov wasn't the skilled fighter that Lord Telot was, he was just a bully and a bruiser, all self taught. A shield bash sent him back and barely out of reach from the crashing sword strike. It announced the violence Lord Telot would bring to this battle.

Blades clashed and struck metal plates before bouncing off harmlessly. The two large men traded blows as shields began giving up and blades grew dull. The older man was easily the most talented fighter and landed many strikes at leg plates and gauntlets, chipping away at them.

A strike with his boot dislodged the servant's shield before he swung at Ro'tov with his blade. Thinking with his primitive experience of fighting, the servant dashed forwards, into the attack and brought his blade into the lord's stomach. Metal bent and gave as the tip of the blade dug into Lord Telot's stomach as his blade struck down onto Ro'tov's leg, biting through his armor and into his calf. Both men were thrown to the ground as Ro'tov took the upper hand. Blows struck at the knight's helmet as the hilt of his sword began chipping away his helmet and cutting into his face, "Cease!" Lady Gildheart spoke up, "I do not wish to cause a kingdom hero's death, Sir Yivot," She stood and spoke to the spokesperson, "If I let my servant go on, he will kill the lord, he has won."

"I suppose that is true," The spokesperson replied, "The battle has concluded, Lord Telot's accusation is to be ignored," Ro'tov stood up before feeling the pain of his bleeding calf and held his hand out to the older man.

"You are a hell of a fighter, young man, what is your name?" Lord Telot asked.

"Ro'tov, Lady Gildheart's servant," He said as he couldn't lean onto his calf much. He limped towards his lady and she looked at his leg.

"Why are you limping?"

"My calf is injured, my lady."

"I will have someone look at it for you," Ro'tov nodded.

He stood alone in the square of the village as Lady Gildheart's carriage rode off. The fears that an injury would lead to the loss of use for her of his services turned out to be justified. Ro'tov was now a servant, disgraced by his master as he could no longer fight for her or do her bidding due to an injury he had sustained fighting for her, "I am a useful tool that has gone dull," He mumbled as rain began falling and he walked in his simple, worn clothes and with his calf wrapped to lessen the bleeding, "I am nothing."