And so it transpired that at the beginning of the end that all the strands of my web did begin to draw together. It seemed to me then that all of my life - all the hardships I had endured, all that I had lost and gained, all that I had done throughout my life - had been building up to this; the single most important scheme I had ever concocted. The sweetest revenge for my beloved husband, and your father.
Jenn paused in her writing and looked down at the page. The black ink glistened enticingly upon the creamy parchment, the letters of the words flowing gracefuly from one side to the next with no space wasted. For weeks she had been working on this book, but she was not done yet.
Leofric, her darling little child, would never know his father now. Siward had been so cruelly wrested away from them both and their son would never know his sire except through other peoples tales. He might hear much of the mans bravery as he grew up, and perhaps a goodly amount about his savagery, but he would never truly know. That seemed the worst thing of all to Jenn, especially in light of her own deceptive lifestyle. He would never know his father and he could never be allowed to learn the truth of his mother; not whilst she still lived of course. Thus did she write it all down, every word, every truth, the days of her life, that he might read of her long after she was gone and truly come to understand the woman who had birthed him.
Her mind drifted to the present as she leaned back in her seat, absently stroking the feather of the quill back and forth across her lips. So many deceptions, so little time, but that just made it all the more amusing.
She had two of them now. Two pieces of the set, two slabs of prime beef, two sets of bait. Two, whilst being a very good number, was not yet enough. A third was required to complete the trap and she would have him very soon indeed.
The airhead and the guard dog. The featherbrain and the turkey. One was yet to wake and the other so quick to talk. All it had taken was the right act, the right sob story and a believable set of villains. If Jenn had learned anything through the years it was that lies were so much easier to swallow and so much more difficult to see through when they held just enough truth to them.
Daigan was dealt with now. The grave had been dug and filled and to the best of her knowledge not a single person in Bree had noticed him gone. Oh, they might ask in time, they might wonder what had happened to him, but he had so many enemies that it would be assumed his life had been taken or else he had run away to find a new place to make his home. Not a single eye would turn her way, nor a single suspicion be cast in her direction and that was as it should be.
Blodwynn and Davick rested in chains in the deep velvet darkness of the dungeon and soon they would call forth Baradar to the same place, to face the same fate. The three who dared shelter the wretched girl, the three who thought to help her escape retribution, the three who so stupidly tried to stand between Jenn and her victim, would be together again. This time to face their punishment.
