Near Rochefort - 1079.

Thierry looked at the group of peasants in the distance.

"About 200 men, seigneur. Peasants, carrying tools. Just charge them and they'll start running."

"While the spearmen attack, the 4 horsemen go with me," Thierry said, ignoring the advice the senior officer had given him.

"But seigneur, it are just peasants. We don't need to..."

"Ta gueule!" Thierry shouted. "My father has put me in command and you'll do as you're told, understood, you imbécile!"

"Oui seigneur," the older man said.

Thierry turned towards his cavalry and shouted: "Infanterie! Attaque! Cavalérie! Suivez-moi!"

***

Near Rochefort 1079 - later that day.

Thierry looked at the men hanging in the oak trees. "Do we have all of them?" he asked.

The officer nodded. "All are dead, except this one."

A peasant was brought forward.

"Why is he still alive."

"It's a girl, seigneur. I assumed a chevalier as yourself doesn't want us to kill women."

Thierry started to take off his trousers while he gave the order: "Undress her."

"But, seigneur."

Thierry grinned.

"Don't worry, you can go after me. The rest of the men can go after you."

Hours later, the army of Rochefort left the horrible sight of a girl, bleeding to death, under a wood of oak trees decorated with rotting corpses.

***

Rochefort - 1080

Thierry was practicing with his sword in the courtyard, when his father came down, an outrageous look on his face.

To his surprise, his father planted his fist in his face.

"You imbécile! You moron!"

His father kicked his youngest son in the belly, on his back and gave him some more punches with his fists. When he was done, he sat down, next to Thierry, who was in aggony and pain.

"First you disgrace us with your behaviour on the field that is supposed to be the field of honor. And now, this!" he said, pionting at a basket with a little baby in it.

"It were just peasants. And that over there is not mine." Thierry groaned.

"Shut up, you fool! Appparently, you don't wish to learn chivarly from me and you don't want to learn that that sword between your legs is not there to be put in peasant girls."

His father stood up.

"I'm sending you away. To Paris. You get some bodyguards and one letter of recommendation and that will be it. Maybe they will teach you chivarly over there, maybe they won't. Whatever happens, I don't want to see your face again, you scumbag. Within three days, you're out of here. And as for this child... The smith's wife lost her youngest, she'll be happy to raise this one as her own."

***

Paris - 1080

Thierry looked over his shoulder when going through the southern city gate of Paris.

"Je suis libre, finalement!"

He looked at the letter in his hand and he wondered what would be in it. Unfortunately, it was sealed. He gave it to one of his bodyguards.

"Make sure this gets delivered. I'll go to my quarters and once I'm installed, I'll head directly for the tavern. Oh, and make sure my name is on the list of those participating in the tournament on your way back, will you?"