01x01 - Pilot (Part 1)

Episode transcripts for the TV show "The Bαstαrd Executioner". Aired September - November 2015.
"The Bαstαrd Executioner" tells the story of an early 14th century warrior knight in King Edward The Third's charge who is broken by the ravages of w*r and vows to lay down his sword, but when that v*olence finds him again, he is forced to pick up the bloodiest sword of all.
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01x01 - Pilot (Part 1)

Post by bunniefuu »

Double episode (includes parts 1 and 2).


(men shouting, swords clanging)



(men shouting)






(groaning, panting)


(gasping softly)

I am devoted.

Your servant.

You have a destiny to claim.

Tell me... heavenly one.

Tell me what you will have me do.

It is time to lay down the sword, Wilkin Brattle.

(older woman's voice): Your savior needs you to live the life of a different man.


I will.

I understand.

I will.

(birds chirping)

♪ ♪

(dragon roaring)







The dream?

You're my only dream.

(chuckles softly)

Will you ever tell me what you see?

I see only my lovely Petra.


Oh, please.

How can you desire such a cow?

Oh, but a beautiful cow it is.



Oh, he kicks fierce as his father this morning.

How do you know it's a he?

Annora insists your firstborn will be an heir.

Ah, we're taking divine council from the Slavic witch now, are we?

She's a healer, not a witch.

Her herbs help my weakness and sleep.

And the silent hooded one-- does he offer dirt scratch visions of our son's fate?


Insists he'll be as pious and mule-headed as his father.

I'm not mule-headed.

I just devote to the thing at hand.


Get your breeches up and devote to filling the barrels.

We're near out of water.

Think that would be a task for a strong cow.

(both laughing)


(laughing continues)

(sighs): Oh.

Oh, no! Oh!

(laughing continues)


(laughing continues)

(man grunting, sighing) _

(both panting)

I'm sure they're wasted seeds.

Like the rest.

God will bestow us with a child in his time, Erik.

Then let God waste his hours chasing a barren hole with swollen meat.

(door opens)

(door slams)

(quiet knocking)


(door opens)

Morning, Baroness.


(indistinct chatter outside)

(horse neighs in distance)

Should I draw a bath, milady?

I need more than a bath, sweet Isabel.

So much more.

♪ born with a heart ♪
♪ that could ache more than b*at ♪
♪ the mind of a k*ller ♪
♪ the soul of the meek ♪
♪ flock with no shepherd ♪
♪ is a vulnerable game ♪
♪ I can live without a hearth ♪
♪ without love ♪
♪ but I do need a name ♪
♪ Father, do you burn ♪
♪ if your hand is in f*re? ♪
♪ does your head spin with rage ♪
♪ when fooled by the liars? ♪
♪ King of the kings ♪
♪ do you feel any pain? ♪
♪ do you feel any pain? ♪

(wind whistling softly)

It is time.

Your pagan confidant awaits you.

(Petra laughs)

As does your fur-covered squire.

(sheep bleats)

I'm looking.

Calm yourself.

You're such an impatient ewe.

(both laughing)


I'll sheer you raw, throwing that in my face.

It was but one time.

Very dark.

She had familiar wool.


I am true.

And you're one to talk.

Yeah, I see you in the fields.

Your tartish play.

Catching a rub on every buck and ram.

Mutton troubles, my friend?

Good day, Wilk, Petra.

She's a bit of crankypox.



I know.

Perhaps Miriam needs a little rest.

That's all she does is sleep.

Sleep, eat and shit.

That's because it's a sheep.


Oh, wit. (laughs)


And a beautiful one.

Yeah, I'm sorry, honeypot.

I know. My fault.



Love spreads like a sweet healing balm.

Yea. (chuckles)



How many troops with the tax collector?

Three knights of the familia, five horsemen.

All skilled.

These hooded thieves will meet a fierce surprise.


And if their hoods hide the faces of rebels?

They would ride in numbers with their wolf.

The Byth Encil wouldn't just steal a mere piece of your bounty, my lord.

These att*cks are an assertion of condition.

It's righteous peasants setting their own rule of tribute.

Then crush them, Milus.

They ignite the rabble.

If they steal from us again, we'll have more aspiring outlaws than servants to wipe my shit.


Take care, fool.

You're not scrubbing a floor.

Mes plus sincères excuses, mon Leige.

Brother Wilk.

(horse neighs)

We've heard from our friends in Glen Darby Birch.

Ventris comes again. Collectors.


Calo: - More brutal than ever.

Doubled the tax, doubled the guards.

Toran: They'll be at our door by daybreak.

Our journey is longer traveling off the main trails.

We need to ride now if we want to catch them in darkness.

His troops will be ready for us.

The risk grows too great.

They'll take what little stock and harvest we have left.

A winter of starvation is the greater risk.

We can't do this without you.


Gather supplies.

We'll need to ride before midday.

I want to fight, Wilk.

No, Ash.

You're of better use here.

But I'm of proper age.

It's a proper mind we're in need of.

Ash: I'm clever.

Please, I want to help.

Berber: If we need to make haste off beaten paths, no one knows the woods better than our clever trapper.

Ash: - Yeah. True.

I know every twig from here to the sea caverns.


You can ride with us, but you don't fight. And the sheep stays here.

I get a hood though, right?

Yea. I'll make you one out of sheepskin.

(men laugh)

Petra: - You can leave Miriam in our pen; she'll be safe there.


You're a cruel one, Toran Prichard.

He's tupping mindless beasts, and I'm the cruel one?

Come on. (clicks tongue)

Come on there, boys.

I know that look.

You should.

I wear it often.

Ventris is sly and brutal.

It's only time and chance before you feel his blade.

You're not a rebel, Wilkin.

Let the band of Byth Encil take their defiant vengeance to our baron.

This isn't about vengeance.

You heard your father.

We take this risk to survive.

The baron's tax leech comes twice a season now.

We've barely stock and food to live.

You're the only stock I can't live without!


Annora: Good morning, farmer.

Fair dame.

And how is our gentle lytling doing today?

Very active.


A life eager to begin a greater journey.


You must cover this wound.

The spill layer of the river swims with sickness.

I'm fine.

And in three days' time, you will be weak and fevered.

Boil these.

Soak the wound in the broth.


Thank you.

The other man.

God has put him on our path.

(door opens)

Quarter rips for the other two quaints.

(sighs) _

It's double shillings for that.

Finish the task.

Fair rate will follow.



Did you soak the rag in dumb paste?

I... I...

The pot wouldn't fit in the bags, Father.

But I can...


Stupid and weak.

Stupid and weak.

God, I hate when she does that.


Lady Love?




(sighs softly)

Can you please not do that, Love?

My heart drowns with you every time.

I'm fine, dear Isabel.

I've been swimming in this water since I was born.

The chill refreshes my spirit.

Reminds me of who I am.

The baroness who caught her death?

The hopeful Welsh girl who knows God holds her close.

He has a journey in mind.


I know that girl.

Time is a most aggressive foe, Milus.

Favor of my rule changes with the wind.

The unrest that grows on this damp rock...

I need to make my gains now, while I still hold the king's trust.

Wealth, my lord, is the foundation of any temple of power.

We need to fortify our resources.

Steeper taxes and tariffs.

Yes, agreed.

Pardon, Lord Ventris, good Chamberlain.

Baron Pryce's emissary waits for you at the market.

He is... quite eager.

I assume Pryce sends no gifts with his eager messenger?

Gifts, Baron?

Stuffed pheasant. Aged wine.

A bevy of virgin whores.

Why would he send such?

Ballok cod.

Why does he want an audience?

Oh, yes.

Again, he makes a heated point of the steep tariff.

Asserts that Baron Pryce will refuse payment if it grows again.

If Pryce wants access to the sea, he will pay for it.

And if he refuses, then we have cause to assert power.

Into Pryceshire?

But his legions outnumber ours.

Pryce is a man of books.

Thinkers die in battle.

Good Baron.


What is our passage for today, Father?


We're learning how God created us in his likeness.

Gave us a perfect world.

Care to join us, Baron?


Another time, Father.

And what of our king?

Where will Edward sit in this dispute with you and Baron Pryce?

Where his soft French bottom always sits-- in the middle, waiting like a flowered girl to coo the victor.

With a mouth full of noble seed.

Ah, yes. Because he's a bit fancy.

(door creaks)

(cattle moos)

(sheep bleats, horses neigh)

(chickens clucking)

Ventris: Tell Pryce's man the tariff just went up again.

A third?

More than fair.

But, my lord, you... you realize you taunt him by raising it yet again?

The taunt is the message.

Deliver it.

Yes. Sorry.

Baron. Chamberlain.

Hello, sir.

Ventris: Your young brother doubts our methods.

Half my blood.

Quarter the brains.


Aron: Hey.

Give it here. You carried Da's a* last ride.

Yeah, because you don't have the arm to swing it, puny-kin.

Says you, you fat elf.


Oh, hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, hey!

Will you two ever grow up?

You should be whittling me toys, not playing hero, old man.

Whittling is for the lame of mind, motherly daughter.


Be certain that's not how you return.

Toran: No need to wear the funeral mask.

I'm not d*ad yet, wife.

The mask is for me.

You'll be the death of me, you reckless poke.



You keep her heavy on the mead while I'm away, boy.

She's bearable that way.

Am I a ghost without ears?

I will, Da. Heaps of it.



We'll be back before half moon.


I'll be here. Twice the cow.

You stay in there.

No catching your mother with a sneakish birth.

Running the laws of nature now, farmer?

Wilkin: Never, dear Eva.

I leave the control of all things earthly to the women.

God keep you safe.




(arrows whooshing)



(neck snaps)

We meet again, tax man!


(sobbing): Oh, please. Oh, please.

Spare me still.


Tell your greedy lord, if he keeps biting like the boar, we keep laying the traps.


Where's your horse, tax man?!


(men chattering, snickering)


Yeah, it is true, friend.

I'll own skill of this one day.

I'll make my little wings that vanish on the bark.

I will fly.

Woden has promised me.

(horses approaching)

Ah, my friends return.

(horse neighs)


Bag the chattel and furs.


(wings flapping)

(horse neighs in distance)

Corbett: Destiny has met your ambitious young warrior.

Wilkin Brattle will no longer draw favor from the king.

The long blades of the Scots served us well.

An inspired plan, good Marshal.

Send troops for the bodies.

If we bring him back, Constable, Brattle will be seen as a slain hero who stood up to an army of Scots.

They will immortalize him.

Perhaps we take comfort knowing that we serve God's hungry creatures.


Feast on, my friends!

King-fed meat!

(both laugh)

Forgive me.

Dyer: Baron Pryce.

Pardon, my lord.

Your emissary has returned from Ventrishire.

Finish with disbursement, Chamberlain.

Of course.

Trula: Edwin.

It is much too damp in this room.

Yes, my love.


Take the baroness to the sun room.


Who's next?

Gawain Maddox!

The traveling punisher.


(coins clink)

You claimed fairness.

This is half my wage.

Dyer: Do you know how many journeymen pass through this shire every week, hmm?

Blacksmiths, bowmen, even executioners such as yourself.

Many flee the South in search of work.

That doesn't mean we don't deserve our rightful pay.

If you do not find this satisfactory, move on.

Find yourself another shire where you can peddle your brutal gifts.


Reeve: Barclay the minstrel.

Ah, the minstrel.

We travel.

But where to, Maddy?

To the sea.



(door opens)

Corbett: Forgive us, Baron.

My lady.

There's been another att*ck.

Hooded thieves.

All eight of our men slain.

Jonas: Took us in darkness.

Deadly ghosts.

The same ones?


Six, in familiar hoods.

There was another this time, deeper in the woods.

Saw a flash of his face.

A young one.

How do you know he was a bandit?

Jonas: He was hooded.

His clothing was different, all hides and furs, but he was with them.

Uh, a watcher perhaps.

What kind of fur did he wear?

It had sheen-- uh, beaver pelt, I'd say.

Costly vesture for a peasant bandit.


What rivers do they dam?

I'm not sure.

Colder ones, perhaps.

West to the sea.


Gwynedd and the minor turns.


Branches of the Dunoding run west.

Touch the far end of the shire.

We've settlers there?

No, I think...

Jonas: Yes.

Yes, we do.

Barley farmers.

West River Riding.

Quarterly collections.

Oh, West River.

Yes, of course.

Half legion and horsemen, my charge.

You ride with us.

Pick out the watcher.

Make sound guesses of the others without their clever hoods.

Corbett: You as well, Reeve.

Get to know your shire.

Randulf: Yes, dear brother.

Baron. My lady.

And what of manor law?

Is there a mind for fairness in your swift purpose?

Of course, my love.

Fair process for every man.

I know your distress is undoubtedly about the safety of your husband, my lady, but an ignorant eye may see it as concern for the welfare of outlaws.

Well, I thank my maker that I'm in the presence of a man who never leans towards ignorance.


Knowledge is my service.


Perhaps you should share some of that knowledge with my husband.

Let him know that his thirst to grow this shire should not be quenched with the sweat and blood of its own people.

It is the people's duty to tithe.

Only rebels refuse to honor the rule of law.

No commoner wants rebellion.

It only comes after hope and reason are b*rned to the ground.

Tell me, Baroness.

How is it that someone of your privilege may come to know the plight of the common man?

Well, unlike some within these walls, I live with open eyes and open heart.

You will break them, Milus.

And we both know there's nothing more dangerous than a Welshman who has nothing to lose.

Keep my husband to a safe path.

I'm depending on you, good Chamberlain.

(excited chatter and laughter in distance)

(excited chatter continues)


Man: Melt it down, and you shall have whatever you like.

(pipe playing)

Our brave hunters approach.

Ash: Midshire hares!

Big enough to mount. (laughs)

We want to skewer them with sticks, not with our pricks, you beast-lover.


Jacob: Don't listen to him, boy.

We take our comfort wherever we find it.

And what if you find him taking comfort in your pen... poking your prize hog?


I don't fancy hogs.


That's true. He's a one-sheep man.

(laughter continues)

Why does Wilk use oak and not a blade?

There are many things we do not know about our leader.

Even Petra knows little of his life before he came to the river.

Ash: Had to be a soldier.

The fight skill he's given you-- that was learned on a field of battle, not barley.

We've all tales best kept locked in our head.

More of your song.

♪ ye talisman give potion... ♪

You should eat.


(singing continues in distance)

Ventris will keep doubling his guards.

Yeah, we can't do this alone anymore.

You saw the daffodil hides in the trees.

The Byth Encil rebels would welcome our skill.

I can arrange for a meet, and we can...

I serve God and family, not cause or crown.

Give straight, brother.

You think the gates of heaven will fly open because you down a man with wood instead of steel?

Perhaps not.

We've both watched men die by the work of our hands, Wilkin.

In service of gods or king, it doesn't matter.

We're driven by a deeper burn, and we need to feel that or we wither.
(horses approaching)

Where's your man?!

Where's your right?


No farmer here.

Only women and useless elders.

Where are your men?!

Petra: They're hunting, Lord Ventris.

Skins for the next harvest.

In the dark?

Do I seem a fool?

Slit the boy's throat.

No! No! No!

Stop! Stop!

Where are they?

A lie bleeds two throats.

They... they went to Glen Darby Birch.

With their hoods?


Yea! With hoods!

How many?


You expect your baron to believe that a pox-dowed band of farmers have skill enough to knell our noble ranks?

He should.

His ranks seem only fit to strike women and children!

(Eva screaming)



k*ll them all.

Burn it to the ground.

Petra: You devils!

You curs!

They will hunt you down and cut out your stone hearts!

Make this one a sight for deep memory.


Let it strike a pain that cannot be hidden with insolent hoods.

(screaming) Run, Petra!

(laughs) Fetch her!

(Eva screaming)

This is a breach of law.

Both God and king.


This is madness!

Please, my lord. Please.

Relieve our collector of his moral conflict.




I beg of you. Please!

Find the God you defend.

Have mercy, please.

Not for me, but for the innocent heart b*ating inside, please.



(praying quietly)



And don't ever come back here, not anywhere in this shire.

You'll be sure as d*ad.





(blade s*ab)



Corbett: The farmers will see the smoke.

They won't ride into a waiting att*ck.

I want them alive.

For now.

Let them suffer this.


(twig snaps)


You... you.

What are you...?


Careful, boy.

S-Sorry, Ma. (groans)

It's shit. Hmm?

Like the lot of you.

Come here.

I'm-I'm sorry.

(baby crying)

Don't mother him.

He needs to feel the pain of his mistake.

Jessamy: He feels it.

I won't tend it.

Please, enjoy the drink.

We have another bird.

I'll feed you in short.

Don't put rule on me, whore!


No. (crying)

Crawl, you cur!

Jessamy: Please, Maddy.

Gawain: Show me the trench.

The village!

Hyah! (shouts)

(horse neighs)

(Wilkin groans)

(shuddering breaths)







(crying softly)

Dear child.




Sweet boy.

My Rhys.

This was Ventris.

His collector as proof!

Savage noble!

Damn your holy destiny.

(sobbing): Devil Christ. Damn you.




Jacob: The sword.

Crest of Edward the First.


Calo: Where does he ride?

To meet the devil.

As are we.

Our families...

Will be avenged.

(horse neighs)



See to the d*ad.

This is my fight.

We've all earned this horror.

I've no plan but vengeance.

The only plan left.

Yea, then.

To Castle Ventris.

(horse neighs)



This is mine.

(shuddering breaths)

My due.

My sorrow.

Forgive me.

(sizzling, quiet gasping)

(panting, sobbing)

The witch.

What brings you so far east, woman?

The same thing that brings all of you.

We flee the darkness.

Did you witness the m*ssacre?


But I will witness yours unless you alter your purpose.

There's nothing to alter.

We face what's ahead.

But you do not need to face it alone.

Your cynic-- he has ties to the way of victory.

You are all knots and coil.


Pain of yesterday's fierce effort.

(sighs softly)

So you found your bandits.


But we met with the proof of their guilt.

And you've returned with that proof?


Difficult to carry bone and slag.

(door opens)

Corbett: My lord.

A scout came through from midshire this morning.

Spotted seven men traveling east last night.

One with a sword bearing Longshanks' mark.

Our bandits on a mission, perhaps.

Taking their vengeance to my gate?

Are they that mad with grief?

Or soldiers willing to die in service of their sorrow.

I think it best we meet them in journey, away from anyone who may see this fool play as valiant.


Protect the walls.

Prepare a full legion of foot soldiers.

I'll gut this warrior bandit.

Choke him cold with a snare of his own entrails.

A fine plan, my lord.

Are you waiting for a royal proclamation?

Go with him, Reeve.

Yes, indeed. Chamberlain.

My lady.

(horses neighing)

Who are you, traveler?

Gawain Maddox, milord.

I come up from the South.

Punisher by trade.

You have tools in possession?


Ride with us.

I may need your services.

My family.

Ride the main trail north.

It leads to Castle Ventris.

They can wait there.

Just follow on.

I'll be with you.

(horses sputtering)

Do you remember me, Earl Constable?

I'm the knight you sent to his death at the hands of the hoarding Scots.


You know this man, my lord?

If you are indeed that knight, you're either a deserter or a ghost.

If not d*ad then, then d*ad now.

I live with the terror of your betrayal every day.

But I'll spare you that pain.

Death will quiet your mind.

They're all rebels, milord.

Time to go back to hell, Marcher Baron!


(horses neighing)

Deus vult!

(men shouting)


Go, go, go!





Not ghost, nor deserter.

Nor hood.




Ventris: London will hunt down the hooded bandits and crush your toy rebellion.

I've no rebellion.

Just a need to see you die.


How is he? Will he heal?

Only blood runs, no other humors.

He will sleep.

Berber: Ventris was right.

The king's army will come, hunt down the hooded thieves.

Yea. No rock unturned until our shit holes are split on the cradle.


Your, uh... your dark friend-- is he, um... in our pope's grace?

A moor, converted in his homeland.

A good Catholic like us all.

Yea. Bloody work is the Lord's.

Toran: Indeed.

I need a name to offer my thanks.


You're the one they call "the wolf."

I'm called many hard things.

Most by my wife.

Thank you for answering our plea, Gruffudd.

We serve each other, friend.

The baron's forged w*apon will be a welcome change from our sticks and cobbled blades.

Ventris has lost nearly two legions.

His army is weakened.

We're not ready to storm walls.

Even with noble swords.

But word of this victory will spread and it will inspire.

Our numbers will grow.

I have no doubt.

Godspeed for your knight's return to sound body.

An unlikely ally in our fight.

Let him know there may come a time when I collect on this favor.

Toran, Moor!

You crazy witch!

To what end does this devilry serve?


The baron has returned?

No. But I have news of his need.

At Heaven's Eye, we saw the rebel symbols.

Lord Ventris sent me back to secure more troops.

Sent you back? Alone?

Not to spare arms he may need.

I welcomed the risk of riding apart.

Gather what men we can spare.

With haste.

Shall I find the baroness?

No. You should find a bath.

You reek of shit.

And fear.



You join the living.

Who did this?

The healer.

She offered no reason.


Cut her binds.

Why did you cut and scar me?

To save you.

Your only chance to live is to be supposed d*ad.

He gives you that gift.

Who are you, woman?


What's your interest in me?

You have a fate... that you must learn to hold.

One that will forever mark your place in time.

I am here to help tell that story.

My story is over.


It is just g*n.

The angel spoke the truth.

The angel?

The bright child who came to you.


I've never whispered a word of that to anyone.

I hear the same voices.

It's time to lay down this sword, Wilkin Brattle.

(angel child's voice): Your savior needs you to live the life of a different man.

Unhitch one of the horses, brother.

Then go join the others at the caves.

I think I'll finish the ride, friend.

A plan hatched by a witch-- what's to worry?

We deliver the d*ad, tell the tale, and ride off.

Free men, no price on our head.

It's a sound devise.

Simple enough an executioner could carry it forth.


And what say of your purpose.

What name for you? Sneermonger?

Well, my da, he wanted to call me Marshal.

But my ma thought it too destined to w*r.

Ma got the name, da got the destiny.

Yea, indeed.

And what of your father?

You never tell of anything.

There's nothing to tell. I don't have one.


(children's choir singing Latin hymn)

(choir continues singing Latin hymn)

(choir continues)

Isabel: Pardon, Baroness.

(choir stops singing)

Outsiders have come.

They bring sad news.

Bring him down.

My deepest condolences, Lady Love.

Let's bring you and the baron into the castle so you can mourn in peace.

Have the baron taken to the sacrament room.

Who are you?

Gawain Maddox, milady.

Punisher by trade, from the southern land.

This is Marshal, a journey soldier-- he aids me in the capture of the accused.

Tell me of his death.

We met the baron at Heaven's Eye.

Called upon us to ride with him.

At the grass fields, they crossed a band of hooded thieves.

Took a fierce run.

Noblemen cut down the seven of them.

Wilkin: Before the baron could rally, rebels att*cked.

50 or more.

Caught the ranks tired and out of formation.

Your husband fought gallantly, but the numbers were too steep.

I'm sorry.

Old men and boys.

Wilkin: Your mail-clad soldiers were too heavy to carry.

We can send troops there to collect the others.

Lady Love: And what brings an executioner to Ventrishire?

Work, milady.

I travel, go where my services are needed.

Randulf: He lies!

This man is not the executioner.

He's one of the thieves.

As is that one.

You're the liar, sir.

I've traveled with Gawain for many years.

Dispatch a messenger to Glamorgan for proof.

There is no other face looks like this one.

Wilkin: We just came to deliver the d*ad.

Out of respect.

We'll leave if it upsets your court.

You'll stay and be quartered.

The remedy for this dispute is already here.

The wife and children of Maddox, sent here to wait for his return.

Come forward.

Tell us the truth.

Is this man indeed your husband?


(trembling breaths)

(whispers): I'm sorry.

My love.

Good Maddy, thank God you've come back safe.

This is lunacy!

She conspires with him!

Such tragedy... lands on my name this day.

My dearest friend, a life snuffed... not in a fitting battle... but by the ambush of painted dogs.

And my kin.

Caught between two tales.

I speak only truth, dear brother.

I have nothing to gain from such a lie.

These men are the bandits we pursued.

Did battle in the fields beyond the eye.

I myself and other honored knights heard you tell how you were dispatched before any such fray.


I did, but...

Wilkin: - You may have nothing to gain, but you've much to hide.

We saw this man at the fray.

He tucked tail and slithered away, letting his brothers fall to the curs.

That's why he lies.

'Cause we know the truth.


I tell you, these are the...

Corbett: - Enough!

So, then, Reeve... you are either a false accuser or you deserted your commander in battle!

Both come with a punishment of death!

(whispering): Please...

Milus... brother... do not do this.

Take him!

Brother, we are blood.

Do not betray me. Damn you!

Damn your half-hatred!

Damn y...



(Randulf yells)

I'm gonna speak to the King!

Curse you!

I'll curse you from hell!

(Randulf sobbing)

My shame is only outdone by my sadness.

My deepest sympathies, Baroness.

I am in your service, whatever the need.

Thank you, Milus.

I will do haste with manor law and trial.

It is fitting... that the man falsely accused be the one who is skilled to take his head.

Welcome to Castle Ventris, executioner.


The priest, he said I could come for evening prayer.

Please, sit.

I welcome the chapel's use.

Few spend time here but me.

Do you mind?


I wouldn't think one of your trade would complicate things with prayer.

Perhaps it takes you in deeper.

May I ask how this happened?

It was given to me by a healer.

A holy woman.

A reminder of my need for faith.

Your soldier gave the impression it distinguished you for some time.

Yet, the burn looks fresh.

I renew the vow when my faith wavers.

You're bleeding.


An angry branch on last night's ride.

May I?

Wilkin: In here, milady?

Lady Love: No better one to heal you than Him.

The physicker should look at this.

(baby crying)

I'll find the physicker.

No. Stay.

Finish your devotion.

I'll have him find you.


I sent an emissary to London and one to Erik's brother in Coventry.

I'm sure our king will offer comfort and guidance of how we proceed to govern.

We proceed by burying my husband.


Of course.

Another thought, my lady.

This executioner-- his arrival, although it brought sadness-- it could turn to good fortune.

How so?

If we secure him and his soldier, we gain skilled men to hunt offenders and carry out the correction.

Sends a sound message.

Ventrishire will not suffer lawlessness.

That's well advised, dear Chamberlain.

Good. I'll draft the letters that bind them.

I have news, Maddox.

The trial was swift, the guilt clear.

We will stage the execution in the village square midday tomorrow.

He's your blood.

There must be some... due leniency, a brother's mercy?

You rid me of a mistake influenced by familial guilt.

No kin, no worries.

But of course, you wouldn't understand that.

Being a family man.

And you're the final word of justice here?

As well as chancellor and advisor.

You'll find that nothing passes through this shire without me touching it.

I'm afraid that's a lesson I'll have to miss.

I move on after tomorrow.

Ah, but that's my news.

You and your soldier will stay on.

Your position is now standing.

We're journeyman.


Now, you have a home.

I'm sure that will be a comfort to your wife and wee things.

(breathing loudly)

Why are you doing this?

Our buried truths bind us.

And your skills will serve me.

I need a man with the heart of a dragon.


(soft gasp)

Annora: Ludwig?

(shallow breathing)

We need to ready our faith.

(shakily): Ja, meine Liebe. (breathing shakily) Ego auctoritate ipsius te absolvo ab omni vinculo excommunicationis et interdicti... (boys singing chant in Latin) ...in quantum possum et tu indiges.


Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.

(Randulf groaning)

(singing chant continues)

Blades have been grinded, sir.

(groans softly)

(groans softly)

(singing chant continues)

(whispering, laughing)

(inhales deeply)

(exhales deeply)

(quietly): Help me.

(crowd murmuring)


You'll need this, headsman.

Little Rand was full of shit.


A stuffed clown.


You best take another.

Yeah. His ass will spout like a fountain.


Who did you spring from?



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