01x04 - A Hunger - Newyn

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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01x04 - A Hunger - Newyn

Post by bunniefuu »

Love: Previously on The Bastard Executioner...

Leon Tell. He torments me.

Petra's cross hung about his noble neck.


Every glint of that sapphire mocks my hesitation to plunge a blade into his heart!

Toran: As I want to plunge a blade into the man who slaughtered my wife and son.

The Reeve must stay alive until we all have our truth.

Baroness, at this very moment, our king is deciding the fate of Ventrishire.

I travel to Windsor in two weeks' time.

Summoned by His Majesty to receive guidance on how we govern.

Why are you doing this?

Our buried truths bind us.

And your skills will serve me.

(shouting, grunting)

Wilkin: Our deep secret can cut both ways.

Corbett: I could lose my position.

And you, your soldier, your new wife and children-- all of you will most certainly lose your heads.

I would venture to say you are more skilled than my most honored knights.

You are a mystery to me, Master Gawain.

As I am to myself, my lady.

(Jessamy moans)




Oh, God...


(Pippa fusses)

(cooing gently)


I'm here, little one.

(Jessamy mutters breathily)

(men conversing indistinctly)

Man: My lady.

(horse splutters)

So this is what you do when I sleep.

My lady.

You should be resting.

That's a bit rougher than you're used to, Love.

After six days of riding, dear Isabel, I feel a bit rough.

(stifled cough)

Man (in distance): There!

Come on! (quietly): This way!




This way, master.

This way.






Oh! Oh! Oh...!

The Rosula holds no god.

And the Seraphim hold too many.

Please... protect him.

♪ 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? ♪

Why do you still love me?

I promised I would always protect you and I could not.

Love that is true... holds no condition.

It changes shape, filling the cracks in our heart to stop it from breaking.

Our love will exist always, through any trial of time or circumstance.


I feel that.

And I am afraid I will never find that love again.

You already have.

I didn't mean to stir you affright, my love.

Do not my kisses give comfort?

The boy is fetching water and the baby sleeps after a good suckling.


This is not natural.

A husband and wife need to be close.

God has put me in this place.

With you.

I will learn to be close.


Have you not loved me always?

(door bangs open, Pippa begins crying)


Sorry, Mother.

It's all right, lad.

Hey! Hey!

Hup! Hup!

(rooster crowing)

Another morning venture?

Just tending to the tasks of our trade, chamberlain.

And what task calls you to the Far Caverns nearly every new day?

You've had spies on our trail?


Just... curious observers.

Leon: Chamberlain...

Man: Open the gate!

...our honored guests have arrived.

Who is this puffed-up crag?

Wilkin: Don't know.

It's Baron Pryce, Maddy.

You did service in Pryceshire, but last month.

They gave you no fair wage.

We left in haste for this shire.

If we left in haste, perhaps an apology is due to those we served.

Well advised, Marshal.

Any of Pryce's nobles on this ride we may have encountered before, good wife?

I believe only the chamberlain-- he was there when you were unjustly paid.

Welcome to Castle Ventris, good Baron.

You are an honored and welcomed guest.

Do not waste your honey on me, Corbett.

Where's the baroness?

Regretfully on her way to Windsor.

The king demanded an audience.

What? She's not here? She's the one who pleaded for this visit.

Baron Pryce has traveled two long days on the back of a hard steed, leaving the side of his ailing wife.

Lady Love is deeply contrite but, as you know, when His Majesty calls, all... must answer. She left but yesterday.

Then why did you not dispatch a messenger?

Simple arithmetic, Sir Dyer.

A messenger sent yesterday would have met you beyond the midway of our shires. I thought it most wise to have you complete your journey.

Allow your caravan to rest.

If you were indeed, most wise, Sir Corbett, your baron would be here in flesh, and not but a stone effigy at your bridge.

It seems we have little choice but to stay the night.

The baroness left nearly a week ago.

An observation which serves no purpose.

We need to make a full day of our ride to the Sea Caves.

We cannot risk this noble finding another face on Maddox.

What of Corbett and his observers?

There will be no journey today, Maddox.

Our chamberlain has planned a tournament for the nobles of Pryceshire.

He wants his able punisher in the fray.

You as well, Marshal.

(doors creak open)

Man: Welcome!

(man laughs)


Is this...

Lady Love Ventris?

Huh? If so, then God truly is a gifted gardener, for he has planted the finest flower of Wales at Windsor Castle today.

Lady Love: Thank you, sir.

I am Lady Love Ventris.

And by your charm and pleasant visage, I must assume you are the honored Earl of Cornwall.

My manners.

Forgive me, but it seems your radiant beauty has robbed me of courtly reason.

Piers Gaveston.

Trusted advisor to His Majesty, King Edward the Second.

Thank you, Sir Gaveston.

Your flattery puts me at ease.

But I do hope your reason returns.

We have so much more than beauty to discuss.

Indeed, Baroness.

The king has requested that you join him for his midday meal.

He is most eager to discuss the future of Ventrishire.

How soon can you be... presentable?

We have had a very long journey.

Perhaps some time to refresh.

Of course.

Servants will show you to your quarters.

I will see to fitting you with a proper gown.

I serve at the king's pleasure.

(quietly): "Presentable"?

You wear your finest, my lady. That man shows you no--

That man is the voice in the king's ear, with influence to sway Edward in the direction that he chooses.

Come... let us see if we might transform me into something more... presentable.

What is it?

I do not think Wilkin will make the ride today.

It is best you leave here.

Make camp along the coast.

Calo: Why?

What fate lands here?


Trust my warning.

I never seen her like that before.

What will happen, healer?

I do not know.

I sense trouble.

This sense, do you see things that might happen?

I feel them.

Through the people they touch.

Berber: Where is your mate?

Annora: He's in the Western Coves.

He gathers red coral for my cures.

You are frightened.


But more for others than for myself.

If Wilkin doesn't come, the burden of your safety falls to his friends.

That is as kind as it is unwise.

Berber: Perhaps.

But that is how it will be.

Thank you, good Moor.


If you'd told me, when I was a girl, that one day I would be a guest of the king, my heart would have been bursting with joy.

It is thrilling.

It should be.

But I feel no thrill, just dread.

So much depends upon the outcome of this meet.

Perhaps it was unwise to not bring counsel.

Do you remember the Boar of Black Oak?

Lord Cradoc's son, Morgan.

Yes, a portly, harsh-looking boy.

Tiny eyes.

Who did not look favorably upon the daughter of a Welsh lord befriending the daughter of a house servant.

No, he did not.

There was a day Morgan decided to show me my proper place.


We were playing, and he chased you into the s*ab, pinned you to the ground.

He was chastising you.

And as he raised a hand to strike me, suddenly he yelped like a dog, then fell to the dirt.

And there you were, shovel in hand, the lioness of Wales.

Afraid of no one.

Secure of heart.

I'm afraid there is no comparing the boars of our childhood with the royal beasts we presently face.

You'll handle this situation as you do all others.

With grace and strength.

Whatever happened to Morgan the Boar?

Very sad.

While traveling home one night, he was devoured by wolves, who mistook him for a fat, two-legged hog.

That is horrible.

And a story you just invented.


Pardon, Chamberlain.

A report somewhat disturbing, I'm afraid.

What now?

Foot soldiers discovered a body along the south court trail this morning.

Limbs severed, body carved with devil symbols.

A sacrifice of some kind.


I've seen the remains.

It was m*rder.

By a hideous hand.

Be certain that your men say nothing of this crime.

I do not want Baron Pryce thinking that Satan dances at our gate.

Shouldn't you be preparing for the contest, Maddox, impressing Pryceshire with your earthy swagger?

That would be unwise. For Maddox.

My beloved wife has reminded me that I was in Pryceshire before coming here.

In service to their chamberlain.

(wry chuckle)



Anyone else who would have known the face of Maddox?

Not in this caravan.


Do not concern yourself with Sir Dyer.

He plants himself so deeply inside his baron's ass, he has no vision beyond those bony cheeks.

And if he realizes I'm not Gawain Maddox?

The Pryceshire chamberlain will not disrupt your happy, new life.

You have my word.

As much comfort as your word gives me, Chamberlain, do not forget, you've as much delusion as I do.

(man screaming)

(groaning in agony)

There is no need for all this suffering, Tobias.

We only want to find the other Seraphim, so that we may help translate the sacred text you all wear.

There's nothing more you can take from me...


I have no more.

(knocking on door)

Robinus: - Attendez.

You've been summoned above, master.

A demand for more meaningless counsel, I am sure.

Thank you, Sir Cormac.

Has this one come forth with anything?

He has not.

Continue the work, my son.

Yes, master.

Take the eye.


(screaming continues in distance)

Gaveston: Ah, you have a gift of divine timing, good Father.

His Majesty requests counsel.

I am here.

At the king's beckoning.

As I am yours.

Ah, Lady Ventris.

May I introduce His Holiness, the Archdeacon of Windsor.

The Baroness from Wales.

My deepest condolences, my child.

Thank you, Archdeacon.

It is an honor to meet a man of such holy prestige.

I am but a humble cleric, my lady.

Serving God is my only prestige.

Take the baroness and her maiden to the king's day chamber.

You may wait there for His Majesty.

May I ask a question, Sir Gaveston?

Oh, no.

Do not worry, Baroness.

The dress looks vely.

The king will be pleased.

He loves golden things.

Find me a shovel.

Is this why the baroness needed to meet?

To have me review her ledgers?

Of course not.

But I thought your time here might be put to good purpose.

Allow you to gain knowledge of our shire.

It does not take much knowledge to see that Ventrishire has more debt than it does resources.

Only if one looks at the present limitations.

With men and resources, we could clear the rugged beach and build a port. that allows larger seafaring vessels.

It would make Ventrishire the center of all imports and exports west of the marsh.

The shire would earn a tariff on all goods coming and going.

That is a decision for the king.


But I know, dear Baron, that before Longshanks divided Pryceshire and gave this coastal half to his favorite constable, that you, indeed, had similar plans for such a port.

Is there a reason why you torment me will this ill-fated history?

Even if His Majesty allows the baroness to remain in power, we do not have the resources to build anything.

You, however, have wealth to spare.

After all these years of abusive taxation from your now deceased baron, why should I lend the shire even half a shilling?

Oh, there would be no lending, sir.

Because the shire would be yours.

Lady Love is a widow... and her rule is in the hands of a frivolous king.

There are only two things that would trump such a decision-- an heir of Ventris...

Or marriage to an appointed noble.

You are quite aware that I'm already married.


And forgive my boldness, Baron, but I am told that the Lady Trula's consumption grows beyond the prospect of a return to wellness.

You are indeed bold, Chamberlain.

Yes, eh, I'm sorry, Baron.

I mean no disrespect.

Sometimes my love of a brighter future clouds my reason.

I am, I confess, a bit of a dreamer.

In this dream, I presume you would be my chamberlain.

I believe that would serve you best.

And your baroness-- is she open to such an arrangement?

Lady Love would do anything to hold on to her beloved land.

Although your good looks and charms would be enough to sway any woman.

You've given this much thought, Corbett.

Perhaps too much.

Well, give thought to this.

I foresee two obstacles.

My chamberlain, Sir Dyer, his family has influence with the king.

Losing his position would wound his pride and prestige.


And the other?

The other?

The other is God's will.

He may well see fit to return my wife to good health.

Of course. One could only hope.

I will give both deep thought.

We've been here nearly two hours, my lady.

You must be starving.

I'm fine.

A well awr never eats before the king.

Well, the king may have to step over our ghostly bodies, for we will surely faint with hunger.

Perhaps just a plum or a crust...

Sit down, maiden.

I don't like the French.

The French will survive without your support.

Book of Exodus.

One of my favorites.

I like Bible stories.

Can you read any of it?

No, sir.

I'm too dull-minded.

Who told you that?

My father.

I'm-I'm sorry.

It's all right to speak the truth.

But my mother...

Is afraid.


Your father... he hurt you and your mother, didn't he?

When we deserved it.

No innocent deserves to be hurt, Luca.

And you're not dull of mind.

You're one of the brightest boys I've met.

I have a deal to offer.

I'll teach you how to read if you help me with your mother's worry.

May I still call you father?

Of course.

Moor! Moor!

It's Calo.

Where is he going?

He wouldn't say.


I'm taking the healer's warning.

I promised her we would stay.

We've been here for nearly two months, and we are no closer to avenging our families.

It's time to go.

Ash: Go where?

It doesn't matter.

Waiting here will bring a worse fate.

What would your brother do?

Aron would stay.

Aron is d*ad.

Because of me.

That is not true.

Then you should go.

What of Wilk and Toran?

They won't protest.

They understand the plight of boys.

I am not a boy.

Boys run from the things they are afraid of.

And you're not afraid, Moor?

All the time.

But I look at my fear... and I pray to find some small piece of bravery to face it.

Travel safe, my friend.

(groaning, gasping)

(yells, panting)
(door opening)

He gives nothing. It's the same as the other three, master.

And the scroll he was carrying?

Well, the text is of similar Aramaic origin, but the symbols that alter it-- they're different from the other three.

So that nothing learnt from one can be used to decipher another.

Yes. The code is well-conceived.

(Tobias whimpers and groans)

This was some kind of message.

A warning, perhaps, to another Seraphim.

We found Tobias at the port, near western-bound vessels.

They wend the river and channel to the Irish Sea.

Go to the king's map room.

Consider what we have learnt, and make sound judgment of where he was to journey.

Yes, master.

And what of Tobias?

The fate of the others.

Fin de l'hérésie.


(yells, groans)

(sword whacks, Tobias screams)

(sword whacks, Tobias screams)

(Tobias screams, sobs)

(footsteps approaching)

I beg your pardon... but my lady wants to be certain that she is waiting in the right chamber to meet the king.

Lady Love: Unlike my maiden, the king's servants know not to speak of things beyond their status.

I am sorry, Baroness.

I am so lost here.

I don't know how to help.

Oh, bollocks.

My lady.

I'm sure our generous king will not mind sharing a few scraps with his misbegotten Welsh children.

Stop smiling.

(bl*ws thudding, groaning, laughter)

(minstrels play lilting music)

(fighters groaning, men cheering)

(cheering and laughter)

(spectators murmur and groan)

(men shout indistinctly)

(laughter and jeering)

(low, indistinct conversation)

(fighters grunt and groan, men cheer)

(applause and cheering)

Man: What a match! What a match!

(men laughing in distance)

A warrior's dressing hangs well on you, Maddox.

It's as if you were born to wear it.

Wilkin: We both may be wearing rags of the condemned by sunup.

Do not concern yourself.

I promise you no utterance of a false punisher will ever reach the ears of law.

(men cheer in distance)

(men laughing in distance)

Man: Did it again!

(no voice)


(men laughing)

(men laughing)

(indistinct chatter in distance)

(men groan and laugh)

(cheering, applause, indistinct shouting)


Back, Marshal!

Go, Marshal!

Man: Go on, Marshal!

Come on!

Go, Marshal!


(indistinct chatter)


(applause and cheering)


(bird squawks in distance)

(hoofbeats approaching)





(horse whinnies)



Over there yet. Over there!

What is is?

You've been placed in custody of the court to determine guilt.

Guilt of what?



(Ash grunts in pain)




Come on!


(distant grunting, shouting)

♪ ♪


(men laughing)


Your men are most handedly schooling mine in the art of warfare.


(men murmuring, chattering)

Once we marry our forces, Baron, we will have the most skilled and feared army in the whole of Wales.

I must confess, an army of might in these times does bring comfort, huh?


You should get comfortable with the prospect of doubling your resources.

(Baron Pryce chuckles)



(men laugh and cheer)


Man: Finish him!

I do not think it wise to let those wench sisters disgrace the Baron.

Corbett: I would be more concerned with the disgrace of your knights, dear Henry.

(men exclaim, applaud)


I see you make brutal sport of the weakness in our ranks.

We gave your men every advantage.

Why, that man over there isn't even a soldier.

We put in but our punisher, Maddox.


Yes. Gawain Maddox.

An executioner.

Came up from the southern lands not that long ago.

(men laughing, chattering)

Well done, Maddox.


(men laughing)

Leon: It seems our man needs a greater challenge.

(men agreeing, applauding)

Man: Okay...

(men cheering)


Man: Now, that's bizarre.

Man: He's back... he's back up.

Man 2: Is that right?


(men laughing, groaning)

Man: What's he on about?


Man: Finish it!

Man 2: Nice.

Man 3: Got it now.

(men exclaiming, groaning)



Man: Come on, do it, Maddox.

Man 2: Just do it!



(minstrels resume playing lilting music)

(scattered applause, men murmuring)

(crickets chirping, f*re crackling)



The king is ready to see you.

Lady Love: See me?

Now, at this hour?


His favorite time of day.

(chuckles softly)

He is in the hunting garden.

Servants will show you when you are dressed.


I do not like the French.

(men laughing heartily)

Can you see it?

Man: Too much wine, you cannot even see it.


(all cheering)

So close!


(men speaking French)

Man: All the way back.

(all cheering)

(cheers, laughter)


(speaking French)

Man: Your Majesty, eh?

Galveston: The Welsh Baroness.



Ah. Yes.

Come, my dear.

Your Majesty.

An honor to finally meet you.

Edward: Yes, yes. Uh...

I offer our sadness and, uh, deep sympathy on the baron's passing.

Thank you, sire.

Your gifts of condolence were quite generous.

Yes. Good.


You are but a...

petite scarabée d'or.



A little golden beetle.


Man: Your pull, Majesty.

Uh, yes. Oh.

So lovely to, uh, to meet you.

Your Majesty...

Forgive me taking time away from... uh, sport, but I was summoned to receive counsel on the future of my shire.

Sir Gaveston will have, uh, discussion... uh, approfondie, yes? uh, with my chancellor.

Of course, sire.

We will make the soundest decision.



Allow me to walk you back, Baroness.

Allez. (clicks tongue)

Did you know all along that he would simply hand my fate over to you?

The marsh territories frustrate the king.

His time is best spent on more considerable matters here at home.

Are we but a frustration?

A thing to take time away from games of boys?

My father and his father before him ruled that shire with kindness and grace for over 50 years.

When Longshanks betrayed us, took Wales for his own, I married Erik Ventris with an agreement-- that my family would be allowed safe passage to Scotland, and that the castle I grew up in would be given to an heir.

I am moved by your devotion, dear Love.

But the only agreements that matter... are the ones you make now.

I will let you get back to your more considerable matters, Sir Gaveston.

And this little golden beetle will crawl back to her marshland dung heap.

(door clanks open)

This is not Gawain Maddox.

The punisher with the same name had a similar scar, but he was slighter in stature.

I so appreciate you keeping your suspicions to yourself, Sir Dyer.

Now that all doubt had been lifted, Baron Pryce will be informed.

Have you gone mad?

I promised you he wouldn't utter a word of your secret, and now you will make sure of it.

Make sure of what?

That he never utters.

k*ll him.

I will not.

This is your poison.

No, Brattle, this is our mother's milk.

This is what we are, what we know.

I'm not a man who does this.


Corbett: They have been taken into the custody of manor law, under the suspicion of a brutal satanic m*rder.

They've done no crime.

Everyone you love or care about is either d*ad or within my grasp to make that so.

He is a pompous annoyance.

God will cheer when he drops down to hell.

Give it a natural twist.

Drunk, h*t his head, something simple.

And I will make sure that his death is found to be an unfortunate accident.


(shudders, gasps)

Corbett... and you, you cast your eyes on the words of the Lord.

Your soul is as false as your name.


(Dyer gagging)


(sighs deeply)

(knocking on door)

I see you are prepared for your journey.

I wished to do this over a morning meal, but as you appear to be in haste...

I have taken counsel with the king's chancellor.

He will draft a decree of division.

Ventrishire will be divided into thirds.

Two territories going to the neighboring shires... and the third-- (chuckles) the coastal area with the castle-- will fall to my authority.

And that decision is final?

(wry chuckle) Indeed, Baroness.

It is most final.

Have a safe journey.

And, please, keep the gown as our gift for your loyalty and patience.

I'm afraid the gown will soon be of no use.

Nor will the decree of division.

I am with heir.

Blessed gift from my departed husband.

That was the news I wished to share with the king.

Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Gaveston.

You may send your servants for our things.

Au revoir.

Lady Love (distant): Isabel!

What? Oh, yes.

Au revoir.

Your baroness never requested a visit, did she?

A deception, good Baron, compelled by my divine sense that our shires deserve the fruits of a greater tree.

It seems Sir Dyer's tree bore fruit a bit more deadly.

Corbett: Yes.

A sad and fainthearted way to die.

Fowl bones.

You're an impressive man, Corbett.

And yet my admiration is matched by an equal part of caution.

Embrace the former, good Baron.

You will hear from me soon.

Ash: No!


No, no, please!

Please, no! No!


Get down!

(echoing): Please, no, come back!

(Berber screams in agony)

(groans, gasps)

Soldier: Lock it!

(keys rattling)


I've consulted the maps and tide charts.

One of these ports or shires would've been Seraphim's destination.

♪ ♪
♪ ♪

(no voice)



Why would you do this?

I don't, Maddy.

You do.

As you have always done when we need correction.

(sniffling, crying quietly)

It's all right, son.

I'm here.

(sighs deeply)

I'm here.
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