Crow Tier Lore: Betony Twinflower (Patreon)

Have tea with some of the Twinflowers and hear a little bit about Betony's past.

*Be advised: It is highly recommended to have read Chapter 6 completely before reading this*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's been much too much to digest in the last few days for you.

You were attacked by soldiers sent by a king who happens to, technically, be your grandfather. You struck a man with magic from your own hand, and then, to top it all off, Zahn slammed a heavy secret down on all of you.

Everyone's words and theories skitter around in your head all day, every day. Too many ideas and none of them concrete. But, at least, the dust has finally settled. The soldiers are gone. Those who died during the skirmish were handled by the town guard. Each was given a pyre for their send-off from this world, and the ashes were placed in a wagon set for Tallulah. The people of Stonebrook have treated them with more dignity than they were shown.

You need to get out of the house for a while, so you set out to the Twinflower home in search of Emre. You haven't been able to speak much with him or any of his family, but you know they were all quite shaken.

As you hit the familiar porch and knock on the door, you are greeted with the familiar smells of the Twinflowers. It's medicinal, of course, but there is something homey about it, too. There are layers and layers of herbs, flowers, bitter roots, and oils all seeped into the wood of the building.

The door creeks open, and you are let in by Betony.

"Hello, honey," she says with a smile.

You return a tired smile. "Hi, I just thought I'd come see how you were all doing and check in with Emre."

She nods. "Of course, come to the kitchen, I'm sitting that boy down for some lavender tea. His nerves are shot; I'm sure he'd love to see you. Willow took the littles to her family home for a bit to give Emre a bit of quiet."

You follow her through the old home, passing by what used to be the old back porch, which now houses Oswin. She sits you down at the table and calls for Emre. He plods in from upstairs, looking sullen until he sees you.

"Ravinder!" His face lights up with a smile. "Oh, am I glad to see you."

"Hey there, Emre, I wanted to see how you were doing," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

As he approaches the table, he sighs, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing it gently. "I'm rattled…" He sits – flops – into the chair next to you.

Betony puts the teapot down and passes out cups before pouring each one. Emre grabs honey and places a very generous serving into the cup. You can tell that his mother is resisting the urge to chide him over it.

The scent of lavender is strong all around you now, and it is quite comforting.

"I'm just glad that you're okay…" Emre says, staring into his tea. "Too much has happened this year, there's too much to think about. Oswin told me everything that happened. I'm sorry about your friend, too, by the way. That's a shame…I actually really liked Zahn. I was hoping we could be friends too – we clicked. Now I'm just angry."

You nod along. "And I'm sorry that…that people sent for me scared your family and hurt your mother and brother."

Betony snorts. "Oh sweetie, no one hurt me." She grins into her tea as she takes a sip.

Emre smiles despite himself. "Well, Oswin got hurt."

"He's fine," Betony says, waving her hand. "He's had worse bee stings."

You consider the woman before you, your mind cycling through all that happened. You remember her – clad in an apron and metal pauldrons with a halberd. A halberd. The posturing before the fight slips through your memory. One of the soldiers recognized her, the older general. What did he call her again?

Taking a breath, the question is almost forming on your tongue, but you stop. Should you ask? Does Emre know?

She smirks at you. "Would it make you feel better if I put my spoon away?"

You chuckle, and the tension in your heart snaps. "I suppose so."

Betony takes her spoon out of the apron and tosses it on the table in front of you. It's the same one, after all these years; the handle is worn down, and the wood looks frail.

You gather your courage. "Would you tell me why that kingsman called you a marauder?"

Emre looks up from his tea and at his mother. "Oh, how insulting. That's insufferably rude, Mama; I hope you taught him a lesson."

You recall the magic flying from your hand at him. "Well…I did…technically."

Betony pours another cup of tea and leans back. "It's time I told you both a little more about me. I wasn't always a midwife. I was…well, I was a bit of a hellion."

You purse your lips. "I think I can see it…"

Emre looks at you with his mouth open as if he can't believe you would say such a thing. "No way!"

Betony laughs. "It's okay, dear. Where do you think the twins get it?"

He shrugs. “I thought it was a magic thing.”

She continues. "Well…I told you that I was born in Sahil." Betony looks at you. "It's a city far on the east coast here in Mahdeh. It's huge, rivals Tallulah easily. And with its size comes notable corruption. So, when I was a kid, I saw a lot of horrible things – people doing the worst to each other. The queen there at that time got an awfully large head, which she inherited from her father, who ruled before her, but she took things to a new level."

You sigh. "I'm seeing a bit of a running theme lately with the monarchs."

She nods. "This is why the emperors are placed the way they are. I've often thought that the monarchs should be treated the same way, but those same emperors are meant to keep their monarchs in check. So this queen had her big head and her big ideas. Her father had taxed our city relentlessly, and she nearly doubled that overnight. She had plans to make Sahil the capital of Mahdeh, saying the taxes were for the betterment of the entire province." Betony rolls her eyes. "Everyone knew her game was to put all the monarchs under her thumb to pressure the emperor."

Emre pouts. "That's awful, Ma. Was it scary growing up like that?"

She nods. "It was for a time. My family lived quaint lives. My mother and grandfather were midwives, but at that time I didn't have interest in such things. My grandmother was what we used to call a sell-sword – a mercenary. Now her, I looked up to. I didn't care for the baby nonsense."

"Hey," Emre chides, though he's smiling.

You chuckle as you lean back with your tea in hand.

Betony continues, "I spent a lot of time with her. When my papa died, we got especially close. She taught me how to use a sword and shield, but I just…well, I was kinda bored with it." She laughs. "She gave me a two-handed sword, and it was too slow for me. I switched to polearm after that. Day in and day out, she trained me, told me stories, and half of them I think were made-up – stuff about gods." She goes quiet, and her lip quivers lightly. "They killed her. She was pushing back against the corruption, she got too loud and had too many rallying around her, so the queen made an example of her."

You and Emre share a look, and he reaches out to gently touch his mother's arm.

"I'm okay, baby," she says. "I think I was 16…and even though it made my mama and grandpapa upset, I took on her armor. I already took her name when I was 14…" Her voice breaks. "I will always bear her mantle…she was the foundation of our whole family, and I learned more from her in my first 16 years than I have from anyone ever since. I swear I can remember every single word she ever said." Tears stream down her face.

Then, Emre begins as well, setting down his tea so he can get up and hug his mother. You stay put, letting them take a moment.

Betony pats her son's cheeks and motions for him to sit down.

After taking a few deep breaths, she continues. "Now, I'm going to tell you that the best revenge you can take is to live happily… But I didn't do that."

Emre sighs. "Is this another 'do as I say, not as I do' thing? Because you do that a lot…"

She wrinkles her nose at him. "Hush, that spoon is still in my reach, you know."

You try not to laugh.

"Anyway, I had her armor and her name, and she had a following. I pleaded my case to them and convinced at least half to rally around me instead. I was determined to press on with her work, but quietly at first."

"How?" you ask, leaning forward.

"Well, leveling things out at first. They were robbing us all blind. Folks couldn't eat. So, we stole it back. We wore masks, disguised our armor, and we started slow and small. Emptying the coffers of this rich person or that. We hit people that were close to the queen, even her family. They were all living fat. Then, we fed everyone with the money and used anything left to build our group up."

"Hm," you muse. "The nickname is more understandable now."

Betony grins widely at you. "Oh yes. See, we were so good at this that we took the show on the road. Queeny was working hard to pressure and manipulate the other monarchs. She sent soldiers and, of course, supplies for those soldiers. So, we took them too. We traveled all over Mahdeh just to make her life miserable. Finally, she became so angry that she dubbed me the Marauder of Mahdeh and painted me as a villain stealing from citizens. She claimed that because I was stealing so much out of greed, she had no choice but to raise taxes again."

You snort. "She just wanted to turn people against you."

She nods. "That's exactly what she was up to. It worked for some, and then when she put a price on my head, it got a little dicey. I had three in my own company that turned on me. The reward was too big not to be tempting. We didn't keep much money for ourselves, just what we needed to eat and keep going. To an extent, I understood it. Still, poor choice considering they knew what I could do." Betony grins in such a way that it sends a shiver down your back.

"So, how did this all end? How did you go from marauder to midwife?" you ask as you pour yourself more tea.

"Well, things were rough. I couldn't go home, it was too dangerous. She didn't know my identity yet either, so my family was safe as long as I wasn't around. Lots of people came for me – bandits, other sell-words, soldiers from various cities. I eventually found myself in a pinch…I got cornered without many of my troupe around to back me up. I was overwhelmed, and some of my men died, and I took a hit – a bad one right to my gut. I barely got away, but I was bleeding badly. I stumbled through this forest, had no idea where I was, bloodied, in my armor, dragging my halberd…"

Emre grips the table as if he doesn't already know the hero of the story makes it out…

Betony grins. "I stumbled on a camp, literally. And I scared the shit out of a young man studying plants in the middle of the woods."

Wiggling in his seat, Emre gets excited. "Oh my goodness, it was Papa, wasn't it!?"

She nods. "Yes…and he patched me up. He saved my life. We had a long time to spend together after that. I wasn't able to travel for a long time, but he cared for me. I never told him who I was, but he figured it out, said the halberd was a dead-giveaway. Of course, he kept it a secret, and he was so enamored with me, it was cute."

You chuckle. "Kavi is so calm, I can't imagine him being giddy."

Betony slaps the table. "He was obsessed with the stories of the marauder. To him, I was some sort of celebrity, almost a myth. I was just a girl swinging a halberd, though. I told him my story, how I wanted to make things right for my city, for the whole province. And he told me his story, how he wanted to help the sick in places that didn't have healers. I think we might have both known it was love then…but we didn't acknowledge it. But, my goodness, it was hard not to. Your father has never had any idea just what those smoldering green eyes do to people…"

You and Emre share a look as his mother falls quiet for a moment, looking wistful.

"So," she says as if just remembering the conversation. "Once I was mended, he wouldn't leave my side. He said me and my team needed a healer, and I couldn't argue."

"How many years did you do this?" you ask. "Were you still young?"

She nods. "I was maybe 19. Too young for that, but someone had to, I think. Kavi is just a couple of years older than me." Betony looks at Emre. "Your father put on a brave face to help, but he left the fighting to me. We kept disrupting supply lines, feeding the people, and more joined us. I don't think we could have done it without help, though."

"You won? Did you stop the queen?" you ask, at the edge of your seat.

Betony grins, looking very proud. "We did. Groups from the north and south came and helped us on behalf of the emperors there. Half of the monarchy here was caught in the queen's games, and even our own emperor seemed unwilling to make a move. It felt helpless at first."

You hear footsteps from the other room and see Kavi poke through into the kitchen with a big, proud smile on his face. He walks over to Betony and bends to kiss her forehead. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was tired of listening from the other room."

She lightly smacks his side. "You could have joined."

"You three were having a moment, and it was nice to hear you talk about it after so many years." Kavi glides the back of his hand against Betony's cheek before he addresses you and Emre. "If it wasn't for her meddling, the emperors in the north and south may not have learned what was going on until much later. If not for our Marauder making waves and disrupting money and supplies, Iroda may have seen its first war in nearly 1000 years. But the queen's tantrum was swept away quickly, and the other provinces did what they're supposed to do to keep the balance. And then she swept me off my feet."

Emre looks like he's about to pop. "Oh, this is much better than how you told me you met before! Mama, why didn't you tell us?"

She rolls her eyes. "Well, for starters, I didn't want my kids getting stupid ideas about leading bandits and rebellions. It was a long time ago, long before you. I put my halberd down after that and went home, but this time with your father. It was hard, love, it was so dangerous. Sure, I felt like I got justice for my grandmother, but my family could have lost me in the process. I had my adventure, and I guess I just wanted…I wanted to make a difference in a different way, so I took on my grandfather's legacy next and became a midwife. Then your father gave me twins."

Your friend nods empathetically. "You were probably kinda busy after that…"

Betony laughs. "Your brother did find out in a way, not all the details, but when he realized the old armor in the shed was mine when you were kids…"

You tilt your head. "Is that why he took up swordsmanship?"

She nods. "He didn't do so well with a polearm, he was like my grandmama… He didn’t resonate so much with healing matters. He tried, but got upset and frustrated with it. He looks so much like his papa, but his heart is a lot like my grandmother’s. I think he was relieved when I said our family wasn’t only healers. Not that he ever needed to carry either family legacy with him, he just wanted to so badly."

You and Emre look at each other, sigh, and nod.

“Sounds like Oswin,” you remark.

Betony leans back in her chair. “So, that’s the tale of the Marauder of Mahdeh.”

You hum in thought. “Considering you were so young and you didn’t keep it up, you fought really well.”

Kavi chuckles. “She’s snuck out to practice since before the twins were born. Once Oswin was old enough, they would spar together.”

She smiles. “I asked him to keep that a secret, though. Partly out of precaution, and also, I didn’t want those short few years to define who I am. I loved doing that and making a difference, but helping parents and little babes is what I want to be known for after I’m gone.” Betony swallows hard. “I love all of my babies.” She reaches over and places a hand over yours. “Both of my loins and of my heart. If I can protect you with that old halberd, I will.”

You smile as you place your other hand on top of hers. “Should I have my papa make you a giant spoon instead?”

Betony bursts out laughing. “Oh, please do!”