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When the boys jumped down from the tree, Coen recognized the apparently lead boy as the one who had gotten into a fight -- a physical fight -- with Aedre. This boy needed some paddling, dearly. Fighting with a girl, and with a real smart mouth on him...
"Do you have respect for anyone, boy?" he asked, almost growling. He preferred disciplining a soldier with his head in the wrong place any day to dealing with a brat...much less three of them. They wanted to watch? Watch smugly while two criminals escaped judgment, responsibility?
Coen knew how these more backwater places could be all too prideful about their communities, but there was something just...off about Scarburg folks, he swore it. All he had seen so far were brash words, mad men, and liars. He had that young man Thornden had a good head on his shoulders, but now he had apparently seen his true colors. He respected the Lady Saeryn but would respect her more if she didn't have so many hounds guarding her apparent interests.
"Fearghall," he called to one of his men. "Take these boys back to the Hall. String 'em up and drag them along behind you if you have to," he remarked. He knew Fearghall had enough sense not to take Coen seriously on his suggestion, even if the Captain was tempted. "This is no spectacle," he grumbled.
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