A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES
A dozen gold bars worth 300,000 florins.
Our reserve till is gone, Baru.
Rademaeckers isn't talking,
but our poulterer will soon loosen his tongue.
You gutless bastard. Goddammit.
It says here you murdered Emiel Embo.
You don't know what happened there.
I've been asked to look for a certain Héloïse Embo.
If you find her within two days,
I'll make you boss of the Velvet Monkey for good.
Look here, the new boss of the Velvet Monkey.
-What's your diagnosis? -She's possessed by the Devil.
-Is that necessary? -Deep cleansing is Héloïse's only hope.
She doesn't want to see her brother's murderer.
-I want to kill him myself. -Tincke.
I'll bring his head to the farm, in a sack.
Spaniard, blow that bastard away.
Ten percent and you walk out alive. Take it or leave it.
Didn't you say you were on Jan De Lichte's trail?
I want something in exchange. A wig.
Isabel Mestdagh.
-Do you care nothing for them? -No.
When I arrest Jan De Lichte,
Coffijn will sign her release and I'll be promoted.
-I want to know where he spends the night. -The gypsy camp. All night.
Emiel?
We attack tonight and torch the whole thing.
Tents, carts, animals, everything.
Where will that get us?
Jan's been betrayed. Do we just let it go?
The gypsies are on our side.
Shoe, where did they grab Jan?
The fucking Gypsies. Do I have to draw a picture?
Come. Who's with me?
Who knew where Jan was?
-The Gypsies. -You.
-And... -Who?
Tincke didn't betray Jan, Meyvis.
No, not Tincke.
But...
What are you saying?
-Tincke... -No, come on, say it.
Your girlfriend.
Or is it coincidence that she's gone?
You've got a nerve. Anne-Marie has nothing to do with this.
So where is she?
Upstairs, in my bed.
Go fetch her then.
Look at the pair of you.
We have to pull together. Have we learned nothing from Jan?
Listen, you three.
I'm going for those darky monkeys tomorrow.
Anyone who wants to, can come. Any others, I never want to see again.
Now everyone out.
Get out. This is my place.
I waited, as you asked.
Jan De Lichte, the bane of Baru's life.
Murderer, deserter,
gang leader of the bastards who attacked the stagecoach,
instigator of the evil that comes from the woods.
When I see you hanging here, it all seems an exaggeration.
And should that be so, we wouldn't care, would we Benoît?
No.
Baru is so ambitious, he attributes all those qualities to you.
-For his own honour and glory. -And for his wig.
And for his wig. Quite so, Benoît.
But for me, Jan De Lichte, this is about hindering work on the road,
stirring up good, hardworking outlaws.
That is why your broken body will hang.
No one touches my road.
You're too late.
Iron Simon is dead...
and the new company boss doesn't give a damn about your road.
So, me being dead or alive will change nothing.
So hang me. Ten times over, if need be.
Poulterer, get started.
You must sort this out.
-But Mayor... -I can't do everything myself.
Sir Baru, welcome.
-May I be of service? -We won't stay long.
Magda, before I forget,
have you thought about a suitable chaperone?
Yes, for your... What are they again?
-My nieces. -Yes.
They're coming from Ghent.
My brother is seriously ill. I'll be taking care of his daughters.
But I don't want people to get the wrong idea.
I'll find someone for you, Mr. Baru.
Mr. Simon.
You got here quick.
We've come to offer our condolences. Our collaboration with Iron was--
I'm glad he's dead.
If you say so.
The mayor also sends his condolences.
-And he counts on you to... -The mayor?
You don't give a damn about Iron. You're just worried about your road.
A token of our respect and trust.
That road is indeed important. For all of us.
You'll be interested to hear we have arrested Jan De Lichte.
The mayor expects his execution will silence the outlaws
and the works will no longer be disturbed.
You're in luck.
I had a deal with someone else, but it's yours again.
Same conditions as with Iron Simon?
If it was good enough for him, it's good enough for Cross-Eyes.
Now get out.
Tincke. Cross-Eyes is here.
I don't think so, man. A deal is a deal.
Put that away. Or you'll never shoot again.
Jan being in jail doesn't mean this place is yours again.
You're too touchy, Tincke.
I'll stick to our deal. It's all yours.
Put it away.
Do you take these guys everywhere?
You should smoke less of that shit.
It's a shame that Jan's in jail, just when things were going well.
But I can't help you with that. Conflict of interests, you know.
-And the outlaws? -Back to work. I have expenses.
Once a bastard, always a bastard, huh?
A bastard you have to work with.
You have a little time before they string him up.
You're the top dog now. Prove it.
Dear Bailiff, Jean-Philippe Baru.
It is our honor today, to welcome you as new member of the town council.
As town councillor, you have the privilege of wearing a wig.
Approach.
-Congratulations, Philippe. -Thank you.
Mayor, Honorable Gentlemen, I thank you for your recognition.
I will not disappoint you.
I feel that I have reached my destination. Thank you.
Dear friends, let us raise a glass to the man of the moment,
the hero of the moment.
He has guaranteed the progress of the city.
I thank you. Cheers.
Splendid. Take a glass.
Do you like your new home?
I hope the decor is to your liking
because your predecessor, Rademaeckers, spent a fortune on it.
I like the patrician house fine. But the paintings, not so much.
Stick them in the cellar, or burn them. I don't care.
They say varnish burns well.
Has Jan De Lichte confessed yet?
What's to confess, Baru? He's a wanted murderer.
Now, he's apparently killed Mr. Simon.
The Poulterer will work on him until they rope him up.
I'm worried. They won't just sit and watch.
They'll organize and new figureheads will emerge.
Things will go back to normal in the woods.
The wolves will eat each other
and the outlaws will work on my great road.
And if a new figurehead should emerge...
I'll count on you.
You've got your wig.
Benoît.
You were way off with your prediction.
"A good and prosperous year".
It's not true, Wisdom.
Prosperous my ass.
You're all right.
I lied.
But if I told you what I really saw, you'd go white as sheets.
Try us.
Apocalypse, betrayal.
If what I saw is true, they're not done with us yet.
There'll be no peace until we're six feet under.
And I'll be first.
We can only hope it was all bullshit.
Well?
Feeling miserable?
What shall we do?
Drown our sorrows and blub in the corner?
Got a better idea, Tincke?
Yeah. And a plan.
You'll find no one here to beat up those gypsies.
We'll do that later. First we save Jan.
You've had too much of your white poison, Tincke.
If we want to see Jan again, alive and well,
we have one chance.
That's tomorrow, on the scaffold. We'll cut him down.
The City Watch will be there.
They'll see us coming at the city gates. A bunch of armed outlaws.
I said I had a plan.
Come on.
What a beautiful couple.
The pride of the parish, are they not, Reverend Pycke?
It's a day the city will not lightly forget.
Love has again triumphed over death.
One day, a sinner dies on the scaffold,
and the next, hope is born in the house of God.
Who is to be executed?
-No one you know, Héloïse. -I'd have sworn that you...
I didn't want to burden you. You have so much on your mind already.
Who will be executed?
Jan De Lichte.
-I didn't want to... -He deserves it.
Excuse me, Sir Baru.
-Sir Van de Woestyne. -Send him in.
Sir Baru.
Van de Woestyne, director of the Stella Maris orphanage.
-Do you remember me? -How could I forget you?
It seems like no time since you arrived spic and span from Ghent.
I still am spic and span, Van de Woestyne.
I'm not.
This city clings to my skin like a filthy rag.
-Get to the point. -Of course.
Isabel.
She's been thoroughly washed
and I've been told she's free of scabies and other vermin
that sometimes pester our orphans.
A fine, healthy bloom.
You may leave.
Your sister's upstairs. She'll want to see you.
Izzy. Izzy, love.
I'll never leave you again.
Thank you, Mr. Baru.
Goddammit.
Are you afraid, cowards?
Witch.
-Right on her evil eye. -You're nothing without Jan.
Mr. Baru?
This is Mrs. Van Roy, for your nieces.
One of the best educators in the city.
Splendid. Can you move in here?
As you wish, sir.
The second floor is for you and the young ladies.
You will dress them and teach them.
They are behind with their education.
Ensure they want for nothing.
If the young ladies wish to go outside,
you will always accompany them, as their chaperone.
-Naturally, sir. -Thank you.
I'll go and see the girls. What are their names?
Isabel is the youngest and...
Anne-Marie.
Yes.
Anne-Marie?
Like your contact in the woods?
You're doing a good deed, sir.
What happened in the past, is of no importance.
As for clothes, I have brought two dresses.
I fear the sizes aren't right.
They'll need altering, but Mrs. Van Roy can do that.
-What would I do without you, Magda? -May I?
I'll have it steamed tomorrow.
We can go in, but only to deliver those barrels.
But any outlaw wandering the city after sunset
will be hung, along with Jan.
-Bastards. -Come on.
I'd let him rest an hour. Or he'll not last until tomorrow.
Bring him down.
Fetch clean water and something to eat.
I'm Jean-Philippe Baru, the bailiff.
What have you done with the gold?
-The gold from the stagecoach. -I don't have it.
The money was shared out.
So I heard. That you are generous.
You feel for the poor in the woods.
You had the nerve to stop work on the road.
You may be surprised, but I understand what you want.
But your methods are unacceptable.
Change is slow and comes from the inside.
As long as the mayor is in power, nothing will change.
At the end of the day, you're still a murderer.
You will be tried for the murder of Emiel Embo.
His family will get the peace of mind you so brutally took from them.
I will ask for the torture to be stopped. But Mayor Coffijn will decide.
Do you do everything Coffijn asks?
Congratulations for the wig.
You earned it.
Have you figured out how we get away tomorrow?
-It'll be teeming with people. -We'll shoot our way out.
-What if they shut the gates? -Then we'll see.
Tincke, we need help.
We could ask the gypsies.
Do as you see fit.
We need people.
To get out of the city.
-May I take a look, Mr. Baru? -Of course.
-Is something wrong? -No, nothing.
Good night, Mr. Baru, Mrs. Van Roy.
Come, Isabel.
You must feel important, two visits from the mayor in one day.
Did you really think you could turn my city upside down?
Do you think your gang of losers can spoil my party?
Blow everything up and get away with it?
We should hang you here and now.
What shall we do? String him up, here?
-Get the poulterer out of bed. -That's not possible.
-What? -It's not possible, there are...
What? Procedures? Laws?
You know what, Baru? I make the law here.
If I say Jan De Lichte hangs here and now...
that's what we do.
Get the poulterer out of bed.
God, may your eternal mercy fall up on this sinner
and deliver him from his sufferings.
May he find protection in your tender lap.
Though I doubt that.
-We could postpone the hanging-- -Hang him high. So his neck snaps.
I'm doing my best, given the circumstances.
Hang me as high as you like.
Others will rebel.
You cannot stop us. We will only get stronger.
Day after day.
We will trample you. Torch your houses.
Overthrow your injustice.
And knock you off your thrones.
He predicts a revolution. He wants us all in the abyss.
For a thousand years, we have strived for civilization,
for honor, generosity, purity.
Do you truly believe we'd throw that away for your barbarity, your bestiality?
String him up. Show him what we think of his sort.
I curse you all.
You, Coffijn, who make unequal laws.
You, Pycke, who sell them as if they were the word of God.
And you, Baru, who meekly do their bidding.
Hang him.
-Why are the gates shut? -The fair is cancelled.
-So Jan won't hang today? -They hanged him last night.
They say Jan tried to escape, so they hanged him right away.
Open the gates.
Open the fucking gates.
Run.
Vagenende.
Help me.
Not so fast, sweetie. Seduction, that's what I want to see.
Tomorrow, Dean Pycke will announce our betrothal.
I have longed for you since the first day I saw you.
Now's the time to show your goods.
Name your price.
It's no coincidence that you came here today.
This one.
When it bores into your liver like a beetle.
What is this?
It's his punishment for leaving us here to rot.