by James Dale
When he was dry Braedan dressed in the clothes Gain had provided; a pair of white cotton trousers, a rough, gray tunic of wool, and a pair of leather sandals. Their fit was less than perfect and the tunic itched like hell, but at least they were clean. "How do I look?" asked Jack, running fingers through his wet hair. "I won't offend anyone at the palace?"
"Passable," Sir Gain shrugged.
"I thought you'd forgotten about me," Jack said. "When do I get to speak to my lawyer?"
"Lawyer?" Gain asked. "I am unfamiliar with the term."
“Someone to represent me at the trial? Or do you plan on sentencing me without hearing my side of the story?"
"You will be given the chance to explain your actions," the knight replied. "Though I cannot imagine what you might say that will affect the outcome."
"You might be surprised," Jack smiled. "Shall we go?"
"There is time yet," the knight replied. "I would ask you a few questions."
"You're the boss," Jack shrugged, taking a seat on his bunk.
"What did you say to Duke Kiathan when he...mmm...questioned you?" Gain asked. "He returned the following day with a platoon of guards and demanded we turn you over to him. When the knights guarding the gate refused, he left in a fit of rage. I've heard it was an extraordinary sight."
"What can I tell you?" Jack replied. "I guess I just got under his skin."
"It is more than that," knight replied. "I think...I think the duke fears you for some reason."
"Maybe it's because I know he's been executing people in Doridan without the king's knowledge."
"Impossible," said Sir Gain, shaking his head. "No one..."
"Am I the only persons who knows what this son of a bitch is up to?" Jack asked, throwing up his hands in disgust. "Then tell me, where are the crewmen who were captured with me and Tarsus? You said you’d check on them. Where is the old man? Errand, son of Kevin?"
"You and the Amarian were the only two pirates brought to Dorshev," Sir Gain answered, "and the old man was released."
"You saw him set free with your own eyes?"
"No. But Duke Kiathan dropped the charges. We released him that morning to..."
"Kiathan's guards perhaps?"
Sir Gain hesitated before answering. "Yes," he finally admitted quietly.
"What is it with you people?" Braedan asked. "Kiathan's doing whatever he pleases and no one in Dorshev knows it but me? And I’m locked in a bloody tower. I can't believe Anna is going to marry this bastard."
"Annawyn is another matter that…confuses me," Sir Gain said, changing the subject. "She has been acting...unusual since her visit here. Defying the king. Fighting with Kiathan. Horsemaidens are headstrong and independent, but she has never been like…this."
"You heard what we said," Jack replied. "It's because I'm her brother's friend. And for what I did for Thessa."
"She did not send Einnael Edard to visit you because you are Dorad's friend, or because you saved the Countess Arthol," Gain mused. "There is some other reason."
"You're her cousin," Braedan shrugged. "What do you think?"
"It is most puzzling," the knight said, shaking his head. "It almost seems as if she...as if she..."
"As if she what?"
"As if she has developed...feelings for you," he replied, as if not believing the words he spoke.
"Feelings?" Braedan asked. What did he mean by feelings? Pity? Certainly, he did not mean to suggest...affection. Could he? His own thoughts of the princess were...confusing. After she'd left his cell, he tried to deny the emotions she's stirred in him. Kaiddra was barely two months dead after all. Yet since reading her note, he could think of nothing but her hair, her eyes, her touch. Surely, he couldn't be...falling in love with her? Not after being with her for five minutes! Five wonderful minutes. Could he? "Feelings huh?" Jack mused. "That's ...interesting."
"Indeed," Gain nodded, reminding Braedan painfully of his cousin Dorad.
"Will Anna...will the princess be at my trial?"
"I would imagine so," Gain replied.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Jack asked, standing.
"Are you so eager to meet your fate, Jack Braedan?"
"Anna's going to be there," he said, grinning like a fool and holding out his wrists for the chains he knew the knight had brought with him.
Sir Gain looked at him curiously for a moment, then called to the knight waiting in the corridor with the chains. "You have caused the Tower no end of trouble with the Crown, Jack Braedan," he remarked, placing the manacles on his wrists. "I have no loyalty to Kiathan, but we are loyal to the Ivory Throne. I will be relieved to see you gone from here.”
"Me too," Jack grinned. "No disrespect to your kitchen, but you should think about hiring a new baker.”
“Haenen is getting a bit complacent is his old age,” Gain replied with a small smile. “This way, if it pleases you?”
“Like I have a choice?” Braedan laughed.
For the first time in almost a month, Jack left his cell. Two of the Knights of the White Horse fell in beside him and they made their way down the tower. At the next level Tarsus was waiting with two guards of his own. He was dressed exactly the same and also smelled of flowers.
"Tarsus!" Jack smiled. "You're looking well."
"I smell like a girl," the Amarian scowled, then a huge grin split his rugged face. "You look...fit also m'Lord."
"Move along," one of the knights said, interrupting their reunion.
"m'Lord?" Braedan asked as they began making their way down the tower.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking since they locked me in this place," Tarsus answered quietly.
"And?" Jack asked. "What have you decided?"
"Only one man could have come from that temple," the Amarian replied.
"Quiet," one of the knights ordered them. "No talking."
But nothing else needed to be said. By the look in the Amarian’s eyes, he saw that Tarsus had no doubts remaining about who he was, even if he still retained a few himself. The group traversed the remainder of the ground floor in silence. When they exited the tower, they found a horse-drawn prison wagon waiting for them. Simple but functional, with bars of iron, benches on both sides, and great iron rings embedded in the wood flooring for securing prisoners. There was a squad of twelve armored knights, outfitted in shining gold and white plate mounted on majestic stallions waiting for them as well. All of their horses were a gleaming white. They were some of the most beautiful animals Jack had ever laid eyes on.
“So that’s why they are called the knights of the white horse,” he said, turning to Tarsus.
The stallion nearest Jack regarded him curiously with a big brown eye.
“You’re a pretty fella, aren’t you?” Jack smiled. He suddenly felt a…tingling…in his mind. It had been so long since he’d been around an animal of any sort, he’d almost forgotten about the strange gift the witch doctors of the Department of Defense had given him. He…reached out to the stallion with his mind and the horse shook it’s mane in surprise, stomped a fore hoof and whinnied, then nuzzled Jack’s shoulder. The knight seated on the stallion pulled sharply on his reigns and glared at Braedan.
“Get in the cart,” he commanded.
“He was just saying hello,” Jack said to the glaring knight. “No need to be rude.”
“What’s going on here?” asked Sir Gain, appearing around the squad of knights.
“Just admiring your horses,” Jack smiled.
“You are in remarkably good spirits,” Gain observed curiously. “Whatever did Einnael Edard say to you?”
“I’m just glad to be out of that cell, on such a lovely day,” Jack shrugged.
“Yes, well, I suppose it is,” he nodded. “Shall we go?”
“Are we supposed to just…hop in, or what?” asked Jack, showing Sir Gain his chains.
Gain reached up and lowered the gate of the cart, then pulled out a ladder.
“Age before beauty,” Jack said, tu
rning to Tarsus.
The Amarian shrugged, and climbed into the cart. Jack followed him. When they were seated, Sir Gain climbed aboard and locked their leg shackles to an iron ring secured to the floor boarding. When they were secured, the knight climbed down, replaced the ladder and shut the gate.
“The prisoners are ready for transport,” Gain informed the commander of the knights. He saluted Sir Gain with armored fist over his heart and the huge double gates of the Tower of the White Horse swung open with a groan of steel and wood. “I wish you luck Jack Braedan,” Sir Gain called out to him as the cart began to pull away.
Once beyond the walls six of the knights took position in front of the wagon and the remainder fell a few paces behind. Seeing they were paying their shackled prisoners only cursory heed, Braedan leaned over to Tarsus and spoke quietly.
“I had a couple of visitors that first day we were locked up,” Jack informed him. The driver of the cart turned around to look at him, but soon his attention was called back to the road.
"Visitors?" Tarsus asked.
"Kiathan came by for a chat."
"Oh?" the Amarian raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"I don't think he likes me," Jack grinned mischievously.
"What happened?" Tarsus chuckled.
"He asked me a few questions, wasn't very civil about it, and I told him to piss off."
"Did he rough you up?"
"A bit," Jack nodded. "But he's not so tough."
"He's a dangerous man to play games with," Tarsus said, growing serious.
"He's planning to have us crucified."
"Sa'tan's balls!" the Amarian hissed. "What the hell did you say to him?"
"Nothing," Braedan shrugged. "I think that's why he got so mad."
"This is not good."
"Forget Kiathan," Jack said. "It's my other visitor I want to tell you about."
"Someone else came to see you? Who?"
"A certain princess we wanted to talk to."
"Annawyn came to the tower?" Tarsus snorted in disbelief.
"She's a beautiful woman," Jack sighed, closing his eyes he conjured up her imagine in his mind. When he opened them again and found Tarsus staring at him, he turned red with embarrassment.
"Gods," Tarsus muttered sadly, "Even locked up in a tower, pretty maidens fall in your…Wait a minute!" he whispered. "What did you say to her?"
"I was wondering when it would sink into your thick skull," Jack smiled. "She's trying to help us."
"What did you tell her?"
"The truth."
"What! That you're the..."
"No!" Braedan interrupted. He glanced quickly at the driver but the man wasn't paying them any attention. "Not that."
"What then?" Tarsus asked.
"That her brother is missing but may still be alive. She said she would help because of what we did for Thessa and because we are Dorad’s friends. Apparently, the letter Dorad sent her spoke highly of us. And of course, she’s fallen hopelessly in love me," Jack grinned.
"Will she be able to do anything?" Tarsus asked, letting the jibe pass.
"I don't know," Braedan sighed. "She sent the captain of her Horsemaiden’s with a note this morning, but what she had to say was less than reassuring. It seems all she's managed to do so far is piss off her father and learn that Kiathan is a ruthless son of bitch."
"I could have told the lass that," Tarsus muttered.
"We're in a tight spot, aren't we?" Jack asked, looking around at the armored knights surrounding their wagon.
"Yes," the Amarian nodded, testing the chains holding him to the prison cart. "Kiathan is taking pains not to lose his catch, no doubt about that."
With that somber statement, the two fell silent.
The group traveled through the streets of Dorshev at a leisurely pace, traffic on the boulevards parting without protest to let the procession pass. Idle bystanders watched them curiously as they went by, but no large crowds gathered to gawk at the pirates as they had done on their first trip through the capital city of Doridan and they reached the palace grounds without incident.
As they approached the walls the huge gates set in the stone barrier opened without a signal from the knights escorting them and they passed through without being challenged. Once inside, Braedan received a closer view of the enormous citadel he had been studying for the last three weeks from his tower window.
The palace grounds were much like Braedan thought they would be, except that his lofty perch more than two miles away had dwarfed the structure, masking their true size and grandeur. The cobblestone avenue leading to the palace was lined with shade trees of many different types; maple, ash, elm and sycamore and along the lane magnificent marble sculptures and fountains were surrounded by neatly groomed gardens. They passed by a sparkling blue pond and a family of snow-white geese took flight, frightened by the noisy passage of the armored knights. Braedan watched enviously as they soared off into the clear sky, jealous of their freedom.
They soon reached the palace of King Ellgenn Ellgereth, home to the royal family of Doridan for one thousand years. The outer walls surrounding the castle were three stories tall and constructed of colossal granite blocks weighing several tons apiece. As they passed beneath those walls, Braedan noticed twin enormous iron gates recessed into the stone at opposite ends of the tunnel. Each closely spaced bar of the formidable gates was at least as thick as his arm and ended in a wicked, deadly spike. On the other side was the palatial residence of the House of Ellgereth.
King Ellgenn's home rose to a height twice as high as the outer walls surrounding it and covered the entire hill on which its foundation rested. Circling the castle, as if any force succeeded in breeching the walls, was a protective moat twenty yards from bank to bank and deep enough that the bottom was not visible from the stone bridge spanning its width.
Once they had passed over the moat, the knights continued along the cobblestone avenue to the castle at the top of the hill. There the road ended in a circular drive surrounding a pool where water cascaded musically over a tiered fountain in its center. Lining the drive were dozens of gilded carriages, each drawn by teams of powerful geldings and attended by gaily adorned valets. It looked as if every noble and high-ranking official in Dorshev had come to witness sentence being passed on the two notorious pirates.
Standing at the bottom of the steps, leading to the entrance of the palace stood two marble statues, carved in the likeness of rearing stallions. The two guardians of the House of Ellgereth were crafted in such lifelike detail that individual hairs were visible in their manes and braided tails and the muscles of their powerful hind legs seemed to ripple with coiled strength.
It was here the knights stopped and dismounted in unison. One of their number, identical in every to the other eleven, climbed into the wagon and unlocked the chain securing Tarsus and Braedan to the cart's crossbar.
"This way," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. They climbed down from the cart and the squad of knights fell in around them, six on each side. When they mounted the steps and passed between the two stallions, Braedan imagined he could almost feel hot breath issuing from their flaring nostrils and half expected the great beasts to come charging down from their perches to trample him with their stone hooves for daring to enter the palace of their king.
At the top of the stairs they were met by a pair of palace guardsmen standing rigidly at attention. They were dressed in blue and gold, threequarter plate armor and had steel helmets with horse hair fashioned like a tail sprouting from the helmet's crest. Both men were carrying polished shields and armed with long, ceremonial spears. The two guardsmen saluted, opened the doors to the palace, and then stepped aside, letting the knights pass through with their prisoners.
Inside was a large antechamber where another pair of guardsmen waited. These two opened another set of doors and led the knights down a long corridor. Tall marble columns reaching up to a vaulted ceiling high above their heads, lined the walls along their path.
There were archways branching off into other parts of the palace but the two guardsmen led them straight down the corridor, their footsteps ringing loudly off the tiled floor as they made their way down the empty hall. The end of the passageway was marked by another set of double doors, ornately carved and embossed with the royal seal of Doridan.
There the guardsmen stopped. "Wait," one of them instructed, then opened a door and went inside, closing it behind him. He soon returned with another man dressed in stately robs and carrying a tall wooden staff, polished and banded with silver at both ends. He looked to be at least sixty years old, with thinning gray hair and a wrinkled, weather beaten face. His shoulders, however, were broad and he stood straight and erect despite his apparent age. He studied Tarsus and Braedan with intense, hazel eyes, as if trying to uncover any secrets that might lie hidden in their hearts.
When he spoke, it was with a strong voice that left no doubt as to his authority. "I am Dornen Errdan, Lord Minister of the King's Justice. You will not speak unless directly addressed. When you answer, your replies will begin and end with either Your Majesty, Your Grace, or Lord Minister, whichever is appropriate. You will remain standing throughout these proceedings. When they are concluded, if you so desire, you will be given the opportunity to make a brief statement before we pass sentence."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned abruptly and marched back through the double doors. Braedan and Tarsus were quickly ushered behind him into the audience chamber of the king by their escorting knights.
Inside they found a large crowd of over three hundred noblemen and women of Doridan seated on benches. Every head turned as they entered the room and followed them as they made their way to the foot of a raised dais at the far end of the chamber. On the platform were three high backed chairs covered in white velvet. The center most was unmistakably the throne of the king. It was almost twice as large as the other two, carved out of ivory and trimmed in silver and gold, with arm rests fashioned in the likeness of galloping stallions.
