by Steven Drake
“Traiz Torian Tyreus, Deputy Grand Inquisitor of the Shining Inquisition.” Traiz made no mention of the meeting two days prior. Darien took this as an indication that the Inquisitor had come in secret.
“Very good then,” the Grandmaster spoke again, looking back down at the accused. “Now then, if you are satisfied, what have you to say for yourself? Choose your words most carefully.”
Darien bowed as best he could with both his hands and feet shackled and chained. He took a deep breath. For two days, he had earnestly prepared this speech. “I cannot possibly justify my actions. I certainly acted upon orders from my Master, yet that hardly seems a reasonable excuse. There is no doubt in my mind that I deserve to die. I decided as much six years ago, when I stole the Demon’s Blade from my Master.” A few whispers could be heard passing between the few onlookers. “When I did this, I intended to end his life, and then my own. I should already be dead, but because I failed to kill him, I cursed myself to live on. I cannot now die and rest easy, so long as my task remains unfulfilled. Even now, that is my purpose. I came to this city seeking a weapon that will end the Demon King’s life. If I succeed, then the Demon King and I will die together. If I fail, then I will die in the attempt. This then is my answer. In many respects, I am already dead. Only the nature and timing of my death are in question, and whether or not I am allowed to destroy my enemy first. I ask no pardon or favor, only that I be allowed to repay whatever debt I owe by destroying the very thing that made me what I am, before my final sentence is carried out.”
None in the crowd spoke. The Grandmaster gave no sign whether he had been moved by the speech or not, yet he did not seem overtly hostile. The Inquisitor eyed him quite thoughtfully, but showed neither sympathy nor hostility. The Archmage betrayed a curious and almost inappropriate sympathy, a strange and confusing reaction. The Shield Knight seemed entirely unmoved, as expected.
“You speak grave words,” the Grandmaster replied. “And you show some contrition. Tell me, do you really believe you can kill the Demon King?”
“Not as I am, no, but there is a weapon that may be his undoing. I came to this city because I believed a clue to its whereabouts might be here.”
“Of what weapon do you speak?”
“I speak of the Star Blade, an ancient weapon forged by the elves, and gifted to the race of men in the Demon Wars long ago.”
“I see, short and to the point, as one would expect of a Shade.” The Grandmaster tapped his long, withered fingers on the podium, but showed no sign of approval or disapproval. “Well, I suppose that is all I need to hear. The facts of your crimes stand undisputed, and you do not deny your guilt, therefore there is little more for us to discover. Nonetheless, it is the rule of this tribunal that any member who has additional questions may ask them now. We will begin with the Shield Knights, since Sir Geoffray is so eager to speak.”
Geoffray stood up, his thick shoulders leaning over his podium. Geoffray alone, of the tribunal’s members, was wearing his full armor, and in this setting, he looked formidable indeed. Darien glowered back at him. Geoffray seemed to be the sort of man he disliked instinctively. Proud, vain, judgmental, and self-righteous, the blustering leader of the Shield Knights represented everything the Executioner disliked about the race of men, the unrestrained arrogance, the pretentious assumption of superior morality, the undisguised contempt for any who deviated from their chosen dogma. Geoffray barely concealed his contempt, so Darien, in turn, barely concealed his own. Despite his situation, and the knowledge that it would be better not to antagonize his judges, he instead smiled up defiantly at the Grand Marshal. He simply could not help it, for there was in Darien the Executioner a spirit of defiance that bordered on insanity, and in those few moments when he was confronted by something he truly detested, that spirit showed through. “Darien the Executioner,” Geoffray loudly declared, “though you say you regret your actions, and that you deserve to die, I see no regret in you. I see nothing but a man who does whatever he wishes without regard for his peers. When you became dissatisfied with your master, you abandoned him without a thought. You stand before this tribunal and dangle before us the possibility of destroying an enemy who has lasted for centuries. I think you will say anything to save your own life.”
Geoffray paused for a moment, yet before he could continue, Darien interrupted him. “It was my understanding that there would be some sort of question for me to answer.” The Executioner looked away from the ranting knight towards the Grandmaster, who sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose.
“Sir Geoffray. We all respect your opinion, but we can discuss that later. Have you any actual questions for the prisoner?” The Grandmaster’s voice betrayed a slight but definite frustration with the hot headedness of his colleague.
Geoffray huffed and his face reddened. “You wish to destroy the Demon King, but how do we know that you do not intend simply to take his place once he is gone?”
“If I wanted to rule a kingdom, it would be easy enough to find an ambitious lord that would put his armies at my command. I could build my power slowly, feeding on weaker or more foolish neighbors, unifying the lands west of the Saldean in the same fashion my old master unified the lands of the east. Then we could both sit on our thrones and plot against one another for the rest of this age.” Darien smiled wickedly up at Geoffray, savoring the look of outrage building on the knight’s face. “The fact that I have not done so, several years after leaving his service, should indicate I have no desire to do so. Words are only a façade, thrown up to deceive both friend and enemy, but actions always speak the truth. Judge my intentions by my actions, or not at all.”
Geoffray appeared ready to leap through the bars, but he mastered himself to ask another question. “Very well, Executioner, I will move on. If this Tribunal should allow you to live, and accept your assertion that you are no longer our enemy, but an ally, would you submit to our authority? Would you follow our orders?”
An excellent tactic, Darien thought to himself. He knows I won’t agree. Either he is much shrewder than he appears, or he knows my loyalties lie elsewhere. I wonder how much Rana told him? The Executioner took a solemn tone, and answered. “I regret to say that this is not possible. I did not escape one Master only to bow to another. If my life can only be bought at the price of servitude to you, then I must refuse such a poor exchange.”
“So, then I was right. You shirk all authority, holding yourself unaccountable to anyone but yourself. You show yourself to be lawless and dangerous. You would rather die than serve your fellow man?”
“I would rather die than answer to you,” Darien fired back. “You are one man, and not one whom I regard very highly, based on what I have seen so far. You may kill me, but you will never command me. Perhaps there are others I deem wise enough to follow. I have learned with some difficulty to choose carefully to whom I pledge my allegiance.” Darien took a moment to nod very slightly toward the Grandmaster, hoping to turn the other members against the hostile Geoffray. It appeared to be working. Though the Grandmaster himself did not show any sign, the other tribunal members were showing favorable expressions. Geoffray seemed to realize this as well, because he paused for several seconds, and leaned back, containing his frustration.
“I have then, only one more question for you, prisoner. How did you convince Rana Geruda to serve you? She has told me everything that happened since she left our order over a year ago. She insists that she acts of her own will, but I do not believe this. Among the several crimes you are charged with is the murder of her family and the destruction of her entire kingdom. She hated you so much that she was willing to forsake her oaths of loyalty to us and set out to take your life, yet now she aids you. Tell me what you have done to her.”
“I have done nothing to her,” Darien replied, somewhat confused that he would choose to ask this question, as there was no particular advantage to doing so. If he had cast a spell to control Rana, he certainly wouldn’t admit it here, now, and it was
quite likely none of the other members had much interest in this question. “Why would I bother to manipulate her? She is no one of any particular importance. What would I gain? Besides, we have been separated for two weeks, so when would I have cast any spell like that? Skilled though I am, I cannot dominate an intelligent mind for that long. If you want to know why she changed her mind, ask her.” Geoffray shrunk back behind his podium slightly, an expression of exasperation on his face. It seemed that he had conceded defeat.
The next questions fell to the Golden Magi. The scholarly looking man who had earlier identified himself as Eldrik cleared his throat, then spoke with a high pitched, scratchy voice. “As a member of the Order of the Shade, you must have knowledge of the Demon King’s armies, his servants, his territories, and much of his magic. Would you be willing to share this information?”
“Of course, I would gladly share all I know. I am frankly surprised that no one has interrogated me yet for such information.”
“Very good, very good. Now then, since we have taken possession of the Demon Sword, we have noticed a peculiar phenomenon, a black smoke appears to swirl about the sword within a few inches of the blade. Can you tell us what this means? Are you familiar with it? Is there any danger?”
The same question Traiz asked, Darien thought. They must not realize he already showed me the sword. Perhaps the different divisions don’t share information, or Traiz was acting alone. “I certainly have never seen the Sword manifest anything like that before. I cannot say that it is or is not dangerous, but it would be safer to assume it is, I think.”
“Yes, yes. Understandable. Now then, you claim to have come from the elven city of Kadanar. It may surprise you to learn that this place is known to us. We do not, of course, know its location, but we have had contact with the elves in the past. It is long, however, since we have heard from them, several generations in fact. In these dark times, it is prudent to seek all the allies we can. Would you be willing to help us contact them, and perhaps extend a hand of friendship?”
The unexpectedly specific question took Darien by surprise. How did Eldrik know he had come from Kadanar? He had never said anything about the city to Geoffray or anyone since his arrest. He had certainly never claimed such. They must have interrogated Rana. He was unprepared for this, so he simply evaded the question. “I can certainly convey a message, but I cannot claim to speak for the elves of Kadanar. I would be willing to do what I can, but it will be difficult. The elves have, with good reason, come to fear mankind.”
“Indeed, Indeed. We can only do what we can do. Will you at least speak to the elf who has come to the city? He claims to be a prince of some sort.”
Darien did not react immediately, and paused to allow the shock to pass. Jerris shouldn’t be here. That’s how the Archmage knows about Kadanar. What happened? Did they capture Jerris, or did the fool come after me? He had to be careful with this answer. “Yes, I know of this elf. He journeyed with me from Kadanar, along with one other. When I was captured, I assumed he would return to Kadanar. If you are detaining him, it will be looked upon quite unfavorably by the elves.”
“No, no. Certainly not. He is our honored guest. He was escorted here by one of our lower ranking officers, my granddaughter in fact. He seemed somewhat… inexperienced to be wandering on his own.”
“That’s enough Eldrik,” the Grandmaster interrupted. “We’re supposed to be asking questions, not answering his.”
“Oh, oh yes. Yes of course, your grace. I have no more questions then.”
Finally, they came to Traiz, who cleared his throat and began. “Darien the Executioner. I have just a few questions for you. First, there are a few details about your capture that I would like to clear up. You were journeying with three others, two elves and the former Shield Knight trainee, Rana Geruda. However, only you and Rana were actually arrested, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“It is my understanding that Geoffray attempted to apprehend the others as well. Is that true?”
“It is.”
“Did you explain that these others had nothing to do with you, offering to surrender as long as he let them go?”
“I did.”
“Yet, Geoffray refused these terms, and a confrontation ensued, during which you threatened to use the Demon Sword rather than allow your companions to be wrongfully arrested.”
“Yes.”
“I see, so, Sir Geoffray was willing to risk a violent confrontation, the lives of his own men, and any bystanders who happened to be present, simply to arrest two people whose identities were not even known, without any known criminal charges against them, simply because they were traveling with you?” Traiz was no longer even looking at his target of questioning, instead leering over toward Geoffray, who appeared once again ready to explode.
The Grand Marshal could no longer contain his anger, and lashed out. “I didn’t force a confrontation. They resisted. I had every reason to suspect they were all spies from the Demon King. Traiz you sniveling coward. Too afraid to accuse me directly?”
“Enough Geoffray!” the Grandmaster interrupted. “Traiz is within his rights to ask these questions. Unless you wish to dispute the truth of the prisoner’s answers, be silent.” Geoffray once again backed down, shifting uncomfortably.
“Thank you, your grace.” Traiz bowed dutifully, and returned to his questions. “Did you really intend to use the Demon Sword to protect your companions?”
“It was a tense situation, and I value the lives of my companions above my own, but using the sword would have risked their lives as well. I would not use the sword for that. I would have chosen to fiught Geoffray’s knights without the sword’s power, but I prefer to avoid confrontation if possible. The threat of force is often just as useful as force itself.”
“Hmm. An interesting perspective coming from one trained by the Demon King,” Traiz spoke thoughtfully. “You left his service several years ago. Why not come to us then, to ask for protection? Why spend so many years in hiding?”
An interesting question, and not really related to the others. I wonder what he thinks to learn from this? “I did not learn of the Star Blade until recently. The knowledge of its importance was given to me by the elves of Kadanar. I came here only for that reason. I did not seek protection from you because I doubt your ability to provide such protection. The Demon King has ways of extending his hand outside his own borders.”
“Ways of extending his hand. You mean he can dispatch his spies and assassins even here?” Darien nodded, and Traiz continued, “And do you know the names of any of these spies?”
“Regrettably, no. Their names were kept secret from everyone except the spymaster and the Demon King himself.”
“I see, but you can say for certain, there were spies in this city, in Trinium?” Traiz leaned forward in mock eagerness. So this is what he’s been trying to get at, Darien reasoned. He already knew there were, even before he spoke to me, but he needs me to declare it openly. I suppose this is what he’s really wanting, to extend the inquisition’s authority, and as I have no other allies that I know of at the moment, I’m obliged to help him.
Darien adopted a grave expression, furrowing his brow in as much sincerity as he could muster, attempting to give his interrogator exactly what he wanted. “Certainly, though I don’t know their identities. When I served, he knew where to look for your spies, how your forces were deployed, the names of your commanders, and probably much more that I never realized.” A sound of harsh whispers echoed in the circular room. No doubt they were already whispering each other rumors and their own personal suspicions, accusing anyone with whom they had a personal grudge. Darien thought he caught the hint of a smile curl around the edge of Traiz’s mouth.
“Order. Order.” The Grandmaster raised his hands to silence the crowd and shot Traiz a disapproving look. After a few seconds, the hall became silent again. “Have you any more questions, Sir Traiz?”
“No, your grace.” T
raiz bowed low. “I believe I have learned enough at present. The Inquisition may have more questions later.”
“Then we will retire to debate the matter. Return the prisoner to his cell. We may not reach a decision in this matter for several days.” The Grandmaster then turned directly to Darien again. “Darien the Executioner, make peace with whatever gods you choose to worship, and pray for mercy while you await judgement.”
So, he was led back to the cell, to wonder about their decision. Another man might have been worried for his life, or his fate, but the Executioner had little fear of imprisonment, solitude, or even death. He already was doomed to a grim fate. The Order of the Golden Shield possessed nothing that could threaten him. He remained resolved to find the Star Sword, but he could wait for months, years, if necessary. Only if they ordered his death would he be forced to act quickly. Otherwise, he could be patient, gather information, and form a real plan. Though the task would be much easier if the Golden Shield would simply see reason and cooperate, but Darien had learned not to place much faith in the reasonableness of men.
Chapter 12: The Council
Two weeks had passed since Jerris had arrived in Trinium, and half as long since his confrontation with Ceres. He was still waiting to meet with the Archmage, and he was beginning to worry that he never would. Nielas repeatedly assured him that the meeting would happen, but that the Archmage was busy. As time passed, this explanation grew less and less believable. It didn’t help that Nia had disappeared, replaced with the reticent Nielas. It wasn’t that Jerris disliked Nielas. The Archmage’s attaché dutifully escorted him wherever he wanted, but for obvious reasons, he preferred the young woman’s company.
Jerris grew more frustrated as each day passed. He was in a particularly glum mood, gloomily eating his breakfast, when his luck finally changed. It was an ordinary morning but for the fact that Nielas had disappeared somewhere. Jerris finished his meal quickly, hoping he could leave the inn quickly before his chaperone arrived. He was just getting up to leave when the pretty face he had missed appeared in the doorway, though she appeared to be nervous about something as she walked over to the table.
