by A J Allen
Byrch pushed open the heavy doors and marched inside.
Lords Dowrick and Fromund stood conversing with Lord Lionsbury. Lady Bellemar sat at the long table speaking with old man Rabek. The Council members turned and stared at Byrch as if they had seen an escaped madman entering their midst.
Mr. Byrch pulled out his ax and stormed up to Dowrick. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t split yer vile head in two right now.”
Lord Dowrick jerked back, sword at the ready and stepped beside Lord Lionsbury. “Are you drunk, man, or possessed? Drop your weapon immediately and step back to the door at once or I’ll have you cast in irons.”
Byrch’s massive chest heaved. He gritted his teeth. “Go on, ye liar. Tell me it wasn’t you. What did they promise you, Dowrick? I wanted to believe a lord on the King's Council couldn’t do such a thing but the more I puzzled it out the more it made sense.” He wiped away fresh tears at the corner of his eye. “Tell me you didn’t do that to the poor lad, Brennus!”
Lord Lionsbury stood between them. “Byrch? Have you gone mad? How dare you raise your weapon against the Council.”
Byrch blinked, trying to staunch the tears in the corner of his eye. “Your Lordship,” he stammered, struggling to hold in unmanly tears. “I am not raising my weapon against the Council, but against a vile specimen of a man who makes it a pastime to murder young boys.
“He did it, your Lordship, he sacrificed Brennus Paliter alive. See for yourself. The poor boy’s body is in the infirmary. Dowrick here is trying to fool us all by butchering him and hanging him in a tree like a runaway slave. That’s how he summoned that demon that killed so many of my brave brothers… and I mean to send him back to where they both came from.”
Mr. Kovoth and three guards rushed into the chamber. Simon and Jack spun on their heels, swords drawn. Rachel aimed an arrow straight at Kovoth’s forehead.
Kovoth licked his greasy lips. “And what are you three going to do? Strike the Council guard? I don’t care if you’re noble or freeman. You’ll all being swinging from the hanging tree before sunrise if you don’t play nicely. Tell them, Byrch, unless you want to watch them hang first, before you get your turn.”
Lord Lionsbury raised his hand. “Oswin, you are one of my oldest and most trusted friends. I will ask you once more. Put down your weapon. I do not know what you have witnessed nor who you think is responsible but this is not the way to uncover the truth.”
Byrch lowered his ax a few inches but did not stand down. “Do it, lass. All of you. Do as his Lordship says. This unholy business is not yours.”
“That is correct, dear Mister Byrch. I have seen the poor boy. It belongs to all.” It was the voice of a frail lady.
The Holy Seer stood at the open door leaning on her cane. She was accompanied by two armed monks, sword in one hand, dagger in the other. “Now, please, Oswin, I know that each of you is suffering unbearably from what has happened but this is not the way to ease your pain or honor the innocent boy’s memory.”
Rachel placed her bow on the table and removed her quiver. Simon and Jack lay their swords down on the floor.
Lord Dowrick calmly folded his hands in front of his robe and bowed to her Holiness. “Holy Seer. As always, you are the one who sees clearly when all around you find themselves blinded by their own ignorance and fear.” He turned to Mr. Byrch. “You seem to be in an unholy state of mind, Mister Byrch. Though her holiness speaks, I assume, of the same boy none present, including myself, are clear as to the nature of your terrible accusations.”
Byrch lowered his gaze and his ax. “Forgive me, Holy Seer, but he knows exactly what I’m accusing him of, the lying, murdering sorcerer.”
Lady Bellemar rose from the table. “Mister Byrch, listen to me. You must calm yourself. Mister Gellworth reported the Paliter boy missing from the foundry two days ago while you were riding back to Farrhaven. He was assumed a runaway and a search party sent but they returned without finding so much as a trace.”
“Then why wasn’t I told when I returned?”
Kovoth raised his brow. “You said yourself, you wanted nothing more to do with it. Didn’t have the stomach anymore for what needs to be done according to the law, isn’t that true? Thankfully, there’s still men serving with honor who won’t shirk their duty.”
“What I saw was not done by any man possessing honor nor excused by any law that I accept.”
“Come, come, Mister Byrch.” Dowrick gestured toward the others. “We’re still waiting for your proof. You would have me put to death for conspiring with so-called demons as the creature that attacked Farrhaven based on what evidence, exactly?”
“You were the only one eager to go hunting this morning even against the advice of Lord Lionsbury and Lady Bellemar. How convenient you lost your way in a forest you know so well.”
Lord Lionsbury’s hand reached for his blade. “And that is the reason you accuse a member of the King's Council of such a heinous act, if in fact, it did occur as you claim?”
Simon stepped between Byrch and Lord Lionsbury. “It’s true, your Lordship. We all saw it. Didn’t we?”
Lord Lionsbury turned to Jack and Rachel. Jack nodded sheepishly in agreement. “Yes, my Lord. The boy had been killed and hung in tree like a runaway slave. If not for that reason, I can’t say, for I know nothing about the ways of summoning demons.”
“And you, Rachel?”
“It’s true, your Lordship. We were all nervous after we met the old man in the forest… and then to come upon something so horrible...” Her voice trailed off to the sound of her sobs.
Lord Dowrick extended a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Who, my dear? Who did you meet in the forest?”
The back of Simon’s neck bristled and his jaw clenched.
“Now, lass, I told you about them.” The lines of anger in his burly face softened. “Everyone here knows Mathurin and his people would never do the terrible thing you saw.” He pointed at Lord Dowrick. “It’s him behind this damnable butchery. Who else could it be?”
Lord Dowrick cocked his head to one side seeming to become more amused with each new accusation. “The Eldorah, you say… pagan spirit worshippers, are they not? How interesting. Though I have yet to see proof of what you claim did you not also consider for a moment that a travelling noble and his entourage may have happened upon the half-starved slave boy cowering in the bushes? The brand is clear on his forearm and this unknown lord would have been fully within his rights.”
Byrch’s enraged face weakened with uncertainty for the first time and he looked away.
“And if you will not accept the most reasonable explanation… how did I steal this boy from the foundry without anyone seeing me do it?”
Byrch lowered his heavy hand. “I don’t know all your tricks, Dowrick, but I’ve heard tell enough to know what I need to. You were hunting something in the woods but it wasn’t running on four legs. We all saw the blood too.”
“I see.” Lord Dowrick paced in front of the Council table. “So, a few drops of blood in the forest are your final proof?” He stepped to the rear Council chamber door and opened it. “You can come in now, Mister Joren.”
Joren escorted the proud-looking Callor into the chamber, while Byrch looked away from Joren’s perplexed face.
Dowrick clasped his hands behind his back. “Now, this is serious, my young lord. Explain to the Holy Seer and the good lords and ladies in this room why our party returned so late to Farrhaven.”
Callor bowed and faced the room. “I asked Lord Dowrick if we could hunt larger game and he agreed. We wounded the wild boar and tracked it. We thought it would be an easy kill but it led us far away from our path.” He clapped his hands.
His smug friends, Elric and Reutiger, entered; they shouldered a boar trussed to a long branch. They lay the dead animal, its tongue lolling out of its bloody mouth, at Lord Dowrick’s feet.
Callor raised his boot atop its blood-soaked head. “It’s my fault we chased it so long and I ignored his Lordship’s
calls to turn back. By the time he caught up with us I had killed my prey with my bare hands, but the way back to Farrhaven proved more difficult than we thought.”
Dowrick turned to Lord Fromund. “And what did you do, my lord?”
“I and the other Tiberion protectors searched for your party but as the storm approached and I was responsible for their safety, decided it best we return to Farrhaven… although in hindsight, we would have been safer in the woods. I had no doubt, though, for even a moment, that all would turn out well since Callor and his protectors were in turn under the expert protection of you, my lord.”
Lord Dowrick glanced down at the boar. “And to be certain there is no doubt, I ask that Lord Rabek enter into the record that I accept full responsibility for allowing Callor Tiberion to hunt and kill this beast; it seemed a task of which, as the possible future King, he has proved himself more than capable.”
“You are too kind, my Lord.” Callor bowed to Lord Dowrick. “I, for one, sincerely apologize for my rash actions and swear never to endanger myself or others under my charge again.” A smile of contempt wound its way around his pale face as he looked at Mr. Byrch. “We must not strive against each other but rather against those that threaten our Kingdom from within.”
Lord Dowrick looked admiringly toward Callor. “Spoken like a true king-in-waiting. Is that not true, Lord Lionsbury?”
His Lordship turned to his bewildered friend. “What say you now, Byrch? Will you accept you have made a grave mistake?”
Byrch let the head of his ax bang down on the stone floor with a clang. He lowered his big, bushy head and closed his eyes. “I dearly wish I could, your Lordship. But alas, the boy is still dead.” He opened his eyes. “And I can’t see the light that will lead me to the truth of it anymore.”
“Then let us hope the morning will allow us all to see more clearly.” Lord Lionsbury motioned to Mr. Joren.
Joren took Byrch’s ax out of his limp hand. “Sorry, mate. We’ll have to puzzle this out later.” He pulled the dirk from Byrch’s waistband. “Tell us where you found the boy and I’ll send men there in the morning, at first light.”
Lord Dowrick folded his hands behind his back. “I will join you, Mister Joren. I would like to see this so-called hanging tree for myself so as to confirm what I know to be already true.”
“My monks will accompany you,” the Holy Seer said. “And I must examine the poor child first before anyone else. We have all witnessed what has been unleashed upon our land but as to who is to blame... I trust that name still remains unspoken.”
She stared at Simon and a sudden cold shiver spread over him as he recalled the monstrous face in the Corridor of Shadows. “You see me now, boy, don’t you? Just like I see you.”
The Holy Seer stepped out of the door, quietly murmuring a final message as she left.
“And now, you must excuse me; my old soul has had quite enough upheaval for one day,” she said, smiling back at Rachel. “There are still old stories to read before one can sit down to write the new... and so little time left for either. Choose well, young protectors of House Evermere, and be sure to hold Mr. Byrch and poor Brennus firmly in your thoughts and prayers.”
Dowrick motioned to Kovoth and the other guards. “Please escort Mister Byrch to the finest cell in our dungeon, as befitting a man of his respected stature and honored service to his Kingdom. I will send a formal request to Avidene so that the King's Council Triumvirate may decide his proper fate in due course.”
“But the full Triumvirate cannot be called,” Lord Lionsbury reminded him. “Until such time as the reports are confirmed.”
“And they will be confirmed by the time the message arrives in Avidene. I have no doubt we shall all have learned the fate of Lord Delcarden by then. At that time, High Priest Worlaw can serve at the Council’s request and the Triumvirate continue in its sworn duties until the King is duly crowned. Is that not the law, my lord?”
“What happened to Lord Delcarden?” Jack asked.
“Silence. The affairs of Council are no concern of yours.” Lord Lionsbury sat back at the table, hands folded in front, head down.
Byrch seemed to collapse onto himself, diminishing in size and strength, a once proud warrior now cowed into submission by the errors of his own judgment.
Simon, Jack and Rachel looked at each other, unsure of what to do next.
“Well, do you want to join him?” Lord Lionsbury pointed at the door. “Return to your quarters at once. I will deal with each of you in the morning.”
A chill draft met them in the corridor but none colder than the bleak despair that rattled Simon to the bone.
His greatest fear had followed him from Grimsby, an evil existing beyond the physical cruelty of men, silent yet always present.
And the evil was biding its time until it could unleash itself upon a blinded world caught so unaware or uncaring of its arrival.
Chapter 13
Speak These Words
At breakfast next morning, rumors were already flying like rotten seeds on a foul wind. Callor and his protectors bragged about hunting the boar and took credit for upholding the honor and reputation of Lord Dowrick while at the same time having Byrch imprisoned as a madman and traitor for threatening the Council.
As part of their punishment, Simon, Jack, and Rachel sat apart at a smaller table and were shunned by the other protectors. They nibbled and picked at their food, none having much of an appetite while they anxiously awaited Lord Lionsbury’s summons to the Council chambers.
Marcus tried to convince Niall it had all been a terrible misunderstanding and Byrch was still a loyal servant of the Crown. He expressed certainty that Byrch would be released soon, but couldn’t mask the doubt in his hesitant, troubled voice.
Only Lady Bellemar and Lord Rabek were seated at the front table. The old scribe turned another page in his book, dabbed his quill and paused as though considering how he might describe the terrible events of last night for all posterity to read and pass judgment.
Lady Bellemar rose and raised her hands to silence the assembly. “Quiet now, all of you. Lord Lionsbury has explained the unfortunate situation in as much detail as we will permit. It is of vital importance to remember your obligations remained unchanged. A company of guards and monks was dispatched early this morning to examine the site. Until they return with Lord Dowrick and the Holy Seer grants a continuance of the rites, there will be no further instructions given for the next series of challenges.”
Goran rose, chest out, arms at his sides as though standing in formation. “But my most gracious lady, have we not delayed long enough? We have dispatched one demon and surely the Choldath, whatever their number, cannot withstand the combined forces of all Miradora. Yet the first snow will soon be upon us and the Council is no closer to choosing our next King.”
Her Ladyship stepped gracefully to the front of the table. “Why do you say that, young Velizar? Everything you think, say, and do is being taken into account, for not every challenge faced by a King requires great displays of brazen courage and sacrifice. Love of the people, justice for all, and the ability to inspire and lead no matter how harsh the demand, may, in the end, prove better measures of character for the crown-bearer.”
Callor swaggered to his feet, lofty and proud.
“With all due respect, Lady Bellemar, I must agree with Goran. Pagan demon worshippers have summoned the Choldath to our holy Kingdom, their legion unknown and their strength at present, inferior. We would be fools courting our own demise if we did not root them out and destroy them while we can—by using all the force at our command. What say you Robert and Marcus?”
Robert, paler than usual, rubbed the dark circles under his eyes. Felicity sat beside him looking more radiant than ever with an almost uncanny glow about her. Robert coughed several times and lurched to his feet.
“We have all seen the bloody destruction just one of these creatures can unleash,” he ventured. “We need to consider what Goran and Ca
llor have said and look to the King's Council Triumvirate in Avidene for guidance until the sovereign is crowned.”
Callor tapped his knife on the edge of his plate. “And what of the Triumvirate, my lady? Are the rumors true? Is Lord Delcarden missing at sea and presumed drowned?”
A murmur of voices filled the hall. All Simon knew of this Lord Delcarden was that he sat on the Triumvirate with Callor’s father, Lord Coranthium, and another, an old man whose name he couldn’t recall. The only important thing was that Lord Lionsbury and the Evermeres spoke highly of his character and sense of justice for everyone, including slaves. It would be a sad day, then, to lose such an influential lord when a better life for all might be close at hand.
Lady Bellamar drew a breath. “As of this morning, they are only rumors, as are so many things carried on the volatile winds from Avidene. Each of you here would do well to remember that, for regardless of the outcome, nothing will change your responsibilities nor release you from your sworn obligations to your Kingdom and your people.”
Marcus remained seated, staring at the empty chairs around the Evermere table. He was silent for a few moments before speaking. “Considering that tragic possibility, my lady, then I must agree with the esteemed young lords. I want the Choldath vanquished and our new King crowned as much any person here.”
He rose slowly. “And to see each challenge through to its just and rightful end, I will abide by the wisdom of the Holy Seer and trust her judgment to guide my hand before I draw my sword, leading our people to war against an enemy we do not yet fully understand.”
Lady Bellemar folded her hands in front of her red silk gown and addressed the assembly. “And there you have it, my young protectors. Although no formal instructions were given, the challenges, it seems, may continue at any time and in any form as fate or circumstance may require.”
Lord Rabek smiled and jotted down notes.
Callor chuckled in astonishment and disbelief. “And so how have we faired, your Ladyship? Who is the victor in this pretty war of words?”
