by D. M. Almond
CHAPTER 20
Lady Cassandra could hear the temple bells tolling in the distance, announcing the ninth hour to all of Fal. She could see nothing but the inside of the black hood they had placed over her head, and a prison guard prodded her from behind with the butt of his trident to keep her moving.
Stepping outside, Cassandra could hear the angry mob gathering for her public trial. People parted from their path, being ushered to either side by the barking soldiers in front of her. She stumbled on a rock and almost lost her balance. Someone shouted for the soldiers to let her go, and the bottom of the hood flapped open, revealing nothing but the legs and worn boots of those pressing in around her. Someone was fervently speaking to the crowd up ahead, but she did not recognize the voice. Cassandra decided to reach out into the psychic Aether to mirror what the attendees were seeing.
At the base of the crudely built trial platform, Elise Ivarone stood before a crowd of peasants, preaching of Lady Cassandra’s innocence. The people of Fal were engrossed by her every word, genuinely interested to hear what the new Madame of Riverbell had to say. But why would this girl be trying to help her? Surely they had not formed any sort of relationship in the small time she had been in the capitol. In fact, the women did not even know each other. She wondered if it could be rooted in her decision to help the Elise’s fiancé with his task.
Curious, Cassandra’s mind brushed against the girl’s thoughts, sipping on the swirling waters of her memory. A scene unfolded like a foggy dream of Lady Penelope convincing Elise that it would befit her new station to show support for the wrongfully accused noblewoman. Cassandra could see the way the girl ate up Penelope’s suggestions.
She could not help the lingering smile under the hood. It never hurt to find new allies, no matter how many she already possessed. Even the callous Lady Penelope saw a need to be on her side. Of course, it must for no other reason than to align her house with the power of the winner. The woman never did bet on a loser.
Who was Cassandra to argue? Today Fafnir would eat his leering smile, him and Viktor, and then she would make sure they were paid back in full for this transgression. That weasel might think this little game he played was all in fair sport, but Cassandra would make certain he got what was coming to him.
Her eyes stung as the hood was unceremoniously yanked from her head. Cassandra stood on the wooden stage that would serve as her trial grounds. She could not imagine how Fafnir convinced the Council to try her publicly. Her mouth went dry when she saw the noose tied at the front of the platform. In the back of her mind, she wondered if it was even half as rough as the rope they bound her wrists with, and just as soon, recognized what an odd thing it was to ponder.
Most members of the Council were already seated on the stage. Thoughts of the noose quickly faded, replaced by a sense of calm as she looked over at Elder Marcus and his comforting smile. Cassandra raised her chin up high, waiting for the Arch Councilor to arrive, and well past ready to get on with this charade.
Magistrate Fafnir made his way through the crowd with the Arch Councilor at his side. No soldiers were necessary where Zacharia was concerned. The citizens, noble and peasant alike, moved respectfully out of his path.
Elise was still lost in the throes of her speech to the mob when the two men arrived. She even looked their way as Penelope had instructed so the Arch Councilor could see what a capable leader she would be for New Fal.
“What in Acadia is that girl doing?” Zacharia asked the magistrate.
“It would appear, milord, she has been rousing up the people all afternoon. There has been much talk against the council’s decision to try the witch Cassandra today,” Fafnir slithered like a snake in the Elder’s ear.
“Hmm, perhaps we misjudged the citizens of Riverbell after all,” Zacharia brooded, watching the young woman he had granted sanctuary riling up the crowd. “I will speak to the other members of the council on what they have heard.”
Ready for this moment, Fafnir signaled his men, who were dressed in plain clothes and disguised as peasants. Hidden throughout the crowd, the lackeys sprang to action, throwing rotten vegetables and fruits at the girl. After a couple hits, Elise scrambled to get out of the line of fire, sending a ripple of laughter through the crowd. She stopped short and caught one of the apples midair.
Unseen by those surrounding him, the magistrate gave the slightest of twitches with his cane, sending a burst of magic into the unsuspecting girl. Cassandra could see the look of utter disbelief on Elise’s face as one of her hands moved of its own volition, flinging the grimy apple directly at Arch Councilor Zacharia, where it bounced harmlessly across his chest, leaving a smear of rotten fruit on his robe.
The crowd fell silent while the Arch Councilor’s expression grew dark indeed, and Elise stammered to explain. Cassandra could see it all unfold plain as day from her vantage point, but no one else seemed to notice. No one except for Lady Penelope, who wore a smug grin.
So this was her ruse all along? Cassandra thought.
“Seize that woman,” Fafnir shouted right on cue to his soldiers, who were quick to obey.
Grabbing Elise, they pulled her forcefully up onto the back of the stage, where two guards held her on her knees at spear point. Arch Councilor Zacharia took his seat and rang the small bell to commence the proceedings.
“Esteemed members of the Council, may I interject before we proceed with the right of truth?” Fafnir boldly asked over the crowd, dramatically waving his arms in the air to gather everyone’s attention below.
Showboat all you want, weasel, Cassandra thought. It won’t help you. She had far too many allies for this kind of nonsense.
Zacharia bowed his head, allowing the magistrate to proceed.
Fafnir bowed low to the Elders then turned to address the crowd. “Good citizens of Fal, we have come together today to witness the trial of Lady Cassandra Alderman, accused this day of breaking the hallowed laws of our fair kingdom.”
The citizens in the mob began shouting that this was absurd, calling the magistrate a liar and telling him where he could stick his charges.
Elder Viktor rose to his feet, slamming his staff on the ground to quiet the hecklers. “Silence! You will respect the laws of trial or you will be removed.”
The crowd fell silent. Heckling Fafnir was one thing, but no one dared speak out against a member of the Twelve.
Fafnir bowed to the Elder in gratitude. “As I was saying, we have come here to witness the trial of Lady Cassandra Alderman. But before we begin, as the magistrate of our grand kingdom, I feel it is my job…nay, my duty as a seeker of justice, to bring new evidence to light.”
Cassandra could not guess what trickery the rat was pulling, but her stomach felt queasy nonetheless. A murmur ran through the crowd, getting louder as it headed toward the stage. Citizens were stepping aside to let someone through, but Cassandra could not make out whom it was. Her stomach felt hollow and her heart grew cold at the sight.
“Behold the traitor, Jayne Aldermankin, the Lady Cassandra’s own handmaiden,” Fafnir said. “Caught this very morning by the good Sir John Pinkle as she tried to flee our city carrying secret stolen scrolls of magic and plans of Fal’s defenses to Malbec.”
John roughly pulled the young woman through the crowd toward the stage. Jayne looked haggard. Her skin was layered in dirt and her clothing torn. He pulled her up onto the stage by a rope tied around her throat. Cassandra could see the girl had been severely beaten, and judging by the glazed look in her eyes, drugged as well.
John stopped at the top of the steps to give a good shove with the heel of his boot against the dazed woman’s hindquarters, toppling her hard into the wooden planks of the platform. Sobbing, Jayne pitifully tried to pull herself up, but she was too weak to manage it. Armed soldiers roughly yanked her to a standing position.
“Those are scrolls from the Council sanctum!” Elder Viktor exclaimed, feigning astonishment and pointing at the items John was handing to the magistrate
. Fafnir held them up for all to see.
Arch Councilor Zacharia was on his feet, absolutely outraged at the theft. “Where did you get these scrolls, young lady?”
“I’m afraid she cannot answer you, milord,” Fafnir said. “Good John here had to ward himself from the witch’s infernal sorcery.”
Fafnir gripped Jayne’s jaw, opening her mouth to show the council they had removed her tongue, seemingly to protect themselves from hexes. Gasps ran through the crowd and one woman screamed that she was a witch. Fafnir shoved Jayne back to the planks as others joined in, screaming out for her execution.
“But fear not,” Fafnir continued. “We know the conspiracy in full after an extensive investigation.”
That tightening feeling in Cassandra’s stomach moved to her chest and tears streaked from her eyes at Jayne’s abuse. She pulled the girl into her arms and tried to comfort her. She could feel Jayne’s heart beating hard enough to pop through her ragged shirt and smell the rank stink of fear on the girl.
“Tell us of this conspiracy, Magistrate,” Elder Viktor commanded.
“Jayne thought to ploy good John here. It has long been common knowledge that he has sought her hand in marriage. She thought to play on those feelings, and that was her folly. Had she not underestimated this man’s honor, his loyalty to Fal, we may never have found out until it was too late. For Jayne wanted his help to get her to Malbec, where her conspirators even now await the return of Lady Cassandra, their leader! It has all been a ruse to gain power over the council, to take over our land and overthrow the great kingdom of New Fal!”
Fafnir incited the crowd nearly to riot with his words, and Arch Councilor Zacharia had to slam his gavel repeatedly to silence the bloodthirsty mob.
“We have seen enough,” Zacharia said. “The trial will not progress. The evidence of truth has been presented. All of those in favor for a vote of innocence?”
Only Elder Marcus raised his hand. The world fell away from Cassandra as he looked around himself in bewilderment at the rest of the Council.
“All of those in favor for a vote of guilt?”
Every single other member of the Twelve raised their hands, some even happy to do so. People she had counted on, that she trusted, people who had promised to support her, raised their hands while meekly looking away, unable to meet her gaze as they cowardly went along with the will of the people.
“So be it,” Zacharia said. “On this day, the Lady Cassandra Alderman will be hanged to the death for the crimes of unlawful magical instruction and treason against the kingdom. Her handmaiden Jayne Aldermankin has also been seen guilty and will be hanged to the death.”
Jayne’s panic racked her body in convulsions as Arch Councilor Zacharia pronounced their death sentence.
“Furthermore, given the evidence of both women being at the center of this conspiracy, all members of the Alderman House will be taken into custody and summarily executed before dawn.”
Cassandra felt her body grow numb. She felt far removed from her physical being, distant from these dark events. It was as if she were floating above the stage, wondering at the spectacle below, where nothing seemed real. A soldier fiercely tore Jayne away from her, pulling the mewling girl toward a second noose they had set up.
Fafnir shoved Elise hard to the ground by Cassandra’s feet. “And what of the treacherous Elise Ivarone of Riverbell, Arch Councilor?” he asked with murderous intent gleaming in his eyes.
Zacharia studied the girl for a moment, thinking through the best course to take. “Take her back to the dungeons, where we will try her in private on the next eve.”
Cassandra reached down to help Elise to her feet, slipping a smooth stone into her palm and whispering into her ear, “Protect this for me until Corbin’s return. Have no fear, child, all is not lost.”
Fafnir signaled a soldier to separate the women and sidled in, eager to lead Cassandra to the awaiting noose. He looped it over her neck with a deep look of satisfaction. She had indeed underestimated him for the last time.
“Nothing to say once more, Lady Cassandra?” Fafnir slithered in her ear making a show of slowly tightening the noose. “This is turning into quite the habit.”
Cassandra spit in his face. It was the first time in almost two hundred years she had behaved so crudely.
Fafnir carefully wiped the spittle from his cheek then backhanded her sharply across the face. Instead of crying out, she began to laugh at him.
“What is so funny?” he snarled, pulling the noose snug around the soft skin of her wrinkled neck.
“I stopped them,” she managed between the bubbling laughter.
“Stopped who?” Fafnir growled. “What are you prattling on about, woman? Have you taken leave of your senses so quickly? Please, do not take the pleasure out of this for me.”
“Back in the Citadel, over two centuries ago…it was me. I was the one who stopped the Council from killing you.”
Fafnir pulled back from her, searching her eyes for some hint of madness. She grinned ruefully at him, and he held his breath.
“What…?” he stammered.
“You half-blood filth, they were right all along. One way or another, you can never trust a Jotnar.” She smiled, vindictively revealing the bastard’s half-blood lineage.
The magistrate stumbled backward away from her, almost tripping on his own robes. She followed him with unwavering eyes then turned, bravely facing the crowd with her head held high. A loud click sounded as the executioner pulled the heavy wooden lever, opening trap doors beneath the women.
Jayne struggled hard against the noose as it dug deeply into her gurgling neck. Lady Cassandra, however, was eerily calm, thinking only on how the rope did indeed scratch just as badly as it had on her wrists.
In the center of the mob, she could make out Alain’s spirit, standing with arms outstretched. He was waiting for her to join him in the light of the Crystal. She followed him, deep into the bright, mystical light of the afterworld and far away from the bloodthirsty cheers of the crowd below.
