The Trial of a Tyrant: The Assassin of Acreage Book Two

by R. L. McIntyre

  He beat her.

  His stomach turned as anger filled him. His entire being wanted to pummel his father into the ground in front of the court. He could imagine the satisfaction of his father’s blood soaking the marble floors.

  Patrick nodded to his father, who grinned before walking over to the King. Watching, Wesley felt completely stuck between both sides. He could not defend his father, but he couldn’t kill Serena either.

  Frustrated, he stood and watched, hoping to survive the next few hours and liberate Serena. He refused to sleep until she was found. His body still needed time to recover fully, but he could manage. He’d find her Gods or no Gods.

  “It’s been a long couple of days.” The General began. The crowd quieted. “I am sure everyone is weary with the discoveries made. I know I am not the one on trial, but I wanted to take the time to clear my name. The claims set forth by Lord Aldemo are terrible ones. I am saddened that my seal was used to kill such innocent children. However, I was not the one to send such reports. You all saw how easy it was for the guard to get my seal. I never protected it, not knowing what vile things it could be used for. For that, I apologize. I never wished such a fate on children.”

  “Fancy words for a liar,” Aldemo said. “They were your soldiers. You spent the last couple of months in the north. You were close-” Wesley took a breath, bile rising in this throat. His muscles tensed against him, but still he spoke.

  “The General was busy fighting uprisings in the north. If he was going to kill children, he was close enough to do it himself without leaving a paper trail.” Wesley stated. Aldemo stared at him. For a moment he believed the look in Aldemo’s eyes.

  “I hardly think the General sees such a task fitting of his title.” Aldemo inserted.

  “Treason would be something one would want to do in secret, with no possibilities for others to find out. I believe the General is too smart for such a blunder. It may be his seal, but not his order. Not to mention this trial is not about the General but the King. This only proves that the King has indiscretions that aren’t treasonous. Most Kings enjoy themselves. Even the Great Kings.” Wesley explained, referring to the Great Kings carved into the walls of their capital. Some murmurs agreed.

  “There are plenty of other cases. I am merely showing the corruption and incompetence of the King’s choices. He is our ruler and as such this leads to questions of his incompetence.” Aldemo returned.

  “Show your evidence,” Wesley returned, hoping Aldemo had more tricks. They needed something to continue to work, but also maybe not. Maybe they needed to buy time to find Serena. Stealing a look at his father, the General seemed pleased.

  “There are reports to finish before the King can offer his defense.” Patrick inserted.

  “The General’s capability still needs to be decided. Those innocent children deserve justice!” Aldemo snapped.

  “There is little way to prove whether the General sent the orders. His seal alone is not enough. It is regrettable, but this council cannot condemn him for this alone. There is not a pattern of incompetence or malice.” Patrick explained. Aldemo scowled and glared at Wesley.

  Wesley could stop his father. He could spill ever terrible secret, but not until he found Serena. He felt his breath hitch as he tried to calm himself. There was nothing he could do. The General had him right where he wanted him.

  “Let’s continue with the charges.” The King growled.

  Another Lord stepped forwards with his claims. The room filled with tension, seeming uncertain of whom to believe. Wesley gritted his teeth. He added to the uncertainty, even though he wanted the King to lose. He needed his father to lose his control as well.

  The claims finished, the General spoke eloquently, but Wesley said nothing. He barely registered when it finished for the day. He snuck off to search but decided to follow his father first. Maybe he would lead him to her. He tracked him through the castle and out into the grounds of the castle. If found Wesley could face severe punishment but nothing felt worse than this. Nothing could be worse.

  The General pranced around like a peacock for hours before leaving the castle altogether. Did he keep Serena outside of the castle? The thought never occurred before. Resigning himself to hours more of searching, he left the castle to enter the city. For a moment he swore the medallion on his neck glowed. So faint he thought he imagined it.

  He traced the streets of Meta, wandering in the masses. It felt different than he remembered. Often, he only visited with friends and that was a rarity. Too much work piled on his desk. Too little time in a day to stop the raging fires threatening to kill his friends. Yet as he walked and looked more and more at Meta, the jewel of Acreage, it disgusted him. His brethren ruled over the Acreage people. They made them slave away for their petty illusion of civility. None of it mattered. The Samorians would not care.

  He walked to the square where a fountain stood on the spot a temple once was. He could not name all the Acreage Gods, nor could he remember the name of the God whose temple they destroyed. In Acreage, few of his brethren even prayed to their ancestors. It felt like they cut out any sense of faith from their lives and thought that a change in scenery would allow them to bring light to a land cast in barbaric practices.

  For the first time since looking at the fountain, he felt less proud of his heritage. Templarians were not the light-bringers. The more he heard about the King and his father, the more he realized they were the villains. Always had been. Perhaps he too was a villain.

  The thought twisted his stomach. He wasn’t the savior he thought he was. He started back to the castle and found the medallion on his neck glowing. Staring at it, he rubbed his eyes. Still, it glowed. He turned and its light lessened.

  Midhor. He thought. Thank you.

  He let it lead him off. The closer he drew, the brighter it was. Each step filled with trepidation as he rushed forwards. He could see a door in the distance and a figure stood nearby. Whoever it was would not stop him. Not now that he was so close to finding her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Serena

  The creak of the door woke Serena. Her heart dropped as her tense limbs shrunk away from the door, trying to escape whatever torture was coming next. Her eyes knew the shadowed figure of the General even before he yanked on the chain. She gaged, falling onto her stomach. The grin on his face warned of what was next. Hours or days she was unsure, but the pain continued. Endless, like the stars.

  Again, she remained mute, refusing to give in to him. He returned her to her cell with promises of new tactics. She waited as pain rippled through her body. Her only companion.

  The creaking of the door drew her attention, and she watched. A figure stood in the doorway, a slight golden glow illuminating them. Serena felt fear rush her, wondering what cruel torture device the General found.

  “Serena,” a mournful voice gasped. The voice soothed her as she recognized Wesley’s face.

  “Wesley?” she asked, unsure if it was a dream. Her hand reached to his cheek as he bent in front of her. Touching the soft skin of his face, she relaxed, tears rising in her eyes. His gentle hands moved through her hair before they unlocked the collar with a set of keys in his hand. His fingers pushed back her hair, looking at the purple marks. He leaned in and gently kissed them as if trying to will the pain away. She could feel his sadness and relief in each gentle touch.

  He turned to the shackles on her wrist, unlocking them and looking at the red and raw skin. Again, his soft lips kissed them before his eyes met hers. An apology sat in them. Mournful and lovely.

  Tears began to fall as she felt safe again. She took a shuddering breath that inflamed her injuries.

  “I didn’t think anyone would come.” She choked, her voice small. His face dropped as he shook his head. He gently caressed her cheek, pleading for her eyes to meet his.

  “I will always come for you. No matter where you go, I will follow you. You are the air I breathe.” He whispered. Gently, she nodded as more tear
s slipped down her cheeks.

  Emotions she never felt sat on her chest, crushing her more than the pain. No one made her feel worthy. No one came for her. She had to escape the prison camp alone. She spent an entire year praying for someone to care, and no one did.

  Wesley cared. The thought felt like it would break her apart.

  “Hurry up!” growled a voice. James’ head peeked in and she stared at him. Her previous relief twisted into a panic.

  “You!” she growled out; her voice hoarse. Wesley’s powerful arms picked her up, cradling her to his chest as he headed for the door. Her body ached with the movement and she sucked in a breath.

  “We’ll get you fixed up in no time,” he whispered before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. She stared at James, wanting to push herself from Wesley’s arms and strangle him. Instead, she found her words were the only option.

  “James is the one who-” she started.

  “I know,” Wesley said. She stared. He knew?

  “I’ll deal with it once we’re out of here,” he growled a warning in his eyes as he let James take the lead.

  James led them through the halls and to a set of stairs. Once at the top, he opened a door outside into the moonlight. The fresh air filled her lungs, giving her some sense of strength again. The cool air encompassed them as James led them away from the strange door on the side of the castle walls. She didn’t know the walls housed such a place.

  She looked back up at Wesley who rushed after James, the two keeping a silent pace. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile, his eyes still showing concern. His arms held her closer as they continued.

  Finally, the rows of cottages came into view. James opened Helen’s door and Wesley rushed in.

  Helen stood up from her spot on a loveseat next to Michalina. Her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Serena!” she exclaimed. “Let's get her into the bath!”

  Wesley carried her to the bathroom where a warm bath waited. He held her tight, looking to her for guidance. Serena nodded, and he gently laid her into the water, kneeling next to the tub. He gently rubbed away dirt and dried blood from her cheek.

  “We’ll get you cleaned up,” Helen said, walking in with Michalina. Wesley stood preparing to leave, but Serena’s hand snatched his. Her eyes wide and she shook her head no, ignoring the pain.

  Michalina smiled. “He can’t. Helen, please tend to him. I need Mary.”

  Wesley smiled timidly and kissed Serena’s hand.

  “I’ll be on the other side of the door with Helen.” Serena slowly nodded as Helen led him out. Mary rushed in and shut the door.

  “Alright, let’s get this off you.” Mary started as the pair helped Serena strip off her scattered and dirty clothes. Purple bruises covered almost every inch of her body. Michalina gasped at the sight.

  “Why can’t they stay?” Serena asked, her voice small.

  Mary looked her in the eye. “You know why. To ease your pain, we need to use other methods none of them know about.”

  Serena felt anger at not being able to be honest with them.

  “I should tell Wesley.”

  “No, there is a reason the General hasn’t. Don’t,” Mary warned.

  “For how long? You told Aldemo,”

  Michalina sighed. “Wesley, has his reasons.”

  “What? Why shouldn’t I tell him?”

  Michalina and Mary shared a looked.

  “His mother. She worked with witches in secret to help them. When she was dying, none of them tried to save her. Wesley, holds that grudge.”

  “That doesn’t mean-”

  “Do you want to test it now?” Mary paused. “Wait until you’re well first.”

  “I’m going to see if I can speed up some of the healing.” Michalina offered.

  “You can’t make it any worse.” Serena returned, settling into the water. They weren’t wrong, and she knew it. She was in no position to tell Wesley and have him reject her. There was a chance he would, and it terrified her. That was why the General said nothing. He couldn’t risk losing his leverage.

  Michalina nodded and began speaking in Magika, the warm magic spreading into the water. It eased the pain until it reached her wrist. She hissed, yanking her arms out.

  The pulsating heat in her veins nearly caused her to shake. Mary gently took her wrist and sighed, releasing them to get a cloth.

  “This will take longer. It will hurt, but it should draw the residue out. It’s better that way.” she said, holding out her hands with the cloth in it. Slowly Serena offered them both to Mary. She gently wrapped the cloth around them and then held them under the water as Serena’s face contorted in pain. Her breaths left in a hiss of air instead of a steady stream.

  “Fuck,” she growled out. It eased as Michalina moved to her hair. She carefully unknotted it.

  “There,” Mary said. “You and I will talk about practicing some magic.”

  “A man there. He called me a Champion.”

  Michalina frowned. “We’ll worry about that later. Let’s get you dry and resting.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Later,”

  Serena relented. She had no energy left to fight. It was all stolen from her in that terrible dungeon.

  She stood. The water dripped off her as she noticed her limbs felt lighter than before. The water healed her in some ways, but not all. The pain was at least manageable.

  Mary helped Serena into a flowing shift and robe while Michalina braided her hair. They could hear raised voices in the room next door. Mary opened the door, peeking out. Voices carried through the space.

  “I can’t just not do as the General asks me!” yelled James.

  “You can at least tell me! Warn me so I could’ve gotten her out sooner instead of waiting fucking days! You’ve watched me walk around the castle at least fifty times and still said nothing!” Wesley snapped back.

  “The General’s been with her most of the time and you can’t be seen going in there. I did what was best at the time to protect you!” James returned.

  Serena, Mary and Michalina walked out of the bathroom and into the parlor where the debate continued.

  Wesley shook his head, his hands fisted.

  “Look, she’s fine,” James said, gesturing over to her. Wesley took one look at Serena’s weakened form and spun. He landed a hit to James square in the face. James stumbled back as blood poured from his nose. He stared at Wesley, shock covering his face.

  “If you ever put her in harm’s way again, I promise you, you won’t have to fear the General. I’ll get to you first!” He turned his back on James and walked over to Serena. His eyes inspected her as his hand caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. Her lungs expanded, allowing a full breath to enter. The first in days.

  “Let’s get some food in you. Helen made tea. I think it’s a tad on the strong side, but-” he began looking into her eyes as she opened them.

  “Perfect,” she grinned. He smiled as well and held out his arm. She took it and followed towards the fireplace. Helen rushed ahead to pour tea. Serena moved to sit, but Wesley held her back, shaking his head.

  “What-” Serena began.

  He sat down at the table and pulled her close, forcing her to sit on his lap. She let out a yelp of surprise as he held her carefully, to not inflame her injuries.

  “Is this alright?”

  Serena nodded, a flush on her cheeks. She picked up a cup of tea. She took a slow sip, the warm liquid soothing her throat.

  “How is it?” Helen asked.

  “Perfect as always.” She said taking another sip. It tasted better than she remembered. It relaxed her as her mind slowly drifted back to logic. “What now?”

  “You just concern yourself with getting well.” Wesley chimed in.

  “Won’t the General come here looking for me when he notices I’m gone?” Wesley grew tense.

  “It’s been taken care of,” Aldemo said. “He won’t be botheri
ng you again. He has other problems to deal with.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a little letter, Sam gave to the King which will help the King claim the General is the problem. It blames several war crimes on the General. The King will use it at tomorrow’s trial.” James said, holding a rag to his face.

  “I want to go. I don’t want to hide.”

  “Serena, please. Just rest tomorrow.” Wesley offered.

  “I’m more likely to get in trouble alone than in a crowd.” She wanted no more time alone. Solitude was terrifying. Her thoughts were as terrifying as a blade. Facing the General even across a room felt nerve-wracking, but she wouldn’t be alone.

  Wesley let out a sigh. “You go nowhere without Helen and Michalina. I mean nowhere.” He said, his voice stern.

  “I promise Wesley. I’m not a little kid.” She returned. He took another heavy sigh, and she turned to him, looking at the lines on his face. Worry and pain.

  “I almost lost you twice now. Please be careful.” He returned. She nodded her head.

  “I’ll try my best, but things are dangerous for everyone until the King is convicted, I can’t promise anything.”

  He gently reached his hand behind her head, pulling their foreheads close enough until they touch.

  “Then I will find you. No matter where you are. Where you hide. I will always find you. My heart belongs to you and only you.” He whispered. She nodded, her heart beating out of her chest as words caught in her throat. He gently kissed her. His lips moved slowly, extending every second of their touch. Her lungs screamed for air, but in a way that made her feel whole. He was here. She was safe. Tears rose at the corner of her eyes. She pulled and placed her hand on his cheek as she managed a smile.

  “My heart belongs to you as well. No matter what happens. We’ll do it together, always.” She pleaded. He nodded and kissed her again.