Tales of Fire and Ruin - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

At the crack of dawn, I woke up to an empty bed, a glare in my eye, and loud banging on my door.
Groaning, I shielded my face from the sun and shifted myself upright. I looked at the nightstand and found the culprit of the glare: a fruit knife sitting innocently on the wooden surface. The rays of the sun reflecting on its blade cast light into my eyes. Half of a piece of green fruit laid next to the knife. A drop of transparent liquid clung to its edge. The memory of Oleander breaking the fruit open with an impish smirk playing on his lips brought heat to my cheeks.
I flinched as the banging on my door grew louder.
"What is it?" I called out.
"It's time to rise, lord Montbow," Endris' voice sounded on the other side of the door. "You mustn't be late for your hearing."
"Yes." I sighed. "Be right there."
I brushed a hand through my unruly hair and stared at the empty spot beside me on the bed. The sun shining into my room warmed my face but not my heart. It was cold without Oleander here. I knew he couldn't possibly have stayed the night, but I wished he had, anyway. I wished we would be here in each other's arms, rather than him in a servant's room and me facing a trial.
After stretching out, I made myself stand. The faster I would go to the courtroom, the faster this would be behind me. Then there was the queen's ball, and then I could hopefully leave Wildewall and the court behind me for the foreseeable future.
I donned myself in clothes which seemed to be made for gallivanting and showing off wealth. There was an unreasonable amount of gemstones embedded in the tunic's fabric, but at least I wasn't half-naked today.
Unfortunately, I would have to be alone. Much as I would have liked Oleander in the room for moral strength while I stood trial, I decided it was too risky to expose him to a crowd. I left him at the inn, hoping he would understand, while Ariane, Endris, Nele, and a few more of Ariane's servants escorted me to the trial court.
Last night, I was the happiest man in this city. This morning, I was in a courtroom facing a trial, on behalf of my entire family, for a crime I didn't commit. One Ytel had brought on himself by coming to the Thundercoast intending to steal Montbow land.
Also, nobody had told me trials were public events in Wildewall. Well, at least not this public.
Seemingly, they were very popular events. The trial court was a tall building consisting of one fully open room with an audience of at least two-hundred people already present. I halted at the entrance, losing my bearings for a moment at suddenly being confronted with this many people.
I was also very aware that everyone would see my hesitation should they look over their shoulder at me now. Several people did, and murmurs started echoing through the room.
"Laurence, move!" Ariane hissed in my ear. Her palm pressed against my back and she pushed me.
With my heartbeat in my throat I walked, one foot in front of the other, past stone-faced guards stationed at the entrance. I tried my best to ignore the rows of people on my left and right, all staring at me. Looking ahead wasn't much better, unfortunately. There was a judge with eyes dark like onyxes staring at me from a table positioned on a stage that towered over the crowd. A council of eight people wearing all black surrounded her, four on the left and four on the right. Hoods decorated with god-touched symbols covered half the council members' expressionless faces.
As I walked further into the room, I realised there was also a balcony above me, filled with men and women donned in fancy clothes. These had to be the noble born attendants of the trial, seated up high and always making sure they were ascended above the common folk. Priest Landefort was among them, literally looking down on me just like the judge.
I was grateful my back would be turned towards the audience as I spoke to the judge and the council. Endris had prepared me for the trial and it worked here in Wildewall. In essence, it was very simple. The judge and her council would listen while I told my story. They would have listened to Ytel's story after mine, but he was no longer here to defend himself.
I swallowed nervously. The words I said today were on behalf of my entire family, Oleander and Endris. For everyone who had been present at the Thundercoast the day Ytel died. Standing alone with a council and a judge in front of me and an audience behind me, I felt incredibly small.
I hoped sincerely that my voice would come out even as I opened my mouth. "Your honour. Highly esteemed members of the council," I spoke the words Endris had written down for me. "Knight commander Ytel's untimely death was an unfortunate event and we, too, mourn the loss of one of Wildewall's finest at the Thundercoast."
While I talked, one of the jury members took off his hood, revealing Ezra Dagon's lined face. He winked at me, leaned over to the judge, and whispered something in her ear.
A moment later, the judge held up her hand.
I didn't know what to do. Ariane nor Endris had never told me they could interrupt me in my plea. They told me the judge would let me talk. Maybe I'd be asked a few questions, to which I'd repeat parts of what I'd already said during my plea. The sign of holding up one's hand up was universal, however. I quieted down while my stomach lurched with nerves.
"Did the Montbows kill knight commander Ytel?" the judge asked me. Her voice was monotonous, her expression blank. I couldn't read her intentions with these questions.
I wetted my bottom lip. "Knight commander Ytel was killed in the thick and chaos of a battle at night. None of us have witnessed who was the culprit," I said, my mouth moving on its own because my head filled with cotton and panic. I was glad I had read Endris' words so often that, while I thought I didn't know them by heart, I could repeat them effortlessly.
The judge leaned forward, her chair creaking as she shifted. "Are you certain one of the servants, Lady Seydal's, or yours, who were all present in the mansion at the time, didn't have a grudge against the knight commander and killed him?"
I gaped at the judge.
This wasn't a question Endris had prepared an answer for. He had given me three sheets filled with beautiful words about how the Montbow family sorely regretted the situation, how I knew knight commander Ytel from our journey to the mountains, and how we all wished things would have ended differently. I would have ended my plea with an offer of fifty diamonds to Wildewall. A donation equal to the amount of coin we allegedly still owed Ytel. It was a beautiful speech, but I couldn't use any of it to answer the judge's question. I had to think of an answer on my own.
"Uh," I stammered, silently cursing myself because everyone in the room could hear my stuttering. "No, your honour. Our servants were not in the mansion nor in the woods where the knight commander was found, the night of the murder."
I swore I read a hint of surprise in the judge's expression. "Are you certain blessed storm-touched?" she asked. "Would any of your townsfolk have had the opportunity and reason to murder him?"
"Everyone would have had an opportunity in the dark," I blurted. "But no, the townsfolk wouldn't have had a motive."
"I see." The judge sat back in her chair. "Continue your plea, lord Montbow."
I cleared my throat. "Thank you." I took a deep breath and did my best to continue my plea. The words I spoke barely registered in my mind—I was numb and frantic at the same time. I didn't know what the sudden questioning from the judge meant, and I couldn't ask until after we had vacated the courtroom.
Thankfully, the judge and the council allowed me to finish my entire plea without further interruptions.
"That was all, your honour," I ended my speech with a small bow.
Much to my surprise, a lukewarm, polite applause filled the room. A trial truly seemed to be a public affair in Wildewall, almost a form of entertainment. No wonder Endris had put so much effort into crafting beautiful, lyrical sentences with more difficult words than needed.
"Thank you, lord Montbow," the judge said after the applause faded out. "You may retreat into a private room with your loved ones to await our verdict."
Two guards stepped beside me and let me into a room in the back. When I stepped inside, Ariane was already sitting on a curved armchair situated in the centre of a round room with red curtains aside the tall windows. She sipped tea from a porcelain cup. Her face wasn't a storm, so I reckon I didn't mess up too badly. Still, I was certain she had something to criticise.
I walked to the free armchair, dropped myself into it, and exhaled loudly.
Ariane kept sipping tea. "Tea?" she offered, nodding at the pot on the table. It stood on a small, iron platform with holes and a flickering flame below it.
I glanced at the pot, then turned back to Ariane. "You have nothing to say about the trial? No ridiculing, no remarks on what I did wrong according to Wildewall etiquette?"
Ariane took a sip of her tea.
"Really? Nothing?" I asked. "You have nothing to say about what happened at the half-elven execution yesterday, either?"
"I will pour you some tea," Ariane replied as if I hadn't spoken at all, before promptly doing as she said.
Confused, I accepted the cup of tea Ariane made for me. But if she didn't want to scold me, I wasn't complaining.
After a few more moments of silence, Ariane sighed. "Ezra Dagon was offering you an easy way out," she said. "You could have blamed anyone you wanted and walk away scot-free."
I didn't understand what she meant for a moment. Then I remembered Ezra whispering to the judge and my eyes widened. "So that's what he wanted," I said. "Look, I don't know who stabbed Ytel and killed him. And even if I did, I got a taste of what Wildewall's 'justice' is like yesterday, so I wouldn't tell them regardless."
"Huh," Ariane said with an arched brow. "So you're saying several people have tried to extend their hand to you, and you spat on it every time."
I frowned. "If you mean priest Landefort and Ezra Dagon, then yes. I don't want their deals."
"So it was a conscious choice then to not take their offers?" Ariane mused. "Interesting."
It wasn't. I hadn't the faintest clue what Ezra was offering me with the judge right until now, but I wasn't about to tell Ariane about that. "I don't want their deals, no," I repeated. "I am not selling out Oleander, Endris, my family, or your servants just to gain the respect of Wildewall's nobles."
A small smile played on Ariane's lips.
"What?" I asked.
"I think I feel a little bit of respect for you. What a strange feeling."
I snorted. "What would you have done in my stead?"
"I wouldn't sell out my people," Ariane said, pursing her lips.  "Maybe I would sell out you or Oleander if the threat to me was large enough."
"Only me and Oleander? Thanks," I said sarcastically. "And here I was, thinking you'd throw everyone at a judge after the first misstep they took. Your servants certainly seemed scared of nobility in Brittleton's castle."
"They feared you because of your mark, Laurence," Ariane said. "Not because of anything I said to them. I know it is difficult for you to imagine." Ariane wrinkled her nose. "It is difficult for me to imagine. But I needn't remind you these people see you as someone very special. They will look away for many of your mistakes, but their goodwill will run out."
I crossed my arms. "I will keep making 'mistakes' if that means protesting against unfair trials and not blaming an innocent for a crime."
Ariane shook her head in 'disapproval', but I saw a smile tugging at her lips before she hid behind her tea.
This was probably the longest we'd ever conversed without Ariane mocking or scolding me. I wasn't about to try my luck today. I would've been content with silence, but then there was a knock on the door.
It swung open and Ezra Dagon stood in the entrance. He grinned. "Hello children," he said as he stepped inside.
"Master Dagon," Ariane politely greeted Ezra. She nodded, and Ezra bowed.
I would have felt bad for making such an old man bow, but Ezra didn't seem to suffer from his old age. He walked faster than I did, his body supple like a young man's. His eyes sparkled as he looked at me. "My, you are quite a rebellious one, aren't you, young storm-touched?"
I smiled sheepishly. "Not on purpose, I assure you."
Ezra chuckled. "Be that as it may, I'm afraid this behaviour hasn't made you many friends with the court or the temples. You stepped on many toes."
"I already had a feeling the nobles had very long toes, and they were easy to step on," I joked. "And what exactly does that mean?"
"It means you should start considering the consequences of your deeds, lord Montbow," Ezra said. "Surely, you came here knowing you had to impress Wildewall's nobility, not antagonise them?"
"I didn't mean to do that."
"Yet, you did," Ezra pointed out. "The judge and the rest of the council didn't want to rule in your favour, I'll have you know. They told me to bring you the verdict, and they want someone hanged for the crime. It doesn't particularly matter who." Ezra let out his distinct little giggle. "But fear not. I made sure the vote wasn't unanimous, and I asked for another week to reconsider the outcome of the trial."
Ezra gazed me with raised brows.
When I shot him a questioning look, Ariane released a sigh. "This is the part where you ask what he wants in return for that, Laurence."
"Oh," I said dumbly.
Ezra raised his brows even higher, wrinkling his lined forehead further.
I resisted the urge to sigh myself. It seemed like everyone wanted something for everything they did in this city, and I was beginning to feel like a puppet on a string.
"What do you want in return for that?" I asked reluctantly.
Ezra grinned. "So happy you asked, lord Montbow. My request is simple. All I want is a conversation in private with your servant. Oleander the... herbalist, is it?"
I was immediately on my guard. "Why?" I asked.
Ezra raised his hands in defence, seemingly sensing my change of tone. "I have an interest in his knowledge, young lordling. Fret not. All I want is to pick his brain about how he thinks of his antidotes and what else he knows of medicine."
"I thought you were a historian specialised in the elven human war." I crossed my arms.
"I'm a scholar, lord Montbow," Ezra corrected me with a smile. "And I am always seeking more knowledge."
"I'm certain Laurence agrees, master Dagon," Ariane said. She shot me a hard look that said I better not try to argue with her.
Ariane didn't understand what was at stake, however. Endris' warning was fresh in my mind. If anyone was going to discover what Oleander was, it was Ezra Dagon. Maybe he already suspected, and that was why he wanted to see Oleander again.
I couldn't think of a good reason to deny his request. At face value, it seemed like such a small favour to ask compared to what it would gain me. If the Montbow family was to be found guilty of murder, someone would have to hang. My hand would be forced. I'd have to point at someone innocent as Ytel's killer, or risk them choosing a culprit because someone had to be blamed.
I broke out in cold sweat. This was what Oleander meant with choosing a side, or everyone will burn. I would ruin the trial if I tried to keep everyone safe. For now, I had to agree or else I'd quickly run out of options.
I breathed in and out. "Very well," I told Ezra.
Ezra clapped his hands. "Splendid! I will ensure your verdict will be more... favourable."
Humming a cheerful tune, Ezra left the room.
I buried my head in my hands. "What have I done?"
"You made the right decision," Ariane said. "Letting master Dagon have a conversation with Oleander is the best path. I don't understand why you refuse to let him talk to anyone."
I bit my tongue. Of course, Ariane didn't understand, and I couldn't explain to her how dangerous it was. "Can master Dagon be trusted?" I asked.
Ariane thought of it for a moment. "He is good on his word, if that is what you ask. But manipulative to get what he wants."
"You say manipulative like it's a dirty word," I joked. "Why? You are constantly talking about how you want me for my mark alone. Is it only alright if you are manipulative?"
Ariane's eyes lowered down to her tea. "I was five years old too when I was promised to you, Laurence. I was a child with no say in the matter, just like you. And now we are here. Breaking betrothals is forbidden by the gods and shamed by the court, and I'm trying to make the best of that despite knowing you're in love with Oleander and everyone will see it after one blink when they see you together. Do you think I enjoy this?"
Ariane's eyes met mine again. A flame burned in them. "We will see each other again at the ball," she said, before standing, straightening out her skirts, and walking out of the room.