Only Stones Remain (Ballad of Frindoth Book 4)

by Rob Donovan

  Vashna regarded Tulber with interest. The idea of the accused and the prosecutors facing each other was for them to be brave enough to be witnessed by the Gods to say what they wanted and have the other party look them in the eye. Althalos had always thought it was an opportunity for one side to intimidate the other yet Vashna had shown no sign of using such a tactic. As with Hol Stepice's speech he had endured what the Warlords had to say. Earlier he had given a concise but passionate speech detailing how he made no apology for rebelling against the King but recognising he had allied himself with the wrong people. He claimed his intentions were honourable but his methods were appalling. Althalos had been impressed how the Warlord had made no attempt to shift the blame for some of the more heinous acts his side had committed even though some of them had clearly not been his instructions and he had not approved.

  It was clear Vashna did not want to be associated with Cordane but he made no reference to this. The Prince had also admired the way Vashna did not point out how Atikass had been accepted by the Prince (until the stabbing at least) whilst he was standing trial. Of the two Stasiak had committed the worst crimes. Vashna had simply stated the future he saw for his people and how it was very much the same as the direction the Prince seemed to be going. No one questioned what would happen if the Prince's path strayed from Vashna's, they did not need to. Vashna had demonstrated already what he would do in that situation.

  General Wray had also spoken at length on the virtues of Vashna's character. He pointed out how much the men respected him and how the people of Yurisdoria were not violent thugs, but the same as Rivervale folk or those from Easterly Rock. Geography was the only thing that separated them, that and the negligence they had experienced at the hands of King Jacquard.

  The General had easily been the most eloquent of the speakers so far, he was erudite and wasted few words. He revealed how Cordane had humiliated Vashna with the Frostbite melon and whilst this had little bearing on his Warlord's crimes, it helped to demonstrate how sincere he was in swearing allegiance to someone he believed in.

  Althalos had found both Vashna's and Wray's pleas interesting but now as Tulber sipped a glass of water before beginning, the tedium had returned. Tulber took a deep breath and his huge belly rose and then plopped onto the table. The Prince did not think the Warlord had noticed nor if he had he did not care, enjoying the fact the table bore the brunt of his weight.

  "This man," Tulber began pointing a finger at Vashna, "deserves to die. I have already spoken at great length in private of the reasons why. Many have been covered today but some have not. Even so, you will be relieved to hear I will not go into them today. If I did I would speak all night. When Vashna rebelled, I did not follow him. For one very good reason. I had faith in my King. I had faith in the crown and I believed the monarchy would uphold the laws of the land. That law states quite simply that traitors, usurpers and murderers should be executed. Vashna is all three of those things. I have nothing more to say because I know what the law says and I am confident Vashna will be brought to justice. I have nothing more to say because as soon as this trial is over I will watch that man hang."

  The atrium was stunned as Tulber gave Vashna a long hard stare before returning to his seat on the bench in front of the viewing gallery. When he had spoken before, Tulber had always been erratic, his arguments meandering with his hatred getting side-tracked. This speech had been short and effective. He had also challenged the Prince to uphold the laws of Frindoth. It posed the question what kind of ruler would Althalos be. A just and fair man like his father had always been, or one easily corrupted and (or) weak.

  Tulber stared at the floor and shook his head as if he couldn't believe the trial was even happening. Gone was the drunken Warlord who debated and contested every decision. In his place was a man certain that justice would be carried out. For the first time Vashna seemed ill at ease. Althalos would never say the Warlord had been confident of being cleared of the charges levied against him, if anything he had been quite accepting of his fate. But the ferocity behind Tulber's speech seemed to have brought home the reality of that fate in full.

  Hol Stepice stepped forward and raised his arms to indicate for silence. Those that were whispering fell silent. Althalos looked over to the Warlords sat on the bench. Grath was the only one who had not spoken and the Prince wondered how the Warlord of Easterly Rock would follow Tulber.

  “There has been a change to the proceedings…another change,” Hol Stepice said and glanced towards the Prince. Althalos ignored the slight, curious at this change of events. As Prince it was his duty to preside over the trial and be aware of all the speakers. He had reduced the number of witnesses down to four and had assumed they would consist of the four Warlords. “Grath has conceded his role as a witness to another.”

  The doors to the atrium opened and the audience turned to see who had taken the Warlord’s place. Althalos craned his neck to see as much as anyone. He shot a look at Fyfe who shrugged to show he had no idea who this new witness was.

  A soldier appeared in the doorway, he was middle aged, with a thick beard. Althalos did not recognise him, although he wore Rivervale armour. For a moment the Prince thought he was the last witness until he saw the soldier scan the room and a look of relief spread on his face upon seeing Althalos. The soldier trotted over to the Prince and bent to whisper in his ear. Fyfe leaned in to hear also.

  “I fear this news will come too late but an army has been spotted on the horizon,” the soldier said.

  Althalos gripped the arms of his chair, a chill running down his spine, “the enemy?”

  “Not quite.”

  Before the soldier could say anymore heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor outside. They grew louder until a large familiar figure appeared in the doorway. His large red beard was plaited into three strands, and the leather straps that crossed his bare chest displayed the insignia of a sparrow hawk on a red background.

  “Hamsun,” Althalos said slowly standing to his feet. The last time the Prince had seen the Warlord of Luciana was just after he had put his entire family out of their misery by smashing their statuesque bodies to smithereens. Hamsun turned towards the Prince and offered the briefest of nods, his eyes then settled on Vashna and narrowed. Behind the hulking Warlord's head was the silhouette of his battle axe. Althalos recalled the way Hamsun fought with the weapon at the battle of the Basin and shuddered. He scythed through the rebel army as if they were wheat and never seemed to grow tired of wielding the weapon.

  Hamsun stepped into the atrium and Althalos could have sworn the majority of the audience in the room inched away from him. Hamsun's state of mind had been questionable at least the last time anyone had seen him. How sane he was now just a few months later was anyone's guess.

  "Eh, weapons are not permitted in the atrium during a trial," Hol Stepice announced.

  "You going to take it off me?" Hamsun said and glared at the Chief of Justice before looking at Althalos. The Prince smiled.

  "No one would relish that task my friend but I must insist on this occasion," Althalos said.

  Hamsun grunted and removed the battle axe. He let it drop to the floor with a clang that echoed around the room. A section of chipped tile flew up and bounced into the Atrium. Hamsun frowned at the damage and then shrugged. Althalos thought back to the time his father had insisted Hamsun concede his axe, it had taken two soldiers to drag the weapon away, much to Hamsun's amusement.

  "I call upon our fourth witness: Hamsun, Warlord of Luciania, leader of-" Hol Stepice began

  "Yeah, we'll skip all that," Hamsun said waving the Chief of Justice away as he headed to where Althalos sat. "I neglected you my liege. For that I am sorry." Some of the playfulness Althalos recalled had returned to Hamsun's eyes. Was he truly over his family's death or was it just the temporary joy at seeing familiar faces again.

  "There is nothing to forgive, although I am somewhat surprised to see you. A pleasant surprise, but a surprise none the less," Alth
alos said.

  "You might not be saying that when you hear what I have to say."

  "I look forward to your opinion as always Hamsun. You have been affected more than anyone in this war."

  Hamsun's smile dropped a little and tears came to his eyes. He nodded and turned away from the Prince to take his place opposite Vashna. The tension in the atrium was palpable. Hamsun was a witness for those seeking to condemn Vashna but the question was would he be able to control his behaviour with Vashna close enough that he could get his hands on him.

  Hamsun kicked the chair out of the way as he stood at the witness table. It skidded across the tiles but remained upright. Hol Stepice opened his mouth to once again introduce the Warlord but thought better of it. Instead he bowed his head and subtly retreated to the background.

  For a moment Hamsun merely stared at Vashna. He breathed rapidly as he seethed. Vashna did not shy away from the scrutiny and returned the look. It was not defiance, but an understanding that he should not try to hide his sins. Luciana and Yurisdoria were neighbouring regions and also arguably the most powerful in Frindoth. The two Warlords had once been great friends.

  The setting sun emerged from behind the purple clouds sending shards of light through one of the windows. The tiles before the two Warlords were bathed in a red glow as though the Gods were reminding the two men of the blood that had been shed between them.

  Hamsun eventually broke eye contact as he rummaged in a sack around his waist. He pulled out five glass jars: four small ones and one larger jar and placed them on the witness table. All contained what appeared to be dirt.

  “I like to take what’s left of my family with me everywhere I go,” Hamsun said. Several members of the audience gasped at this and Althalos cursed himself for not realising what the jars were before Hamsun told everyone. An enormous sadness came over him and he thought once again of how the Warlord of Yurisdoria had suffered more than anyone in this conflict. Not only had his family been turned to stone, but so had all of his people in Crestfall. Many of them were probably still solidified. Only Hamsun knew if the people still lived or not. The Prince would never forget the desperation in the eyes of those frozen in time as they pleaded to be saved.

  Vashna was unable to look away from the jars. A tear fell down his cheek which he did not bother to wipe away. To his left, Breshanel buried her head in General Wray’s chest and sobbed. She was not the only one unable to contain their emotions.

  “Does this distress anyone? Shall I put them away in the sack again? Shall I leave them in the darkness?” Hamsun continued. No one replied. “I stood outside this room and listened to what all the witnesses had to say. I can’t say I disagree with anything Unger, Calloway and Tulber said, which is a first,” there were one or two titters at the jest but most of the audience were quiet. “What I have to say is simple. Before this ordeal started, before Vashna, Lord Frindolin and Gambon rebelled, Vashna came to me and asked me to join him. He laid out his reasons for losing confidence in King Jacquard and told me of his vision for the future. His argument was compelling and I was on the brink of joining his crusade. I saw no greed in his intended rebellion, only the desire to offer his people a better life and make Frindoth a fairer place to live.

  Nothing that Vashna told me was untrue. King Jacquard had become neglectful of the other regions. He had also lost touch with his people. He was still the just and fair man he always purported to be but increasingly his decisions did not rest well with me or with my people. Of course, with the benefit of hindsight we now know that King Jacquard was being heavily influenced by a sinister force. A force that robbed him of his wife and greatly damaged his sanity.

  I have heard the stories of how the King expunged his demons and then believing he was doing the same, stabbed his wife.”

  There were more gasps from the crowd and Althalos winced. He had ordered the story not to be shared with anyone and wondered how Hamsun had learned of it. He did not think his father’s reputation would recover once news got out of his despicable act.

  Hamsun seemed surprised at the reaction and looked back at the Prince quizzically. Althalos said nothing and allowed Hamsun to figure out for himself why the story had been kept a secret. Realisation dawned on Hamsun’s face and he offered an apologetic smile before turning back to Vashna.

  “When I learned of all that had befallen King Jacquard I felt nothing but pity for the once great man. He had been slowly decimated by Cordane over the years until he was a pale imitation of the King we once knew. As I contemplated this, I began to consider the man opposite me; a man whom I had warred with at the battle of the Basin and a man who was on the side that destroyed my family.

  I’ve had a lot of time to consider things since I returned to Crestfall and more and more I could not see the Vashna I knew condoning such acts. The man opposite me is a proud warrior. He wins wars through blood and guts and tears. He would not hide behind cowardly spells or sorcery.

  Strong heart, focused mind. Victory, right?” Hamsun said. Vashna nodded his agreement but it was a cautious movement. Like most he did not know where Hamsun was going with his speech.

  “I was therefore not in the least bit surprised when I heard Vashna had deserted his own rebellion. A rebellion which saw their own people driven out of their own homes to make way for Lakisdoreans. Vashna saw what his side had become, saw how Cordane operated and decided it was far removed from the vision he had initially wanted. He decided enough was enough and chose to act.

  This made me think, who am I to judge such a man? Unlike my King who allowed Cordane to unwittingly corrode his mind until it was too late, Vashna identified the problem and did something about it. He chose to face the men he had betrayed and kneel before them. He could have kept the Queen hostage to ensure his people’s safety but instead he did the honourable thing and reunited her with her family.

  It sounds as if I am pushing for Vashna to be spared death. I am not. Without his rebellion my family would still be alive. As a man who was tempted to join Vashna at one stage, I only ask you to consider what is this world without redemption? We need Vashna’s army if we are to survive this war. The question the Prince has to ask himself is what price we put on our laws when the fate of our people is at stake?”

  Hamsun finished his speech and gently packed away the jars. Althalos expected him to take a seat with the other Warlords but instead the Warlord of Luciana strode from the room. He picked up his battle axe and hoisted it over his shoulder, the sound of his footsteps retreating down the corridor the only noise as it was when he arrived.

  The Prince stared at the door. His mind was awash with emotion. He had not expected to see Hamsun let alone for him to be a witness. He would have to have words with Hol Stepice about that. Most of all he had not expected Hamsun to speak up on behalf of Vashna. At least he thought that was what Hamsun had done. His speech had descended into confusion in the end. Perhaps that was a reflection of Hamsun’s state of mind? Who could say? The Warlord definitely did not seem interested in the final verdict.

  “Would the Prince like an hour to consider his decision?” Hol Stepice said. His arms were crossed in front of his body and concealed in his robes.

  Althalos felt the weight of hundreds of stares. There was so much to consider outside this room. He was fully aware of the refugee situation and the arrival of the Lakisdoreans as well as keeping track of the sporadic Gloom attacks. The trouble was he only had endless speculation as to what it all meant. The refugees had not ventured beyond Shangon and were therefore beyond his reach currently, the Lakisdoreans had not crossed the Great Canyon as of yet and the Glooms proved too elusive. His focus had been on fortifying Lilyon’s walls again in case Cordane invaded. He needed time and time was the one thing he did not possess.

  “My Prince, I asked if you would like an hour.”

  “No,” Althalos said quietly and then said it again so the whole atrium could hear. “I have made my decision.”

  An excited buzz filled the air
as the audience whispered and speculated. Next to him Fyfe looked concerned. Althalos stood and the room fell silent.

  “My father appointed me to lead Frindoth in his absence. Since then I like to think you have chosen to follow me willingly. Therefore, my decision in this matter is final. Not all of you may like it but you will accept it. You have agreed to this trial and therefore by default you must honour the outcome.”

  The Prince paused to see if anyone objected. Tulber and Unger both looked worried but said nothing. Vashna chewed his bottom lip. The Prince nodded at him in an attempt to communicate that he would not delay his verdict unnecessarily.

  “The law in this situation is crystal clear. All usurpers to the crown should be executed. The problem we face is that by killing Vashna we lose a major ally in our fight against a greater enemy. Is upholding the law worth losing this war? Some might argue not, I on the other hand would rather die having obeyed the laws of my land and honoured the rules set by my ancestors.”

  Breshanel rose to object but General Wray pulled her back down to sit. Vashna’s wife settled glaring at Althalos.

  “I once read a story that was one of my grandfather’s favourites,” Althalos said, ignoring the confused looks of his audience at the perceived tangent he seemed to have started on. He walked to the centre of the room and turned slowly as he spoke to address everyone. “In this story a rich merchant was accused of killing three children. Everyone knew he had committed the crime but the laws of the land dictated that the rich merchant could let the Gods decide his fate through a Justice Joust. The rich merchant could nominate a champion to fight another on his behalf. If the champion won he would be declared innocent in the eyes of the Gods. If his champion lost, his life would be forfeit. Even at a young age I saw the flaw in the Justice Joust. The rich merchant of course paid for the best knight in the land to fight for him and win the contest thus securing his freedom.