A man sporting a short-cropped beard with blond hair hanging below the rim of his pot helm rode just ahead of his platoon. "Halt, in the name of the King and Duke William, Lord of Brightridge."
Borik pulled on the reins and urged the horses to bring the wagon to a halt.
"What is the problem, good sir?" Maude asked in the most polite tone that any of them had ever heard her use.
"I am Captain Jorgenson, Captain of Duke William's regional highway guard. Are you recently come from Duskshire?"
"Yeah, we came by Duskshire a few days ago. Is that a crime now?" Borik demanded.
"Borik, shut up and let me handle this!" Maude insisted. "Yes, sir, we have recently came from Duskshire where we, Maude's Marauder's, heroically liberated the fine people of that town from an evil, possibly undead menace, that kidnapped, enslaved, and oppressed the folk.”
"I see.” Captain Jorgenson looked over his shoulder. “Bring Lord Preston forward."
The spindly old man wearing dark clothes and a black cloak rode forward on a black horse at the Captain's bequest. His hawkish eyes opened wide when he recognized who stood before him.
"That's them! Those are the ruffians who broke into my mansion, killed my guards, and probably stole everything not nailed down!" the old man screeched, pointing a bony, accusing finger at the party of adventurers, his eyes bulging in rage.
Captain Jorgenson nudged his horse forward and threw back a corner of the tarp covering their plunder. "Lord Preston, does any of this belong to you?"
"Yes, all of it! That is my silver; those are my tapestries, paintings, and chests. And those are my horses as well as the wagon that filthy dwarf has under his backside!"
Maude hissed at Malek. "I thought vampires burned up in sunlight? He doesn't look like he's burning to me!"
"And he doesn't have sharp, pointy teeth neither," Borik added. "In fact, he doesn't look like he has many teeth at all."
"This does not look good," Malek said.
"By the authority granted me by Duke William, Lord of Brightridge, bestowed to his Grace by King Jarvin Ollander, ruler of all Valeria, I place you under arrest for assaulting the lawful Lord of Duskshire, trespassing, theft of property, horse theft, attempted murder of a lawful Lord of Valeria, and assault!"
"Oh crap," Maude muttered under her breath.
"You will surrender your weapons and not resist. If your wizard attempts to cast a spell he will be shot," the Captain promised as the guards pointed crossbows at the party.
It took two days of travel before the group crossed through Brightridge’s massive main gate. The guards had been professional and treated them reasonably well. Their horses were stabled while the prisoners were led through a small iron gate at the base of the tall outer wall of the castle. The air became noticeably cooler as they descended several flights of stairs. A few torches stuck into sconces lit the gloomy passage in a wavering orange light. The odor of old straw, sweat, fear, and human waste permeated the air. A few cries of fellow prisoners sounded from behind cell doors.
"I can't believe this happening. I became a priest of Solarian to help people, not rob them and get arrested," whined the cleric dejectedly.
"Pfft, you became a priest of Solarian to keep from having to marry that blacksmith's daughter when he caught you with her in his barn," Borik sniped.
"What do you think is going to happen to us?" Malek asked, changing the subject.
Tarth answered, "Hm, well let's see. The penalty for stealing from a lord is hanging, for assaulting a lord is hanging, for breaking into his manor with the intent to rob him is hanging. For setting fire to his manor is hanging, and…, oh, for misusing chapter twenty-three, paragraph four, subset a through f of the charter of the adventurers’ guild, is hanging,” the elf informed the group, ticking off each charge on his long, slender, nail painted fingers.
The sound of a key turning the lock of Maude and Tarth's cell door brought a halt to their dark conjecture. A plump man wearing well-made, cotton-spun robes entered the cell. He nodded his nearly bald pate to Maude and introduced himself.
"Good day, lady and gentlemen and…" he started with a smile but dropped it when he gazed at blue-haired elf sitting on a stone bench who was frowning at one of the holes in his robes created by a quarrel. “Ahem, well then, I am Lord Tarsley, your assigned counselor. I am here to prepare the defense for your trial."
"I'm glad to see we are actually getting a trial," Maude said.
"Yes, we are quite civilized in Brightridge. In fact, the King is coming to witness the proceedings and will institute its form of law throughout the kingdom if he approves of it," Lord Tarsley said proudly. "Now let me verify all of your names, and then we will proceed to putting together your defense."
"I'm Maude Ballister, that's Borik Deepstone, Malek Barthalis, and Tarthanalis Moonglow," Maude replied.
"Now, you are a cleric of Solarian are you not," Lord Tarsley asked Malek.
"Yes I am. I would never have knowingly committed these crimes."
"Oh good, so you are a cleric in good standing with the temple then?"
"Um, well, pretty much I guess. It's been a while since I was sent out."
"You were sent out of your church?"
"Yes, but it was as a sabbatical to destroy the legions of undead plaguing the kingdom, you see."
"Begging your pardon, but I do not see. I have never seen the dead walk, nor do I know anyone who has witnessed such a horror. Have you seen any undead terrorizing the countryside?"
"Yes! In a crypt we were exploring," Malek shouted.
"And why were you in the crypt?"
"To plunder its riches, obviously. That's what adventurers do. Oh, and to bring glory to great Solarian by destroying the unnatural creatures of course," Malek added hastily.
"I see; you were attacked by undead guardians after breaking into the final resting place of someone's ancestors in order to plunder the valuables left to the departed by their loved ones. Is that a correct assessment?"
"Well, not the way you say it," the cleric said, crossing his arms and pouting.
"I think it would be best if you remain silent during the trial," Tarsley suggested. "Now, Maude, why don't you tell me how this all came about."
“A woman approached us in the bar, made claims of how the townsfolk had been enslaved or disappeared, and that the laird was a tyrant practicing necromancy and was a vampire feeding on the people of Duskshire.”
"And what evidence were you able to obtain to support these claims?" the counselor asked.
"We interviewed several people, and nearly all of them supported the claims made by the woman and several other people at the inn. Everyone knew of his wife and son, but no one had seen either of them in decades. They said they heard screams coming from within the mansion around the time they vanished."
"I see, so numerous supporting claims of evil doings by the people was the basis upon which you justified your actions and assumed the authority granted to you by the adventurers’ guild charter."
"Yes. Do you think there is any hope for our defense?"
"I should like to think so; you may have acted on poor judgment but with good faith. Many of the townsfolk are being summoned to appear to give testimony, and much will depend upon what they say."
After several more questions, Lord Tarsley wrapped up his interview and went to work on his clients’ defense. "I'll return if I have more questions once I interview the witnesses from Duskshire.”
Borik glared at Maude through the bars of his cell. “See, this is why I wanted to quit this idiotic adventuring crap! Now we’re gonna swing for sure.”
“No one made you sign up for it!” Maude shouted back. “We’re going to have a fair trial, and they’ll see that we acted in good faith as adventurers are meant to do.”
“What adventurers?” Borik roared. “No one does this anymore! No one is going to give an orc’s ass about some charter signed by a centuries dead king legalizing activities that ain’t been pr
acticed for a hundred years!”
“We are a legitimate adventurer party!”
Borik crossed his arms and sat down heavily upon his bench. “I’ll be sure they carve that in our headstones. It will be a perfect epitaph for perfect bunch of morons.”
Three days later, Lord Tarsley returned to the cells. "I trust you have been treated well? You have not lacked for food or drink?" the barrister asked.
"No, all things considered, we are well enough," Maude replied.
"Good, now I have had the opportunity to interview several witnesses from the town, and they support much of what you have told me, and that is good for our defense. I also sent two of my assistants to investigate the mansion, and they have informed me that you did not actually kill or even seriously injure anyone in your raid, and that is very good indeed. Overall, I think we may be able to provide an adequate defense given the unusual circumstances. It is apparent that Lord Preston was not a well-liked man, and we may be able to use that to sway the judge. Many townsfolk are claiming hardship and cruelty under his oppressive rule. If we can convince the judge of his cruelty, it can only help to ease whatever sentence they may impose on any charge for which they find you guilty."
"You think they'll find us guilty?"
"Of that I am almost certain. Regardless of your good intentions, it still stands that Lord Preston is the lawful laird of Duskshire. My primary job now is to minimize the number of charges you will be tried for and gain you leniency for any you will be found guilty of."
"I see, thank you."
"The King has arrived as well, and your trial will begin on the morrow."
The counselor left Maude and her crew alone in their gloomy cells once again.
"Don't worry, we've been through some tough scrapes before and gotten away more or less in one piece. Lord Tarsley seems a decent sort and clever in his own right. He'll get us out of this, I'm sure," Maude reassured her group. "Tarth, how are you holding up?"
The elf just sat in his corner, pale-faced and trying not to touch anything around him. He would occasionally bring a fold of his robe to his nose and wince but otherwise said and did nothing. The passage of time within the windowless cell was interminable. It seemed an eternity before the guards brought the prisoners out of the dungeon, let them wash, and was presented before the court.
They sat on a bench at the front of the large courtroom. A man in a powdered wig sat behind a large desk set upon a dais several feet above the courtroom floor. A scribe sat off to one side near an empty chair just forward and to one side of the dais.
The adventurers looked around and saw that the courtroom was packed full of spectators. They took note of private viewing box built above the dais and screened in for privacy. Maude assumed the King was likely observing the proceedings from this lofty perch.
"Your Majesty, Lords and Ladies, nobles and commoners; let the trial of Brightridge versus Maude's Marauders now commence. The honorable Lord Highworth presiding," the bailiff shouted in a loud, clear voice.
"Prosecution, please give us your opening statement," Lord Highworth instructed.
A young man in the formal robes of office stepped forward and addressed the judge and the assembled spectators. "My Lord and fellow citizens, today I will prove beyond doubt that this band of ruffians," he said while pointing at the defendants, "willfully attacked the lawful laird of the quaint but lovely town of Duskshire and sacked his Lordship's home. While commencing their heinous crime, they brutally assaulted a score of Lord Preston's hired protectors, vandalized his residence, stole his property to include two of his valuable horses, set fire to his bed chamber, and for some perverted reason, his privy closet."
"That was an accident!” Borik shouted. “I thought he may have hidden jewels down the privy hole, and the torch set the lacquered wood of the seat on fire!"
"Quiet! There is no defense or objections allowed during opening statements. Now sit down, sir!" the judge commanded, banging his gavel for order.
"My Lords and Ladies, I will bring forth the poor man whose home was invaded, his safety and his very life threatened, and his possessions stripped from him. He will give testimony to the terror he endured at the hands of the defendants. It is my intent that his words sway our esteemed Lord Highworth to find them guilty and sentence them to hang."
"Lord Tarsley, if you please, sir," the judge invited.
"My Lord and fellow citizens, my clients do not deny the terrible accident that has occurred to the esteemed Lord Preston. What I will do today is show that it was a case of a great mistake brought about by rumors and wives' tales from his Lordship's own people. My clients acted under false information and with the best of intentions. I intend to prove that they are also victims of a great misunderstanding and that, while their intentions may not absolve them of civil liability, it must release them from criminal culpability," Lord Tarsley concluded and resumed his seat.
"Prosecutor, please introduce your first witness," the judge commanded.
"My Lord, I call Lord Preston, laird of the town of Duskshire, to the stand."
The hunched old man entered the courtroom through the ornate double doors at the rear of the vast justice chamber. He strode purposefully toward the witness chair, glaring daggers at the people who had recently disrupted his life.
"My Lord, are you the lawful lord of Duskshire?"
"I am."
"When did you assume lordship of Duskshire?"
"I inherited the responsibility from my father and was confirmed by his highness, King Rayburn forty-three years past."
"My Lord," the prosecutor said, addressing the judge, "I would like to submit Lord Preston's confirmation decree signed by His Majesty, King Rayburn, grandfather of King Jarvin, granting him lawful authority of the town of Duskshire," the prosecutor said, holding up a sheaf of papers.
"Lord Preston, you say your home was invaded and you were forced to flee in fear of your life?" the prosecutor asked his witness.
"That's right. It was shortly after breakfast."
"Did you see the faces of the people who attacked you?"
"Yes, except for the big one, she wore a full helm, but I recognize her voice," the old man answered.
"And do you see them in this courtroom today, Lord Preston?"
"Yes, that's them sitting there," the laird replied, pointing a bony finger at Maude's group.
"I have no more questions, My Lord."
"Lord Tarsley, your witness."
The portly defense counselor strode toward the witness bench and addressed the bitter-looking old man. "Lord Preston, have you ever been involved in the dark arts or necromancy?"
"Of course not, that is absurd!"
"We shall see. Have you ever abducted any of your townsfolk or held them against their will?"
"I have indentured some who have failed to pay their taxes or to work off a minor crime over the years as is my right."
"Indeed, we shall see. Lord Highworth, I have no more questions for this witness."
"Prosecutor, call your next witness."
"I call Sergeant Cooperson to the stand, My Lord." Maude recognized the gate guard from the manor take the stand. "Sergeant, please describe what you remember of the events of the day in question."
"I had charge of the gates with instructions that My Lord not be disturbed. I seen that dwarf there dressed all flashy and strange like," he said and pointed at Borik, "and that elf there dressed, well, pretty much the same as he is now. They both approached the gate and said they was mummers and wanted to put on a show for the amusement of Lord Preston. Well, I know that milord is not a man amused by anything, so I ordered them to be off. But instead of leaving, they start dancin’ around all weird like. The elf made little balls of light fly around and the dwarf was tumbling about like he was having some sort of fit. I shouted at them to take their foolery away or my men and I would remove them by force. The dwarf started cursing me and calling me foul names, saying that my mother copulated with a bugbear and that
I was what was pulled out with a wire hook but was too stupid to die."
Angry mutters filled the courtroom behind them.
"Go on, Sergeant, then what happened?"
"Me and several of my men charged out the gate to drive em off, but we suddenly came under an enchantment, probably from that strange elf. The next thing I knew, I was trussed up like a pig fit to be roasted next to my men. A couple of hours later, some of the townsfolk came by and cut us free."
"Thank you, Sergeant. I have no more questions."
"Your witness, counselor."
"I have no questions at this time, My Lord," Lord Tarsley responded.
"Next witness if you please," the judge instructed.
"My Lord, I call guardsman first-class Ireson to the stand," the prosecutor continued. "Guardsman, please tell us what you recall of the events on the day in question."
"My Lords, I was responsible for the security of Lord Preston and the inside of his manor. I was walking my usual rounds when the kitchen staff burst into the sitting room screaming about intruders. I sent several men into the dining hall from which the staff had emerged and held several of my guards back in the sitting room to take up positions with crossbows to intercept anyone who got past my men. I heard sounds of battle as my men engaged the intruders. A few moments later, that lot there burst through the door. Me and my men fired our crossbows, but they ducked aside and charged us. We fought a retreating battle up the stairs, but the intruders overmatched us and brought us down. The dwarf tied us up and gagged us as the other three burst into Lord Preston's chambers. I heard an awful scream then heard my Lord running past with them following. They looted the house and set My Lord's bedchamber on fire."
"Objection, My Lord. Mister Ireson was blindfolded at the time and had no way of knowing who ran past, he never saw my clients remove anything from the manor, or set anything on fire," Lord Tarsley defended.
"Sustained. The witness assumes it was the defendants given the circumstances and what he previously witnessed. You may proceed."
The Sorcerer's Path Box Set: Book 1-4 Page 73