“Unless there is something else that must be brought to our attention, this trial is-” King Edric begins once everyone is looking at him. He pauses when Dariana stands and clears his throat, the silver-haired woman putting her hands behind her back. “Do you have something important to say, defense? I will remind you that we have gone through all of the witnesses and seen the reenactment. There should not be anything else.”
“Some new information has been revealed, so I would like to recall one witness for extra questioning,” Dariana politely requests while walking toward the ruler. She stops within reach of the muscular barbarian, but lets her arms dangle at her sides. “I promise that this has bearing on the case. It should bring some things to light and make the verdict very definitive when you hand it down. May I recall this witness?” She waits for the judge to gesture for her to continue and takes a deep breath. “I ask that King Edric retake the stand!”
The furious barbarians shout and curse for several minutes while their leader remains in his seat. Dariana refuses to move even when boots and other random objects fly out of the crowd, several projectiles harmlessly striking her in the back. Aside from Edric, Udelia and Timoran are the only quiet citizens in the courthouse, the pair taking a moment to stare at each other for the first time in days. Neither of them know what is going on, so they can only shrug and watch what happens. Dariana never looks away from the calm ruler as he strokes his beard and lets his people release their frustrations. Holding up his hand for silence, Edric undoes his cape and moves to the witness box.
“Thank you. Every Snow Tiger King travels to Aintaranurh to claim a piece of jade for their crown, right?” Dariana asks, noticing the man tensing at the question. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Udelia stand and prepare to step in. “This is only me clarifying some information. I assume King Edric did this soon after the battle. With General Godric dead, the throne was open and it would be claimed by whoever went to Aintaranurh first. By the way, did you know there’s a scroll in the library that lists the names of everyone who goes there?”
“What you say is true,” Edric proudly answers, his muscles relaxing slightly. With a small wave, he has the sheriff sit back down and leans forward while interlacing his fingers. “This is a simple question and I have someone to support me. I went to Aintaranurh along with Sheriff Kalten. She saw me go into the Hollowed Hill and come out with the jade crown. We went a week after King Melich and General Godric were buried. I was also aware of the scroll that reveals the names of all who enter Aintaranurh. Though I have never read it because the same information can be found in various books.”
The telepath grins and pulls Nyx’s message out of her pocket, slowly unfolding it to make the witness’s anxiety grow. “Not exactly. The books only discuss those who are known to have gone into the hill in search of a crown. As I said, the ancient scroll lists everyone who goes to Aintaranurh. This is done by magic, which means there is no outside interference. More importantly, this document includes anyone of the tribe who comes within a certain distance of the doorway. This is regardless of their intention, so the scroll noted that Sheriff Kalten traveled with you. I assume she waited outside.”
“She will not deny this.”
“Of course she won’t because there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Then what are these questions about?”
Dariana shakes the parchment and walks to Udelia, letting her opponent read the simple message. The barbarian’s eyes go wide and her hands shake as she gives the paper back to the silver-haired woman. A loud murmur runs through the crowd and the jurors anxiously shift in their chairs at the sight of the sheriff sitting in stunned silence. Dariana puts a comforting hand on her opponent’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze that makes her knuckles ache.
“The scroll mentioned that you went to Aintaranurh twice after the battle,” the champion declares, handing the message to the jurors. They pass the evidence around, each one looking at the King as they finish reading. “The second time was with Sheriff Kalten and that’s when you returned with the crown. So, what was the first time? Did you attempt to enter and then turn back for some reason? That’s not hard to believe since you lost many friends in the battle and would have wanted to accept the challenge with a clearer mind. After all, Aintaranurh must be dangerous in order to choose a new leader for the tribe.”
“That it is,” King Edric replies as he adjusts his crown. Seeing everyone look at the circlet, his face goes red with anger. “I wanted to create peace and order in the wake of a tragedy. When I went to Aintaranurh alone, I was angry and hurt. Those emotions would have gotten me killed, so I turned back to wait for my rage and grief to subside. Sheriff Kalten came with me to offer support and act as a witness. It appears that this line of questioning has nothing to do with the case at hand. Justify this or I will end the trial.”
“This is all about honesty and your character, which is the basis for a witness’s influence over a jury,” Dariana answers, nervously rubbing the opal at her neck. Reading the message again, she pushes away the thought that this would be easier with her powers. “Every Snow Tiger King and Queen who has earned the throne has had a unique crown. There has never been a repeated design according to a book that I’m sure you’ve read. After all, you had to include your own crown and signature in there. Now each ruler and their personalized crown is buried near Aintaranurh. So why is your circlet identical to the one worn by King Melich?”
Edric roars as he stands and kicks the front of the witness stand to pieces, the crowd erupting in a mess of noise. “Arrest this woman and lock her up with the traitor! Do it or I will end this in an uncivilized manner! Nobody, especially an outsider, accuses the Snow Tiger King of grave robbing and lying about his station. You and the traitor will await my decision in regards to your fate. Take them away, Sheriff Kalten! Now!”
Udelia calls for her guards to escort Timoran through the side door, the hurried warriors forgetting to replace his manacles. Sneaking out of the nearest exit, the jurors make a quick escape before anybody decides to drag them into the riot. The enraged crowd is hurling furniture and fighting amongst themselves, several of those in the front leaping the barrier to charge Dariana. Wielding a chair leg like a small club, Sheriff Kalten fends off the attacking citizens and roughly grabs the telepath by the shirt collar. Tucking the woman under her arm, Udelia bolts for the door and barrels through the waiting mob that her men are already struggling to contain.
“Did you plan on plunging Stonehelm into anarchy?” the towering woman asks as they clear the crowd. “I don’t know if I should hate or respect you.”
“Would it help if I say I’m sorry?”
Udelia stops and drops the champion on the ground, the barbarian unable to stop herself from laughing. Extending her hand, she gingerly helps Dariana to her feet and continues escorting her new prisoner to the jail.
*****
Luke’s search for the mystery witness has brought him into the wilderness with the hopes of finding signs of someone living outside of Stonehelm. After a full day of talking to the locals about the rumor and their thoughts on Timoran, he is sure that this person would not be within the city. That is if this witness truly exists and he is not chasing the creation of a drunk who he has not seen since their first encounter. Following every footpath and faded hunting trail, Luke has finally come across a wooded area hidden between four hills. A small pond is a perfect gathering place for thirsty animals, which would attract predators and local hunters. Noticing sunlight reflecting off something red in the grass, the half-elf crouches next to the splotch of blood and touches it to find the liquid is still damp. Glancing over his shoulder, Luke spots a camouflaged platform between two of the trees and relaxes a little. The only remaining question is if this is the work of an outsider or the barbarians use this spot to gather meat.
With a sniff of the air, Luke picks up a strong scent and crawls along the ground to examine a faint trail in the grass. There are a few more spots of
blood that tells him an animal was dragged away from the pond instead of carried. He is about to think that this is the work of a mountain lion or a snow tiger when his hand touches a leathery object. Luke holds the broken bootlace in front of his face before tucking it into his pocket. Following the slightly matted grass to the edge of the wooded area, he finds a faint shoeprint in a pile of animal droppings. Sitting on his haunches and sniffing the breeze, he tries to detect the same smell from before, but finds that it has already vanished.
“They weren’t kidding when they said mystery witness,” Luke whispers as he walks back into the woods. Clambering up a tree, he perches himself on the hunting platform and tries to imagine what happened. “This specific kill could still be a big cat. Although whatever did this walked in and out along the same path, which is very human. I don’t see any place that is matted from a predator waiting in ambush, but it could have stayed in the bushes. Yes, I know it could have been an attack from the sky, which wouldn’t leave any evidence. Let’s not make this any more complicated than it already is, guys. A human would be waiting up here with a bow and shoot once their prey settled in for a drink. I can see some blood on a rock at the edge of the pond, but there isn’t that much of a splatter. No sign of a struggle either, so it would have been an immediate death. Too clean for a wild predator, but not unheard of. The strange thing is that the animal was dragged away instead of being cut up for easier transport.”
“Perhaps they use every piece or this person wished to leave little evidence,” the griffin suggests from inside Luke’s mind. A small debate of hisses and growls breaks out, the argument ending with a roaring screech. “The snake fiend is asking to have a name again. He feels that if you are to use his abilities then he deserves one.”
“That vibration sense is very handy when used with my sound sight,” the half-elf admits while wishing the spirits would focus. A wisp of white hair catches his attention, the thin strand caught on a high branch. “I promise to talk to Delvin when we reunite because he’s better at this than me. He named Lucy after all. Now let’s concentrate on finding out if this is the person we’re after or if I’m chasing my tail. No, Stiletto, that isn’t a good use of our time. I’m starting to regret agreeing to you three voicing your opinions.”
All of Luke’s senses twitch when he hears heavy footfalls coming from the south, the sounds becoming muted when the travelers step onto the thick grass. Remaining on the camouflaged platform, he peers through the branches to see a group of five barbarians walk into view. The half-elf recognizes them as some of the guards, but he remains in the trees when he notices that their weapons are drawn. The bald leader hunkers down to examine the blood splotch, his thick fingers touching the substance and bringing a drop to his lips. He shrugs and wipes his hand on his leather armor, satisfied that it is not poisonous and does not belong to their prey. Taking a big sniff of the air, the barbarian scans the branches and pauses for an instant on the platform.
“Luke Callindor! Your presence has been requested by King Edric!” the man says in a booming voice that scares away the local birds. All of the barbarians examine the trees while one stares into the pond to see if the half-elf is submerged. “We have been tasked to bring you in for questioning. An incident has occurred with your friends and they need your help. I promise it will not take long and you will not be harmed.”
“The fact that you mention not harming me makes me think that you will,” Luke replies with a nervous chuckle. He curses under his breath when all five of the men turn in his direction, their sensitive hearing pinpointing his location. “I keep forgetting you guys have strong ears. Would you please explain the incident before I come down? Just so I know what trouble Nyx got herself into.”
“It was not the Near God, but the telepath who caused the incident,” the barbarian replies as he takes a few steps forward. Raising his hand, he signals for the others to lower their weapons and stand at attention. “Your friend has accused King Edric of grave robbing and manipulating his way to the throne. All we want is for you to come back to Stonehelm and talk to her. We are worried that she is being manipulated by our enemies or has gone insane. This is merely a discussion about her history and character.”
Luke sits on the edge of the platform and leans forward to push his face through the broad leaves. “I can answer that right now. She could be having issues because her powers are being blocked. Personally, I doubt that because I know she has learned to compensate for the loss. As far as being manipulated, I pity anyone who tries to turn Dariana into a pawn. All of this means that somebody gave her information, which has brought the King under suspicion. She wouldn’t make an accusation without being sure. She’s far too polite and cautious. Maybe you should check out the supposed grave that he supposedly robbed to see if what he supposedly took is actually missing.”
The guards mutter and whisper amongst themselves, their agitation evident in how they grip their weapons. Not wanting to be cornered in the trees, Luke leaps to the ground and moves to stand near the pond. It is not very deep, but it is wide enough for him to use as an obstacle in case the barbarians decide to get aggressive. Not wanting to make the situation worse or be caught off-guard, the forest tracker keeps his hands near his saber hilts and bounces on his toes in preparation of having to run.
“What is so important that you would abandon your friends?” the bald man asks, revealing he has a clearer head than the others. When one of them attempts to step forward, he snarls and shoves the man back. “Dariana may be executed alongside the traitor. Do you not care about her fate?”
“I do care, which is why I’m still here,” Luke answers, backing away as the barbarians fan out. With a dog-like growl, the smaller warrior crouches and gets ready to pounce. “Nyx can handle all of your questions and prevent King Edric from acting hasty. If I find this mystery witness then I can clear Timoran’s name, which should help Dariana too. Somebody was hunting here and they took their prey into the mountains. I need to move quickly before night falls and the trail goes cold.”
“You’re kidding,” a spikey-haired barbarian says as he tries to circle around the pond. When the bald man whistles, the warrior stops and keeps his spear aimed at the half-elf. “Kill sites like this have been found nearby for years. It’s a relatively harmless phantom. Everyone knows about it. The few who have seen the creature say it is a hazy figure, which drags dead animals away to consume their souls. There’s never any physical evidence of the thing. You’re chasing a ghost. A pretty elusive and hungry one too.”
“Great. A phantom is the last thing I need to deal with,” the forest tracker states before remembering the broken bootlace. He flexes one of his fingers, the green-leafed ring making him realize that a ghost would be an easy fight. “You know, I think I’ll track down this thing and see it for myself. I’m pretty good at destroying undead, so consider this a favor from me to your hospitable city. Also an act of good faith to help my friends.”
“King Edric said to take him by force if necessary,” a tattooed barbarian mentions to their leader, who scowls at the revelation of their true orders. The maul in the big-mouthed man’s hand thuds to the ground before he hefts it onto his shoulder. “Just shut up and come quietly. We don’t enjoy our job, but enough people have betrayed the King today. It would help us if you didn’t resist.”
“Couldn’t you say I escaped?”
Their leader runs his hand over his head and sighs, the warrior not wanting this to get any more complicated than it already has. “It is five on one, so nobody would believe that. I’m sorry, but we’ve wasted enough time. Knock him out if you have to, but don’t do any lasting damage. I don’t want to anger that Near God.”
Luke draws his sabers as the barbarians circle around the pond, none of them showing any caution. He ducks the first swing of an axe, wondering how such a weapon would knock him out instead of removing his head. Twisting his body, the nimble half-elf leaps into the air and lands on the head of a charging spearman. Luke flip
s off the man, pushing with enough force to send the warrior tumbling into one of his friends. Ducking and rolling among the other barbarians, he gradually moves away from the pond. With a wide swing of his swords, he forces his enemies to back away and create an opening. Rushing forward, the forest tracker vaults over the water and sprints for the trees as soon as he hits the ground. He can hear the five warriors barreling after him, but they are too far away to get around the pond in time. The forest tracker is about to leap for a low branch when a sixth enemy bursts from the thick bushes and grabs him. With an echoing roar, the hairy man slams Luke onto the grass and delivers a stunning stomp to the champion’s stomach.
“You’re faster and more agile than us, so we needed a way to catch you. It would have been better if you came quietly,” the bald barbarian says as he crouches over Luke. Hearing a continuing shout, his eyebrow arches and he glances at the man who subdued their target. “That was a pretty big roar, Panir. Do your battle cries normally echo for so long?”
“No, sir,” the hairy warrior replies, picking leaves out of his knotted beard. “I don’t think that’s my voice.”
The battle cry becomes louder until it seems to come from every direction and sends ripples through the water. At the height of the noise, a muscular form bursts from the trees and tackles the bald barbarian. Unable to defend himself, the man is knocked unconscious after taking a restrained blow from a heavy club. Not wasting time, the attacker dives into the others and has two of them sprawled on the ground before the remaining three can lift their weapons. The maul-wielding guard swings at the other warrior, but his hammer is caught by the hilt before the butt is driven into his forehead. The man’s eyes roll back and he collapses in a heap as one of his companions is struck in the gut. The mysterious warrior’s club shatters over the man’s ribs, the impact sending him toppling into the pond where his head hits the bottom and he floats on his back.
Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) Page 20