Which would likely be the case, for Glanen would not betray his principles, either.
On his way back home, he chose an alternate route, for he wanted to avoid being recognized. He didn't want anyone else knowing that he visited Aasimah. The secret he carried with him was a terrible one, and he would have to be very careful about how he chose to act upon it. So many potential lives hung in the balance. Glanen found himself responsible for civilian lives quite frequently as a knight, but this was such a messy situation, one that promised no happy ending.
Still, despite his desire for secrecy, he couldn't help taking a slight detour. He wasn't sure why, exactly, but he found himself being almost drawn to the central square of Aranaot. It was stupid, of course; if he was seen, he would very easily be recognized. It was so late now, and as far as his father knew, he was back home. If he was spotted, if his father was alerted to the fact that he'd been out like this, there was no way he wouldn't be able to put two and two together, and how much more trouble might Aasimah be in, then?
And yet... He could not shake the most persistent feeling that this was where he was meant to be, right now.
He picked up his pace, the abrupt sense of urgency overtaking him. He broke out into a run, no longer caring about whether he might be seen or not. When at last he reached his destination, it became very clear to him.
Glanen watched, breathlessly, as a group of workers set about connecting several tall wooden frames. He didn't have to wait to see what they were constructing, for he knew all too well.
Chapter 22
Treason
∞∞∞
The more logical part of his mind knew that Glanen was right. Adsuni knew that, somewhere deep down. He knew, and that was what hurt him the most. He called Aasimah's kind monsters, and by that, he was even calling her a monster, but if he were to be completely honest, he believed himself to be the greater one in that moment.
But she lied to him. Glanen, the man he knew and trusted for nearly his entire life, lied to him. How could he forgive them, after that? Aasimah was one thing... he felt something for her, he couldn't deny that, but he had only known her for a half year or so. With Glanen, it was different.
Glanen might not have been of the same blood as him, but he was still family.
He was family.
Not so much, now. Not since Adsuni rejected him.
Adsuni couldn't believe it was possible for one person to feel so much pain. He was almost surprised that he was still alive, that he did not succumb to the weight of it all. Who could he trust, now? Not a single person he knew was what they appeared to be. With each new day, he found himself uncovering more lies, and wondering when it would end. The one person he thought he could trust above all others, the one person that kept him firmly anchored to reality, finally turned against him.
The prince was getting ready to turn in for the night. His father respectfully kept his distance, allowing him some time to think about all that happened. Punishment for his disobedience would come later – or, perhaps, his father would consider the day's revelations to be more than enough. Adsuni felt he'd learned his lesson, certainly; if he had just let Aasimah go, he could have remembered her differently. He could have remembered her as a friend, and he could have kept his friendship with Glanen.
He could almost hear his former-friend calling to him.
No... he could hear his former-friend calling to him! Adsuni stopped short of the door, turning to look around. He waited for a while, glancing around suspiciously. When nothing else happened, he started to head back inside.
“My prince!”
Adsuni turned around again, thoroughly agitated, and yet also relieved, for Glanen was indeed there, trotting up to him. Did he sneak his way through?
The prince was not over his feelings of betrayal, however. He regarded his friend-turned-traitor with cold disapproval.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Save it,” Glanen said, catching him off guard. Since when did Glanen become so blunt and defiant? If anyone had a reason to speak in such a manner, it was surely Adsuni, and not this traitor.
“You forget your place—”
“Aasimah is going to die tomorrow!”
Adsuni inhaled sharply, falling back slightly against the door frame. “What – this soon?”
Glanen nodded grimly. He was panting; he must have been running to get back! All color had drained from the young man's face, leaving him with a sickly appearance. Despite himself, Adsuni could not help reaching out to him. Glanen pulled away, and the prince's regretfully allowed his hand to drop to his side.
“There will be no trial, prince. They're... they're going to hang her, I'm sure of it.”
“Maybe they're just preparing to hang the other prisoner.”
“He wasn't there, prince! I went to the jail... He wasn't there. It was half-empty, save for Aasimah, a few elderly peasants, and a boy.”
Adsuni suddenly felt cold, as though a bucket of icy water had been upended over his head. A boy – could it be?
“Glanen, what did that boy look like? Tell me!”
“He had one eye, prince. He was so frail... I doubt they've been really feeding them, beyond mere scraps. There is no doubt in my mind, prince – that child, that boy is the same one that my father sent to be locked up.”
Adsuni sank to the ground, his knees too weak and wobbly to continue supporting him. He slumped against the cool stone column, and Glanen crouched down to meet him at eye level. They were silent for a long moment, both deeply reeling from horror.
“They wouldn't execute a child, would they, Glanen?”
The knight seemed unsure, and that was enough for Adsuni.
“Not publicly... can you imagine the outcry? No, they would to keep it secret. But Aasimah...”
Glanen was staring at him oddly, then. He was thinking about something, holding it back. Adsuni wasn't sure he wanted to know anything else. He'd much rather live in ignorance, at this point. Go back to the somewhat happy life he had before. Oh, how he missed it all! Even yesterday seemed like so long ago.
“What is it?” he asked, knowing he was going to regret it.
The knight remained silent for a while, choosing his next words carefully.
“You have to make a choice, prince. You cannot be in the middle on this dilemma. You must either take a stand for what is just, and protect these people, or you must allow them to die, knowing that you would have been able to spare them.”
“Glanen, what you're saying is...” Adsuni struggled. His friend saw the world in extremes. There was right and there was wrong. There was good and evil. The way he made it all sound, it almost seemed like a simple choice.
But for Adsuni, it was not so simple. What Glanen did not realize was that he was asking Adsuni to choose between his loyalty to his family and his loyalty to his people. And his loyalty to his friends. No matter what he did, Adsuni was betraying someone he cared for.
“It isn't easy,” Glanen said, bearing down on him. “I know that! There will be consequences no matter whom you side with. You stand to lose everything and gain nothing, no matter which you choose. You must know, as... as hard as this all is, as much as this hurts... I am still your knight, and I will stand by you, whether I agree with your decision or not.”
Adsuni said nothing.
His former... no, his friend was right: Whatever happened, Adsuni would surely not come out of it unscathed, in some way. It would be easier to turn his back and let it all happen. He could move on, eventually. Continue on with his life as it was before. It would still be a little different, but he could survive.
Death, though... death was final. Did he have the heart to condemn someone he once considered a trusted ally to the gallows?
***
Adsuni said nothing that morning, at least, nothing beyond what was expected of him. He greeted his father as warmly as he could, wondering if it was he who set the order for the execution. It would make sense, the princ
e supposed. The king didn't have a personal connection to Aasimah. He never even really spoke with her directly, only seeing her once or twice from a distance. He did not know what she was, up until yesterday, and would probably have no qualms about sending her to her death.
Lady Kharqa was there, too, but Adsuni had nothing to say to her at all. He respected his father's decision to court her, but he would never accept her as part of his family. Perhaps she had a hand in all of this? His father's heart was softer than hers – might he have spared Aasimah, if not for her whispering dangerous thoughts into his ears?
It was a bit of an unreasonable assumption to make, for the prince had no proof that she was responsible for any of it. He had only his feelings, and his suspicions. Come to think of it, she did look at Aasimah rather strangely during that first meeting over dinner. Maybe she did know, all along.
Adsuni's heart felt heavy. His stomach clenched painfully, and he found himself running off to use the latrine more often than usual. It was all nerves, he knew. He had the entire night to think over his next course of action, and for the first time, his heart and his mind were of one. He made his decision, and he would see it through, no matter how difficult.
He thought of all he stood to lose.
Why did this have to happen? Could he have done something differently, in the past, to prevent all of this? Might he have been able to lead a happier life, had he just ignored his instincts and, instead, listened to his father?
But, then, he wouldn't have some of his most precious memories to hold onto, either. He wouldn't have helped rebuild homes in Dre'shii, and probably wouldn't have cared much at all about that little village. He wouldn't have met little Raisa. He would have all of his books, but he found that he really didn't mind giving up a few of his childhood favorites, if it meant having another letter of hers to look forward to.
He wished dearly that he could just go back into his office, and read her latest one, but he really didn't have the time.
He must be on his way...
...to the execution.
A crowd had gathered about the Aranaot square, surrounding the executioners, and the condemned – a young woman and a man of similar age, both of them scratched, bruised, and bloodied, and with their hands bound behind their backs.
Public executions brought out the ugliest sides of people. They were primarily a human custom; those who were familiar with the elves and the dwarves knew that both cultures considered the very idea vile. But they were a different lot altogether, and they did not associate themselves with the lowly humans. The people of central Aranaot had no idea whom or what they were demanding justice for, nor did they truly care. They were present for the entertainment factor alone. If they could pat themselves on the back for bearing witness to the justice system at work later on, that was a pleasant bonus.
As long as no one they personally cared about happened to have a noose around their neck, they need not feel guilty for their behavior towards the condemned, and so, they took turns spitting in their direction, jeering at them, and loudly proclaiming that their minutes alive were numbered.
It was an ugly display, one that cut Glanen to the quick.
He recognized many of these faces – these were people that often cheered him on and went out of their way to speak to him whenever he rode into town.
They greeted him at the gates when he returned from his adventures, patted Xanthus, brushed his hair, fed him whatever spare fruits and vegetables they had... How could these very same people, who were often so kind to him, and even his horse, be so cruel toward these strangers that they knew nothing about?
Glanen wasn't sure whether he was glad or not that Adsuni did not join him. He was hurt, to be sure. Though he received no official word from the prince, no orders to let the execution be, his absence was enough of an indicator that the prince had decided not to intervene. Glanen almost wanted his friend to see it all happen – perhaps, then, he would come to his senses, and never allow a similar tragedy to take place in the future.
But at the same time, he was a bit relieved, for he did not want his friend to see the people he chose to protect revealing such a hideous side to themselves. It was a sight that he would never be able to forget, and if he could spare one person such an experience, then he'd gladly do so.
Even if it meant that he would be alone.
Even if it meant that what he was about to do was going to be even more difficult.
He lied to his prince, directly, this time, and he would never be able to take that back. He meant it when he said that he would respect the prince's decision, at least in the sense that he would not try to force the prince to come along with him.
What he didn't tell the prince was that he was still going to do everything he could to stop the execution, with or without his friend's help. Whether he failed or succeeded, Glanen was sure that he would be paying the ultimate price for his act of treason, and he made his peace with that likely outcome. At least he wouldn't live long enough to see what would become of his life-long friend, his father, and his people.
“Are ya sure you want to go along with this?” the woman beside him asked. Her name was Telma, and she was Raisa's mother. Behind them, there were a handful of other people from Dre'shii, and all of them remembered Aasimah.
“Yes, but if you are having any second thoughts—”
“Aw, don't be stupid! We're here with ya 'til the end!” the woman said with a little chuckle.
Glanen felt immensely guilty involving them in this mess, but what other choice did he have? None of his friends from the Knighthood would help, and Adsuni himself turned against Aasimah. That didn't leave Glanen with very many people he could count on. He tried to ask the majority of them to stay back in Dre'shii, but once they heard of the execution, each and every one of them insisted upon joining him.
“Just don't take any unnecessary risks, please,” Glanen begged her. “You have a daughter waiting for you at home, and she's lost enough. All of you have.”
“We'd've lost more if you hadn't come out to help us,” one of the men said. He wasn't wrong; his house was completely destroyed in the raid, and his wife was found near-death. It was thanks to Glanen, and his friends, that his wife survived and his house was rebuilt.
Still, Glanen felt more than a little guilty over calling in such an enormous favor. If even one of these people got injured, he'd never be able to get over it.
“This is gonna get ugly,” Telma put in.
“I'm counting on it,” Glanen said, peeking out from the corner of a large building that they were all hiding behind. It was almost time, and the prince wasn't coming.
Aasimah stood there, under the merciless summer sun, taking all of the hatred from the commonfolk without so much as a flinch. She had rocks heaved in her direction, rotten food splattered on her, and all sorts of terrible words thrown at her. Still, she uttered not a word.
She was not surprised by the outcome, of course. She knew Adsuni would not come to help her, and she suspected that as kind as Glanen was toward her, he would ultimately remain loyal to the prince.
The other person to be executed was the young man from Dre'shii, the one whose “niece” was taken from him. Glanen had been surprised to see him there, until Telma informed him that he'd been responsible for the raid all along, having sold out his neighbors for a hefty sum of coin.
It seemed he was going to be first, for he was led away from her rather roughly. She did not look at him as they put the noose around his neck, knowing that he died only when the crowd gasped – and cheered.
She heard it all, from the creaking of the wooden beams to the swaying of his body. He did not die immediately; he struggled for a moment, gurgling, but it didn't last long.
Next, she found herself being shoved toward the gallows. She did not resist, not when they brought her up, not when the put the noose around her neck. She said nothing and did nothing. Her final moments would be quiet and defiant, and she would not allow them to see
her broken before her imminent demise.
She closed her eyes, feeling the rough coil around her neck, concentrating on it. The rope was scratchy and painful, but it wouldn't last long. She could only hope that her death would be instant, that she would not be left to struggle as the man before her had.
She thought, at one point, that she heard someone say “stop!” But that was absurd. It was wishful thinking, and nothing more. But then she heard the collective gasp of the crowd, followed by angered protest.
That was odd – she should be hearing nothing by now.
She opened her eyes, surprised to see that she was indeed still alive. Ludicrous as it sounded in hindsight, she almost expected to be looking down upon the execution, as if from the gaze of a departing spirit.
The crowd was not watching her, however.
She frowned, and looked to her left. What was going on—?
Adsuni!
“What is this nonsense?” the executioner demanded. That was no way to talk to his prince, but then again, it was not the prince's orders that he had been following earlier.
Adsuni did not look especially confident; he was shaking terribly, and he was sweaty and pale. It was obvious that he hadn't slept at all the night before, and he looked like a madman. He looked, too, like he was weak enough to be blown over by a gust of wind. Some unseen force was keeping him on his feet, some hidden strength that he managed to find within himself.
“I told you to stop!”
“I did!” the executioner protested angrily. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I am your prince, I need not give you any meaning behind my orders! Release the prisoner – immediately!” Adsuni shouted.
One of the nearby guards moved to follow the prince's request, but stopped short at an upraised hand from the executioner.
Dinavhek- The Fall Page 25