by James Wisher
“You seem disheartened,” his mentor said.
Col smiled at the concern in Sir Geris’s voice. For the last six years the elder knight had served as a surrogate father. Not that Col held his father to blame for what happened. When his mother and sister died something in his father broke. Now he was little better than an infant, unable to handle even the most basic tasks. Col forced away the horrible image of his father sitting and staring out the little window in his room, jaw slack, unaware of the world around him.
“The village militia didn’t fill me with confidence.”
“I wish I had something to cheer you up, but unfortunately I have more bad news to share.”
“Great,” Col said. “I need something to take my mind off our impending demise.”
Sir Geris offered a gentle smile. “This is serious, Col. When we return Callion intends to bring charges against you at the knights’ tribunal. He claims you attacked him from behind and he has two witnesses to back him up.”
“Lying bastard! He threw the first punch after he and his cronies jumped me between the stables and barracks. The day I need to attack him from behind is the day I turn in my sword.”
Sir Geris nodded and relief flooded Col. His mentor trusted his word. “Is there anyone who can corroborate your story?”
“No, there were only the four of us. Son of a bitch couldn’t fight his way out of a grain sack so he’s going to use the knight’s tribunal to get at me.”
“It’ll be three against one,” Sir Geris said. “We need to think how we can fight them.”
“I don’t suppose I can request trial by combat?”
Sir Geris shook his head. “That’s only for full knights.”
“Right.” Col tried to remember everything he’d read about the knight’s tribunal. “I’ll ask for a Truthseer to decide the matter,” he said at last.
Sir Geris looked surprised for a moment. “Hardly anyone ever does that, it impugns the honor of the other squires.”
“If they weren’t all lying I wouldn’t have to impugn their honor. I have the right.” This last was as much a question as a statement.
“You certainly do, and if Callion were to try to deny it he would as much as declare he’s lying.”
“If he goes through with it he’ll be proven a liar. Do you suppose he’d just let the matter drop?”
Sir Geris nodded. “That seems most likely. When we get back I’ll mention it to Sir Duros. If he’s as smart as he pretends he’ll recommend to Callion that he drop it.”
“Assuming, of course, that we’re not devoured by wolfmen.”
“Naturally.”
They looked at each other for a moment then started laughing. Col laughed until his sides hurt and tears ran down his face. He couldn’t even say why he laughed. His situation wasn’t at all funny. When he got himself under control he said, “I don’t ask for much. I just want to study and train. That isn’t unreasonable, is it?” He hated the bitterness in his voice but he couldn’t help it.
“No, it isn’t.” Sir Geris blew out a long sigh. “Unfortunately, you will always find people like Callion. People who think their name means more than their ability. The hell of it is they’re often right.”
Col shook his head and let the matter go. He was who he was and nothing would change that.
They spent the rest of the day wandering the village in tense anticipation. Every moment they expected a pack of snarling wolfmen to come charging out of the woods. Dusk was fast approaching when one of the sentries they’d placed shouted, “Someone’s coming!”
Col and his mentor raced to the east side of the village where the warning had come from. “Where?” Sir Geris asked.
The militiaman pointed and in the dim light Col made out a line of figures shuffling toward the village. He wasn’t certain but they didn’t look like wolfmen. A minute longer and it was clear the rest of their patrol was returning.
“At ease,” Sir Geris said. “Those are our boys.”
“That’s all ten of them,” Col said. The men-at-arms walked bent over and looked barely able to put one foot in front of the other.
“Let’s see what they have to say,” Sir Geris said.
They met the men at the gate which had been raised to let them in. The exhausted soldiers staggered in and Sir Geris motioned the sergeant over. “Report.”
The headman had arrived to listen as well. “We trailed them all day, sir. A couple times we got close and I was sure they’d turn and fight, but they double timed it and increased their lead again. An hour ago they took off at a full run away from the village. We’d had it and came to report. It was the damnedest thing, sir, like they were just playing with us.”
Sir Geris chewed his lip, looking troubled and Col shared the feeling. At least they’d survived. “Which way did they go?”
“Back toward the Great Road.”
“Well done, sergeant. Find somewhere for the men to bed down for the night. We’ll head back in the morning.”
The sergeant offered a sharp salute and returned to his men. After a moment’s silence the headman said, “What should we do after you leave?”
“Keep your militia as active as possible. Post lookouts in the hills with bells. If there’s an attack get everyone into the strongest building and defend that one place with all your men. That’s the best advice I can offer.”
“Thank you, sir.” The headman bowed and shuffled off into the village.
The next morning there was still no sign of the beastmen so Sir Geris ordered them to leave the village. Col’s stomach twisted as they rode off. If a large, hell if a medium sized group of beastmen came through they’d slaughter those villagers. Unfortunately, there were only so many soldiers in the kingdom and they couldn’t defend every village.
Col looked back over his shoulder and saw the two boys guarding the gate again with their pointed sticks and cook-pot helmets. He’d never seen a more pathetic sight. “Don’t worry,” Sir Geris said. “There are other groups of hunters. Just because we didn’t get them doesn’t mean one of the others didn’t.”
“Yes, sir,” Col said, not the least reassured.
“Don’t forget you’ve got that matter with Callion to deal with. Best focus on something you have some control over.”
“Thanks for reminding me. Don’t I have enough to worry about without dealing with that clown?”
“Not all challenges can be conquered with a sword. Try thinking of Callion as just another test.”
“Great. I hate tests.”
Chapter Three
Col waited beside his mentor outside the towering, dark-stained doors that led to the tribunal hall. Facing them stood Callion’s knight trainer Sir Duros, a austere man with a salt-and-pepper beard and sad eyes. If Col had to train Callion he’d look sad too.
Col stared, dumbfounded, as Callion’s mentor said, “I told him you intended to call for a Truthseer, but he is adamant that the trial go forward.”
Sir Geris nodded. “Thank you, Sir Duros.” They shook hands and Sir Duros left them standing in the hall.
After he left Col said, “What’s he thinking? Callion knows what happened as well as I do. Does he imagine three liars will outweigh one person telling the truth?”
“If he does he’s mistaken. It doesn’t matter now,” Sir Geris said. “The trial’s scheduled for tomorrow at noon. Just remember you have to be completely honest. Hold nothing back.”
“No problem there, sir. What should I do now?”
“The tribunal ordered you removed from active duty until after the trial. I have to meet with the king in a little while. I suggest you meditate in the chapel of Light. Find your balance and prepare yourself for tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Col said.
Sir Geris clapped him on the shoulder. “Have a little faith. Justice will prevail in the end.” The elder knight walked off toward the war room for his meeting leaving Col alone in the cold gray hall.
Meditating wouldn’t do any good.
Col trudged through the castle halls ignored by and ignoring everyone he met. He needed to figure out what Callion had planned. He had to be up to something since the truth wouldn’t serve him.
Col turned toward the chapel, not because he intended to meditate, but because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go at the moment. He turned a corner and found himself facing the gold-inlayed door to the chapel. May as well go in for a moment. The priest never locked the door, so he nudged it open.
Inside the chapel sunshine streamed in through skylights that covered the whole ceiling, bathing the round room with golden radiance. Lightcasters of centuries past had enchanted the glass to be harder than steel so no stray stone would damage the chapel in a siege. Benches sat in neat rows for anyone to use if they wished to pray. The chapel had no pulpit as the Light never demanded attendance.
“May I help you, squire?”
Col turned to see the keeper of the shrine emerge from the small cell at the back of the chapel where he slept. The keeper wore the traditional white robes of his order and a gold sunburst medallion hung around his neck. “I didn’t mean to bother you, keeper. I needed a quiet place to think.”
“Of course, the chapel is always open to those in need.” He sighed. “We have few visitors so it’s good to see someone stop in. It seems half those visiting only seek a private place to work the will of the Dark. It’s a sad thing that they would foul this holy place with their politics.”
“I’m sorry, keeper. Is there anyone in particular giving you trouble? I can speak to them if you’d like, warn them away.”
The keeper smiled. “You’re very kind, but I’m afraid it would do little good. The nobility do not take warnings well.”
“Especially from peasant squires. I understand.”
“I meant no offense,” the keeper said, a little abashed.
“None taken. Excuse me, keeper, this isn’t where I need to be.” Col left the chapel behind and just wandered the halls for a while. He wracked his brain trying to think what Callion had planned. After a fruitless hour of walking and musing Col needed some fresh air and headed toward the stables. He owed Jack and Joey for their help so maybe a little hard work would clear his mind.
The sun was setting when he finished sweeping the last stall. When he’d arrived at the stables Col smiled at the brothers’ delight when he offered to help. As they worked Col explained his problem, hoping they might have an idea. Joey had suggested a bribe since even priests need to eat. Col deemed that unlikely, but gold would no doubt be involved.
“Sorry we couldn’t be more help, Col,” Jack said.
Col smiled. “Don’t worry, just having your company did wonders for my mood. Whatever comes tomorrow I’m ready to face it. Good night.”
“Give’em hell tomorrow, Col.” Joey said.
Col grinned and turned toward the barracks and his room. At least he had a few people rooting for him.
* * *
Noon came far too soon for Col and at the same time the morning had seemed to drag on forever. He and Sir Geris stood before the dark oak door of the tribunal chamber much as they had yesterday. Today, however, they wore their best dress uniforms, horrid, itchy things in crimson and gold, and matching grim frowns.
As they waited to be called in Sir Geris said, “I spoke to the keeper, he said you didn’t stay long in the chapel.”
“No, sir. I helped Jack and Joey clean the stables. Not exactly meditation but it cleared my head. Whatever Callion’s planning I’ll be ready.”
The door swung open and the herald announced them. They walked down a short path marked by a red carpet running between rows of benches where all the squires and knights sat. One hundred and twenty-five men and boys sat, rigid and straight, to watch the trial. No outsiders, even royals, were welcome to attend. This was the knights’ business and they would handle it themselves.
At the front of the hall, seated at a raised bench, were six high knights and the knight commander of the order, Sir Angus Donal, a still massively muscled man at sixty-five years old. The tribunal wore gleaming full plate lacking only the helms. If there had been different petitioners Sir Geris and Sir Duros would both have places at the high bench.
Col and his mentor took their seats at a table to the right of center before the tribunal. A moment later Callion and his mentor entered and took seats at a table to the left of center. When everyone had settled down Sir Donal said, “Is the accuser still determined to go through with this trial?” He looked at Callion who nodded. “So be it.”
He looked at Col. “Does the accused still insist on a Truthseer?”
“I do,” Col said. He was pleased to hear his voice sounded steady and firm.
Sir Donal nodded again. “So be it. Let the Truthseer be brought in.”
He must have been waiting for the call because the doors opened and a man entered the hall led by a nervous page about ten years old. He wore a thin gauze bandage wrapped around his head covering his eyes and a black robe with a set of scales embroidered on them, the robes of a Truthseer.
The page led the Truthseer to a circle inscribed on the floor in front of the tribunal. “The accuser will speak first,” Sir Donal said.
Callion got up from his chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. Col wanted nothing so much as to knock his teeth down the back of his throat. Callion stood beside the Truthseer, cleared his throat, and began. “On the night in question two of my companions and me were walking toward the barracks when Squire Col leapt out of the dark and knocked me to the ground and broke my nose and bruised and cut me from head to foot. When my brave companions tried to come to my aid he threatened them with his weapon. I believed Squire Col had murder in his heart so I called off my companions. When he was satisfied with the beating he had given me, Squire Col walked off laughing. When my companions judged it safe the three of us made our way to the infirmary to get my injuries attended to.”
Callion fell silent and the Truthseer said, “He speaks the truth.”
A low murmur rippled through the crowd. Col practically choked on his anger. Even though he knew the lie was coming it still almost floored him. How could Callion have done it? No one could corrupt a Truthseer.
“Though there seems little point at this juncture protocol allows the accused to speak in his defense,” Sir Donal said. If the knight commander felt any emotions at what was happening he didn’t show them.
Though he knew what would happen Col wanted to have his say. He took his place beside the Truthseer and told the tribunal what actually happened on that night.
When he finished the Truthseer said, “He lies.”
Col shot the man a look of such pure rage that the Truthseer flinched away from him. A blind man flinched away from a look. Sudden understanding struck him. Before anyone could approach he grabbed the Truthseer by the front of his robes and jerked him off his feet. He ripped the gauze from his face and looked into a pair of terrified blue eyes.
He grabbed the phony by the hair and spun him around to face the tribunal. “Take a good look, my lords.”
Sir Donal leapt to his feet. “A fraud!”
The gathered knights and squires rose to their feet, some shouting in outrage. “Silence!” Sir Donal roared. “Seize the imposter.”
Sir Geris moved to relieve Col of his prisoner. “Well done,” he whispered so none but Col could hear.
“A mockery has been made of this tribunal,” Sir Donal said. “I swear by the Light whoever is responsible will pay for insulting this court. Let a new Truthseer be summoned and we shall begin again.”
“My lord,” Callion said. “In light of the circumstances I would like to withdraw my accusations.”
“I’ll bet you would. Are you responsible for this outrage?”
Squire Alexander, one of the two that accompanied Callion the night their ambush, stood up. “My lord, I arranged the false Truthseer. Everything happened that night as Squire Col said. I felt he didn’t show Lord Callion enough respect and I wanted t
o be sure he paid for the insult.”
“So,” Sir Donal said. “You dishonored this tribunal knowing full well when we found out what happened you would be expelled from the order at the very least. And you, Callion, had to know of this or you wouldn’t have dared lie to us. You two are a disgrace.”
Turning to Col, Sir Donal continued. “I’m sorry for this farce, Squire Col. You may consider yourself cleared of all wrongdoing and return to active service at once.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Col said. Though he kept his voice steady Col felt near to collapsing with relief.
“In fact, I have your new assignment right now. You will decide the fate of the two men that would have seen you disgraced, Squire Alexander and this false Truthseer. Callion I will deal with myself.” Sir Donal shot such a dark glare at Callion that for the first time Col saw a tremor of concern on his arrogant face. “Let’s start with Squire Alexander. He will leave the order at once but any further punishment is yours to decide.”
Col considered for a moment. “Twenty lashes in front of the assembled knights and squires would be a reasonable punishment and it might act as a deterrent to future foolishness.”
“Harsh, but fair,” Sir Donal said. He indicated the squirming little man in Sir Geris’s iron grip. “And this one?”
“I’m not sure the correct punishment for his crime,” Col said then he smiled. “I think he should be turned over to the Truthseers for whatever punishment they deem appropriate.”
“No!” the imposter screamed. “My lord, please.” He looked at Callion as he begged for mercy. Everyone pretended otherwise, but it was perfectly clear who was responsible, whatever Alexander said.
“Be silent,” Sir Donal said. “This gathering will reconvene in one hour in the courtyard for Alexander’s punishment. Take the imposter to the Truthseers. You two, come with me.” Sir Donal indicated Col and Sir Geris.
Sir Geris turned the prisoner over to a young knight Col didn’t know well and he and his mentor followed the knight commander out of the tribunal chamber and a short ways down the hall to his personal office.