Oranna snorted at that claim. Cassandra couldn’t help but agree. It was well known that the Tarquill’s printing press was Arkus’ preferred service. If anyone else felt that, they held their tongues. Silence reigned as Jasper Tarquill struggled down the merchants tier, then huffed his way up the short flight of steps to meet Arkus on the podium.
To say Jasper was a fat man would be an insult; he had the sort of bulk that was rewarded only through dedication at the dinner table. He was a keg on legs, with arms to match, and supported himself on a sturdy black cane. His doublet was a rich purple with silver buttons, and his moustache thick enough to offer warmth during winter. He bowed as far as his size allowed him to before Arkus.
“I am humbled to undertake the position of arbiter today.” Though breathless from his climb, he spoke with a confidence earned from having wild success in life. “I have no lands damaged in the war, and no reason of birth or rank to seek the accused’s demise in advancement of myself. If any would oppose my arbitration, speak now.”
No one did.
Cassandra wondered why they bothered with all of this. Most of the real discussions had already happened behind closed doors. Lands granted here, titles there, Chevalier positions offered for spare sons. All of it owed to Arkus.
Jasper thumped his cane once in satisfaction. “Very well, we shall begin. Bring forth the prisoner!”
A distant door crashed open and four Chevaliers marched in, surrounding a man with a wildly overgrown beard. They marched Annandale into the jailor’s box and attached his chains to two iron posts. He was not given a chair.
Jasper crossed the podium to address Annandale, his great buttocks quivering behind him.
“Robert Annandale, former Great Lord of the Southern Dales, you stand accused of high treason against your king and the kingdom.”
Annandale raised his cuffed hands, shaking his chains. “Former Great Lord?” he said in a hoarse, weakened voice. “Have you already condemned me? What sort of justice is this?”
“You will have your say,” Jasper said. “But you have been accused, I repeat, of high treason. You stand accused of conspiring with the wizard Castallan to raise an armed rebellion and seize this kingdom for your own.”
“It was Castallan who wanted to seize the kingdom,” said Annandale. He looked imploringly at his colleagues around the hall. “You see what they have done to me? I am one of you? And Arkus chains me like a dog before my trial begins, tries to force me into admittance of a crime I was not responsible for.”
A short, completely bald man stood up from the top seat of the Cairlav Marshes tier.
“So, you deny you were involved? We all saw your proclamation to make Castallan the king. What do you take us for?”
“Lord Reed,” Jasper barked, as though snapping at a servant. “Please do not make uninvited exclamations in this hall.” Lord Reed sat back down looking quite disgruntled. Jasper continued: “Yet despite being raised early, the point raised is valid and stands. Lord Annandale, the document in question was signed by your hand, the signature has been recognised by many members of this Assembly. Hunters and troops from the Dales fought against our united forces at the Bastion. Do you have a defence?”
Annandale was shaking his head gently, as though in disbelief. “He was a wizard, you fools. You must have seen what he did during that battle. He could make anyone do anything he wanted.”
There was some murmuring at this.
Jasper rapped his cane to call order and then brandished it at Annandale like a lance.
“Are you claiming you were not in your right mind? That you were hoodwinked or enchanted in some fashion?”
“So soon, Robert?” Arkus muttered. Cassandra started, not having noticed Arkus return to sit beside her in the Royal Box. Her father’s hands were held up to his face, fingers meeting in a steeple. He was smiling, though why Cassandra wasn’t sure. If Jasper wasn’t careful, he might lead Annandale by the hand towards a lenient sentence or possibly an acquittal. She’d been there at the Bastion. None of those men had been magically brainwashed. Castallan had charmed them through promises and words, and they had followed.
“Precisely right,” Annandale said. “I was enchanted; placed into a dream-like state. I signed what he asked, did what he asked.”
She resisted a sudden urge to jump to her feet. Perhaps Arkus sensed her frustration for he tilted his head towards her and whispered, “You’ll get your chance. As discussed.”
Upon the podium Jasper had begun to pace, his heavy steps sending out creaks from the platform.
“Many might call that an easy excuse.”
“I call it the truth,” Annandale said.
“Hmmm,” Jasper blustered. “A truth that, conveniently for you, nobody can prove or disprove. You were granted a chance to name any witnesses who might corroborate your story. Have you anyone to call upon?”
“No,” Annandale croaked. There was an edge of defeatism to his voice. “Many of my closest friends, family, advisors, were killed at the Bastion or are suffering from your occupation forces.”
Lord Esselmont rose this time. “Our peacekeeping soldiers would rather be at home with their families. Those who still have families, after your accomplice sent demons ravaging across our lands.”
“Precisely,” Lord Reed cried, leaping to his feet once more. “My friends let us dispense with this farce. We know where this is heading. Annandale must pay for his atrocities against us all.” The Assembly broke out into murmuring. Lord Reed smiled cruelly, tasting Annandale’s blood in the air. Jasper Tarquill brought down his cane so hard, Cassandra was surprised it did not break.
“Lord Reed, you have been asked already to refrain from outbursts. One more and you shall be ejected from this hall.”
Cassandra glanced at Arkus, but his face was unmoved. She noted that no reprimand had been made to Lord Esselmont, the far more powerful Lord who was closer to Arkus than the lowly Reed. She felt a little pity for the Lord of the Cairlav Marshes. Brevia couldn’t be an easy place for a noble when common merchants outstripped you in real power.
Jasper continued. “By all the conventions of this Assembly, Lord Annandale will be given a right to be heard. Although it seems he doesn’t wish to exercise that right fully.”
Annandale was busy picking at his teeth with a fingernail. “I agree with the Lord of the Bogs. I’m likely to be condemned no matter what I say. However, even you must admit that in order to sentence me, it must be proven beyond common doubt I was not under the wizard’s spell.”
“The Crown would like to call a witness for that,” Arkus said. “Princess Cassandra.”
The Assembly collectively turned to face her with much grunting and scuffling of chairs. She felt hundreds of eyes examine every inch of her, drinking in the princess who had returned from the dead.
She made her way out of the Royal Box towards Jasper upon the stage. The hall had gone deathly silent. A solitary, quiet cough echoed loudly. Jasper was a huge man in every sense of the word, towering over Cassandra despite her wearing her heeled black boots.
“You have evidence that you wish to present to the Assembly?”
“I do.” She kept her focus entirely on Annandale. Time in the palace dungeons had left its marks upon him. Deep lines framed his eyes, his skin was grey and his face was thin, almost feral. Yet she had no doubts about this. Annandale deserved to be punished. Anyone who supported Castallan did.
“Princess,” Jasper began, “It is said that you were held hostage at the Bastion for most of your life. Is this correct?”
“It is.”
“And during all those years, did you ever have cause to think that Castallan used his powers to brainwash those who supported him?”
“No. I believe those who joined Castallan did so willingly. They willingly killed in his name.”
“Well, case closed then,” Ann
andale said. “I notice nobody questions her loyalty after spending so long in the wizard’s company.”
“Castallan was my jailor,” Cassandra said. “Watching him die was a relief I’ll likely never feel again.” That had come out colder than she’d intended. She supposed it would take more than mere months for her to begin getting over her hatred.
Jasper cleared his throat. “A relief we all felt, Princess. Please continue.”
“The day your proclamation was signed, Castallan brought me to his throne room. I saw the remnants of a feast, thrown in celebration because of the alliance you had just made with him. He told me you had signed the document and mentioned nothing of using magic to brainwash you.”
“So, he lied,” Annandale said offhand.
“Why throw a feast if he was controlling you by magic?” Cassandra said. She smirked at him. “I was also in Castallan’s throne room prior to the beginning of the battle. Castallan made an impassioned speech to hunters and soldiers from the Southern Dales. Why would he bother with such a thing if he held you all under his thumb? He would not fake all of this for my sake.”
The muttering from the Lords confirmed they too thought as she did.
Annandale shrugged. “Castallan had a taste for the dramatic. Think what you will. Your mind is made up.”
“Is there anything else, Princess?” Jasper asked.
Something sprang to her mind then and she felt a pang of guilt for not thinking of him sooner. Adjusting to her new life had been so all-consuming that she’d nearly forgotten about Chelos. That had been selfish of her.
“Yes, I do. While I’m here, I should add torture to Annandale’s list of offences.” Annandale looked taken aback but she pressed on. “There was an old man who cared for me while I was a prisoner at the Bastion. His name was Chelos, and he was tortured for sport when I fled. He suffered because of me and I owe him justice as well.”
“Chelos?” Annandale said, his face a picture of confusion. He furrowed his brow, lost in thought for a moment before wide-eyed realisation hit him. “That dragon?” And then he did the most despicable thing of all. He laughed. He laughed high and he laughed hard, ending on a spluttering cough when his breath caught in his throat. “Not for sport, Princess. No, not merely for the sake of it… don’t you know?”
“That is enough testimony from the Princess.” Arkus’ voice rang with all the authority of his position. But Annandale seized his moment. He rattled his chains as loudly as he could, drawing attention back to him.
“No Arkus. You promised to let me have my say, then I’ll say this, and may you regret it, old friend.” He turned to speak directly to Cassandra, though his voice remained loud enough to carry. “Do not throw all of Castallan’s crimes at my feet, Princess. I am not him. As for this dragon you wish to defend, I think my fellow Lords deserve to know why Castallan had to forcibly extract information from him.”
“I said enough.”
Yet no one was paying attention to Arkus now. The whole hall was enthralled by Annandale. Cassandra was also transfixed, but with fear. Fear of the information that Chelos had given to Castallan. About the passageways around the Bastion; passageways that had been built in secret by the—
“Dragons,” Annandale boomed. “How they have always spat on us. In the Dales, we remember the First War well, and the Second for that matter. These wars were why the Bastion was built in the first place, was it not? Our new dragon friends aided in that construction; a sign of peace and assurance… or so we thought.” He let the implication settle on the room for a moment.
Cassandra’s insides squirmed. What had she done? She hadn’t thought before of mentioning Chelos, it had just spilled out of her in her anger. She looked around the hall and saw only grave expressions.
Annandale smiled and carried on. “The dragons constructed secret ways beneath and within the walls of the Bastion: the very fortress that was supposed to be a deterrent against their aggression. They always had an easy way to breach it.”
The reaction from the hall was predictable.
Many jumped to their feet, shaking their fists or banging them upon the pews in a storm of protest. The calls for order went unheard.
Cassandra fell into a trance, frozen by guilt and astonishment at her own blundering. A hand fell upon her shoulder, but it was only Arkus. He said something that was lost to the din, but she read, ‘Back to your seat,’ from his lips. She tried to say she was sorry, but he shook his head and gently pushed her in the direction of the Royal Box. She hurried away as the noise swelled.
Annandale had the room now, all eyes were upon him, and a persistent shaking of his chains eventually brought the volume of the hall down.
“And who has brought tens of thousands of dragons to live outside your very city?” He cried. “Why, King Arkus has.” He pointed an accusatory finger, leaning as far forward as his restraints would allow. “He’s let that traitorous race camp outside your very doorstep. What happens when the next betrayal comes?”
“The only betrayal that matters today is yours, Robert,” Arkus said. He opened his hands, his palms facing upwards in an appealing fashion. “Noble Lords, Ladies, dear friends, these past months have been hard. They have pushed many of us to the brink, both in resources, and in will. But when it comes to loyalty, my will shall never be broken. This man, this former friend, betrayed not only myself, but all of you. Sons and daughters from your lands bled because of him. And while his accusations about the dragons are true – oh yes, I am all too aware of that – his actions cannot be redeemed. Before you stands a man who attempted to seize power from us all. He failed. He and his partner in the matter, Lord Geoff Boreac. And my friends if you fear the dragons now, be thankful that Boreac failed on his side of their scheming.”
“What trumped up charge is this now?” Annandale said, sounding genuinely aggrieved. Cassandra understood why. There had been no joint scheme of theirs. Boreac had told her so when she’d found him and he had no reason to lie by then.
“No further words from you traitor,” Arkus called. “Your words are poison.” He turned his back on Annandale and faced the Assembly. “I did not want to reveal this delicate information to you all in such a heated and public manner. Yet I feel I must. For the truth must be known. Boreac and Annandale conspired to develop a dangerous new weapon, one they planned to use against our armies, but the rebellion began before they were ready. Such was Boreac’s wroth at our victory, he intended to seek his final revenge by delivering this new weapon into the hands of the dragons. Sadly, for him, the dragons were not accepting of him. Whether he angered them or not is unclear, but Lord Boreac’s body was found in the dragon camps some weeks ago.” Gasps of shock issued from throughout the Assembly. Arkus raised his hands to keep the quiet. “We are investigating what we can of his death. This new weaponry, thankfully, never made it across the sea. Chevaliers secured it and I have sought to understand it; to turn it to the advantage of our race.”
Cassandra shuffled in her seat. The Assembly were buying this story. And why shouldn’t they, she supposed. It all sounded plausible, and goodness knows there was enough anti-dragon sentiment over the camps alone for people to latch onto this version of the story. She caught Gellick Esselmont’s eye and Boreac’s killer had the temerity to wink.
Annandale was yelling now, his Chevalier guards closing in on him, swords threateningly in hand. “He lies, he lies, he lies, I tell you. You must believe me, he lies.”
“Coming from the mouth of a traitor?” Arkus said.
“He’s seizing power away from you all, don’t you see. He’s an oppressor!”
But the Lords did not want to hear him. Their booing drowned out Annandale’s last desperate pleas. The Chevaliers grabbed Annandale and held him still.
“Now seems a good time to deliver the verdict,” Arkus said, looking to Jasper Tarquill. Poor Jasper appeared lost for words, his jaw hanging s
lack. But at Arkus’ words, he rescued his composure, shook his great mass and thumped his cane.
“Indeed, my King. The Lords Assembly shall now pass judgement on this man. All those in favour of his innocence.” The crowd went silent. “And all those who find him guilty of treason?”
Lord Annandale’s fate was sealed with a thunderous cry and a storm of raised hands, except for Oranna’s father. Lord Clachonn kept his hands clasped in his lap even though most members of his entourage threw theirs into the air.
But the verdict was clear.
Annandale howled as the Chevaliers dragged him away. “So much for childhood bonds, Arkus. So much for a kingdom bound in brotherhood. Ilana would hate to see what you’ve become; do you hear me? She’d be sick at the man you are now.”
“Speak of her again and you’ll die in your cell!” Arkus’ composure was ruined. The King turned away, trying to calm himself. Annandale was hauled away, all the while yelling further insults from times long past.
Arkus only called for order again once the former Lord of the Dales had gone. He thanked Jasper for his time and then opened up the floor to questions. All three of the remaining Great Lords sprang to their feet, but it was Esselmont who spoke first.
“My good King, might you tell us more about these weapons you have been, erm, investigating.” Cassandra saw something like hunger in his eyes.
Arkus breathed out slowly, anger visibly draining from his face. “I am aware that you will all want to know as much as possible about this matter. I wasn’t sure whether I was yet ready to unveil my achievements so far, but under the circumstances, it will be easiest to simply… show you. Gellick, will you fetch our closest squad of sharpshooters for your father.”
Gellick slinked off, heading for the guardroom behind the Royal Box. He returned a short time later, too short a time to have ventured all the way to the compound beneath the streets of the Rotting Hill. The troop of sharpshooters marched to join Arkus on the central podium. The Assembly collectively gawked at the soldiers, many members scrambling with each other to get a better view, leaning over the railings of their tier and jostling for position.
The Dragon's Blade_The Last Guardian Page 6