by Donald D. Allan
Katherine looked at Will, his face frozen with an expression of pain. The realisation that he had lost Nadine was just now hitting him hard. It pained her to see the expression on his face.
Simon laughed.
Katherine looked at Will, but he appeared to be the same.
Katherine looked at Dog and nodded.
Simon didn’t respond.
I think he’s gone, said Dog.
Yes, it appears so. How do we turn this off? Katherine made a sweeping gesture.
Let go?
Katherine blinked and, like letting go a long-held breath, let go of the power. It pulsed out of her and Dog and she could see the power ripple out across the land and dissipate. She drew a breath and looked at Will. He was moaning and moved forward to place his head in his hands. Katherine slid beside him on the swing and embraced him.
“Reach for her, Freamhaigh! I’ve fixed it, reach for her!”
Will lifted his head to stare at her, confusion on his face.
“Reach for her!”
Will steeled his expression and his eyes went out of focus. Katherine opened her sight and watched the beauty of Will’s love shoot out of him as a blinding spear of light. It stabbed westward faster than her eyes could follow. She felt her heart beat once, twice, and then Will erupted in pure joy that washed over her and left her reeling and feeling inadequate. He has such love for her, how can one man love another so deeply?
Katherine heard Heather cry out in joy and across the draoi bond others cheered. A deep sense of the world suddenly being right snapped into place. The draoi erupted in conversation, flooding the bond. Katherine held Will, and he cried in relief. Great racking sobs shook him against her. Dog placed his head in his lap.
Katherine sensed Will talking to Nadine and quietly let him go and went back inside. Heather was on the floor holding James tight and crying in joy. James looked bewildered. Dog walked in and looked at them and bounded over to lick their faces.
Katherine looked around the small house. Vanessa was sitting up at the table looking confused and scared. The three children stood near her not sure what was going on with the youngest crying and holding a blanket. But the draoi bond was alive and vibrant and flooding her thoughts. No one seemed to know what to do next. And Kennit's draoi are still not there, but he’ll sense this, and he’ll react.
“Pull yourselves together,” she ordered. “We need to head to my farm.”
Eighteen
Jergen and Munsten, September 902 A.C.
BRENT WALKED THE familiar hallway with Robert Ghent beside him. Brent rubbed the sleep from his eyes and adjusted the robes that marked him as the Regent. Around his neck he wore the heavy chain of office with the overly large symbol of the Realm hanging from it. He was so very tired. He was awake most of every day past sunset and rising early, before the sunrise, to deal with all the reports flooding in from around the Realm.
He suspected he was not seeing everything. There were too many gaps in the reports. He didn’t know who was hiding details, and his attempts at finding answers were unsuccessful. The problem, he knew, was that he was now dependent on others to research for him and he knew not who he could trust. Eylene was the only one he felt he could trust. She had the interests of the land as her top priority. She wasn’t as pious as Martin, but Brent could see her love of God. When she had reported the Church had chosen her for the position of Archbishop he had been elated.
He glanced sideways at Robert Ghent for a moment. This was a man he wasn’t sure he could trust. The man only loved the law. As the head of the Judicial Council, Ghent was still trying to get the lower court put together. Brent was annoyed with him: he kept stalling and making excuses about establishing the court. It should have been in place weeks ago, thought Brent. It would have relieved a great many stresses. The man is so caught up in making sure it is legal that he forgets it is all about legality. I swear the man speaks out of both sides of his mouth.
Brent pushed the thoughts aside. It was early in the morning and for once Brent had slept past the sunrise. He had finished a copious amount of whiskey the night before. Emily had said something to him about it, he seemed to remember. He remembered her yelling at him before storming off to her room. God knows that woman has issues, he thought. Now his mouth was full of cotton and his head pounded painfully. Ghent had woken him and said that an emergency sitting of the Privy Council was happening and he was needed at once. Something was wrong, but Ghent didn’t know what the matter was, causing Brent to yell at him, once again. He used the chamber pot, splashed water in his face, dressed and was now walking the hallways.
Yet another fire I have to put out. Will they never end?
The doors to the Privy Council chamber could be seen up ahead and Brent was pleased to see two guards posted outside. As he drew closer, he noticed they were not his guards, rather two guards from the Church Guard. They carried a strange wooden and metal contraption with a handle at their waists. The guards saw hi
m approach and opened the double doors. Ghent ushered Brent through before he had a chance to query the strange weapons.
Brent stopped on the other side of the door and looked around, not sure what he was seeing. The first thing he noticed was Archbishop Kissane was seated at the head of the table in his seat. Seated next to her was Robert Hargrave, the head of the Privy Council. On the other side of her, there was an empty seat which Robert Ghent moved to and sat down. The head of the Church Guard also sat at the table which wasn’t right. He had no place at the table. Knight General Kingsmill sat at the table and did not look pleased at all. Brent saw two draoi and blinked at them. One was Lana, and the other Brent remembered as Kennit. They sat quietly and didn’t look at him.
Brent noticed one empty seat, the one closest to him and directly opposite Kissane. He knew this empty seat: this was the seat the Privy Council used to question select individuals. He also noticed the Church guards lining both sides of the room, standing at attention, each with one of the strange weapons at his or her waist. Brent knew trouble when he saw it. He was in trouble. For the first time in a long time he longed for his sword.
Brent took a step forward, and he felt two guards move behind him and block the exit. “What’s happening here? Eylene? Kingsmill?”
Eylene smiled with tight lips. “Sit, Regent. We have much to discuss.”
Brent scowled. “You do not give orders here, Archbishop. Stand up, you are in my seat.”
Kingsmill looked at Brent and Brent could see the fear there. He opened his mouth to ask him what was happening when the guards behind him grabbed him under the arms and forced him into the vacant seat.
“Let me go! Unhand me!” Brent tried to remain standing, but the guards pressed him into his seat and held him down by his shoulders. Brent struggled and fought. “Let me up! What is this?”
“SILENCE!” yelled Eylene, stunning the room. “You will sit silent, Brent Bairstow. You are not in charge here. I am.”
“That is preposterous! This is treason!”
“This is justice! You have allowed the Realm to descend into chaos.”
“I have? That’s nonsense, and you know it. I have been fighting to bring the Realm back into control. What is this? What are you doing?”
Eylene picked up the gavel and rapped it twice on the sound board. “Silence. One more outburst and you will be gagged!”
Brent struggled to rise again. “Enough of this! Guards! I will see you all hanged for this. I am the Regent! I will…”
A large hand clamped itself over Brent’s mouth and he tried to bite it, but it pressed hard and mashed his lips against his teeth. He could taste blood and he twisted his head to get himself free. The men were so much stronger than him, but he had to resist and tried. His efforts were useless and in a moment he was gagged with his hands tied painfully behind his back. He was forced to lean forward with his chest against the table. He glared across the table at the smirk on Eylene’s face.
“Much better,” she said. “As I was saying, we are here to determine the fate of Regent Brent Bairstow and the Realm. As the Archbishop I have asked the heads of the Judiciary and Privy Councils to bear witness of these proceedings. Also with us, is Knight General Kingsmill, the last of the Privy Council. He has just reported that the Cian-Oirthear army has been offloaded to their land. The ships have returned safe.
“I have met with both Robert Hargrave and Robert Ghent several times over the past months. They have continually expressed concern with the governance of the Realm under the hand of Regent Bairstow. The Council met in secret two days ago and decided to allow the Privy Council to determine what actions should take place. We are here today to hear the decisions that have been made.
“First, Regent Brent Bairstow, the Judicial Council has determined that your actions to assume authority of the Realm and replace the former President John Healy, were unlawful. The position of Regent is decided by the Council and only by the Council and requires a vote of fifty percent plus one to be validated. The Council, we have heard, were coerced into accepting you as Regent. Threats were made. This is a crime in of itself. You are charged with violating the electoral process of Belkin.
“Two, and the most heinous crime: your act of assassination of President Healy. You are to be charged with murder. Three, the fact that the murder was of the head of the Realm was an act of treason and therefore, you are also to be charged with treason. Your court dates have not yet been determined. You will be held in the tower until your trials occur.”
Brent struggled against his bonds. He tried to stand and was pressed harder into the seat. He yelled against the gag, but little noise came out. The people around the table seemed amused, except for Kingsmill. He refused to look anywhere but at the table in front of him.
Eylene continued. “Knight General Kingsmill has been questioned. His role in the assassination of Healy is now well documented. He was the only voice against the plan laid out by Brent Bairstow. The sole voice of reason against such a criminal act. For this, and his loyalty, and the recognition that as a military man he is under oath to follow orders, he will receive a handsome retirement package and be allowed to retire anywhere in the Realm he so chooses. It is acknowledged that he was complicit, but his years of exemplary service, fighting against the foreign navy, and his sound advice to the Realm, have all weighed in his favour. Knight General Kingsmill, you are dismissed. Thank you for your service. You may go. Now.”
Kingsmill remained seated for a moment looking at the table. He looked up finally and stared at Brent for a moment. Brent could almost see the thoughts behind those eyes, and he could see the guilt. Brent nodded to Kingsmill. Kingsmill looked relieved and then pushed back his chair and stood. He smoothed the front of his tunic and came to attention and saluted the table. Brent noticed the salute failed to target anyone in particular. Kingsmill turned and strode out of the room without saying a word. The doors closed behind him and Eylene chuckled.
Brent squinted at Eylene. She seemed to lie back in her seat. She reached forward and picked up the gavel and waved it around before setting it back down again. “So much fun. You’ve lost, Brent. Everything. You tried so hard to do what you thought was right. I’m afraid you were always going to lose. The Roberts here? Ghent and Hargrave? They’ve hated you from day one. They had so much power under Healy and you took that away from them. You questioned them after decades of support to the Realm. Belittled them. Not the best course of action if you wanted to gain support. Politics is such a finicky mistress.”
Ghent and Hargrave chuckled and nodded their heads. Brent could see they were enjoying themselves. Hargrave winked at Brent.
Eylene leaned forward and stretched out over the table. “No, instead you made enemies of the men and women you should have dismissed from day one. Not the best way to replace someone like Healy. I’ve heard you had detailed knowledge of the corruption in Healy’s government and yet you did nothing to purge those in the ranks who would see you struck down.
“You were an idiot, Brent Bairstow. Like Ghent and Hargrave. Why they would think that I would allow them to remain working for the Realm is beyond me. Power makes men stupid, I suppose. Proceed.”
Ghent and Hargrave looked surprised and looked across the table at one another. They each saw the guard behind the other remove the strange weapon from their waist and point the little opening at the end toward the back of the head of the other. The guards did something with the handle and a large bang sounded from each of the weapons. Brent cried out in alarm against his gag. Ghent and Hargrave each took a ball of lead to the back of the head and slumped dead to the table. Blood poured freely in surprisingly large amounts from their ruptured skulls and pooled across the table. Lana and Kennit moved away a little.
Brent cried out in shock and alarm and tried to push away from the table. He had never seen weapons like that, but the acrid smoke in the room told him that black powder was behind it. He glanced around the room and confirmed all the guards carried th
e weapons. The two guards who had used their weapons were reloading them and Brent wanted to watch to see how they did it, but Eylene stood up.
“Handguns are what they are called, in case you were curious. I see you watching the men reload. We found the secret to making the black powder. It wasn’t hard to find a better way to use it. My top wordsmith devised these weapons. Every single guard member has one, in addition to his or her sword. It can kill a person from twenty feet away with ease. It changes everything, I hear. Already the Church Guard across the Realm is assuming control of the villages and cities. We have hundreds and hundreds of members. All trained by the Church of Belkin.”
When Brent looked confused, she laughed. “Yes, the Church of Belkin. The true church of the Realm, not that useless Church of the New Order. Doddering old fools. They’re all dead now. But you knew that. Over the years, Healy conspired with the New Order and tried to rule the Realm under a single power. The Church of the New Order was doing their own thing to try and rule the land. Except, they still believed in a King. Can you believe that? In this day and age and they would place a King on the throne?
“Years ago, the Church of Belkin decided the King had to go, and with it the Church of the New Order. The corruption was too wide spread. The King was guilty of so many crimes and the Archbishop and his church were complicit by doing nothing. We saw it all from Shape and decided to put things in motion. It was just a passing thought and then it grew in strength. Good men and women know a righteous cause when they see one and this was one. Rid the Realm of the abuses of a monarchy and tear down the vile and corrupt church at the same time. Our plan was all working so beautifully until the druids appeared. Then surprisingly the Church of the New Order saw fit to remove the druid threat with that Sect of theirs.”
Eylene stood up and walked past Ghent and stood behind Lana and placed her hands on her shoulders. Lana smiled. “The druids came back of course. What you don’t know is there are things going on in the background no one is the wiser to. But this time, some new druids decided that their fealty to the Church of Belkin was higher than that of worship to this Gaea creature. Lana and Kennit here are examples. It’s a funny thing, you see. Half the druids wanted to allow Gaea to die, and half didn’t. Those that didn’t, saw her taken from them. That act, that one small thing, turned them away from the teachings of Gaea. Funny, no? They saw their opinion didn’t matter. They soon found themselves without their deity and their powers. So what now? Their powers were restored and along come Lana and Kennit and they let them see a new way. A way where they have power and no one can tell them what to do.” Eylene leaned over and kissed the top of Lana’s head.