The White Dragon

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The White Dragon Page 5

by Salvador Mercer


  “Who represents the accused?” Titus asked.

  “I do,” Eric said, his voice clear and commanding despite the circumstances.

  “We’ll let the record show the accused is self-defending,” Titus said, writing something down on a sheet of parchment in front of him. “Ready, my lord.”

  Corwin nodded. “Eric Bain, leader of The Hunt. Do you wish to hear the formal charges against you?” The title was the best Eric had earned in his entire career, and the fact that he had any title at all was remarkable since he was not nobility and had no official government position.

  “My associate, Lucius Ewellyn, informed me last night of the charges. I waive a formal reading,” Eric said, repeating what Titus had told him to say only five minutes earlier. Most charges were done this way as the time of the most intense emotion for the victim’s family was during the reading of the charges. This was a simple formality, and Eric had no stomach to hear the word treason and his name associated in the same sentence together.

  “Magistrate Galen, the floor is yours,” Corwin said, giving the man a slight nod.

  “Thank you, Justiciar Corwin,” Galen said, walking to his assistant and pulling out a small pouch and walking over to Titus. He pulled out a necklace with what looked like a family emblem. “I call upon the widow, Mrs. James Tolk.”

  A woman dressed in a brown dress, but with a black armband on her right arm, came forward, assisted by an elderly man. She took a seat at the base of the stage and wiped away tears from her face.

  “I understand that you’re the wife of James Tolk?” Galen asked not the least bit delicately considering her state of sorrow.

  “So typical,” Eric whispered to Lucius, who sat next to him, both men having taken their seats once the beginning formalities were taken care of. Lucius nodded but said nothing.

  “I am,” the woman said.

  “State your name for the record,” Galen prompted.

  “Julie Tolk,” she said.

  Galen held up the necklace with the emblem token attached to it. “Do you recognize this charm?” he asked.

  Julie nodded. “Yes, that is James’ family crest, the Tolk crest.”

  “And it belonged to him?”

  “Yes.”

  “When was the last time you saw it, prior to today?” Galen asked.

  “James put it on when he left with that man.” She pointed at Eric. “Just over a week ago.”

  “Is this something valuable to your man, or to you and your family?” Galen asked. When she simply nodded, he continued. “So it’s not something that he would give up willingly, correct? I mean, it has more than simply monetary value. It has sentimental value, correct?”

  “Talk about misleading a witness.” Lucius could contain himself no longer, having stood and made the outburst.

  “You are not permitted to speak. The accused represents himself.” Galen turned and gave Lucius a glare.

  “I spoke last night,” Lucius responded.

  Corwin held up a hand at the magistrate and then looked at Eric. “May your associate speak on your behalf?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Eric said, placing a hand on Lucius’ arm.

  “Magistrate Galen, perhaps a pause in between questions will suffice?” Corwin said, looking at the man.

  Galen glared at both Eric and Lucius, an act he had become quite proficient at the last couple of days. “Very well, my lord. Can she answer my question, then?”

  Corwin nodded at the witness. “Go on, Mrs. Tolk, or do you need the question repeated?”

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “The necklace is only made from silver, not worthy of note for your nobilities, but it has been in the family for several generations and it is very dear to us and especially James.”

  “So he would not part with it willingly, would he?” Galen asked.

  “No, he wouldn’t,” she responded.

  “Let the record reflect that Mrs. Tolk identified this charm”—Galen held the item up again—“and that it was discovered in a pouch of the accused’s belongings by his bedside.”

  A murmur went up from the crowd, and Corwin had to use his guards to restore order by having them pound the ends of their short spears onto the wooden floor, making a large noise and gaining everyone’s attention.

  “Quiet now,” Corwin ordered. “Do you have anything else for the lady?”

  “No, my lord,” Galen said. “We’ll be giving the family charm back to her when the trial is over.”

  “Very well. Call your next witness.”

  The widow was escorted back to her seat in the hall, and the magistrate called on the owner of the Peak Pub and Inn, Frankel. The old man walked up and took his seat, avoiding eye contact with Eric.

  “State your name,” Galen ordered.

  “Frankel,” the man said.

  “Just Frankel?” Galen asked.

  “Yes, owner of the Peak,” the man said, looking uncomfortable.

  “Master Frankel, please tell us the circumstances under which the accused was brought to your establishment four days ago,” Galen asked.

  Frankel shrugged, looking sheepishly at the magistrate and then finally at Eric, and his facial expression saddened. “Master Eric was brought to my establishment by three of the Kesh and their servants.”

  More murmurs in the hall, but no one tried to stop them. “Go on,” Galen prompted.

  Frankel’s shoulders shrugged and then sagged as in defeat. “They paid top coin for the best room and service for Master Eric and . . .”

  “Continue,” Galen prompted, not having the least bit of sympathy for the old man’s inner struggle.

  After a long pause, Frankel finished. “They called for a death worshipper to heal him.”

  Gasps in the crowd, which had to be somewhat contrived. Everyone had either actually seen the cleric when he was in town or had heard about it. Still, the actual testimony was chilling, and Corwin allowed the outburst for a full minute.

  Galen didn’t hesitate. “You allowed the death worshipper into your establishment?”

  “What?” Frankel looked up in surprise and shock. “No, well, I mean, the Kesh insisted, and I tried to call the local healer, but they wouldn’t allow it. They demanded their own healer.”

  “So the Kesh treated him as one of their own, did they not?” Galen asked.

  “Well, not exactly—”

  He was interrupted by Galen rather quickly. “They gave orders for his best care, paid top coin, and insisted on their own healer. Does this not sound like they were working together?” Frankel shrugged, not answering and dropping his gaze to the floor. Galen went in for the kill. “Isn’t it true that the accused is known to frequent your establishment and that he often did so with a Kesh in his employ?”

  Frankel looked up, his eyes darting to and from Eric and the magistrate. “I’m not sure he was Kesh—”

  Another interruption. “Tall, swarthy, and with a metallic staff? That sounds Kesh to me,” Galen said.

  “They’re all tall and swarthy-looking,” someone yelled from the audience.

  “Enough,” Corwin yelled, and his guards repeated the stomping gesture with their spear butts. The hall was plunged into silence, not so much in fear of reprisal from the justiciar, but more in fear that he would empty the building and conduct the trial in private, and no one wanted to be blamed for that.

  Once the hall settled down, Galen repeated his question. Frankel answered, “Yes, he looked Kesh, though I am not sure.”

  “I’m done with him,” Galen said.

  “Lord Corwin.” Lucius stood, addressing the man. “There is nothing illegal in dealing with a Kesh.”

  While Lucius stood on solid legal ground, the common opinion amongst mostly every inhabitant of Agon was that the Kesh were tolerated at best and not to be trusted. The fact that they used magic and that this was mostly unknown to the other realms bred not only mistrust but a certain amount of jealousy as well.

  “Correct, Master Ewellyn,” Corwin s
tated, “but the association is suspect nevertheless.”

  Most everyone in the audience nodded in agreement with the justiciar. Eric placed a hand on Lucius and brought the man back to his seat. “Not now,” Eric said to him. Lucius nodded.

  “I only have one last witness,” Galen said.

  “Go on,” Corwin commanded.

  “I call on Miss Mary, servant at the Peak, worker of owner Frankel.”

  “No,” Eric muttered under his breath.

  “It’ll be all right,” Lucius said, trying to sound reassuring, and failing.

  Galen waited as Mary walked up and took a seat. She fidgeted a bit and looked at Eric with the same look as old man Frankel, which was to say not so good.

  “Miss Mary, you work for the owner of the Peak Pub and Inn, do you not?” Galen asked, skipping the opening formality this time, and Eric didn’t know any better to object.

  “I do,” she said.

  “And were you not instructed by your employer to provide services to the accused during his recovery?” Galen continued.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Galen seemed to revel for what was to come next. “And during your time of service, did the accused not request a weapon of some kind, specifically a sword?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Lucius blurted out.

  “No interruptions, please.” Galen gave Lucius a sideways glare. “Answer the question.”

  After a few seconds’ hesitation, Mary said, “Yes, he wanted a sword, but that is quite normal considering his line of work.”

  For some reason, Galen didn’t interrupt her and allowed her last remark to stand. “Wanting a sword is normal for a mercenary, yes, but not someone who is honoring his house arrest.”

  “I didn’t know I was under arrest.” Eric stood this time, and Lucius didn’t try to restrain him.

  “Silence,” Corwin commanded. “You’ll have your turn to speak. In the meantime, allow the magistrate to finish his presentation.”

  Eric sat, face red with anger. Galen seemed to notice and suppressed a smile, turning to Mary again. “So, you also stated that the accused frightened you when he regained consciousness, did you not?”

  Mary stammered and looked at Eric and then back to the magistrate, who stood patiently waiting for an answer. “Well, not really—”

  “Must I call the guards who witnessed what you said to his associate in the hallway?” Galen pressed.

  “No,” Mary said, falling silent.

  Galen had other plans and switched tactics. “I withdraw the question. It’s obvious from the accused’s anger that he has issues with his temper, and I hate to place a poor servant in such a difficult position. You may be excused.”

  Mary looked up, surprised, but the tactic seemed to work. It made Eric look like someone who had anger management issues while painting the magistrate as a kind, merciful questioner. Mary stood and walked away, giving Eric a sad look as she passed him.

  “Anything else?” Corwin asked.

  “I reserve the right to call for additional presentations after the accused has made his statement.” Galen walked to his table and sat down.

  “Very well. Eric Bain, you have the floor. Do tell us what happened to your company.” Corwin gave him a nod.

  Eric walked around the table and stood in front of the justiciar, standing with his hands flat at this side, being sure not to clench them. “As you know, the Highstone Pass has been the scene of several attacks by a force, or forces, unknown. I took my newly commissioned company, known as The Hunt, to seek out the attacker.

  The trail led us high into the mountains where we stumbled upon a creature that was both fierce and deadly. We engaged the beast, and it was there, in its lair, that my company fell.”

  Several sobs and muffled cries behind him alerted him to the fact that family members of his company were listening. Eric tried to continue, being as discrete as he could. “I narrowly escaped by sliding down the icy mountain and coming to rest where three Kesh were congregated for some reason. I was seriously injured, and passed out, only awakening to find myself under arrest at the Peak Pub. I did nothing wrong.”

  The explanation was simple and straight to the point and light on details. The justiciar picked up on this right away. “What exactly was this creature that killed your company?”

  Eric sighed, almost knowing this was coming, and he heard Lucius behind him. “No, Eric.”

  Eric closed his eyes and then opened them, letting out a deep, long breath before speaking. “The creature that killed my company was a dragon, a white dragon.”

  “Order,” Corwin quickly commanded as the entire hall erupted into half a dozen different cries of various emotions. Most were shocked by the statement, but some shock was quickly followed by laughter as the ludicrous statement was digested, and others murmured as if they knew it all along.

  The soldiers tapped their weapons against the floor for a long time before the hall quieted down, and Galen spoke up quickly before the moment was lost. “You see, Lord Corwin, that I had to call for your assistance, as the man has gone quite mad.”

  Eric shot him a nasty look and then noticed the justiciar was watching him intently. After a few long seconds, the duke’s representative for law and order spoke. “I don’t see any firm evidence that the man committed treason or murder . . . yet. However, right before departing Ulan Utandra, the duke informed me that the Kesh were going to be banished from Ulathan lands.”

  The hall broke out into another round of noise that was quickly followed by the process of calling it to order. “Go on, please, my lord,” Galen prompted, eager to hear the rest of the news.

  Corwin spoke louder now so that all could hear. “There is not specific reason yet, though the duke suspects treason and espionage by the Kesh against our realm and the central realms of Agon. So, by association with the Kesh, any Ulathan caught consorting with them is to be detained and questioned until further decree. Now I know that the accused was not aware of this—indeed, I was only recently informed—but the circumstances of this case warrant a further review.

  Since we know there can’t be a dragon involved, the entire testimony by the accused is deemed not credible, and weight must be given to the magistrate’s charges.” Galen seemed to lean in closer to the justiciar, anticipating a guilty verdict, but the verdict was never given a chance to be issued, if there was one. A faint voice called out from the audience.

  “A word, if I may.”

  Eric turned from the justiciar to see who had spoken, and was surprised to see the historian his associate had told him about that morning. He was known to mostly everyone in the town, and he walked toward Eric, nodding at the guards who let him pass as Corwin waved a hand, allowing his intervention.

  “Master Diamedes, you surprise me,” Corwin said, looking down at the man.

  Diamedes reached Eric and then stopped and looked at him before addressing the justiciar. “Will you allow my expert testimony into the proceedings?”

  Corwin’s face showed a hint of surprise and, for the first time that day, a real sense of confusion and even a small loss of control, as the request was not expected nor anticipated. “Of course. Your reputation precedes you. Do you speak for the crown?” Corwin asked, referring to the king of Tyniria.

  “No,” Diamedes said. “I do speak, however, in my capacity as his royal historian, and the search for facts is at the heart of all I do.”

  “Well, then, you will be heard,” Corwin said, motioning for him to continue.

  Diamedes’ response was much shorter than anyone thought possible. “I believe the accused. There is a dragon.”

  The hall did the opposite of what it had done that day and fell silent. Corwin reached a hand up and stroked his chin, deep in thought before finally speaking. “You jest?”

  “I do not,” Diamedes said, turning to face Eric and giving the man a wink.

  “Then what does your testimony propose?” Corwin asked, unsure of why a man o
f such stature would become involved in an obvious deception to the crown.

  The small historian nodded and then spoke. “It’s simple enough. Allow the man a chance to prove his words to you.”

  Corwin’s eyes widened, and he sat forward in his chair. “That is brilliant,” the justiciar said, obviously misunderstanding the historian. He thought the man was mocking the accused and, for some reason, giving Corwin an excuse for passing judgment. “We will have the accused lead us to this dragon and show us his evidence.”

  Galen quickly regained his smile once he heard the decree. Eric looked down at the small historian, leaning close to the man’s ear to whisper to him. “You mock me?”

  Diamedes replied, “To the contrary, I’m trying to help you.”

  “You have a strange way of helping,” Eric whispered. “The difference between us is that I actually saw what I saw. I saw a white dragon.”

  The royal historian nodded, turning his head to look at Eric. “I know, and I too have seen a dragon. More than one, to be exact.”

  Chapter 5

  Return

  The following day found an unlikely group working together to investigate the claims by Eric that there was a dragon high in the Felsic Mountains near Moartown. Once it was clear that they would have to travel very high into the mountains, Corwin designated the magistrate Galen to act on his behalf, and lent his personal guard to the expedition at the insistence of Eric, who seemed most concerned that the party be fully armed and ready for combat.

  Diamedes would also represent the crown in this matter, and the group basically consisted of a score of heavily armed troops, the magistrate, Eric, and Diamedes. Everyone else remained in town, and Eric was given a sword to use since he was still presumed innocent for the time being. No porters were taken; all supplies were carried on packs by the individuals traveling.

  The first day, they traveled deep into the Highstone Pass and camped for the night. The next day brought them high into the mountains with another camp, and on the third day, Eric caught sight of the mountain peak where he nearly died.

 

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