by Jason Kenyon
Of course, he was not alone. Seated at the larger table was Salestis herself, garbed in traditional Order whites and golds, though she was entirely unarmoured on this occasion. Unlike their previous encounter, her hair was not braided, but had instead been left to rest on her shoulders. It didn’t look like Salestis had slept the best either, judging from the shadows under her eyes, but that was little comfort to Archimegadon.
Salestis gestured to one of the chairs, which had been tugged out a little from the table.
‘Please, take a seat,’ Salestis said. ‘We have much to talk about, so you might as well sit down.’
Once Archimegadon had seated himself, with some mild relief that he wasn’t going to have to stand for whatever this was about, Salestis rose from her chair and perched herself on the edge of the table near him. She tucked some loose hair behind her left ear and regarded him with weary eyes.
‘So,’ she said. ‘You’re one of these Godslayers I’ve heard so much about.’
‘I suppose so,’ Archimegadon said. ‘What of it?’
‘I have heard the title come up again and again following the unfortunate business over in Ferrina,’ Salestis replied. ‘Whenever there has been some sort of rebellion against my Order in the recent months, the title Godslayer has not been far away.’
‘You slaughtered my people,’ Archimegadon said, ‘and turned the mages of Valanthas into slaves.’
‘Are you surprised?’ Salestis asked.
Archimegadon blinked. He’d at least expected some sort of denial.
‘Mages are dangerous,’ Salestis said. ‘So are mercenaries like the Fallen Blade. This must be obvious to you. Valanthas needs order and direction if it is to function. Men like Diojin, Auber Bartell, and Orgus Alhamis would all have Valanthas for themselves, and their incessant needs to be heard and seen by the rest of the world threaten to drag the country into disaster.’
‘Are you any different?’ Archimegadon asked.
Salestis gave a tired smile. ‘Maybe, maybe not. What I wanted was to force Valanthas back into shape. I did not… I do not… have much time to achieve it. I do not know where you came from, or why, but you see the world from the same level as everyone else. When you look around, you see the nearest people, but you cannot see the rest of the crowd beyond them.
‘As Regent of Valanthas, I see across the entire kingdom, and watch the damage caused by madmen such as Bartell and the order of Clerics. Maybe you do not realise, but their disasters sparked other similar events in other parts of Valanthas, resulting in injuries, deaths, and in the worst cases mass destruction. I have to stop all of that, and you can’t do so by reacting in kind. You have to react harder, and louder, or the entire kingdom won’t hear it.’
‘Setting a giant demon on your political adversaries is your idea of speaking louder?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Answer me this, then, Mage for Hire,’ Salestis replied. ‘Did you hear about Ludroth? Or Welvane?’
‘Erm, no.’
‘Exactly.’ Salestis looked up at the ceiling. ‘Similar disasters happened in both those towns a few weeks after we freed Ferrina, and nobody noticed. I’d rather the world was different too, Ardon, but we have to face the fact that people are never going to care about things they see as minor. If you explain something to a child, and they don’t understand, do you leave them with no answer? No, you explain it again – in simpler terms.’
Archimegadon felt particularly uncomfortable as he looked back into Salestis’s eyes. There was an intensity there that intimidated him, eyes that had seen disasters, injuries, and slaughter so many times that they took them as commonplace.
‘You know who I am?’ Archimegadon asked, unwilling to touch on what Salestis had been talking about.
‘Yes, we have been told a fair few bits of information about you Godslayers,’ Salestis replied. ‘I’ll admit, we don’t yet know who the fat man is, but you have travelled amongst esteemed company. Eryu’s daughter – that must have been exciting for a mage – and the former Queen as well. As for you, your name cropped up in some of the tales from Verrinion Cathedral. Shamed by Bartell, blamed for his crimes…’
‘I opposed Bartell,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Yes, Bartell does not appear to have been the most reliable witness,’ Salestis said. ‘Then you reappeared in Ferrina, and a band of rogues held you in high esteem for killing an alleged dark god. One of the councillors there attested to your involvement in the crisis, though he seemed to indicate that your meddling was partially responsible.’
Archimegadon glowered. This wasn’t the sort of fame he’d wanted to attain.
‘Do you know why rulers and councils hire and regulate official guards, instead of simply letting the people arbitrate their own matters?’ Salestis asked. ‘It is because vigilante justice is swift, and tends to avoid most of the facts. A decision is made, actions are carried out, and it is only then that they pause to piece through the parts of the puzzle, before finding that they killed the wrong man, or punished an innocent woman.
‘Now, here you are, in the company of Unette Alhamis, making rash decisions and getting involved in my business because, no doubt, she has been telling you all sorts of things. However, it’s time to stop making mistakes, and start thinking about things logically. I have my own offer to make you.’
‘Go ahead,’ Archimegadon said.
‘The Central Council hasn’t entirely liked my ways of running things either,’ Salestis said. ‘They want me to befriend Knight Champion Terrek, which is not the most attractive prospect. Now that you’ve spoiled my more hard-line solution, I suppose that I’ll need to take a softer approach to things. Namely, now that Unette is back in our hands, she is to be put on trial today, and then executed.’
‘That’s hardly a trial,’ Archimegadon said.
‘She hardly has much of a case,’ Salestis said, with a brief smile. ‘Now, to ensure everything goes smoothly, I would like for you to speak on our behalf, and assist us in proving Unette’s guilt and actions over the past few months. While I have evidence enough, it is almost entirely from the perspective of the Order, and so Terrek is bound to raise some complaints to make a point.’
‘You want me to lie for you?’ Archimegadon asked, with a laugh. ‘You must be mad. After what you’ve done, I am most certainly not going to help you.’
‘Don’t think me stupid,’ Salestis said. ‘I know you don’t like me, but that is neither here nor there. The Central Council and Knight Champion Terrek have no interest in overseeing the trials of your companions, unlike they do with Unette. With the remains of the Shield handling your friends, I can assure you that you will not see them alive ever again. However, if you do this favour for me now, and help me put Unette to death – as she deserves – then I shall be lenient, and pardon you and your friends, and let you all go.’
‘Ithalna is my friend as well,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Is that the name she went by?’ Salestis asked. ‘Well, she is not included in the deal, I am afraid. Regicide is a very difficult crime to ignore.’
Archimegadon sighed. In his current situation, the deal was certainly attractive, but whatever his misgivings about her Cleric ties, he could not countenance selling Ithalna out for the convenient solution. Equally, after all Salestis had put them through, he would never help her cover up her crimes.
‘I had really expected this to be an easier choice,’ Salestis said.
‘You think my loyalties will simply change in the flicker of an instant?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Not at all,’ Salestis replied. ‘Surely your loyalties to your other friends would out-number those towards Unette?’
Archimegadon thought back to Mellara’s accusation in the prison cart, and wondered how the others would regard this choice. He was fairly certain that Mellara would happily testify against Unette to secure safety for the rest of them, and would have been surprised if Tharanor decided any other way. Obdo had a soft spot for Unette, but Neurion disapproved
of her, as she was a Cleric. Anjilo was friendly with Unette, and probably wouldn’t sell her out.
Cold logic favoured taking the option that would save most of his friends. But he’d defied Bartell under similar circumstances, and saved everyone too. Could he now put his values aside and treat with his enemy? Archimegadon refused to accept that.
‘I don’t know,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Why are you rushing the trial anyway? Surely you need more time to prepare?’
‘Hardly,’ Salestis replied. ‘The Order does not wait around to deliver justice once it knows the truth. And both the Central Council and the Knight Champion would like for Unette to be executed during the finale of the tournament, if they are convinced of her guilt.’
‘I see.’
Archimegadon could not decide. With the failure of their raid on the Crowntown Tea Factory heavy on his mind, he didn’t want to make the same mistake here. He also knew that letting the Order execute Ithalna would be something he’d never forgive himself for, but was that reason enough to throw away the chance to have all his other friends freed?
‘I tell you what,’ Salestis said. ‘I’ll let you have the next few hours to decide without the pressure of me or your friends sitting next to you. We have a nice little cell by itself for you to sit in while you think it over.’
As Salestis smiled down at him, Archimegadon just wished that he’d taken a ship from Arenfel and never bothered to get involved in this at all.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Lighting a Spark
Archimegadon felt an eternity pass in his solitary confinement. Left to languish by himself, far from the rest of the companions, he had only the memories of his failures to dwell upon. From his rash decision at Marr’s castle to spare Valia, to his choice to stay in Ferrina and assist the Blade, and finally the doomed alliance with Valia against the Shield, he could think of very few choices he’d made lately that had worked out well.
As to the deal Salestis had made him, he ran over that endlessly. If he sold out Ithalna, leaving her to be executed as a twisted show on the Grand Tournament’s final day, then he would free his companions and have the opportunity to run for it. On the other hand, if he went up against Salestis in the trial, perhaps he could find some way to bring the tyrant’s sinister plans to light, and have her kicked out instead.
But what was there that he could prove? From the sound of it, the Shield remnants had already been busy hiding the evidence of their plotting beneath Arenfel, and the damage done to the Crowntown Tea Factory could easily be put down to destructive but unfocused retaliation for Kherim’s execution, rather than because Valia had targeted the secret hideout of the Shield of Lut’yis.
Ithalna had spoken of how Salestis had planned the murder of the King. That was essentially where this business had all started, wasn’t it? The King was assassinated, Salestis became Regent, and from there the plan to use the Syrakh had blossomed, spear-headed by the sinister Shield of Lut’yis. That plan had been stopped, but what on earth could be proven about Salestis’s involvement in it now? Archimegadon had only Ithalna’s word that Salestis had murdered the King, and she was hardly a reliable witness against the Regent of Valanthas and her cohorts.
Would Lyssina provide some assistance? Archimegadon had no idea. She’d made no efforts to contact them since, and he couldn’t tell if she’d really been on their side. Presumably, she’d not been deceiving them on Salestis’s orders, or it was likely that the companions would never have got as far as the underground lair. Nonetheless, he didn’t expect much aid from her now.
Before he could come up with any plans for proving Salestis’s guilt, though, Archimegadon heard voices approaching his cell door, and shortly after he was taken down the route along which the petitions queue had trailed. Nobody spoke to him, and he was glad for it. Very few people seemed to be in evidence in the royal palace today, and he wondered if they were all at the tournament, where perhaps crowds had gathered for the surprise re-appearance of Unette Alhamis.
Speaking of her, she was present outside the ominous doors of Archimegadon’s destination. She’d been relieved of her Cleric robes, and was now garbed in regal reds and whites, reminding Archimegadon of her original stylings, back when she’d been sporting her artificially-blonde hair. Though her cut-short hair still looked rough, Archimegadon could now see her more as she must have been before the assassination, when she’d sat at her husband’s side as Queen of Valanthas.
Her face was grave as he was brought close to her, and she twisted in her guard’s grasp to regard him.
‘She has offered you a deal, has she not?’ Ithalna asked. ‘Listen, Ardon, you need to take the deal… I need to t…’
Before she could finish, her guard cuffed her hard across the back of the head. ‘Shut it, Your Majesty.’
Ithalna flushed, but she had a new magic shackle to replace the one the companions had used on her, and she was powerless right now to fight back effectively. She instead caught Archimegadon’s gaze, and her eyes seemed to be pleading with him. He tried to discern some meaning from them, but he hadn’t a clue what she would want to tell him.
Not long after that, several robed figures arrived, and the paladins all saluted as they ushered them through the large doors. Less than a minute later Salestis herself appeared, now clad in her ceremonial armour, with her helm tucked under one arm. Like earlier in the day, her hair was not braided, but she had neatened it up a bit and no longer appeared quite so exhausted. She smiled as she saw Archimegadon, and walked over to him.
‘I hope you have made the right choice,’ she said.
‘Of course,’ Archimegadon said.
Salestis’s eyes sparkled, and he wondered exactly what she was thinking. If she believed she was going to win, she had quite another thing coming.
Of course, he did need to think something up, first.
The meeting chamber doors were thrown fully open, and both Ithalna and Archimegadon were led inside. Archimegadon glared at the paintings of monarchs that lined the walls, before noticing just how many people had gathered in the room to observe the proceedings. Several tables had been set out facing the podium at the far end, and most of these tables were surrounded by stern and austere men and women in rich finery.
Archimegadon noticed a group of knights on the right, and at their head was a man in a regal blue cloak, whose helm had a tall crest atop it. He suspected that this was Knight Champion Terrek, leader of all the different orders that went under the banner of the Knights of Valanthas.
To Archimegadon’s left as he neared the podium was a delegation of paladins, with Salestis at their head. It surprised him momentarily that Salestis was not the one sitting at the central podium, but then he remembered that Salestis had said something about the Central Council being involved, and he pondered if they were the men and women sitting behind said podium, all glaring down at Unette.
Archimegadon looked around for the seats that he and Unette would be taking, but their guards held them still in front of the podium, while the leading councillor motioned for the doors to be closed.
‘Erm, don’t we get to sit down?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Shush,’ Ithalna replied.
The lead councillor cleared her throat. ‘Greetings, one and all. As representative of the Central Council, I, Aleks Ressia, shall be presiding over this – the trial of Unette Alhamis. I would now ask that Salestis de’Cirana, Regent of Valanthas and Supreme Commander of the Paladin Order, present to us the two prisoners here to be judged on this day.’
Salestis smiled ingratiatingly and stepped over to the podium, standing to one side, and she waved a hand at Archimegadon and Ithalna.
‘Thank you, Councillor Aleks,’ she said. ‘The first prisoner brought here today is Unette Alhamis, to be judged for regicide, sedition, and cultist activity. The other is her accomplice, Ardon Forseld, a former craftsman and mage who has involved himself in cultist plots across three cities now. Their guilt is plain enough that this trial is practically a forma
lity, as I am sure you are well aware.’
While he had known that Salestis was hardly on his side, her outright dismissal of him and everything he’d done lit a fire within Archimegadon. Before he could stop himself, he took a step towards the podium and tried to catch the lead councillor’s attention.
‘This is utter balls,’ Archimegadon said, and Aleks turned slowly to regard him, eyebrows raised. ‘I am no cultist – just a victim of what Salestis did in Ferrina! She destroyed the city right after the rest of us saved it! We were on the verge of rebuilding it, and she turned it into a war zone.’
Salestis just laughed.
Despite internal warnings against it, Archimegadon plunged on regardless, fixing his glare on Salestis. ‘Tell us, then, what good your policies have done since you became Regent of Valanthas? You’ve managed to alienate half of the kingdom’s armies and brought us to the brink of civil war!’
There was some muttering in the audience at this, and a few of the knights chuckled. Terrek held up a hand to silence them, and they all resumed their formal poses.
‘Do try to control yourself,’ Salestis said. ‘You are correct – the various plots that I have been challenged to uncover have indeed brought the kingdom much strife, but today we have caught the major player behind them, and now we may put an end to this painful chapter in the history of Valanthas.’
Salestis gestured for Ithalna to be brought forward, and had her turned to face the crowd like an antique up for auction. While the crowd talked amongst itself, too low for Archimegadon to really gauge the mood, Ithalna stared above their heads in quiet defiance, unwilling to be ruffled by the circumstances in which she found herself.
‘Now, I have a list of accusations made against Unette Alhamis here,’ Salestis said, drawing forth a sheet of paper. ‘Foremost of them is that of murdering King Colarme V, her husband, involvement in the activities of the Cleric organisation run by her father, the traitor Orgus Alhamis, and furthermore in allying with the outcast knight Valia Relassis, whose demons have caused widespread damage and death in various parts of the kingdom.’