Chapter Nine

One by one, the great lords and important people of the realm filed into the room. Every part of the Kingdom had their representatives, and even the Priests of Anim, known as the Anima, were accounted for, to try to ensure that whatever decisions made were in line with their religious teachings. Then there was the spymaster, and the treasurer. There would be no empty chairs this time. The King was of course at the head of the table, with his brother at his right. Favian Slynn had taken the position at his other side, something which was unlikely to please the other lords, considering the man was not part of any noble family at all. Ariana took a seat next to Maddon in one of the overly large council chairs.

“Another bloody council meeting,” she complained with a sigh. “How many more do we need before we can just get on with our lives?”

“Would you rather we didn’t decide what to do about the miners?” asked Maddon. “I mean a thousand of them stole and hid a massive amount of brimstone, but council meetings aren’t as interesting as battering someone with a practice sword or shooting sticks at a target, so let’s not bother.”

“Yes, I realise decisions need to be made, I was just making a point,” huffed Ariana. “You don’t have to be a prat about it.”

When everyone was seated and the loud scraping of chairs had ended, the King stood up to speak, his still injured arm stiff by his side.

“As some of you will be aware, there has been some bad news as far as the miners are concerned. For those who don’t know, Mr Tesserell can explain.”

The man stood up to speak, clearing his throat. His movement suggested the action was painful, and he clearly hadn’t managed to avoid the recent violence.

“Thank you your highness. I went with a force of King’s men, armed only with staffs, to demand that the miners abandon the brimstone they were illegally keeping from us. On their leader Dain Hardwood’s orders, they refused, and so I ordered the men forwards. However, it was immediately obvious that there were more men than we expected, and even more charged from the forests behind us when the lines engaged. They routed our men and I was taken to Mr Hardwood,” said the man, pausing and looking around the room. “He had just come across a dead miner, and in retaliation said he would take the brimstone to a place of his choosing, and would not negotiate further unless we met his demands. He said that he would respond with violence to further aggressive action, but did not seek any hostilities.”

He sat down, while unhappy voices assimilated the new information.

“Yes, why would we think he sought hostilities?” Maddon said in a low voice. “He only attacked Slynn’s guards, stole a few tonnes of brimstone, and threatened the King. He sounds a very peaceable man.”

“It’s an outrage!” cried one of the lords. “We cannot allow mere peasants to attack King’s men and dictate terms to us like this! It will give the others ideas. They’re an unruly bunch at the best of times. One lot of farmers killed the overseer at a manor the other day! We cannot allow this violence!”

“Well technically they’re a bit more than peasants, the brimstone miners have been freemen since The Settlement,” corrected Ariana, “and our men attacked them, but go on.”

“What I want to know,” said Prince John darkly, “is why our esteemed council member here said there were only about one hundred of them, when there were actually...how many would you say Mr Tesserell?”

“It’s hard to say, your highness, it was dark, but I would not be surprised if it ended up as close to one thousand.”

John gestured towards Slynn.

“Exactly. So why did Mister Slynn inform us otherwise?” he asked the room, deliberately putting an emphasis on his lack of titles. He sat back, as all eyes turned to the mine owner, who coughed, and glared at the prince.

“My information was correct, I reported what I saw at the time. How was I to know that their numbers would increase so dramatically before we could hear about it?” he argued. “Did you foresee this happening?”

“Perhaps because you own most of the mines?” replied John, ignoring the question. “Maybe if you spent less time in the castle and more time paying attention to the people in your employ then something like this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You may not realise it but I have important duties in the castle,” huffed Favian. “I earned my place on the council.”

“Well if your duties are taking up your time then I’m sure there’s a solution,” said John darkly.

“Who do you think would win in a fistfight?” murmured Ariana as she watched the argument unfold. “My money’s on John.”

“I don’t know, John looks stronger, but I heard Slynn grew up in the Southside alleys, I think he could handle himself if it was without weapons,” replied Maddon, also watching intently.

“If the numbers were clearly more than we expected then why did Mr Tesserell give the order for the men to attack anyway?” asked Favian.

“I was following the orders I was given,” he argued. “They were unarmed and untrained, I expected them to fall back. If they had not had men hidden then it would most likely have gone in our favour.”

“We can sit here laying blame all day,” said the King, silencing the arguing. “It’s irrelevant. Mistakes were made, and we need to fix them. Spymaster, do you have anything to comment?”

Mr Duskwalker nodded, his black ponytail swaying.

“Well your highness, it seems that in general the common people are fully behind the miners, and believe their actions were justifiable. As to whether their beliefs would lead to active support, it is hard to say.”

“I presume you could insert some hired eyes into the camp,” said King Berin.

“I know some men who would be willing,” said the spymaster. “Would you like me to give them the order?”

“Your highness, would it not make more sense if I found some retired miners to do the job?” asked Slynn coolly. “It would be easy to do, I know a few of them, and they wouldn’t stand out so much. A man with no background would stand out a mile, even among so many men.”

“We can do both,” said the King. “There’s no harm in having too much information. As for our next course of action, please speak if you have an opinion.”

One of the Lords, a rotund man with a jowly face from the Moredent family, raised a hand.

“Mr Tesserell, you seem the best person to ask about this. To what extent did you feel the miners were influenced by this Hardwood man? If he were to disappear, would the rest of them be more agreeable?”

Ariana felt uneasy at the question, and Mr Tesserell seemed surprised by it.

“If he had ordered them to back down then I imagine they would have, but it’s hard to say what they would do without a leader, there could be any number of people wanting to take the role.”

“Were you suggesting we hire an assassin?” asked another one of the lords, frowning.

“Well there’s more than one way to make a man disappear. He just needs the right incentive. A bit of money would do the trick I imagine.”

“If money was all it took then we could bribe him to order the men to stand down,” said Favian, leaning forwards to speak. “But I doubt that would work, the man lost his son in a mine collapse and seems to have got it into his head that what he’s doing is for his memory. Although of course, if he were to have an accident, then his replacement may be more open to persuasion.”

There was a moment of silence after this suggestion as the room contemplated it.

“How would that help with getting the people on our side?” asked Ariana unhappily. “We’ve already ended up killing at least one miner, now you want to kill another?”

Favian shrugged.

“If his life is the only one which needs to be sacrificed for the issue to be solved then yes, I believe we should. It’s surely better than sending troops after the rest of them. We should not be held back by feminine squeamishness.”

“Well the Anima would obviously stand against any violence,” said the priest, frowning. “Would it be unreasonable to meet their demands?”

“Trust a priest to be on the miners’ side,” muttered Maddon, sighing.

“Because priests have a moral code which you don’t?” Ariana retorted.

“It would not do to give in to threats from a few commoners,” said one of the Lords. “I say just leave them. What can they do? They’ll run out of money for food in a week or two and then return peacefully to their jobs.”

“I am of this opinion as well,” said the King, who had been quietly thinking while the discussion went on in front of him. “I do not wish to give anybody any further excuse to hate us, and Hardwood seems not to be looking for violence, so we’ll leave him be. In the meantime, we can organise a brimstone route from the remaining mines straight to the capital, and guard it sufficiently. The physicians don’t use much and the need for hellfire is not pressing. We have a large store of it, so we can make do with that. That should also send the message that their strike is pointless. Favian, you will contact the other mine owners and organise that, and I will also leave you in charge of all matters to do with the strike while King Uric is visiting. I do not wish to give him the impression of a weak Kingdom, so only approach me if it is an emergency.”

“Excuse me, you’re leaving him in charge?” asked John incredulously. “He’s the cause of this entire problem!”

“I think you are forgetting your place, dear brother,” said Berin. “I am the King, and I believe that Favian is the best man for the job. He knows these people better than anyone.”

“He also makes a good person to lay all the blame on if it all goes to shit,” Maddon noted.

Ariana nodded. She hadn’t thought of that, but unlike all the Lords from powerful families around them, Favian was just a mine owner who had earned a place on the council because he had been useful in solving the King’s problems. He could be discarded at any point, whereas the Lords provided men for the army and food to keep the massive capital alive.

“Now, there is plenty more we need to discuss, so let’s be moving on,” said the King. “We’ve yet to even begin on taxes.”

Ariana groaned inwardly, and her mind drifted to the upcoming tournament. It wasn’t far off now, she just needed to be patient. She sighed, looking around the room. Not her speciality.

***

A mass of people had gathered in the castle courtyard, where a wooden pole stood on a platform of wet sand. All had gathered to witness the event. There was excitement in the air and their voices melded together into an incomprehensible babble which drifted up to the royal party on the large stone balcony overlooking it. The day was cloudy, but the sun still made an appearance to give some warmth to the proceedings, and the atmosphere seemed jovial. The commoners did love a public event, and there hadn’t been enough space to fit in everyone who wished to see it.

To Ariana, it seemed a little sick. She didn’t understand why people turned up to watch. It required a slightly warped mind in her opinion, although Maddon hadn’t seemed to share her misgivings. Perhaps that said something about him, or maybe he just enjoyed reminding people of his moment of glory in bringing this about.

“Isn’t it about time to bring him out?” asked her brother, just as the trumpets blew and the bedraggled, shirtless figure was escorted onto the platform in the centre of the courtyard. Having spent all the time since his capture in the dungeons with poor quality food he looked the worse for wear, although he hadn’t been tortured, and walked without difficulty. In her opinion the no torture policy worked in their favour. It was easier to hate a man when he was strong and unbroken, it made him seem more deserving of punishment.

The man made a sudden lunge at one of the men holding him, bringing his bound hands around to strike at his face. The people watching roared in disbelief, then cheered as he was knocked to the ground, and beaten into submission. Maddon laughed.

“How did he think he would get away? It gives us a good show, but it would be better if he just accepted his fate with dignity, don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” agreed John, a step behind the main group, with his three eldest children. Devin, the youngest, was not here to witness any of it. A good thing, probably. Quinlan was also invited to watch, and stood in the shade behind her cousin Seraphina, at the back of the family.

“I don’t blame him,” she said, looking up at her father. “You would have to try, wouldn’t you?”

The bloodied and beaten man was tied up securely to the pole in the centre of the stage, not struggling any more. Some of the audience threw insults, and the odd projectile at him, but did not advance past the line of armed guards preventing them. Ariana looked at his face, terrified by the spectacle. This man may be guilty, but it did not feel like justice to turn it into a spectator sport in front of a baying mob. Trumpets sounded again, and the crowd fell silent. King Berin stepped forwards to speak, the Queen at his side, his voice cutting through the mumbling below.

“This man has been found guilty of high treason, and by the sacred laws of our kingdom, been sentenced to die. If his soul is truly good and pure, he shall be able to suffer the pain of his punishment in silence without complaint. Only then can Anim judge him fairly and declare him worthy of forgiveness. If he cannot, he is condemned to join Aterus in his black realm for eternity, and forever feel the pain of his death.”

The crowd cheered, and the King stepped back from the stone railings, over which Farhorn banner was draped.

“Time to place your bets, murmured Maddon, not looking away from the scene below.

The King’s justice stepped onto the platform with a long knife in hand, and the chatter was replaced by tense expectation. This part was reserved for particularly heinous crimes. The blade of the ominous black-clad figure flashed twice in the sunlight, and the victim gasped, his face contorting horribly as his stomach was slashed in a wide ‘X’ shape. Ariana winced, but didn’t look away as the King’s justice reached in, and the shuddering man’s intestines were gently pulled out to hang in front of him. The poor victim managed to not make a sound, but his chest was heaving as he panted rapidly, looking away from his mutilated stomach and up at the sky as blood dribbled down onto the sand underneath him. A man could survive for hours like that, before infection set in. Thankfully, there was a quicker solution.

At the King’s signal, a man ran out carrying a small barrel. Excitement rose in the crowd as the cloudy, viscous liquid dripped in large globules onto the man.

“Trial by fire,” Ariana muttered bitterly, feeling bile well up in her throat as the man with a barrel moved away, and a torch bearer came forwards. She glanced over to the others. Maddon was watching calmly, showing no reaction to the burning, and Seraphina had looked away. Most had forced impassive expressions onto their faces. They had to stand by their sacred justice after all. It was disgusting really, this whole idea. She understood the man had to die, but she couldn’t see what made people want to come to watch this cruel end. What was wrong with them?

With a sudden thundering roar, the liquid caught fire, engulfing the man in seconds. Evidently, and unsurprisingly, he was not able to endure the pain and screams rang out through the courtyard. Most had to shield their eyes from the glaring orange flames, and it was not long before the noise of the dying man subsided.

“Not of pure soul then,” noted Maddon quietly. Ariana tutted. That was in poor taste. She blinked, the bright afterimage playing across her eyelids while the flames shrank in size. Thankfully they were far enough away not to be able to smell the burned flesh. The wooden pole cracked and collapsed, the body falling with it and crumbling at the impact of hitting the ground. Almost nothing remained of what had previously been a man, and he was apparently condemned to burn like that in eternity for his crimes. If that was how Gods treated people she wasn’t sure she wanted anything to do with them.

The King stepped forwards to the front of the balcony again.

“The sentence has been carried out. May that be a lesson to all who try to strike against our Kingdom.”

The crowd half-heartedly cheered his words, and began to disperse, the main excitement of the day over. The family likewise made their way back into the shade of the castle. Ariana waited until everyone had moved away and her father was out of earshot to say what was on her mind to Maddon.

“So do you think this whole thing is worth it then?” asked Ariana. “If nothing else, it’s a waste of hellfire.”

Maddon sighed exasperatedly.

“The man deserved to die, he committed treason. And if we’re going to execute him we might as well have fun with it. The hellfire reminds them of our strength and they enjoy seeing it,” said her brother. “As for the burning in eternity, that’s just a nice touch to add on so that the traitors are shown as unfaithful cowards for not enduring the pain like men.”

Have fun with it? How callous could he be?

“If he’s a coward then what are you?” she asked. “That man showed more bravery than I’ve ever seen from you. He might be a traitor but he had his guts spilling out without a scream. Do you think you could do any better?”

“We’ll never know, will we?” said Maddon, his eyes flashing with anger. I don’t intend on committing treason, if that is even possible for an heir.”

“No, we won’t,” said Ariana. “Because something like treason actually requires you to try to kill or fight, and you barely even have the bravery to face your opponents in a tournament without trying to find someone to do the fighting for you. When you’re King, if people see cowardice or weakness in you they will rip you apart. Maddon the meek is not someone who will keep their crown.”

“Careful with what you say,” warned the prince coldly. “I might not enjoy fighting but I am not a coward. You would do well to remember that, given that I’m to be ruling while you scurry off to some other Kingdom to wait on your prince’s beck and call. You can care for your poor traitors there. Nobody here will even remember you.”

His words pierced her like knives, cutting right to the heart of what had been tormenting her. Ariana reached out and grabbed his blue quilted shirt, bringing him close. After all the stress surrounding this potential marriage, she was nearing her breaking point.

“Aren’t you just so lucky that you were born first?” she said. “If I were male it would not even be a contest over who would make a more popular King. You might as well not bother fighting this tournament. It’ll be less embarrassing for you.”

She shoved him to the ground, sending him sliding across the stone floor. Her look dared him to fight back. He didn’t try, but the look on his face was murderous.

“Worry about yourself, I’ll do just fine,” he said, as he forced himself to his feet, brushing himself off. “Why don’t you just make yourself look pretty for the prince to arrive?”

He turned away and left. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Perhaps she should be a little more wary of her brother. If anyone could find a way to win despite their lack of aptitude, it was him. His reply suggested he had something in mind, but Ariana put it out of her thoughts. He was probably just trying to put on a front. It was a melee. Maddon’s only way to win would be to train and fight like everyone else.

Next Chapter: Chapter Ten