Beyond The Wall Read online

  Chapter 3

  “A man’s home is his alone, by rights older then this kingdom, what are we if we let this injustice continue?” yelled Di Orin from behind his wiry, grey beard, “they’re in the lanes that lead to my house, they camp themselves in my garden, one of them was so bold I had to chase her from my roof.”

  The onlookers laughed.

  “Quiet,” said Orleena from the Chair her high pitched voice cut through the air causing the audience to hush.

  “I demand justice from the Chair. I have worked hard in tar pits for your grandfather and I deserve my home to be untouched by vagrants.”

  “The Chair doesn’t have a grandfather, Di Orin,” sighed Orleena and then added, “but I am sure the Emperor is grateful for your service, but as I told you a week ago and the week before that, I do not command the city guard, you must take your complaints to the Chancellor. The patrol has orders to chase the vagrants away when they spot them, which they do. The Chair has nothing more to add.”

  “And yet they’re still there when I wake in morning, even starting fires in my garden to cook their breakfast. The patrols does nothing for our justice,” Di Orin shouted.

  Orleena raised her hand to her face in frustration.

  “I have granted you the right to hire your own guard, if you choose.”

  “So that is the way of it, then,” started Di Orin.

  Orleena fell back in the wooden chair still too large for her ten year old body. Here was the speech she had heard ever week for the last year when Di Orin had blustered at the clerk, demanding to be heard.

  “Roland was a poor, hard working man, like me, and when he formed the great nation of the north he did so believing one thing sacred above all else, a man had right to his land and his wealth.

  “And now you sit on your chair and declaring you wield his sacred justice, the great justice of Roland, but you wield nothing if our most sacred of traditions are spat upon. Do you deny my charge?”

  “The Chair does what it can, I do not run the city,” Orleena replied, she always hated the energy the elders of city would bring to the court, it was exhausting.

  “Then, to the court, I denounce your right to sit upon the Chair,” shouted Di Orin to crowd that looked upon, clearly annoyed that their own cases were being ignored, “that is a chair for someone who has the will to enforce our laws and protect our traditions.”

  Take the damn chair from me, thought Orleena. She had loved it at first when her father had placed her upon it two years earlier, causing him to become the object of ridicule from the merchants and Royal Kin. Though when the mockery had reached her father’s ear the detractors regretted their words. Pa had the men and women stripped and beaten in central square, charged with insulting the Chair and Roland’s justice.

  Quickly, the people had learnt not to speak against Orleena, even in private, but soon the silence that came from the fear Pa had instilled in them, had begun to come from a respect for her. She had proved herself a level and fair Chair.

  When Pa had first brought her to court he had asked what she thought on a simple case of a servant stealing a twenty wings from his master, a wealthy merchant. The servant pleaded for forgiveness and explained his master had failed to pay his wages for two years. She consult her father in private while the people looked on from the floor. A thrill took her when she heard her father use her very words when making his final judgement, demanding the merchant give the servant the wings he was owed plus another twenty as a penalty.

  Since that day, Orleena had buried herself in all the books of law and philosophy she could find in the libraries of the Royal Keep. She demand Shepherd Elor teach her nothing but argument and ways of the reasoning. He refused, of course, but if she read her histories, learnt her names and practice her languages quickly, he would set up a small court and she enact Elena’s justice with a court of dolls with Shepherd Elor as the defendant. As the months passed she became obsessed with Roland and all the teachings of the ancient hero, always annoyed when others demand she concentrate on something else.

  Pa was ecstatic at the news and over the dinner table he would challenge her with puzzles and when she answered, he would cheer and tell her how smart she was, Olav would grumble to himself and try to turn the conversation towards his military training, which made her father’s praise even more addictive.

  When she was seven her father had started to put her on the Chair each week on Zeria’s day and after a few months the common folk started to pack the courts on the day she donned the robes in place of her father.

  Some people came just to see the novelty of the young Princess only a few feet tall decided the affairs of grown adults. The merchants came because she was faster and more predictable than her father. The Royal Kin came to be seen with her and invite her to their private court, her father would then appear and chase them away.

  As the months passed, Pa would be called away on urgent business at the keep and Orleena would take the court in his place until just after her eighth birthday she realised she was taking the Chair every day in place of her father while he found himself busy with the important work of a Low King.

  Then Orleena had started to lose her love for the chair. The master who had robbed the servant of his wages during Orleena’s first ruling appeared again and again each time with a different servant in tow. Every time Orleena would give the same verdict, but increased the penalty each time. Yet, as though oblivious to what had come before, the merchant would burst into a fury when she ruled against him. Sometimes, she wondered if she was simply mad and she had never seen the man before.

  “Clerk, please record that Di Orin has denounce my claim to sit upon this Chair, again,” said Orleena to the clerk who wrote the statement in the ledger.

  “I will see it,” demanded Di Orin and walked over the large tome and looked over the shoulder of the clerk, then nodded, satisfied, “then who will join me in denouncing this broken Chair.”

  “Shut up, old man,” yelled a commoner from the back and then to Orleena, “I seek justice, my lady, hear me, please.”

  She raised her small hand to the man and he fell silent.

  “Come,” cried Di Orin to the crowd, “we must not let Roland’s justice be sullied.”

  Orleena sat and silently watched the old man try and rally the uninterested audience for a while, her eyes started to become heavy after the hours spent in the hard wooden chair.

  “Very well, Di Orin,” she said, “I still sit upon the Chair, Roland still wishes me to speak for him. Clerk, please, note that. Are you finished with the Chair?”

  “You’re all fools,” shouted Di Orin at the crowd and started to push his way to the large open arch of the court entrance.

  “I’ll remind the patrol to be at your house at dawn, Di Orin,” called Orleena after him.

  “Bah,” dismissed Di Orin and continued to push through to the archway.

  “Clerk, send a message to the guard to pass by Di Orin’s house at dawn and clear away anyone they find on his land,” said Orleena quietly to the clerk.

  “Yes, my lady,” he replied and took an piece of broken clay from a nook inside his high table, “the court is done for the day then, my lady, I left Di Orin til last, hoping he would just leave.”

  “The Chair is empty for the day, it will be occupied again tomorrow at the midday. Guards clear the court,” she recited without an energy having said the words so many times before and then dropped from the chair.

  “The Chair stands,” shouted the clerk not looking up from the clay piece he was writing on and pushed back the high chair he sat upon, not losing or gaining an inch of height in process as he continued to scratch at the clay.

  Those that had taken seats at the side of open hall of the court all stood.

  “My lady, please you must hear me today,” cried a man from the floor, he wore stained shirts and leather pants of a common workers.

  Orleena ignored the man and began to untie the black sash that held the o
range robes of the Chair around her. A guard started to approach the commoner.

  “Please, my Princess, I have had a plea with clerk for a week,” he cried, “I must be heard.”

  “Is that true?” asked Orleena quietly so no one else could hear, she did not stop removing the orange robes of the Chair.

  The clerk looked up from his desk.

  “We are keeping the case for Di Aliza, he has told me not to subject you to these matters.”

  “What are charges?”

  “Murder, my lady,” said clerk simply, “the assailant is being held and we will deal with it when Di Aliza returns.”

  Orleena turned to the man.

  “Di Aliza has requested you be patient, he will deal with the matter when he returns to Hallow’s Keep.”

  “Princess, please,” he said, “I am moving my family to Edgelight to start a new life, I must have justice before I leave.”

  Orleena turned back to clerk.

  “Who was the victim?”

  “The man’s wife,” said the clerk but then added, “my lady, your uncle has insisted you will not concern with such matters.”

  Orleena was accustomed to the clerks blunt nature, but a fury took her when he dared to give her orders.

  “If Di Aliza wants to insist on something he can sit on the Chair and make the demands from there,” snapped Orleena loudly, her voice cutting through the rooms making a few guards turn their heads, “until then this is my court and you are my clerk and you will not tell me what or what is not my concern.”

  “Yes, my lady,” said the clerk lowering his head.

  “A coward hides behinds the words of another,” she spat with the anger of her father.

  The clerk remained silent.

  Orleena turned back to the man and pulled the robes back round her body tying the sash.

  “I will hear your case. Gaoler fetch the accused, guards clear the court of any who are not in this place to hear the justice.”

  The gaoler vanished out the small backdoor.

  “No new cases, no callers will be tolerated,” shouted the Head Guard, “the court is closed to all except those who are here to listen. Da Samuel, I want you gone.”

  The people started to clear the chamber and Orleena pulled herself back onto the Chair and the clerk pulled his chair back.

  “You will stand,” said Orleena quietly to the clerk and he pushed the chair away.

  The man came forward into the area marked with blood red tiles, where those that were to be heard stood.

  “What is your name?” asked Orleena.

  “Di Jaen,” replied the man.

  “How long have you been in Hallow’s Keep?”

  “A few years,” said the man, “I have retired from the tar pits.”

  Orleena nodded.

  “The common people speak fondly of you, my Princess, you are known as the most just and fair of the Royal Kin.”

  Orleena raised her hand and the man stopped.

  “You do not speak to the Chair of justice or fairness,” she said with as much harshness as her young voice as she could, “Roland is fair and justice, I merely follow his way the best I can.”

  Uncle had taught Orleena never to listen to the praises of those who came before her, she was there to give justice, he had explained, not to love or be loved. Pa had always told her that it was nonsense and that she should be comfortable with the commoners love, as she would receive much of it in her life.

  Orleena had listened to Pa and let the Hallowmen speak to her with whatever kind words they chose, but overtime, after seeing the true nature of the men of said such things, she quickly began to find the words disgusting and vile until she refused to entertain them anymore.

  “Forgive me, my Princess,” he said and knelt, “I have never been to court before and the fool has my tongue.”

  “Rise, there is no princess here, just a Chair and it will be addressed as such,” she said and guilt suddenly took her for chastising the poor man, “speak clear and true and you will have justice.”

  The clerk beside her called over a messenger boy, handing him a silver coin and the clay piece.

  “Get this to the city guard, from the Chair,” he said simply.

  The boy nodded and stuck the coin into the pouch on his belt, a short dagger hung next to it. The boy hurried from the court, through the open arch into the street beyond that was still full of people going about their daily business.

  The court became quiet as the guards brought order to the room. After a while the gaoler returned in tow was a tall, wiry boy, barely older than Orleena, with heavy, iron shackles weighing down his arms. The gaoler pushed the boy into the red tiles.

  “The Chair will hear the next plea,” called Orleena

  “Let Roland and the three Gods hear the pleas of Di Jaen,” called the clerk, “accuses Dawr the Arn of the murder of his wife.”

  Dawr was the name given to Arn who refused to identify themselves.

  “How old is the boy?” asked Orleena quietly to clerk.

  “Thirteen, my lady.”

  Orleena turned to the boy in chains, his head hung low, obscuring his face behind a mass of wild black hair.

  “Do you elect a guardian to speak with you?” asked Orleena.

  The boy was silent.

  “The Chair will hear you speak,” ordered Orleena.

  The boy just stood, swaying slightly.

  “Shepherd Elor, will you council the boy?” sighed Orleena.

  “I will, if the Chair wishes it,” said Shepherd Elor from behind her.

  “Do you except the Shepherd’s council?” asked Orleena.

  The boy did not respond.

  “Shepherd Elor, if you would.”

  Elor walked forward from the shadows behind the chair into the hard red light of the dusk that filled the space, his long, red robes shimmered as he moved. He took his place next to the Arn boy.

  “Di Jaen, how do you know Dawr murdered your wife?” asked Orleena flatly, the court was not a place of kindness.

  “My son, who’s twelve… he came home from his job at the butchery and found the boy over my wife a knife,” said Di Jaen his voice starting to break, “my son is large for a boy and was able to wrestle him to the ground and pin him and then he yelled for help. My neighbours got the guards and when they found him… my boy was covered in her blood.”

  Di Jaen lost control of his emotions.

  “Do we have any report from the guards?” asked Orleena to the clerk.

  “Yes, my lady,” said the clerk and handed her the parchment.

  On it was scribbled a basic account of murderer, the boy had not spoken after he was taken by the guards. The two daughters had also seen their mother’s body before their father return.

  “Have you sent your wife on?” asked Orleena.

  “Yes, she floats amongst the mangroves.”

  Orleena paused for the moment and then turned attention to the boy in shackles.

  “Dawr, do you deny these charges?” asked Orleena.

  The boy was silent.

  “Dawr is not yet a man and so can not be held fully accountable for his actions,” said Shepherd Elor from behind.

  “The Shepherd is to council you, Dawr, you will acknowledge the chair.”

  The boy was quiet.

  “Speak for yourself, boy,” barked Orleena.

  The room was silent.

  Orleena pushed herself off the chair.

  “The Chair stands,” shouted the clerk.

  “Why do you not speak?” she yelled as she walked to the floor, “show me you have a tongue.”

  Dawr lifted his head and looked at her with a pair of bright, silver eyes. He stuck his tongue out at her and for moment her senses took her, he was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen.

  “Why did you do it?” she asked low staring into the strange silver of his eyes.

  “‘Cause I could,” he said simply.

  “Then you accept the charges.”

/>   The boy was silent but he did not look away.

  “Dawr does not need to accept any charges laid by you or the Di Jaen,” snapped Shepherd Elor, “but if you find otherwise you must remember his actions are of a young mind.”

  “Your immature mind is noted by the Chair,” spat Orleena at the boy who now just stared at her.

  Orleena sat herself back on her chair and looked at the child, the pages of her books and their wisdom come to her. The boy did not look away. The court became tense as the silence grew.

  “What little there was of your defence has been heard and the Chair will take your life for the one that has taken.”

  The audience started to murmur amongst themselves.

  “Thank you, my lady,” exclaimed Di Jaen.

  “The Chair is hasty,” shouted Shepherd Elor quieting the crowd, “a boy can not be put to death. His life is not his own.”

  “Will you die for him then, Shepherd?” asked Orleena flatly.

  “I am not his father.”

  “Then you will not,” said Orleena she turned to the crowd, “if a girl of ten years can dispense the justice of Roland then a murderer of thirteen can accept it. That is our way.”

  The room was silent.

  “Gaoler, let it be known Dawr the Arn is sentenced to death. Those that wish to console him will be given free access for a day, those that wish to throw stones at him will be given access for a day, a single stone no bigger then his fist. On the third day, he will be buried to his neck in marsh and left to the beasts.”

  Orleena looked down at the boy, he had not flinched or moved, he simply watched her with his silver, clear, powerful eyes.

  “The Chair must reconsider,” shouted Shepherd Elor.

  “The Chair will not,” said Orleena, “Roland’s justice is done, the Chair will hear no more.”

  The gaoler came forth a grabbed the young Arn, the chamber came alive with chatter.

  “Thank you, thank you, my Princess,” cried Di Jaen, “you are just and true, my children will sing your name all the way to Edgelight.”

  She raised her hand to him but he kept calling her praises.

  “The Chair is empty for the day, it will be occupied again tomorrow at the midday. Guards clear the court,” shouted Orleena and pushed herself from the Chair.

  “The Chair stands.”

  She turned from the noise of the crowd and untied the sash from her waste.

  “You do not decide what pleas I hear,” said Orleena quietly to the clerk.

  “Yes, my lady,” said the clerk quietly and added, “a message for you.”

  “Speak,” she ordered as she removed the orange robes from her small frame.

  “Emperor Di Soven seeks your audience at the keep before you head to your tower,” said the clerk.

  “Very well,” she sighed heavily with exhaustion and handed the clerk her robe and sash.

  Shepherd Elor approached from the floor.

  “Orleena, you must reconsider your…” said Elor with the tone of a teacher talking to a student.

  Orleena raised her hand to Shepherd Elor and immediately felt terrible for defying him. He was not an unknown face, he was a man she loved and trusted since she could remember.

  “I do not want to hear about it,” she said softly, lowering her hand, “the Chair has made the ruling. Now, please, let it be done.”

  “This is not about the Chair, Orleena. You must hear me, you don’t know how dangerous that ruling is.”

  “I know what I do and know exactly what it means,” growled Orleena.

  “That boy does not realise what he has done, he sees life as a game. He needs someone to show him it is not, death teaches him nothing.”

  “Do you claim to know better than the Chair?”

  The blood flowed uncontrolled with anger and exhaustion as she waited for Shepherd Elor to respond.

  “This is not the last you will here of this,” he said holding himself back.

  “Then I will hear it then. Another time,” she said softly, “Grand Pa has summoned me, will you come?”

  Shepherd Elor straightened himself up and sighed

  “Very well.”

  The crowd parted as Shepherd Elor and Orleena left the hall into the street, the sun had started to set. A horse drawn carriage awaited for them at the entrance to the courthouse. Elor helped Orleena up the high wooden stairs and then pulled himself up as well and hit the roof. The carriage lurched forward as the horses began to trot forward.

  Orleena watched the city pass by her window. The streets had once been too narrow and winding for any such carriage to make it through the city only a few years ago, but now Grand Pa had come back from the front lines and his treasury bursting with the wealth of the tar trade. So, he had found a handful of Kaborn engineers to help him build a single, stone road that connected the Five Royal Towers and the Royal Keep itself. So impressed by the quality of the road Grand Pa now spent his days planning the new expansion of the city. A second wall was almost complete, creating a new precinct on the western side of Hallow’s Keep and work had already begun, in the space between the walls, on stone roads for the new district that the commoner’s had started to call Lowtown. Some had already pitched tents and build shacks where the land was dry, but Grand Pa planned to remove them all once the roads were done and build a marvellous new city to rival the glorious twin cities, Marn’lay and To’anray.

  The Royal Keep was only a few streets from the courthouse, but the road was only wide enough for one carriage, so Orleena’s carriage had to complete a full circuit of the city before finally coming to rest at its destination. Elor helped Orleena disembark and the two found their way to Grand Pa’s war room.

  Grand Pa stood over the large, wooden table, a leather map of the whole land stretched before him. Little circular disc of all colours dotted the map from the southern tip of Hallow’s Swamp to the frozen mountains of the Crown in the north.

  Grand Pa was a tall, slender man who, even in his old age had skin as smooth as porcelain, his skin pale with only a hint of pink to it. His hair was a mane of long, straight hair, once it was black with a sheen that glistened in light, though over the last few years it had turned an amazing silver. Since he had return. he had not cut his hair letting it fall down to the middle of his back, he tucked it neatly behind his large ears.

  “Orleena,” he said with a bright voice.

  “Grand Pa,” she replied and bowed.

  “Elor,” he said flatly with no warmth.

  “Di Soven,” Elor replied and found a wall to stand against, strong and still.

  “Would you like some dinner?” asked Grand Pa taking a spoonful of stew from his bowl.

  “Dinner awaits me in my tower,” replied Orleena.

  “Then I won’t keep you long.”

  Orleena pulled a chair up to the war table and stood herself upon it. Her map was so much smaller, only showing the lands just to north and east. She loved to look over this map, a map of every land known and the armies that marched across it.

  “You father sends news from the Lowlands,” said Grand Pa, “he has taken most of holds and villages of worth. It will be the first land brought into our Empire.”

  “Pa is a great commander,” replied Orleena flatly.

  “He has founded a capital on the shore and named it Orleena, after you,” said Grand Pa triumphantly.

  Orleena nodded and looked at the table.

  “Are you not proud?”

  “Very proud,” she said simply, ”tell Pa I miss him and hope he returns soon.”

  Grand Pa sipped his soup.

  “The Kaborn have Douruh,” said Orleena to the map.

  “Yes, they have pushed their advantage, they have both Red Sails and Hawkescliff and with that they own the bay of storms.”

  “They have cut the east from the Heartland.”

  “It won’t be long til they take Frys and Sia or they surrender themselves. The Quillan never had the stomach for battle,” Grand Pa pu
t down the bowl and pointed to the north, “The Free Men have risen up against the Dun and have pushed them back to the forests. Though the Dun stubbornly hold onto the Fork, but they will be starved out in time.”

  “More pirates than before,” said Orleena motioning to the black circles on the eastern coast of Hallow’s Swamp.

  “With tar the price it is there are more pirates than ever. I made more coin when price was a quarter of what it is now. Olav is doing his best to keep them at bay, but for every galley you sink another sets sail from the Isle.”

  “Take The Rough, Grand Pa,” said Orleena forcefully, “the ships take too long from Edgelight. Take the port and hold the line there.

  “The ships can try and make it around the open sea, but most will be sunk by storms or lost. We can protect the trade ships til they reach Sylaway and then the Sowan or Kaborn can keep the ships safe.”

  “You certainly think quickly, Orleena,” laughed Grand Pa.

  “I have maps in my towers, I have been thinking about it since merchants started to complain about the pirates a year. At that point the siege would not have been worth the manpower, but maybe it is now.”

  “And how would we take the Rough, the Silent Stone is impenetrable?”

  “You don’t need the tower,” said Orleena pointing at the map, “you just need the port, the Silent Ones can lock themselves in their tower, we take their city.”

  “The Imperial Navy are the only ones who would come to their aid,” said Grand Pa chewing his lip, “but they will stay away if we show it will give us an advantage over the pirates. And The Rough would increase our border significantly and give us some extra trade routes when peace returns.”

  “I can take the port in six months with twenty ships,” said Orleena looking up from the table.

  “Your time in the Chair has made you bold,” said Grand Pa with no mockery in his voice, “but I can not have a ten year old girl at the head a fleet even if she is my granddaughter.”

  “Then give me Da Raloff, she can command the fleet,” said Orleena quickly and firmly, “I will be there just to watch.”

  Grand Pa continued to chew his lip, silently, and looked at his map after a while

  “Enough of the map for tonight,” he said finally and turned away from table.

  Grand Pa went to a lounge that was at the back of room next to a roaring hearth and sat. Orleena followed and sat on one of the two chairs that faced him.

  “Will you sit, Elor?” asked Grand Pa.

  “I will stand,” he replied from the wall.

  Grand Pa shook his head.

  “How is court?” Grand Pa asked to Orleena.

  “It continues as it should, Emperor,” she replied.

  “Are you able to hold it for a two more months?”

  “Where is Uncle?”

  “He has gone north to Ulnsearth,” said Grand Pa, “The High Lord there has called him from Kabrace to speak with him of marriage.”

  A puzzled look crossed Orleena’s face

  “But you are stilled married, Grand Pa?”

  “Your brother’s marriage,” said Grand Pa simply.

  Orleena shook her head, slightly, but stayed silent.

  “Di Aliza should be there by now, I got the message from Kabrace this morning, but it will extend his absence. You will have to sit on the Chair a while longer.”

  “As is my duty,” replied Orleena.

  Uncle had been furious when her father had taken the Clanguard north to Lowlands with Grand Pa’s blessing. Uncle had stormed from the Royal Keep and shut himself in his tower only emerging to hold court each day. Running the city as Chancellor from there with no word to his father or anyone else.

  For over two months Uncle had been absent when he turned up unexpectedly at her gate. Grand Pa had given him the role of envoy to the foreign courts to build the relationships needed for their young empire.

  The thought of displaying his prowess outside the walls of Hallow’s Swamp had made Uncle forget his anger and replace it with his usual calm and cheerful demeanour. Then, a few weeks later he was gone after naming her the next to sit upon the Chair and Orleena was given the Chair for the first time in her own right in the absence of both her father and uncle.

  “You are a remarkable child,” said Grand Pa with a slight distance in his voice.

  He pulled a smoking box from a side table and pulled himself up from lounge. He took the box over to the fire and took out a pipe from within.

  “What troubles are you hearing of in the city?” he asked stuffing the pipe with swamp weed.

  “Thievery, trespassing, illegal services,” said Orleena, “the streets have become thick with people fleeing the war. Most are having their earnings taken from their pockets or are held up in the alleys.”

  Grand Pa found a hot ember in the fire with some metal tongs and lit his pipe.

  “Rats the lot of them,” snapped Grand Pa, “I will give no more guards. I have given enough.”

  “More guards are needed keep the peace,” said Elor from the corner.

  “When I was Low King we didn’t need guards,” scowled Grand Pa, “I would find twenty strong men at a tavern and we would sort out the matters ourselves.”

  “Hallow’s Keep is to much bigger than it once was and those men, today, would likely take you into an alley and relieve you of your privileged purse.”

  “Then these new men of Hallow’s Keep deserve their fate.”

  There was a knock at the door and a page appeared.

  “Emperor Di Soven, a quiet word.”

  Grand Pa crossed the room and the page whispered in his ear.

  “Send her in at once.”

  The page vanished behind the door and Grand Pa moved back to fire puffing on his pipe.

  “We should leave you to your affairs, Grand Pa,” said Orleena, “I am quiet tired from court.”

  “One moment, Orleena,” he replied briskly.

  At the door appeared her Grand Pa’s daughter Iona. A woman of thirty dressed in a simple, green gown with a slight hunch of the shoulders. She looked around the room and saw Orleena sitting at the chair.

  “Excuse me, I did not know you had an audience, another time, father” she turned to leave.

  “Iona,” said Grand Pa, “you may speak.”

  Iona turned back to Grand Pa and shook her head slightly.

  “I have heard disturbing news from the court today,” said Iona quietly, her eyes avoiding Orleena.

  “Why do you bring this to me?”

  “I thought it best resolved within the family.”

  “Orleena?” called Grand Pa.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “What matter does Iona speak of?”

  “I hear many things at court, none are your concern,” replied Orleena her voice hard.

  It was forbidden to speak of the matters of the Chair to the King and she was not going to break that tenant tonight.

  “A murderer was sentenced to death in court today, a ruling we would usually understand,” explained Iona, “but it was a boy, no older then twelve or thirteen, father.”

  “Who were his parents?” asked Grand Pa chewing his lip.

  “He is an Arn boy, fleeing the war, he has no parents in Hallow’s Keep.”

  Grand Pa laughed.

  “What is there to be discussed, then? If the Chair has asked for his life, it is no concern of mine.”

  “Will all the boys of Hallow Keep be subject to this new justice?” snapped Shepherd Elor from the corner.

  “I do not need or want your help, Shepherd,” spat Iona at Elor and turned back to Grand Pa with a softer tone, “it is not Roland’s justice for a boy to be killed by our hands, even Sovin is not so heartless. It is right for a boy to be given another chance as you would expect if it were your son.”

  “You proclaim to know Roland’s justice better than my granddaughter,” yelled Grand Pa, “if you do, then take the Chair from her. See how many clammer to your side to defend some mu
rderous Arn boy.”

  “I do not want it to come to that, father. I wished for it to be settled out of sight of the people. Keep the sentence, but let the boy slip away.”

  “You disgrace yourself, Iona. You come speaking of justice and then in next breath you call to pervert it.”

  “You are the disgrace if you let a boy die by our families hand,” shouted Iona losing her temper.

  “If you are so loose with your justice then maybe you would permit me to take the Chair,” continued Grand Pa matching Iona in volume, “I’ll take ever last Arn, Kaborn, Dun, Sowan man, woman and brat that has come and ruined the city of the Free Man, bind them to to a stake and set them alight. Then I would then take the damn traitors that sympathise with them, the ones who turn on their own family, who spit on our traditions and I would show each them the full extent of Roland’s justice. You don’t know how fortunate you are to have Orleena in that Chair and not me. I would give you and this city the justice sorely needs.”

  “I have nothing but love for my family,” yelled Iona stepping toward her father, “and I will not be called a traitor because I refuse to cower from you or your granddaughter. I do not fear you, father, I fear what you do to our family for it will outlast you and it will have to hold the shame you stain it with.”

  “If this shame is so great then why are you alone, Iona?”

  Iona paused for a moment.

  “Then let it be then. I have done what I could to save us from your granddaughter’s disgrace. Hallow knew of mercy and you have forgotten it.”

  “You are a coward, Iona. If you have seek a fight with my granddaughter you will find her easily, everyday, in the court sitting in clear view of any who would come. You may have forgotten your way there, having spent all your time within these walls, enjoying the comforts I provide.

  “But when you have found your way, be sure to bring all those from my family that will support you in your claim. Please, let me know when, I will happily join the audience to watch as Orleena humiliates you and your false cause.”

  There was a moment.

  “I didn’t think you would listen but I have tried,” said Iona softly.

  “Will you try in court tomorrow?”

  “I will not wound our family’s name more than it already has been,” said Iona and turned to leave.

  “You will go when your King excuses you,” screamed Grand Pa.

  Iona stop and turned back.

  “You dare to speak to the King of the Chair’s business, that is treason and a betrayal of Roland’s justice.”

  “Di Soven,” exclaimed Shepherd Elor.

  “Shepherd Elor, this is not your concern,” said Orleena quickly.

  “Twelves lashes or seven days in dungeons,” said Grand Pa.

  “The punishment for treason in my right hand, father,” said Iona her eyes narrowed her voice taking a hard edge.

  “Very well, tomorrow at midday in garden.”

  Iona nodded.

  “Now, you are excused,” said Grand Pa flatly and Iona left the room.

  Grand Pa turned and walked back to the fire.

  “You do with that Chair as you will, Orleena,” said Grand Pa quietly.

  “I do Roland’s justice,” she replied, “nothing more. I will be going back to my tower, now.”

  Grand Pa nodded and Orleena and Elor were soon back in their carriage moving through the twilight of dusk.

  “I did the right thing, today,” said Orleena staring out the window at the dark city.

  “There is no reason to execute a boy,” said Shepherd Elor quietly.

  “Yes, there is,” she replied simply, “Roland never distinguished one from another. Young from old, man from woman, noble from peasant. In his eyes all we are equal and every man must reap the fields he sows.”

  “That does not mean there can not be mercy for a lost soul,” said Shepherd Elor.

  “Yes, it does,” said Orleena quietly, “you can not understand because you were raised in courts of Thalius and the perfumed men of the Heartland. This is our way, the way of Roland and the Free Men, we have given mercy and we have been scarred because of it. Mercy is a weakness that evil can exploit and it will.”

  The carriage ride continued in silence until Shepherd Elor departed the carriage and said a polite good night to Orleena. This was the last time she saw him alive.

  The next day she learnt Shepherd Elor had used treachery to take the boy from the dungeons and escape into the night. Orleena did as was her duty and placed a bounty on the head of the two fugitives, one a murderer, the other a enemy of the empire.

  A week later the bodies were brought back to the city by the men who had found them on roads heading to Edgelight seeking passage to another land.

  Orleena gave the golden wings to bounty hunters and took the bodies to the swamp just outside of Hallow’s Keep with the help of her guard.

  Orleena wrapped the boy, still beautiful in death, and Shepherd Elor, who she loved as much as a child could love. Then ordered her guard to sink them into the marsh as she watched from dry ground.

  “May the Mother Wolf find you and your charge, Shepherd,” she said quietly to the waters and returned to her tower.