Trial

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Belgarast's cane tapped as he walked down the keep's silent and empty halls in which shone late afternoon sun from the narrow stone windows to his left. House Guards had come to escort him to the keep's main hall; they flanked him.

He wore simple linens; that which he usually slept in as it was still somewhat a hassle to change his clothes. Leather knee-high boots covered his right calf and his left prosthetic. He insisted on knee-high boots. He didn't like his wooden leg.

Though it was a genius invention, worked at for a month by the Foimerile man named Hoolsh, Belgarast was still self-conscious of it. A spring was added to its ankle along with a sturdy iron hinge to best simulate walking, and after awhile his gait should have been indistinguishable from another man's. Under his clothes were thick, sturdy leather straps around his left shoulder, waist and thigh to keep it in place.

Belgarast had yet to be used to it.

He looked out the arrow slits in the wall, and saw how clouded the sky was around the exposed sun, and how chilled the air had become. Fall was in full swing.

A complete six months had passed since he awoke. By Varkil; it felt as though years clawed by as he laid in bed. The emotion from his face had long since gone.

They passed through a series of passages and stairways until they made it to the double doors of the main hall.

The House Guards pushed them open and the sight of a court room met Belgarast's eyes; suddenly he was reminded that the last time he was here was when he sat to eat for dinner on that fateful day. Now he entered to determine his future.

The main hall was a large, almost square but still rectangular room and it was filled with people; the majority sitting on benches with a lane down the center which led into an open space for the accused to stand. Before the accused sitting at the table set on the stone stage was the Baron, his Baroness, the Steward and the seat usually taken by Charlotte, his only surviving child, was instead taken up by the Bishop Goerlsted.

Why was he here? This was a matter of the nobility; not of the church. Immediately something was not right here. Bishops see over court rulings of faith, not of oaths.

Belgarast was urged into the windowless room by his escort. Wooden banisters and support columns held up the ceiling and multiple oil lanterns to illuminate the room. Along the walls were arras, banners, ornate candle-sticks, and a series of House Guards standing at attention. The dining tables which usually were here must have been lugged to another storeroom.

He stopped where the accused was to stand; on a raised wooden platform before his Baron. His escort backed away, but still stood a few paces to either side and behind him. Belgarast just realized how silent the room was.

Baron Soreb wore fine clothes; a bear-hide cape hitched to his shoulders with fine golden clasps over top of a regal tunic. A gem-inlaid brass circlet topped his near balding brow. His face connoted his lack of enthusiasm with these proceedings. He motioned the steward to begin.

The thin and tall man with long black hair and trimmed mustache arose and walked in front of the Baron's table and down the small stone steps to the floor. He spoke; "the trial of Sir Belgarast Pyrellion shall commence. The accused stands before us, and the accuser sits here. As according to the Divine Doctrines, the accuser shall begin the court proceedings."

Baron Soreb arose and leaned over his table; "Belgarast, you stand accused of breaking your oath of fealty to me by refusing the summons of the keep's brass in a time of crisis and sowing chaos in a delicate situation. How do you plead?"

Belgarast looked at him dead in the eyes and made no move to open his mouth. The Baron remembered; embarrassed he said "two taps of the cane for guilty, one tap for not guilty."

Tap. Tap.

Belgarast had thought of this day for the six months he sat in bed. Immediately the crowd of house servants and knights began murmuring in surprise.

Baron Soreb was taken aback. Blinking a few times he asked "so you admit your disloyalty? One tap for yes, two for no."

Tap. Tap.

Again the crowd murmured and Baron Soreb called for silence. He spoke; "so you admit you broke your oath to me, however you maintain your loyalty?"

Tap.

Soreb sat back in his chair, frustrated and confused. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Belgarast, this is no practice in idiocy; you have just presented an oxymoron! A loyal servant who freely breaks the oath of the one he serves; what complete lunacy! Do you see?"

Tap.

"So you are aware of your delusions?"

Tap. Tap.

Soreb let out a deep sigh. He knew they would be here a long time. He hoped to get this over with in a matter of minutes but it seems this upstart had wanted to play his games.

Unaware of how to proceed, he motioned to the steward to commence the next phase; treating Belgarast's remarks as a stance for 'not guilty'.

The shocked steward cleared his throat. "The accused will now make their complete testimony."

All eyes turned to the mute Belgarast. He fished from his pocket a rolled up parchment and he looked to the crowd behind him for Frederick. His friend arose from the first row of benches and approached the accused's platform.

"What is the meaning of this?" Soreb demanded angrily. By Varkil, he was done with this proceeding.

"Lord Baron, Sir Belgarast has prepared his testimony in writ, as he..." Frederick paused. It was always so difficult to say. "as he cannot speak, your lordship, so we have agreed for me to read it out before the court."

The steward's gaze turned to Soreb, and the Baron looked toward the Bishop.

Goerlsted hadn't said a word yet, and instead leaned into his hand; intently staring and analyzing the situation. In flame's name, what was he thinking of this?

Soreb nodded his approval.

The steward said "you may proceed."

Frederick bowed his gratitude towards the Baron for his leeway, and unrolled the parchment, reading aloud; "Lord Baron, through the lips of my friend Frederick I speak my testimony. Yes; I went against my oath to you and to House Ganador. However, I maintain my loyalty."

Belgarast stood there maintaining eye contact with the Baron. No emotion turned his face; his glare was of stone.

Frederick went on; "I state that my interests were indeed only for that of Lady Charlotte Ganador's safety. I saw the time to act and that is when I first saw the beast holding Charlotte over its shoulder; dashing across the street mere steps from me. I judged the time it took to muster the knights, organize a defense and a rescue party, would be too long. I maintain that my actions were of unswerving loyalty to Lady Charlotte Ganador, for when I in my wounded state happened across the Altar Room of the beast, my lady Charlotte was being prepared for a horrid ritual as its sacrifice. Judging by the time it took from when I first made my escape with her, to the vague time I remember hearing your rally-cry, her soul would already have been condemned if I had not stepped from the bounds of my oath. I maintain that despite my injuries suffered earlier in the night, which I divulged months ago to a Churchile Investigator, I continued on for the sake of Lady Charlotte Ganador.' And that, my Lord is where this text ends."

Soreb leaned back in his chair. "And, as accuser I must now ask why? Why go to all of this trouble for my daughter? It sounds by your own written words that you were not thinking of your loyalty to me, but only towards my daughter. Why?

Belgarast fished from his pocket another parchment and Frederick took it and began reading; "I did this for at the time I had deep affections for Charlotte."

Frederick trailed off in surprise as the Baron arose from his chair; a look of shock and anger on his face. The courtroom remained completely silent; wide eyed looks dashed between Soreb and Belgarast.

Before Frederick had time to continue, Soreb began shouting "ah! I see! I see your games here Belgarast! You hoped to sweep my daughter off her feet! A daring rescue of selfless sacrifice! And thus ruining the marriage of her and Prince Willum; oh, the romance!... Damn your godforsaken romance!" he slammed the table with a balled, white-knuckled fist. "Our lands are already seeing the fruit of our marriage into the Royal Family, you cur! You cite loyalty, but you would attempt to rob us of our prosperity to fulfill your disgusting desires? What say you?"

Belgarast had not moved, but motioned for Frederick to continue. The courtroom was silent; Goerlsted had not moved his gaze from the accused and the Baroness awkwardly locked her gaze down to the floor but kept her head up.

Frederick nervously continued reading aloud; "I must admit of course I do not know what these feelings were, but I do not feel them anymore. To be honest I find it hard to feel much these days. However that is beside the point. Yes, my motivations were that of my affections for Charlotte, though I maintain my loyalty to House Ganador as my interests were of her safety, and my actions did save Lady Charlotte Ganador's life, ensuring her marriage to Prince Willum Cindiel and the union of the Royal Family to the Ganador Family." Frederick rolled the parchment back up. Still, Belgarast made no moves and maintained his eye contact with Baron Soreb.

Soreb sneered at the accused; the flames of anger dying down. "So you are citing your actions, which broke your oath, prove your loyalty and that your motivations and interests for my daughter prove the same? A loyal knight would know his place, follow oath, and listen to his Lord Baron and that would be motivation enough. Your reasons to break your oath were your own perverted affections for my daughter? This doesn't sound like the reasoning of a knight loyal to his Lord but a knight loyal to himself and his desires; one who would freely act in opposition to his oath."

Belgarast produced his last parchment and handed it to Frederick. He read "My loyalty was to Lady Charlotte Ganador and no one else. I wanted to ensure her safety, resulting in the cementing of the bloodline of my Lord Baron. My loyalty to her, by proxy, should be interpreted as loyalty to your family. It is my belief that my shunning of the oath I swore on your sword to save Charlotte proves that I am more of a free thinker than others, in that I saw the folly of protocol in that instance. You said it yourself that my valor was appreciated when you first saw me after the fact, and it is my understanding that if I had not acted she would be dead." Frederick rolled up the parchment.

Baron Soreb thought for a moment. He looked at Goerlsted, who still just sat there. He had to tread carefully.

"So," he began, "we have peered into your heart on that day. You broke your oath due to your own affections for my daughter, and you believe that this proves your loyalty to me? You never mentioned me or proving your loyalty to me in your motivations; you cited only your loyalty to my daughter however you ask me to stretch your motivations and interests to also include myself. However, I must come to the conclusion that your actions directly regarding your oath are what we must base the verdict on; intentions, motivations, outcomes direct or indirect aside." He looked out to his court. Among the low born were confused looks; often scowls. They didn't understand the import of chivalry. However, the front rows of benches occupied by his hand-picked knights and high born nobility all nodded in agreement among themselves.

Most importantly, with Goerlsted's nod, he had all the approval he needed.

Soreb stood tall, and addressed his court; "I ask you those of high blood, what is your judgment in the matter of Belgarast's blatant disregard for his oath? Aye for guilty?"

Belgarast turned and saw the front rows of the highborn who would decide his fate. They were all senior knights, their spouses and debtors to Soreb.

He never stood a chance here.

Every single one of them, including the Baroness and the Bishop arose and called out "Aye!"

Frederick was the only one who didn't speak. He waited for Soreb to ask for the 'nays'.

Soreb began again, "due to the overwhelming amount of ayes, I declare the ayes have it!"

Belgarast's head hung low with Frederick's. His trial was over.

His sentencing would begin.