Chapter 198: The Trial

At Samwell's command, the trial began in earnest.

Representing the Father, Gavin started by presenting the details of the case to the gathered crowd, recounting both sides' statements without bias.

Samwell listened quietly, his expression unreadable. However, his gaze flickered momentarily toward Priest Ivan when Gavin recounted how Gonga had run to the sept, seeking forgiveness from the Seven.

Brother Ivan, with his head lowered, seemed lost in thought.

"You each stand by your versions of events," Samwell finally said with a blank expression. "Do either of you have evidence to support your claims?"

"My lord, I swear by the Seven!" Gonga cried out.

"What I want is evidence, not oaths," Samwell responded coldly.

"My lord, I do!" Tima quickly interjected.

"Speak," Samwell prompted.

"I object!" Brother Ivan spoke up at last. "As Tima is representing the Maiden on the jury, she cannot also serve as a witness for the victim."

"Objection overruled," Samwell replied. "Brother Ivan, you are merely an observer here and have no authority to interfere with this trial. I suggest you stay quiet, or I'll have you removed."

He then turned back to Tima. "Miss Tima, in the interest of fairness, I must remind you: as a jury member, you cannot serve as a witness. However, if you have material evidence or other witnesses, it will still be accepted."

Standing in the hall under the watchful eyes of all present, Tima held herself with composure. "I have material evidence, my lord. Gonga claims he accidentally killed my sister while disciplining her. But the truth is, my sister never shirked her duties and was never at fault. If you don't believe me, you can check her work record and ask the other women who worked alongside her in the vineyard."

Samwell turned to Gavin. "Bring out Tiffy's work records."

Gavin promptly retrieved a rolled parchment from his sleeve and handed it over. Samwell quickly realized that Gavin must have already known the true circumstances of the case but had been too intimidated by the Faith's influence to pass judgment.

After a brief review, Samwell saw that Tiffy had consistently earned full work points, even receiving bonus points on multiple occasions—evidence that she had been an exemplary worker.

"Gonga," Samwell said, "you claim you were disciplining Tiffy. What grounds did you have for doing so?"

"I… I…" Gonga stammered, unable to come up with a response, cold sweat breaking out across his brow. He cast a desperate glance at Brother Ivan, but the septon refused to meet his gaze.

This small gesture infuriated Samwell. He stood abruptly and declared, "I find Gonga guilty of murder!"

"Agreed!"

"Agreed!"

"Agreed!"

One by one, the six other jury members voiced their agreement. Tima, barely concealing her elation, even gave a small victorious fist pump.

"Unanimous decision," Samwell pronounced in an icy tone. "Gonga, you are guilty of murder. As lord of Eagle's Nest, I sentence you to death. Execution will be immediate."

"No!" Gonga screamed in despair, "My lord, I was only managing the vineyard on your behalf! I did it for you!"

"You've disgraced my name," Samwell replied icily.

"No, no! She was just a lowly wildling! Why? This isn't fair! I demand trial by combat!"

Samwell's brow arched as he looked at Gonga with a mixture of contempt and amusement. While he had the authority to deny a trial by combat, the request amused him.

"Very well," Samwell said, smiling. "Gonga, you have served Eagle's Nest, so I will grant you one last chance. Will you fight yourself, or appoint a champion?"

Of the four knights on Eagle's Nest—himself, Chiman TigerFang, Lucas Dayne, and Todd Flowers—only two remained on the island, as Chiman was away on an expedition. That left Lucas and Todd, neither of whom responded to Gonga's pleading look.

"It seems you'll have to face this alone." Samwell sneered and motioned to a servant. "Give him a sword."

The squire, Katu, handed his longsword to Gonga, who took it reluctantly, hoping no one would step forward to fight on behalf of a dead wildling woman.

But he had underestimated a knight's sense of justice.

Before Samwell could ask for volunteers, both Lucas Dayne and Todd Flowers stepped forward simultaneously.

"My lord, allow me to champion Lady Tiffy and fight for her justice."

Despair took hold of Gonga's face.

But worse news awaited him—

"No need," Samwell said, shaking his head. "Lady Tiffy already has a champion. Cleopatra."

Both knights paused, perplexed by this unfamiliar name, until they saw the white dragon on Samwell's shoulder take flight.

"Gonga," Samwell said coolly, "your opponent is the dragon. Come now—if you can slay it, I will believe the gods truly favor you."

Gonga's face drained of color as he faced his impossible adversary.

Against Lucas or Todd, he might have had a slim chance of survival. But a dragon…

He watched, terrified, as the white dragon soared above him, a blur of pale scales in the air.

"Let us begin with a prayer," Samwell declared.

Brother Ivan stepped forward, but to his dismay, Samwell turned to the red priestess beside him.

"Lady Melisandre, you've said dragons are made of fire, flesh of the Lord of Light. Lead us in prayer."

"With pleasure!" Melisandre stepped gracefully to the center of the hall, the ruby on her necklace glowing with a blood-red light.

"Lord of Light, watch over us!"

Brother Ivan wanted to intervene but hesitated, finding himself too intimidated by Samwell. He was suddenly filled with dread, realizing that the Faith's influence on Eagle's Nest was now under threat from a powerful rival.

"Lord of Light, shield us!" Melisandre continued.

The crowd began to echo her words:

"Lord of Light, guide us through darkness and ignorance! Shine upon us, great R'hllor! Kindle the sacred flames for us! Show us this man's truth or falsehood! If he is guilty, grant him death! If he is honest, grant him strength! For the night is dark and full of terrors! Bestow your wisdom upon us!"

As the prayer ended, the combat began.

The white dragon swooped down, its sharp claws slashing across Gonga's face, leaving a bloody gash.

Gonga screamed and wildly swung his sword in every direction, hoping to fend off the dragon.

But his efforts were useless. A single sword couldn't protect him.

Within moments, Cleopatra had opened numerous wounds on Gonga's body, his blood pooling on the floor in small streams.

The dragon seemed in no rush to end the fight, toying with its prey as if enjoying the spectacle.

Gonga's screams grew weaker and more desperate. He couldn't keep up with the dragon's speed, slashing madly at thin air.

Then, either through divine intervention or sheer luck, his sword landed a glancing blow on the dragon's scales, sending a spray of sparks.

But the sword failed to pierce the dragon's armor.

The glancing blow, however, infuriated Cleopatra. The dragon hovered in the air, spread its wings, and roared.

Then, with a rush of flames, the dragon unleashed a blast of fire at Gonga's face, melting his eyes as a gelatinous mass slid down his charred cheeks.

The fire ignited his hair and beard, creating a crown of flames twice the size of his head.

The hall filled with the acrid stench of burning flesh, and Gonga's agonized screams drowned out all other sounds.

The searing dragonfire consumed him entirely, reducing him to ash. His flesh and bones vanished, leaving only a pile of pale cinders.

A pungent odor of scorched flesh lingered in the air, a stark reminder to all present.

Only Melisandre looked elated, as if witnessing the power of her god manifested before her.

Seated once more, Samwell declared in a solemn voice, "The gods have rendered their verdict: Gonga is guilty."

"Gonga is guilty," the other six jurors echoed, bringing the case to a close.

Brother Ivan, though he had anticipated this outcome, remained deeply unsettled by the dragon's terrifying power. And this was merely a young dragon—its strength was already beyond any human's ability to contend with.

As it matured, its power would only grow, until one day it would dominate the battlefield like Balerion the Black Dread, who in his prime could swallow a bull whole, cast entire towns into shadow, and incinerate hundreds with a single breath.

Watching the white dragon settle back onto Samwell's shoulder, Brother Ivan realized he would need to reconsider his strategy for spreading the Faith on Eagle's Nest.

(End of Chapter)