Timeless Narratives 4

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Seraphina: You wish to confess your crimes?

Jhon: Yes, my lady. I do, my lady?

Seraphina: (to Elisar) Sky cells. Always break them.

(to Jhon) Speak, little Monster. Meet your gods as an honest man.

Jhon: Where do I begin? My lords and ladies, I am a vile man. I confess it. My crimes and sins are beyond counting. I have lied and cheated, gambled and whored. I'm not particularly good at violence, but I'm good at convincing others to do violence for me. You want specifics? I suppose (addressing Lady Elisar) when I was seven, I saw a servant going bathing in the river. I stole her robe. She was forced to return to the castle naked and in tears. If I close my eyes, I can still see her tits bouncing. When I was 10, I stuffed my uncle's boots with goat shit. When confronted with my crime, I blamed a Squire. Poor boy was flogged. I escaped justice. When I was 12, I milked my eel into a pot of turtle stew. I flogged the one I'd snake. I skinned my sausage. I made the bald man cry into the turtle stew, which I do believe my sister ate. At least, I hope she did. I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel, and...

Seraphina: (interrupting) What do you think you're doing?

Jhon: Confessing my crimes.

Elisar: Lord Jhon, you are accused of hiring a man to slay my stepson Bavdos in his bed and of conspiring to murder my sister's husband, Lord Iceforg, the hand of the king.

Jhon: Oh, I'm very sorry. I don't know anything about all that.

Seraphina: You've had your little joke. I trust you enjoyed it. Maude, take him back to the dungeon this time. Find a smaller cell with a steeper floor.

Jhon: Is this how justice is done in the Iridia? You accuse me of crimes, I deny them. So you throw me into a cell to freeze and starve. Where is the king's justice? I am accused and demand a trial.

Seraphina: If you're tried and found guilty, then by the king's own laws, you will pay with your life.

Jhon: I understand the law.

Seraphina: We have no execution in the Iridia. Life is more elegant here.

Seraphina: You want a trial, Lord John! Very well. My son will listen to what you have to say, and you will hear his judgment. Then you will leave by one door or another.

Jhon: No need to bother Lord Rob. I demand a trial by combat.

Seraphina: You have that right.

The atmosphere grew tense as the request for a trial by combat echoed through the air. Lord John stood resolute, his eyes fixed on Seraphina, while the assembled warriors and guards exchanged intrigued glances. The words hung in the air for a moment before Lady Seraphina responded, her voice laced with a mix of intrigue and curiosity.

"Trial by combat it shall be, Lord John," she declared, her piercing gaze never leaving his face. "But be warned, the outcome of this duel will be the final verdict, and no mercy shall be granted."

A voice comes out from the soldiers who are witnessing this trial.

The guard: My lady, I beg the honor, let me be your champion.

Another soldier: The honor should be mine.

As the soldiers and warriors clamored for the honor of becoming Lady Seraphina's champion, the tension in the chamber escalated. Many voices spoke of honor and duty, each vying for the chance to represent their lady in the upcoming trial by combat.

Among the contenders, Sir Savados remained silent, his thoughts and convictions unwavering. Lady Seraphina noticed his quiet determination and addressed him, inquiring about his intentions.

Seraphina: Sir Savdos, you're quiet. Don't you want to revenge for my husband?

Savados (kneeling): With all my heart, my lady, but this man is too weak and is half of my size. Shameful we slaughter such a man and call it justice.

Jhon: Oh, I agreed.

Seraphina: You demand a trial by combat.

Jhon: Now I demand a champion. I have that right, same as you.

Savados: My lady, I will gladly fight the weak's champion for you.

Jhon: I wouldn't be too glad, Ser.

Jhon (to Seraphina): I named my brother Jaime Vaultwood.

Seraphina: Jaime Vaultwood is a hundred miles from here.

Jhon: Send a raven for him. I'm happy to wait.

John was willing to wait for Jaime, but Seraphina pressed on, determined to expedite the trial. She knew that John was not a formidable opponent in combat, and she wanted to ensure the trial proceeded under the king's justice.

Seraphina: The trial will be today.

John attempted to find a volunteer among the assembled witnesses to fight on his behalf, but his plea was met with laughter, as everyone seemed to know that no one would willingly step forward to champion him.

Jhon: Do I have a volunteer? (the witnessing starts laughing knowing that no one will fight for him) Anyone?

However, just as Seraphina's smile began to fade, a voice cut through the laughter. A Mercenary Swordsman emerged from the crowd, declaring his willingness to stand as John's champion.

"The swordsman: I'll stand for John."

Lady Seraphina's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of concern and determination. As the swordsman stepped forward, Savados prepared himself, donning his armor and readying his weapon for the impending combat. The stage was set for a trial by combat that would determine the fate of Lord John and the pursuit of justice for Lady Seraphina's husband.

In the dimly lit chamber, the stage was set for a battle of contrasting styles and motives. On one side stood Sir Savados, encased in his formidable, gleaming armor, his shield bearing the emblem of Lady Seraphina's family, a symbol of unwavering loyalty. Opposite him, the Mercenary Swordsman, armed with nothing more than a gleaming sword, his attire unassuming and practical, his expression unreadable.

The fight began with a deafening clash as Sir Savados lunged forward, his armored boots resounding on the stone floor. With the weight of his armor, he struck with overwhelming force, aiming to overpower his seemingly unprepared opponent. But the Mercenary Swordsman, displaying an unexpected blend of agility and cunning, proved to be a master of defense.

The swordsman's sword moved with a fluid grace, parrying each of Savados' bone-crushing blows with uncanny precision. He seemed to have an innate sense of when and where the attacks would land, twisting and turning his body with grace that defied the constraints of armor and weaponry.

Savados pressed on, his strikes coming with relentless ferocity. But the swordsman's strategy was apparent; he had no intention of

engaging in an honorable, direct confrontation. Instead, he continued to evade and deflect, capitalizing on the chinks in Savados' relentless assault.

As minutes stretched into what felt like hours, Savados, though still a formidable force, began to show signs of fatigue. His movements grew slower, and his breath labored within his constricting armor. The swordsman, however, remained composed, his expression an enigmatic mask.

Finally, an opportunity presented itself. Savados, momentarily off balance, exposed a sliver of weakness in his defense. In that split second, the swordsman struck with deadly precision, thrusting his sword through a vulnerable gap in the armor.

Savados gasped as the sword pierced his side, a grim realization washing over him. He stumbled back, clutching the wound as his strength waned. The Mercenary Swordsman, showing no mercy, delivered a final, brutal blow that brought Savados to his knees.

The chamber fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the echo of Savados' armor crashing to the ground. The swordsman's unrelenting victory had been achieved through cunning, deception, and a ruthless disregard for honor.

As the dust settled and the chamber remained in a heavy silence, the Mercenary Swordsman withdrew his sword from Sir Savados, who lay defeated on the ground, his once-mighty armor now lifeless and empty. The swordsman's expression was one of subtle regret, shaking his head slightly as he stood over his fallen opponent.

John, who had watched the brutal conclusion of the fight with a smile, acknowledged the swordsman's unorthodox victory with a nod of understanding. It was a recognition that victory, in this case, had come at a price beyond the mere exchange of blows.

Lady Seraphina, with a deep frown etched across her face, approached the victorious swordsman. Her voice was heavy with disappointment as she spoke, "You don't fight with honor."

Beside her, Lady Elisar shared in her disheartenment, and the two women stood united in their belief that justice should be served with integrity and respect for tradition.

The Mercenary Swordsman, unperturbed by the accusations, met Lady Seraphina's gaze with a steady, unapologetic look. "No," he replied evenly, "but he did."

In those simple words, he conveyed a profound truth. The fight had been unorthodox and devoid of honor, but it had exposed the reality that honor wasn't the sole determinant of justice. Sometimes, justice could be achieved through unconventional means, even if it meant sacrificing the principles of honor.

The chamber remained somber, its occupants grappling with the complex emotions stirred by the unanticipated turn of events. The swordsman's victory, achieved through cunning and ruthlessness, had left a lingering sense of unease. In the end, the pursuit of justice had come at a cost, and the lines between right and wrong, honor and ruthlessness, had blurred in the name of Lady Seraphina's quest for retribution.

John: And that's why your mother wants me executed.

John and Lady Elsa sat in a quieter, more intimate corner of the chamber. John had just finished recounting the long and intricate story that had led to the current feud between his family and Lady Seraphina's, leaving Lady Elsa both surprised and intrigued. She admired his honesty and the depth of the history he had shared.

Lady Elsa leaned forward, her eyes curious and inquisitive. "Your story is truly remarkable, John," she began. "But there are some names that I'm not familiar with. Can you tell me more about Bavdos, Rodric Iceforge, Lyanna Cerberus, and Dromo? They seem to play significant roles in this tale."

John nodded, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. "Certainly, Lady Elsa," he said. "Bavdos was a close friend of my father's. He was a wise and just man, known for his diplomacy and ability to resolve conflicts. Unfortunately, he passed away under mysterious circumstances, and his death marked the beginning of the tensions between our families."

He continued, "Rodric Iceforge was the hand of the king before Robin Denisos, and also was your uncle. He was a key figure in the events that unfolded."

"As for Dromo," John said with a sigh, "I don't know much about him, but I've heard that he commands a vast army of warriors."

"Lady Lyanna Cerberus," John continued, "I've only heard that your father, Edwardo, and Michael say that she's a Cerberus, but she's away from our land, and she married a man called Dromo."

Lady Elsa listened attentively, absorbing the details of the story and the significance of these characters. "It's a tale of intricate relationships and betrayals," she remarked. "I can see now why my mother wants you executed. But is there a path to reconciliation, or is this feud destined to continue?"

John's gaze turned thoughtful as he considered Lady Elsa's question. "I share this story," he replied, "because I believe that understanding our history is the first step toward reconciliation. It's my hope that someday, the wounds of the past can be healed, and our families can find a way to coexist in peace once more."

Lady Elsa nodded, her admiration for John's honesty and his vision for a better future evident in her eyes. The chamber had seen its share of conflict, but in this moment, a glimmer of hope for resolution and understanding flickered between them, a testament to the power of storytelling and a shared commitment to change the course of history.