Mageborn 05 The Final Redemption

  It was good advice. Unprepared, I might have traumatized my daughter by roasting the first living ‘doll’ that surprised me. Definitely not the way to guide her into learning to control her abilities.

  “Is there anything specific I should teach her, or avoid?” I questioned.

  “Not really,” answered Moira. “The Centyr abilities are almost instinctive. She’ll learn to use them without even finding them strange. I’ll be here to help with specific questions.”

  Penny and Rose returned soon after that, holding hands. Their eyes were swollen and puffy, but they both looked as though a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. They had made up at last.

  “Goodness gracious!” I said emphatically. “Did you two get in a brawl with someone? I’d hate to see what they look like!”

  That earned me a scowl and a laugh, each in equal measure.

  Chapter 52

  “What’s this?” I asked Penny, referring to the clothes she had laid out for me.

  “Clothing,” she answered sarcastically. “It’ll make a bad impression if you don’t wear some.”

  I took a deep breath. Everyone in my family had become a comedian, but I knew if I complained, they would just blame me as a bad influence. “You know very well what I mean,” I said.

  The doublet was new, and rather than the usual felt or velvet, it had been made of soft doe-hide. It was done in black with generous amounts of carmine trim. The reds weren’t subtle either; they had been cut with aggressive patterns to edge the garment. The boots and other accessories all matched the theme as well.

  “If they’re going to call you names, we can at least make them work for us,” offered Penny.

  “The ‘Blood Lord’ business?”

  She nodded, “Wait ‘til you see what I’m wearing.”

  “This is a trial, not a costume party,” I complained.

  “I discussed this already with Rose,” said Penny, as if that made it automatically correct.

  On second thought, that’s probably exactly what it meant. “Spell it out for me,” I requested, “I’m a little slow sometimes.”

  “They’re afraid of you, and today we have two purposes. One, we want to help our new Queen by showing that the dreaded ‘Blood Lord’ does still bow to the rule of law. Your reputation has sunk so low that your open support won’t help her, but the other side of the coin, is that they fear you so much it will help if the peers of the realm feel like the Queen is the only thing protecting them from you,” she explained.

  “That I can understand,” I said, before she could get to her second purpose. “But won’t antagonizing them worsen my chances in court?”

  “It may hurt your chances of a dismissal, but it will remind them of your power, lowering your chances of an overly severe penalty,” said Penny. “That was the second purpose, by the way.”

  “Oh.”

  She left after that and finished her own preparations away from my view. I was told not to ‘peek’, so I tried to keep my attention elsewhere.

  When we rejoined an hour later, I was shocked. Tradition and common expectation was that a noblewoman would wear respectable attire when she might be seen by the peerage. In general, that meant a nice dress and the more extravagant the better.

  Instead, my wife wore a matching set of black and red leathers. Her long hair had been styled into two long braids, each with a thick metal cord intertwined, and the ends were capped with silver cylinders. She had dressed herself as a man.

  Not that she looked even remotely masculine. Let us not give false impressions here; rather the close fitting trousers and sleek doublet showcased her feminine attributes in an aggressive and deadly manner that was sure to make almost every nobleman in the courtroom uncomfortable.

  Unlike the currently fashionable dresses there was no décolletage, in fact very little of her skin showed anywhere, aside from her hands and face. It was the shape and close fit alone that would make the outfit a shocker. In fact, on closer inspection I realized that much of the doublet contained square metal inserts. The parts of her not covered by the armored garment were protected by heavy leather.

  Even more surprising, most of her outfit was enchanted. The leather had been laced with runes to keep it flexible, while making it more resistant to cuts and blows, and the metal plates had been made nearly unbreakable. The silver cords running through her hair were also infused with magic, although I couldn’t tell what the purpose of it was. I’d need to remove them and study the rune-work to make sense of it.

  “Is that brigandine?” I said when my voice returned.

  The hell-cat I was married to grinned at me. The overall effect of her clothing was to appear as something like a truly extravagant and overly expensive hunting outfit, but with a much more martial air. In fact though, my wife had arrayed herself for war.

  “If they figure out what that is, it will cause even more trouble,” I declared.

  “There’s no rule against armor,” said Penny stubbornly.

  Weapons weren’t allowed in the Hall of Lords, probably because of a few unfortunate historical incidents. Consequently, armor was never worn either, although that might have been a matter of comfort alone.

  “Some of those old men are going to die of apoplexy when they see you,” I told her.

  That seemed to please her, “The world won’t miss them. Now, let’s fix your beard.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” I protested. Since returning to my proper looks and features, I had forgotten my beard. I had been growing it back over the last two weeks, not as a great wooly abomination, which Gareth preferred, but as a tightly controlled goatee.

  “Nothing,” she said. “The style suits you, but it hasn’t gotten long enough yet. It needs another half inch so you can give it some jaunty points.”

  “Jaunty points,” I snickered. “Are you sure that’s what they’re called?”

  Penny glared at me, “I don’t care what they’re called. Make it a little longer and give me that comb.”

  Unfocusing my eyes for a second, I reimagined myself with a slightly longer beard. I could have done it with normal wizardry, but in this case, using my ability as an archmage was simpler. She proceeded to work on my chin with the comb.

  When she had finished, a quick look in the mirror showed me the face of an arrogant man with a fierce goatee. I had to admit, it suited me. So long as my goal was to frighten children.

  I liked it. While I had had my doubts about our plan, I couldn’t deny that it matched my personality better than trying to pretend humility.

  ***

  It never fails, even in dark times, or perhaps because of them, people love the excitement of seeing blood. Today I would be the main event and they had all gathered to witness the fall of the mighty Lord Cameron.

  The Hall of Lords had an almost festive air about it when we entered. Granted, the harvest celebrations were in the offing, but given the terrible events of late, they weren’t expected to be very good. For myself, I knew why the lords were in such high spirits—they were expecting entertainment.

  I determined not to disappoint them.

  Rose entered ahead of us, resplendent in a flowing white dress. An azure belt with silver trim and buckles complemented a silver and sapphire necklace. The general effect, combined with her elegantly coiffed dark hair, was guaranteed to stun.

  She would have been the star jewel in a crowd that was already brimming with opulence, the center of attention, if it had not been for the two who entered behind her.

  That was us of course.

  While Penny and I were dressed expensively, the main thrust of our attire was not wealth so much as dangerous power. My expression was aloof and disinterested, while Penny’s was challenging. She met every eye directly, with a stare that dared them to speak to her only if they had a death wish.

  “We make quite the villains,” she whispered to me as we took our places.

  I nodded, “I’ve already had some practice at it, but you seem t
o be a natural.”

  “I had to fend off suitors for a year,” she informed me. “I learned quickly.”

  That earned her a smile from me, and as I returned my attention to the crowd, I could see them watching us. I could only imagine the things they must be wondering as they studied our expressions.

  There were a lot of preliminaries to my trial. Each member of the assembly was named, along with a declaration of all those notables who were absent. In particular the Lords of Tremont, Cantley, and Surrey had not yet had replacements selected since they were executed. Stephen Balistair, had replaced his father, Martin, the late Earl of Balistair, and David Airedale had replaced his father, John, as Count Airedale.

  Once they had finished naming and listing, the first order of business was a reading of my charges. Duke Grumley represented an anonymous coalition of lords who wished to press the case against me, so it fell to him to present the list.

  He made it take longer than it should have, but it boiled down to the unlawful murder of Andrew Tremont and his servants in the capital on one hand, and the terrible slaughter of innocent lives at the Tremont estate on the other.

  Ariadne sat in the traditional seat at the back of the room, some distance behind the High-Justicer’s chair. The courts acted on the authority of Her Majesty, and technically, if she wished, she had the power to dismiss them and dispense justice according to her own whims. In practice though, that was very unlikely, since it could potentially precipitate a civil war unless the monarch’s power over the lords themselves was absolute. That was definitely not the case in these times.

  As soon as the charges were finished, the new queen sent a young messenger down to whisper in Earl Winfield’s ear. Listening for a moment he nodded and addressed the assembly, “The Queen wishes to declare her support for Lord Cameron’s actions in the capital. Her Majesty had already determined Duke Tremont’s guilt and stripped him of all rights and privileges; therefore, neither he nor his men enjoyed any protection of law.”

  Treason was a crime that the monarch had always reserved rights over, for immediate prosecution and punishment. That had been Ariadne’s justification when she had Dorian kill the coconspirators Balistair, Cantley, and Surrey. She was extending it now to me, pronouncing me her agent after the fact.

  “Lord Grumley, do you wish to amend your charges in light of this fact?” asked the High-Justicer.

  Grumley was a stout, barrel-chested man with a maroon coat and a lot of grey hair. He swallowed before answering, “Yes, my lord, I would like to withdraw the charge of unlawful murder against Andrew Tremont and his servants in the capital.”

  Well, that was easy enough, I thought.

  “We still wish to press the case that he unlawfully murdered the inhabitants of Tremont Castle and all those within several miles of that estate,” continued Duke Grumley.

  Gerald Winfield, the Duke of Winfield and High-Justicer turned to me then, “Lord Cameron, do you wish to present your own defense, or is there someone to represent you?”

  “Lady Hightower will represent me, Your Lordship,” I replied. Since her father’s passing, Rose was ‘the Hightower’, even though her actual last name was Thornbear now. It was a situation similar to my title of ‘Cameron’ even though my own surname was Illeniel.

  Winfield addressed her directly, “Lady Hightower, are you prepared to present a cogent defense? The laws of Lothion are sometimes complex. It is not a subject to be taken lightly.”

  He was alluding to the fact that, since she was a woman she probably didn’t possess the necessary acumen to handle such a difficult task. That thought made me smile.

  “I feel capable of the task Lord Winfield. I do not feel likely to swoon just yet, but perhaps we should move forward quickly before the strain overwhelms my weak constitution?” she suggested helpfully.

  He stared at her coldly for a moment, but said nothing.

  Taking his silence for acquiescence, she continued, “I would like to move to dismiss the remaining charges against Lord Cameron.”

  That was unexpected. “On what grounds, Lady Hightower?” asked the High-Justicer.

  “At the time the assault on the Castle Tremont occurred, Andrew Tremont was already dead, my lord. Being without a sworn vassal to the crown holding their trust, the people were therefore no longer under the rule of law. Being not under the law, they also no longer enjoyed its protection,” she explained nimbly.

  There were a few gasps in the crowd, and I have to admit it took me a minute to unravel her chain of logic. Her premise essentially meant that since the people of Tremont had lost their lord and had no formal tie to the government of Lothion, they had no longer been protected by it either. This rested largely upon the fact that at the beginning of Lothion’s legal system, all rights and powers were vested in the nobility, granted to them by the king. The people living on their lands had no rights whatsoever originally, except those their respective lord chose to give them. What they did receive was protection from exploitation or harm at the hands of any other lord of the realm.

  Any lawless peasants not sworn to a specific lord were fair game. They could be slain, captured, or robbed at will by any peer of the realm.

  While it sounded barbaric on the face of it, the original intention was to discourage brigands and banditry. Lawful citizens lived in towns and owed allegiance to a local lord, and it was his power that shielded them from any other lordling’s whims or cruelty.

  So, since Tremont was dead for treason, she’s saying that his people were effectively lawless, free for the taking, I noted to myself.

  Ariadne was smiling from her place, and I could sense Penny’s admiration from where she stood next to me.

  Everyone was either happy, or dismayed at the logic of it. Except me, I was upset, but for a different reason.

  It isn’t fair. People should enjoy the protection of the laws of Lothion whether or not their asshole of a lord is dead. My alter-ego had ordered the murder of what happened to be over a thousand people. It hadn’t actually been my decision, nor had it been fully Brexus’ intention, but it should not be swept aside on a technicality that relied upon removing the rights of thousands. It was wrong.

  I leaned close to Rose’s ear, “Withdraw that motion.”

  She glared at me. “No! That’s your best chance…”

  “It isn’t right,” I argued softly. “I don’t want to win by setting a precedent that will endanger future generations.”

  “You’re asking me to abandon your best defense,” she informed me.

  “Just do it,” I ground out.

  The High-Justicer was still digesting Rose’s motion when she raised her hand again.

  He recognized her with a nod. “You have something to add, Lady Hightower?”

  Giving me a disappointed glance, she responded, “Yes, Your Lordship. Against my advice, Lord Cameron wishes to withdraw the request for dismissal.” That garnered a few gasps from those in the room.

  The High-Justicer gave me an odd look and then addressed me directly, “I was considering granting the dismissal, Lord Cameron. Are you certain you wish to withdraw the request?”

  Lifting my chin I answered, “Yes, Your Lordship.” I could feel Penny’s eyes burning into the side of my head. If I survived the trial, I had further consequences awaiting me later. “I would rather face the inquiry than leave the people with no response for the insult done to them.”

  The Earl of Winfield accepted my withdrawal with some softly muttered words. I couldn’t be sure but it sounded as though he had said, ‘Most of them are dead already.’

  Things went steadily downhill from there.

  Lord Grumley questioned me regarding the events and presented the known facts regarding what happened at Castle Tremont. I hadn’t heard the full story, so I listened with interest. The shiggreth had overrun the castle itself, hunting down and killing everyone within. Afterward, they had dispersed through the region and begun hunting villagers and farmers in their homes.
br />   Very little of the population that had once resided in the Duchy of Tremont still survived, and most of those left had deserted the region. The land was abandoned now, and when the shiggreth had died the next day, there had been no one left to dispose of the bodies. The first people to venture there in search of answers had found a cursed place littered with decaying human remains.

  Hearing it all made me sick.

  Penny nudged my elbow. “Stop it. You didn’t do that. You weren’t even there.”

  “Brexus was part of me, I gave birth to him,” I told her quietly. “I was there when he made the decision, and while I tried to stop him, I didn’t try very hard.” Part of me had secretly wanted him to destroy, not just Tremont but everything associated with the man. I had been able to stop Brexus on a few occasions when I had been desperate. All I had done when he ordered the shiggreth to murder Tremont’s people was ‘counsel’ him otherwise.

  I had been a passive accomplice to their deaths.

  “Mort, look at them,” she said, her eyes darting around the room. “That story has set even those who were mildly in favor of you back on their heels. They could very well order you to hang. Is that what you want? What about us?”

  By us, she meant not just her, but our children as well. “Don’t worry. They don’t dare push for execution or the whole thing will fall apart. If they are so foolish, then I’ll have no recourse but to abandon the country. We’ll take the children and run.”

  “And that’s better than letting them dismiss the case?” she said pointedly.

  “It avoids a bad precedent, and it puts the Queen firmly on the side of the people,” I replied. “Besides, I feel sure that Winfield won’t go so far. He’ll impose some harsh penalties, which will go even farther to reinforce the rule of law.”

  The next half hour was spent questioning me regarding my role in what happened. Rose began with the assertion that I wasn’t even in the region where the attacks occurred, and I ruined it by admitting that my alter-ego had given the order.