Behind Gareth stood dozens of armed soldiers, Kultin’s men, his private fighting force, all with hands on their swords, as if waiting for any calamity that might happen. Brutes, all of them.
The councilmembers stood and turned as the group entered, fear on their faces.
“What is the meaning of this?” Aberthol asked, standing, looking over the faces. “Gwendolyn,” he added, “you of all people know it is against the law to interrupt a Council meeting.”
“Forgive me,” she replied. “But we bring news worthy of interrupting these proceedings. In fact, we bring news that will change the fate of the Ring forever.”
Gwendolyn stared coldly up at her brother, and he looked down at her with a cool hatred. He seemed startled to see her alive; he had probably assumed she would be far from here by now, in the hands of the Nevaruns. Gareth’s face had sunk deep into his cheekbones these last days, and he seemed more insane than ever.
Godfrey stepped forward.
“I have with me here a young boy,” Godfrey called out, “who will stand as witness to my brother Gareth’s treachery. Gareth hired a man to assassinate me-I, a member of the royal family!”
The room broke out into an outraged murmur.
“This boy here was witness. He will proclaim once and for all what Gareth has done, and you, the Council, will have to take lawful action, and depose our King!”
The murmur in the room continued, as numerous councilmen and lords looked at each other. Gareth just continued to stare down coldly at it all, expressionless.
Aberthol turned and looked towards Gareth.
“Are these charges true, my Lord?” he asked slowly.
Gareth smiled down at the room.
“Of course they are not,” he said. “Godfrey is a scheming son who has always wanted his father’s throne. He would make up any charges against me he could to depose me.”
“I do not seek the throne,” Godfrey countered. “I have no wish to rule. Gwendolyn will be the next ruler.”
Gareth snorted down.
“No she will not,” he said “I am ruler. By law. And no words from a boy will change anything.”
“My Lord,” Aberthol interjected, “if this boy is a true witness to an assassination attempt, the law mandates us to hear his testimony and to rule as a Council.”
A thick silence hung in the air, as Gareth scowled back, then finally, shrugged.
“If you want to hear the boy, then hear him,” he said nonchalantly. “Send him forward.”
The boy looked up at Godfrey, and Godfrey nodded back down to him, then gently nudged him. The boy tentatively stepped forward, towards the center of the room, into a shaft of light that shone down from the ceiling. He seemed scared, as he looked up, looking from Aberthol to Gareth.
“Tell us truly boy,” Aberthol said. “What did you witness?”
The boy stood there, hesitating to speak. Then finally, after several long seconds, he called out.
“I saw nothing!”
The room erupted into a shocked gasp.
“What do you mean, boy?” Godfrey yelled down, shocked, outraged. “Tell them what you told me! Tell them what you saw! Do not be afraid. Be honest now!”
The boy looked again at Gareth, who seemed to nod back to him.
“I saw nothing!” the boy yelled out again. “I have nothing to say!”
Godfrey examined the boy with a confused expression, while Gareth smiled, satisfied.
“As you were saying, my beloved brother?” Gareth asked.
Godfrey frowned back at Gareth
“You’ve gotten to the boy somehow!” Godfrey yelled.
Gareth leaned back and laughed.
“You have a useless witness,” Gareth said. “Your pathetic plan to oust me failed. I still sit as true and rightful and lawful King. And there is not a thing you can do about it.”
“Aberthol, you must do something!” Godfrey pleaded. “It is obvious he has gotten to the witness. This boy saw what he saw. My brother tried to kill me!”
Aberthol shook his head sadly.
“I’m afraid that without evidence, the law is the law. Whatever may have happened, Gareth must remain as King without proof to the contrary.”
“You are a liar!” Godfrey screamed out across the hall to Gareth, red-faced, drawing his sword as he bore down on him.
The sound of the sword being drawn echoed throughout the chamber, and as soon as it did, suddenly there came the sound of dozens of swords being drawn, as all of the fierce warriors behind Gareth jumped into action.
The Silver and Legion responded, drawing their swords, too.
There came a tense standoff in the room, rows of soldiers on both sides standing with swords drawn, facing each other. The room was thick with tension.
“The law is on my side,” Gareth said slowly, deliberately. “I can have all of you imprisoned here today, every single one of you.”
“You can only imprison us by the law of King’s Court,” Gwendolyn called out, stepping forward. “But as of today, we are no longer members of King’s Court. None of us. I and this force will leave this place for good. You can sit there and rule unlawfully in our father’s throne, and we will rule in own court, in absentia. And if you try to send men to take me away again, we will consider it an act of war, and I assure you, we will fight back. You have lords loyal to you. We have lords loyal to us, too. As of this day, we no longer serve you. If the Council will not depose you by rightful law, then we shall leave this place and form our own council.”
“You can leave King’s court if you wish,” Gareth said, “but you shall now be known as heretics and traitors. You are breaking the King’s law. If I ever encounter you in the field, I will kill you all. And if you ever come to King’s Court again, you will all be killed.”
Gwendolyn shook her head.
“You are a pathetic human being,” she said. “I curse the day you became my brother. Father looks down at you in disgrace.”
Gareth threw his head back and screamed with laughter.
“Father looks down at no one. He is dead, my dear. Don’t you remember? Someone killed him.”
Gareth screamed and screamed with laughter.
They had all had enough. They turned as one and stormed out the hall, the dozens of them marching away, down the corridor, out of this place. As they prepared to walk out the doors and never see King’s Court again, they were accompanied all the way by the sound of Gareth’s laugher, echoing off the ancient walls.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Erec rode on the forest path, heading north, finally, after all these months, heading back to his home, back to King’s Court, this time, with his new bride-to-be, Alistair. She rode on Warkfin behind him, clutching onto him, as she had been for hours as they entered the thick wood. Erec had not stopped galloping since he’d rescued her from that lord’s castle, wanting to gain as much distance from the place as possible.
Erec recognized this wood: he was now on the outskirts of Savaria, hardly a day’s ride away, and as he rode between the thick trees, he turned and checked back over his shoulder one more time, wanting to make sure they were not being followed. They were not. The horizon sat empty, as it had every time he’d checked that day, and for the first time, as they entered the tree cover, he felt they could relax.
He slowed the horse. Poor Alistair had been gripping his chest for so many hours, he was sure that she could use some rest. And so could he. He was beyond exhausted from the intense battle, and from the non-stop riding. He hadn’t slept in days, and this seemed like a good place to rest.
Erec found a secluded spot, well-sheltered, beside a lake, protected by tall, swaying trees, and he stopped before it and dismounted and held out a hand to help Alistair down. The feel of her hand, of her soft skin, electrified him as he helped her down off the horse; she looked exhausted, but as beautiful and noble as ever. He was thrilled to be by her side after all those days of fighting for her, after all the days of being apart-and after almost losing her. It had been too close of a call. He was ecstatic that he had saved her from an awful fate, and determined that the two of them should never be apart again.