Chapter Twenty-Nine - The Lion’s Mouth #2
Dorian stood silent, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed, as the insults were hurled at him.
He wore the same clothes he had worn to Tidehall; the dark crimson of his coat blackened with the soot and dirt of the Iron Keep.
His dark hair, unruly at the best times, hung limp, sodden with sweat and grease.
His face bore bruises, one clear purple mark where he had been struck across the face.
There were other marks across the small amount of pale skin on show, revealing the harm they had been inflicting on him.
He wore no gloves; the chains infused with Rubies of Ashkar chaffing his pale skin and causing red welts on his wrists.
He looked exhausted. The inflamed rubies sapping his energy from him.
A constant strain on his power that meant he would not have slept.
Insult after insult was hurled at the Prince of Death as he stood hunched over in the middle of the room.
Rosamund gripped the side of the stone box, her nails digging into the rock as she forced herself not to shout them down.
She had wanted to launch herself from the box and heal those wounds.
To take his face in her hands and clear the bruise away, to pour her life into this broken man in front of her.
She begged him to look up, to see her. She was here. She would not leave him.
I’m here. Look up. I won’t leave you.
His dead eyed gaze remained fixed on the mosaic in front of him.
The clerk of the court banged his silver staff against the hard white floor, the sound echoing around the room and plunging it into silence.
“Dorian of House Mordane has been charged with treason and heresy,” said the clerk in a booming voice that echoed around the chamber, “your highness, how do you plead?”
Dorian did not respond.
Corvin rose from his bench and cleared his throat, but before he could respond Bastian rose from his throne, “it would appear that our father, his majesty, is unable to attend today. As such, I shall take his place to pass sentence.”
Gawain’s frown deepened and he looked to his silver haired brother beside him. Luceran only regarded his younger brother with an amused and thoughtful expression.
“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself Bastian,” said Aurelian, leaning forward in his chair, “generally there is a trial before sentencing.”
“Yes, but I expect it shan’t take long. The evidence is overwhelming I am afraid,” said Bastian with mock sympathy as he looked at Dorian.
Dorian did not look at him. Did not look at any of them.
“Has there been any word from his majesty on who he invests his authority in?” asked Gawain, turning to Osric who shrank in his chair shaking his head.
“Then we should postpone until we have confirmation,” said Luceran with a sigh, already rising to his feet.
Dread coursed through Rosamund. A postponement would be disastrous.
They needed this trial to happen now. She could not bear to see him returned to the Iron Keep.
Who would he be if they kept him there any longer?
Not only that, but what of their other plans?
If the trial did not happen, what then? Though if Bastian pressed his point, if any of his brothers supported him, then that would be even worse.
There would be no trial, only the passing of the sentence.
She rose to her feet, still unsure what she could do, when the doors opened again.
“Forgive our lateness.”
Queen Lyonesse swept into the room, her ladies following in her wake as the Templars closed the door behind her.
All the Prince’s bowed to her as she approached, even Dorian who until then had barely moved.
Only Bastian did not bow. He stared down at her with suspicion from the King’s seat.
The Queen stood in front of him with a serene look upon her face and waved for him to move. His eyes flashed with rage.
“You are in front of our chair Prince Bastian. Move,” said Queen Lyonesse, “before I have one of the Templars move you.”
“This, is my father’s chair,” hissed Bastian, “and as I am still invested with his authority, it is my right to preside over this trial in his absence.”
“We think not,” said the Queen with a bored sigh as one of her ladies stepped forward and handed a scroll to Prince Gawain.
The armoured prince read from it before passing it to Luceran, “His Majesty King Ovidian invests his authority in his most wise and fair wife, Queen Lyonesse for the purposes of this trial against his son.”
Relief washed over Rosamund. She had listened. The Queen had listened to her. They would still need to prove Dorian’s innocence, but she would ensure a fair trial, something Bastian would never have allowed.
We have a chance.
Bastian stormed down the steps and towards his own seat, his fists clenched at his sides.
Queen Lyonesse took her place and the clerk indicated for all to be seated.
As Rosamund sat down the Queen caught her eye.
How the Queen had managed it she did not know, but Rosamund was aware that she owed the woman a great debt.
She would owe many debts if they were successful today.
The court began to settle once more. With the Queen seated, a clerk rushed forward to hand her a scroll, “a list of the charges your majesty, withholding materials from the realm, heresy-”
The Queen barely glanced at them before she ripped them in half, tossing them to either side of her, “there is but one charge here today that we will hear. Treason.”
The Crown’s clerk rose but Bastian was already out of his seat, “your majesty I implore you to consider the full extent of this wretches crimes. It is true that treason may be amongst the worse, but to ignore the others, the heresies that have been committed by a Prince of the realm would be unwise.”
“Do you doubt your father’s faith in us?” asked the Queen calmly, “do you doubt the wisdom he sees in us?”
Everything about the look that Bastian gave her told Rosamund that he did, but through gritted teeth he replied, “no, your majesty.”
“Then resume your seat Prince Bastian. For the charge of treason there can be no other sentence than death. So as not to waste this courts time that is the charge we will hear, and we will hear all relevant evidence associated with this.”
Though the old Seneschal was often difficult to read she could see the relief in Corvin’s expression. She had foolishly hoped that the Queen might have thrown out all the charges, but even in her heart she had known that would not be possible.
“Now, we suggest you stop wasting our time with interruptions and present your case,” said Queen Lyonesse, her dark eyes never leaving Bastian.
Dorian stood lifelessly in the centre of it all. The back and forth between the Queen and his brother had not touched him. It was as if all fight had left him; it made her heart ache and her blood boil.
Don’t give up. I’m here. Trust me.
Bastian snapped his finger and the Crown Clerk stepped forward to present the case against Dorian.
It was worse than any of them could have anticipated.