The Arkanist

Chapter Fourteen: The Hall of Lords

I simply nodded. In the deep, echoing quiet of the entrance hall, it was all I could do as he pushed open the doors of my fate.
Night cloaked the Hall of Lords in long, heavy shadows and I drew my own shadow, weak and pale in the silver light. It was bigger than I'd remembered, bigger than it appeared from the outside. A white marble floor ran down the length of the hall, slashed with a rich red carpet through its heart. At the end of the carpet, rose the dais, all of dark stone, and upon the dais, sat the willow-wood throne of Raenish, bent and twisted. Before it, a curved oak table was set, nine men in black cloaks waiting in silence at its face, their own faces cast under hoods of wool.

Lord Riveiar stood as I approached. In the pale red glow of the braziers, he stood tall and gaunt, his face hard as stone and white as milk, long black hair parted, a rich, silver doublet catching the light. "Nice of you to fetch him, bastard," he said first, his voice cold, but strong. He turned to me then with hardened brown eyes. "What has he told you, my wretched brother? I doubt much. For all his studies, he still remains ignorant of even the most trivial matters."

"The boy has come to your trial," said the philos in answer, a distant hatred fuming between them. There was a palpable history there, tense and eager in audience. "He does not wish to hear anything else. And nor do I."

"He will hear what I speak," said Lord Riveiar with spite. "It is beyond the will of Aylar for him to even be on trial, and yet you speak to me as though you were the lord of this city, my father's son."

"I am my father's son, as much as you are," said the philos. "That is not for you to challenge. Begin the boy's trial. That is all that needs be done."

"Very well, bastard," said the lord, and he straightened, and glared down at me. "Kaedn Fallow, son of Ederan Fallow, philos under patronage of the Lord Acaton Riveiar and sinner under the laws of our god Aylar and his Children, you seek to gain atonement for your father's sins. You wish for Aylar and the Court of Raenish to see the folly in his actions and allow you the right to act in the name of your lord once again, as you had."

"This is true," I said, and my voice felt weak in the immensity of the hall. I cleared my throat and spoke louder, stronger. "This is what I seek."
"Speak your testimony, then," said the lord and the Keepers leaned close to listen in judgment.

I swallowed and thought for a moment, thought of my father, and I thought of the human heart.

"You all knew my father, I trust," I said, my voice echoing through the emptiness. "I could say many great things of him, his character, his intelligence, his heart. I could say he never hit me. I could say he never yelled at me. I could say he was a man of his word, true and honest and righteous. But those things do not lift his sin. Nothing will lift his sin. It is final, it has been done, and he is gone because of it. What I ask is humanity; what I ask is morality."

I walked slightly closer to the dais, looking up as I talked, but before I could say anything, one of the Keepers spoke in a heavy voice: "You accept your father's sin? You accept he willingly took his life?"

I nodded. "Yes, with hemlock poison."

"Your father was a philos," said another Keeper through the dark. "Not an alchemist, nor even an apothecary. How did he come by this deadly and rather deleterious herb? Hemlock is a rare and lethal substance...Not found in Raenish."

"I do not know," I said.

"Was your father a religious man?" asked another Keeper. "Did he believe in Aylar?"