The Obsidian Pillar

Chapter Thirty-four

The next morning, Sebastien retrieved the horses from the stable whilst I made my way slowly down the stairs, my limbs aching from the struggle at the harbour. I was foggy with tiredness and I tried desperately to push the memory of Brindt's death away from my mind.

Although it was early, the market place was already crawling with tourists and merchants haggling over their breakfast in the morning light. We led the horses through the streets, eyeing the white assassins that leaped from rooftop to rooftop as we walked, following us like birds of prey.

The domineering courthouse was situated in an open square in the centre of Tavarus. Its brickwork had been painted stark white and its canopy was raised by several marble pillars that reflected the sun's bright gaze. Everything about it was pure and virtuous. But the people scurried past, wary of its presence, and as we tethered our horses I noticed at least thirty of the untainted assassins surrounding us from rooftops, alleys and doorways all around.

'I'm eager to be rid of our new friends,' Sebastien uttered as he gently placed a hand on my back to guide me into the courthouse. To anyone else we seemed like a newly wedded couple visiting many of the famed sites this part of the world had to offer.

Unlike the busy streets of the markets, the courtroom was empty and ominously quiet. Several sconces were lit in their brackets around the walls. Only the thin gaps in the stone architecture allowed very little light in.

We wandered between the pews, never more than a few steps away from each other. I couldn't take my eyes from the blank walls around us. As bare as they were I could sense the courthouse's connection to the church in Willowheathe. I saw the blood, the flames of the pyre, and the screaming witches torn from their families.

'Welcome, Prince Sebastien.' The deep voice echoed through the room. It called out to us from where a grand chair stood like a throne at the far wall on a dais. Sebastien put out a hand to keep me behind him. His jaw tensed in annoyance.

The man was so small that his feet did not reach the floor from where he sat upon his throne. I squinted in the dim light to see the squat, rotund man of about fifty years looking down his thin, aquiline nose at us. What little hair he had splattered on the top of his head was like dark, downy fluff. His white robes, similar to those of the assassins, were wrapped around his fat torso and draped from his small arms so that he resembled a child in his father's clothes.

'You have me at a loss. I have no idea who you are, sir,' Sebastien countered as we slowly approached the dais.

The small man's eyes were narrow slits that blazed down with burning suspicion. He rather resembled a reptile, perhaps a toad, by the way in which his large chin bulged onto his chest as he looked down at Sebastien.

'I am Chancellor Meurtak of Tavarus, my liege.' He smiled waspishly before clasping his tiny hands over his stomach. He turned his head to me, the smile fading as quickly as it had appeared. 'You have both been causing quite the disturbance in my town. The commotion at the harbour did not go unnoticed.'

I froze but knew better than to interrupt diplomatic discussions. Now was not the time to rebel. Sebastien was risking his freedom by being here.