Dragonsbane (Dragonsbane Duology Book I)

Chapter 42: The Trial

Treason was a major charge. It wasn't something Larian could decide then and there. There were enough questions and facets to Petrice Dorrel's situation that it warranted a proper trial. 

Someone of importance, someone with standing, someone who ruled over a hold, they got a say. Not everyone did. The people would decide her fate. Larian could overrule the jury's decision, but that almost never happened. Even someone as brash as Erimon always respected the say of the process in such matters.

The main hall in the castle was overflowing with spectators. They were pressed against each other on both sides of a walkway leading to the throne room and the balcony above the corridor that led to the uncomfortable stone seats. Larian stood on the balcony with Ronson. He wished Amlin was there but she hadn't been seen in days.

Three men and three women made of the jury, standing on the stairs on either side of the balcony. Young and old, tall and short, a true assortment of minds and ideas.

Gab Harnair's Steward, Slean had been arrested and placed immediately in the dungeon upon Ronson's return. When the doors creaked open, he was escorted side by side with Petrice. Slean looked terrified, he shook, and the chains around him rattled, responding to his movements. Petrice was trying out her most convincing look of disinterest.

It didn't take long for the crowd to erupt in a chorus of screams. They threw anything they could get their hands on at the traitors, goblets, candle sticks, anything within reach. Larian held up a hand, wanting things to calm, and after a moment they did, and quiet was restored.

They were brought forward until they faced the King, then pushed to their knees beneath the balcony.

"Slean of Creagach! You are charged with aiding a conspiracy against the crown, failure to report conspiracy, and therefore, accessory to murder!"

There were boos from the crowd until Larian calmed them again.

"Petrice Dorrel of Balirand! You are charged with accessory to murder, attempted murder, and conspiring against the crown! Such treason has only two outcomes. Life in prison, or death."

Most in the crowd seemed to favor the second option.

Slean wanted to speak, but realized he had to bite his tongue for the time being.

Larian motioned to the jury on the stairs. "The men and women you see before you are citizens of the Kingdom. Some are born right here in the capital, some from the other holds. All are loyal to the crown. Is that correct, jurors?"

They all responded with an affirmative, "aye."

The King turned his attention to the crowd. They were all eyeing each other like the two on their knees weren't the only ones with conspiracy on their minds. Some had wild looks in their eyes, like the slightest scent of blood would drive them mad.

"Slean of Creagach. You have the floor first."

Slean cleared his throat and tried to keep his composure through the immense fear tightening his muscles. "I had no idea what, Gab, Theris..." He glanced up at Petrice who did not meet his gaze. She knew what was coming. "And Petrice were planning."

Nobody believed him and many let him know that. One man wanted to throw an apple in his direction but a guard stayed his hand.

Larian waited for him to say more, when he didn't, he shrugged and shook his head with raised eyebrows. "Is that it?"

"I swear to you, Lord!" Slean began to weep, his voice choked. Larian rolled his eyes. "I cleaned Gab's clothes, fed his horse, time spent in his company was little. I certainly wasn't around him enough to overhear a plot to overthrow the King and Queen, let alone assist him with it!"