David Dalglish - The Prison of Angels

The only thing left to do was sit and wait for the angels’ decision. They were meeting in Avlimar, the many thousands come together from every corner of Mordan to vote on their next course of action. Harruq knew he’d agreed to let it happen, but still, that smug look on Kevin’s face when he’d swung by the throne room to inform him of the meeting’s end had been more than enough to ignite his anger.

Servants came and went, offering him something to eat or drink. Much as he wanted to, he turned it all down. Wine might calm him, but the alcohol might also make it that much harder to control himself should he not like what he was about to hear. Given Qurrah’s rapid departure, he highly doubted the results would be pleasing.

“Milord,” a guard shouted from the far end of the hall. “The angel priest, Azariah.”

The door opened, and Harruq rose from his chair. He was impatient to hear the results, and annoyed at himself for his nervousness. Azariah walked across the carpet, and he dipped his head in respect.

“We have listened to the desires of the people,” he said. “And I have done my best to weigh it against Ashhur’s wisdom. Their pain is great, and their frustrations legitimate given all we have seen of the world since our return.”

“So what is your decision?” Harruq asked. “What’s changing?”

Azariah swallowed, thinning his lips. The act seemed strangely human.

“Those committing lesser crimes will still be judged in the same manner,” he said. “Though men given to repeat offenses will be brought to the castle prison. In solitude, it will be easier to enforce the lessons they must learn.”

Harruq nodded. That was acceptable enough. He could oversee the prisons to ensure their humane treatment, and besides, prior to the angels most of the petty criminals would have been thrown into the cells anyway. At least now the stay would hopefully be far shorter.

“What of the major crimes?” he asked. The look on Azariah’s face only increased his apprehension.

“The greater crimes are what trouble the people. The nature of grace is too heavy for this world, at least in its truest form. The chance for redemption will be offered to offenders as always, but after that, punishment of the physical body will also be given as per the laws of your nation, only with us as the executioners. These sins trouble too many minds, and there are those who feel the physical punishment will serve as a deterrent against those who might seek to abuse Ashhur’s forgiving nature.”

Harruq frowned, trying to work through the consequences of the decision.

“So from now on, you’ll execute them, no matter what they say?” he asked.

“Not just from now on,” Azariah said. “Every man who has ever committed murder under our watch will suffer the same brought down upon him. We know every name, every place. If this world would prefer its justice to ours, then we will give it to them. If we have passed judgment upon a man or woman, it will be made again, with no exceptions.”

Harruq felt dizzy, and he took a faltering step back. Everyone the angels had passed judgment upon?

“When?” he asked.

“Tonight. We’ll announce the decree in each village we land in, just before carrying out the new justice.”

Justice. It would have made Harruq laugh if he were not so sick. He kept repeating it to himself. Everyone the angels had passed judgment upon. Everyone…

“Qurrah,” he said. “Your very first trial was for Qurrah.”

It clearly pained Azariah, but he nodded in agreement.

“It was,” he said softly.

Harruq felt his rage growing, long suppressed, but not now. He couldn’t control it, wouldn’t control it. His hands were on the hilts of his swords, and his mind flashed red with blood.

“You can’t do this,” he said. “He’s not the same man he was.”

“As we have told the people every day for the past five years. They don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t care about the people!” Harruq screamed. “You won’t send your angels after him. You can’t. He’s my brother, damn it! You think I’m any better? I killed children, children no different than my little Aubby. Send for your angels, Azariah. Bring Ahaesarus here himself if you must. Serve my head on a platter, straight from Avlimar to the people, and see how much they love you for it. Or am I just lucky to have gotten my act together before your kind came?”

“It was your answered prayer that brought us,” Azariah said. The angel looked like his patience was starting to wear thin.

“Then be an answer to prayers! Not this. You’re protectors, not executioners. This is what you think will win the people over? Flying through the night, blasting open doors and knocking in walls? Dragging the guilty out into the streets and slitting their throats? Don’t do this. Don’t. Whatever love the people have for you, whatever trust, you end it right here, right now, if you continue with this plan.”

Azariah tried to put his hand on Harruq’s shoulder but he batted it away.

“We voted, every angel given equal voice,” Azariah said. “I’m sorry, but this is the decision we have reached.”

“I act as king,” Harruq said. “What of my voice, or do our choices mean nothing? Are we given no chance to rule ourselves?”

As much as it obviously bothered Azariah, he appeared unwilling to have his mind changed. Harruq almost drew his swords, but it would accomplish nothing. Even if he cut off Azariah’s head the law would be enforced, only with his own life added to the list.

“Qurrah’s returned to Ker,” Harruq said. It was the last card he had left to play. “King Bram won’t hand him over to any angel, especially not for an execution. If you try for him you’ll be starting a war. How many lives wasted then, Azariah? How much blood will be on your conscience before you realize it’s madness?”

“No exceptions,” Azariah said, his soft voice taking on a hard edge. “There can be no exceptions. I’m sorry.”

“We won’t fight for you,” Harruq said as the angel walked for the door. “I’ll tell Bram it was done against my wishes, that you don’t represent Mordan.”

“He will not believe you,” Azariah said. “Nor would it be true. We fulfill the wishes of your people, remember? This was the demand made of us, the one requested above all others. A life for a life, they said. No murderer made free, no matter how regretful the heart. And so they shall have it. They never trusted us, never wanted to accept our ways. This world is not ready for the grace we offer. Kill the killers , the masses scream. Forgiveness is for the soul, but punishment is for the body. You truly think they’ll hate us, Harruq? Come the light of the dawn, let us hear just how many weep for the loss. Despite their penance, their regret, their sincerity, your world will never see them as innocent.”

“None of us are innocent,” said Harruq. “Would you kill us all?”

Azariah’s stare met his own.

“Karak tried,” he said at last. “I pray your brother is wise enough to surrender. I do not seek war, but if we fight, I hope your people are willing to bear the bloody fruits of their mistrust. You begged us to listen to them, did you not? You begged that we open our ears to their cries. And so we did. This blood is on their hands, not ours. We forgave them. It’s this world that wants them condemned anew.”

Harruq drew a sword and slammed it into the stone floor. It flared with magical strength, spreading thin cracks in all directions.

“You’re supposed to be better!” he screamed, feeling so helpless, so lost.

“We’re not,” Azariah called without turning about. “If only the people had believed us when we said it.”