Raymond E. Feist - The Serpentwar Saga

Roo visibly winced at the phrase. Nicholas sighed. ‘This is very convoluted. Lord James, have you a suggestion?’

James was still leafing through the papers given to him by Lender. ‘Highness, may I suggest you take this case under advisement, and after supper I’ll have the state’s recommendation for you.’

‘Granted,’ said Nicholas. ‘Court is adjourned.’ Guards motioned for the prisoners already in the dock to leave, and Erik and Roo found themselves being marched back to join the others.

Erik looked at Lender. ‘What happened?’ he asked.

Lender didn’t look hopeful. ‘He’ll think about it. You should know after supper.’ Watching the Prince rise from his throne and leave the hall to enter his private chamber, Lender said, ‘It will be decided by morning, either way.’

Guards moved them into line behind Sho Pi, and Roo said, ‘What do you think is going to happen?’

‘If you had not run, and had told this story at once, I think Nicholas would have been inclined to believe you, but you ran, and that counts against you.’ He was silent as the guards chained the prisoners into line, and Lender said, ‘If it goes badly, the gallows. If it goes better, thirty years on the work gang. The best I can imagine is service in the Royal Navy for ten years.’

The guards ordered them to move out, and suddenly Sho Pi looked over his shoulder at Erik. ‘Or something else.’ He smiled enigmatically at the remark. Erik thought his behavior odd for someone facing thirty years of hard labor.

The prisoners marched out of the hall, back to the death cell.

Those who had been condemned to die alternated between numb despair and frantic rage. Slippery Tom was the most antic with fear; he paced the long death cell concocting plan after plan to overpower the guards and escape the palace. He was convinced the Mockers were waiting for any sign of revolt to launch a raid into the palace to set their captured brethren free.

After a hour, Biggo stood up and said, ‘Give it a rest, lad. You’re going to hang.’

Slippery Tom’s eyes widened and with a scream he lunged at his friend, grabbing him around the throat. Biggo gripped hard on Tom’s wrists and forced the hands away from his throat, and as he spread his hands, Tom’s face came close to his own. Suddenly Biggo head-butted Tom, whose eyes rolled up into his head as he lost consciousness.

Biggo deposited the limp form of Slippery Tom in a hay-strewn corner. ‘That should quiet things down for a while,’ he said.

Another man said, ‘Is that what you want? Peace? Well, you’ll have all the peace you’ll ever need come tomorrow morning, Biggo. Maybe Tom’s right and we should die fighting guards.’

Biggo laughed. ‘With what? Wooden bowls?’

‘You anxious to die?’ demanded the man.

Biggo rubbed his chin. ‘Everyone dies, laddie; it’s just a question of when. As soon as you took to the dodgy path you were doomed to the gibbet, like it or not.’ He sighed and looked reflective. ‘Doesn’t seem right to be killing guards for doing their job. We’re going to die anyway, so why spread the misery? Some of them have wives and children.’ He leaned back, resting his elbows on a ledge behind the stone bench he sat upon. ‘Hanging may not be so bad. Either your neck’s cracked’ – he snapped his fingers – ‘and you’re gone, or it chokes you. Choking’s not so bad, I’m thinking. I was choked once in a fight. You get sort of light-headed and everything collapses around your vision, and there’s this bright light … No, me boyo, it’ll be over quickly.’

Another man said, ‘Give it a rest, Biggo. We’re not temple-goers like you.’

‘It was that very choking I spoke of that made me a religious man, Aaron. Why, if Shaky Jake hadn’t busted a chair over Billy the Sly’s head, I’d have died right there. I decided then it was high time I got righteous with the gods, I did. So I went off to Lims-Kragma’s temple and talked to a priest, and gave an offering, and I don’t miss a holy day unless I’m too sick to walk.’ He sat back and crossed his arms. ‘Tomorrow, when I’m in the Death Goddess’s hall, and she says to me, “Biggo, you’re a liar and a thief and a murderer, even if you didn’t mean to be one, but at least you’re a pious bastard,” I’ll smile at her and say, “That’s right. Your Goddessness.” That should count for something.’

Erik found it hard to find anything amusing in his present circumstances, and Roo was close to tears for fear they would be joining those sentenced to die. The only three men not under the death mark were Sho Pi, Erik, and Roo. Sho Pi would be transferred to the work gang after the hanging, which he would watch as a lesson. He seemed unfazed by the prospect of spending the next thirty years hauling rocks out of the royal quarry or dredging out the royal harbor. It was rumored some young men had survived their thirty years, so it was possible he might emerge alive, someday, a broken man in his fifties who might somehow forge a life. For most men it only put off death.

The door at the far end of the cell opened, and Erik jerked around to see who was there, half hoping, half fearing it would be Lender. Instead it was guards with the evening meal. More bread and cheese, but this time the stew had beef in it, and there was a cup of wine for each prisoner.

Erik found himself hungry, despite his worry, but Roo simply ignored the food, curling up and falling into a sleep of emotional exhaustion. Most of the men ate in silence, save the Isalani, who came to sit next to Erik. He said, ‘You think you will go free?’

Erik looked off into space for a minute. ‘No, I think had we stayed and faced down our accusers, maybe. Had they seen the blood flowing from my shoulder from Stefan’s sword, maybe then.

‘As it is now, I think we are probably going either to be hung or to spend out our lives working next to you on the labor gang.’

The Isalani said, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘That woman. I don’t know why, but it was important that she see what we were thinking when we were before the Prince.’

‘If she was reading minds, like you claim, then it was to see if we were telling the truth.’

‘No, something else.’

‘What?’

‘I’m not sure. Maybe what kind of men we are.’

Erik finished his meal, and when Roo offered no protest, he drank his wine as well. The evening stretched on, and the door opened again.

Erik turned and was astonished to see Manfred von Darkmoor enter, flanked by two guards wearing the livery of Darkmoor and two others wearing the Prince’s colors. Manfred motioned with his head to Erik to come to the far end of the cell where they could speak privately.

Erik got up slowly, and the guards stood away as the two half brothers reached the far end of the cell. Erik said nothing, waiting for Manfred to speak.

After looking at Erik a moment, Manfred said, ‘Well, I suspect you wonder why I’m here.’

‘I would think that was obvious,’ said Erik.

‘I’m not entirely sure why I’m here, truth be told. Perhaps it’s because I have lost one brother and am about to lose another, whom I don’t know.’

‘I may not be lost, brother ,’ said Erik dryly. ‘The Prince has taken the evidence under advisement, and I have a very gifted solicitor arguing on my behalf.’

‘So I have heard.’ Manfred looked Erik up and down. ‘You do look a great deal like Father, you know. But I suspect you have your mother’s steel in you.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘You never knew our father; he was a weak man in many ways,’ Manfred said. ‘I loved him, of course, but it was difficult to admire him. He avoided fights, mostly with Mother, and he hated being in the public eye.’ With an ironic smile, he added, ‘I, on the other hand, find that I rather like it.’ Picking an imagined speck from his sleeve, he said, ‘I don’t know if I should hate you for killing Stefan or thank you for making me Baron. But either way. Mother is up talking to the Prince right now, ensuring you go to the gallows.’