Deandra shook her head as she parsed that, and said, “You did well to stop him, but you should have told us.”
Drill Fast hung her head and said, “Some say so, but we not know, maybe he do, maybe is talk, so we watch, wait for him to do.”
“Well you did fine, but next time tell us before something happens,” Ynghilda said. She looked to The Prince, who in his turn deferred to Deandra.
“Lady Eastgrove is, I believe, the local Crown Authority, as well as being in charge of these people?”
Deandra shot him a glance, but his face was bland as he waited for her response. She had never thought much of her position as a Lady of the Realm; it meant less to her than it did even to Engvyr. Certainly she did not think of her position as placing her above Ynghilda, but in fact, in the legal sense, it did convey to her one particular, special obligation that Ynghilda did not possess. The right, the duty, of pronouncing High Justice. The power literally of life and death.
The Prince of course could claim that right, but he had abstained from doing so. It dawned on Deandra that he was testing her, and would be judging her performance of her duty. Her sentence would be reviewed by the Crown of course, but she still must act in accordance with her station.
She drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders and addressed the Braell, and for that matter all present.
“Breaks Rock stands accused of attempting the murder of a Prince of the Royal House,” She said, “We have account of his actions from this witness. Is there any among you that can dispute her claim?”
She waited a moment and turned to the Braell and said, “That means, do any of you say Breaks Rock was not trying to kill him?” she said, pointing at the Prince. They all remained silent, and a few of them shook their heads. She turned to Breaks Rock.
“Do you say that you were not trying to kill him?” she asked him, indicating the Prince again. He simply glared at her from his one good eye, so she continued asking, “Do you have anything to say in your own defense?”
Now he spoke.
“You are ugly to God! You will all die in pain, and when the Sleeper awakens he will ridta your souls!”
There was more of the same, but eventually he wound down. Deandra had killed men, Baasgarta anyway, in the heat of combat. This was different, but she understood that it was just as necessary. For the first time she felt the weight of responsibility, the reality of the power granted to her by marrying Engvyr. She consulted Ynghilda briefly, being unsure of the proper phrasing and terms. Then steeling herself, she continued.
“Breaks Rock, by the statements of those present and the witness of my own eyes, I find you guilty of attempted murder and Regicide. By the Power vested in me by His Majesty Dvalin Dvalinson, King of Dvargatil Baeg I must now pass sentence.” She took a deep breath and continued.
“Breaks Rock, you are cast outside the law and sentenced to die. Upon review of your sentence by the Crown Court, you will be taken from this place and before the eyes of His loyal subjects you will hang by the neck until dead. May the Lord and Lady have mercy upon your soul.”
“Ynghilda,” Deandra said as she turned to the older woman, “If you would be so kind as to place the condemned in confinement until such time as the appropriate authorities can review his sentence?”
Ynghilda nodded, then turned to the prince and said, “Unless his Highness cares to exercise his rights in this instance?”
Deandra had no idea what the stead-holder was talking about, but the prince, seeing her confusion and guessing at its source, explained.
“One of my many duties is that I am an honorary High Justice of the royal court, and as such I have the power to review your sentence. Given, however, that I am the intended victim of the crime in question I think that I need to recuse myself. Please place Breaks Rock into confinement for the moment.”
Ynghilda nodded and signaled for the prince's men to follow her and departed. Deandra favored the prince with a considering look.
“So,” she said, “It would seem that our procedures for rehabilitating the Braell aren't the only thing that you were sent here to evaluate.”
The prince shrugged, unabashed.
“Lady Eastgrove,” he said without any hint of apology, “A person of, forgive me, foreign birth has fallen into one of the highest positions in our society. Surely you understand the necessity of gauging the mettle of that person as quickly as was practical?”
Deandra nodded reluctantly, but nonetheless folded her arms and gave him a less-than-sweet look.
He did now have the grace to look a little uncomfortable under her regard. “I must confess, I originally had in mind to simply form an impression of your character, not to put you to such an extreme trial. Which you have passed admirably, I must say. Still, I cannot apologize for my actions, merely express regret at having caused you discomfort.”
So saying the Prince bowed gravely to her.
Deandra shook her head slightly and said, “I suppose that I cannot expect you to apologize for doing your duty, so let me say that were apology needed, forgiveness would have been forthcoming, and let us proceed from there.”
“So then,” he said, gesturing to the chairs by the hearth, “Shall we discuss that other matter that brings me here? The situation in Baasgarta lands will be different, having no place such as this to bring the newly liberated Braell into. What would you advise?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“It's not enough to abstain from volunteering for the hard jobs; you need to abstain from competence, too. Too bad I never managed that trick… it would have saved me a world of trouble.”
The cavalry hit them at mid-morning. The column was moving up the river valley after the Baasgarta forces with the 3rd Rifles at its head in a double-column eight ranks wide. They were moving along the open ground by the river when the goblins charged them from the edge of the forest around three hundred paces away. They came on in a mass, in hot pursuit of a hapless ranger that had been scouting that flank and might have triggered their charge early. Engvyr and Taarven were scouting on the opposite flank.
The ponies that dwarves could ride were no match for the Afmaeltinn horses that they might face in the south, so while they had mounted infantry that would ride into battle they fought dismounted. That didn't mean that they didn't train to deal with cavalry charges. As the Baasgarta poured out of the trees the horns blew the signal to receive cavalry on the right flank.
The column stopped and immediately executed a right-face towards the enemy. The first rank knelt and the second rank aimed over their heads. The trick to breaking a cavalry charge was to hit them as hard as possible as fast as possible so the dwarves fired two ranks at once. The 3rd Rifles was an elite formation and it showed. Though no signal was given, eight-hundred rifles spoke as one in a near-perfect volley. The charge faltered as several hundred of the lead riders went down.
The second rank knelt and while they reloaded, the third and fourth ranks fired over their heads with devastating results. But even so the cavalry closed the distance in seconds. There was no time for a third volley before the goblins were on them.
The volleys broke the shock of the charge but did not stop it. Traveling in hostile country as they were, the dwarves had their bayonets mounted and used them to good effect. The kneeling soldiers stabbed into the charging ulvgaeds. The second rank rose to stab at the riders. Once the goblins were among them they laid about them with their falchions, their carnivorous mounts snapping at the dwarves. The riflemen struck back with bayonets and iron-shod rifle-butts, their heavy quilted coats, breastplates and kettle-helmets standing them in good stead now. The furthest ranks that had not been able to fire in the volleys sought targets of opportunity, firing over the heads of their comrades at the mounted goblins.