Haern gestured with his bleeding hand to the city behind them, smirking at its supposed greatness.
“So we let Karak have it then?” he asked. “Without a fight? Surrender control to his priests while we lick our wounds in the shadows and await our doom?”
“Don’t be dense,” Tarlak said. “You say you do this out of pain and love for Delysia. Stop doing everything she would hate. Return to camp and hide there. We need to figure out what nonsense is happening because of Bernard’s failed hanging.”
“As you wish,” Haern said. He meant it to sound more sarcastic but his heart was too weak. “Do I go an Eschaton, or as a prisoner?”
“As a friend,” the mage said. “Always as a friend.”
T arlak joined up with Harruq and Aurelia on the way to the hanging ground. He looked haggard, and his step lacked its normal spring.
“Will they try to hang Bernard again?” Harruq asked once the wizard caught up.
“I’m not sure,” Tarlak said. “But I have an idea. Just go with me, and remember, just tell the truth if anyone asks you anything.”
“Um, all right,” the half-orc said. He shrugged his shoulders as he gave Aurelia a look.
When they arrived, soldiers surrounded the area, weapons drawn. Their movements were jittery, and their eyes nervous. Several carried torches, while others glanced at the last bit of light as if it were a bad omen. When the soldiers saw their approach they ordered them to halt, a couple even raising their weapons as if expecting an attack.
“We are friends of King Antonil,” Tarlak shouted, hoping the king would hear. “And we come to offer counsel.”
One in the front recognized them from earlier and cleared the way. Inside the ring of soldiers they saw Antonil and Lathaar standing before the two giant stones. In between them sat Bernard, waiting for a decision on his fate. Mira sat above them, her feet dangling off the stone as she watched the soldiers.
“Hail and well met,” Tarlak said, grinning at the king. “So what’s transpired after we made our sudden exit?”
Antonil waited until the three were close enough to whisper before answering.
“They’ve sent for the queen,” he said. “Their law isn’t clear about what to do after a failed hanging. Besides that, I’ve cast doubt about his guilt. Deathmask made it pretty clear he was the one behind the attacks.”
“Never said he did them, though,” Tarlak said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Antonil argued. “I can use it. Let me talk to Queen Annabelle.”
Aurelia slipped between them and sat next to Bernard, who had his knees to his chest and his head leaning against the stone, his closed eyes turned to the emerging stars.
“I figure it best if I’m a small part of this,” she said to the others.
“I do not care about politics,” Bernard said to her, opening an eye to look at her and then smiling. “But whatever happens, I am still committed to helping you. Even if I have to jump headfirst off one of these stones.”
“You’re a sweetie,” Aurelia said as he closed his eye. “But let’s try to keep the dying to a minimum, shall we?”
“She’s here,” Antonil said, straightening up. The others stood and tried to look proper, except for Mira, who just crossed her legs and peered curiously at the queen’s arrival. She was flanked by twelve guards, each wielding a shield and spear. The four at the corners carried torches, and it was by their light they saw her highness. She looked tired, and her face appeared to have aged years in just hours. Harruq wondered just old she was. He had originally thought the woman in her fifties, but at the lines that creased her face and the way her hair was pulled back, thin and fading, he wondered just how off he was. She stopped and talked to a guard who had been waiting for her, listening as he explained what had happened during the execution.
“Very well,” the queen said when he had finished. “King Copernus, please, come forward so I may speak with you.”
“I am here,” Antonil said, bowing low. “What do you require of me?”
“Did you have any part in the serious transgression that transpired here?” she asked.
“Your majesty, I was merely an observer. Those that saved Bernard are members of a fallen guild of Veldaren and hold no loyalties to me.”
The queen nodded. They could see her mind racing behind her eyes.
“My guards also tell me,” she said, “that these newcomers claimed the burnings and murders as their own deeds. Do any here dispute this?”
“It certainly casts doubt on Bernard having a hand in any of it,” Tarlak dared say. The queen frowned at him but held her tongue.
“Your majesty!” a voice shouted from behind them. The guards stepped apart as Hayden came hurrying through, clutching his holy symbol that dangled round his neck. He stopped at the queen’s side and bowed. When finished he pointed straight at Tarlak and smiled.
“It is him,” Hayden said. “He harbors the murderer, a member of his Eschaton mercenaries. They came into my beloved home, killed more than twenty of my priests, and escaped with the aid of him and the elf.”
The queen’s face darkened, and it seemed she aged yet another ten years.
“Is this true?” she asked Tarlak. “Is a member of your mercenaries murdering in my city?”
The wizard chuckled a bit, just quiet enough for Harruq to hear.
“No, your majesty,” he said. “No member of my Eschaton has done what you accuse.”
“He lies!” Hayden cried.
“Enough!” the queen shouted. “I want all involved in halting Bernard’s execution arrested. I will speak with them myself. As for you,” she said, bidding Bernard to rise. The priest did as he was told, offering a slight bow with his head.
“Yes, your majesty?” he asked.
“If you are guilty of these crimes, I pardon you of them. If you are innocent of them, then I ask for your understanding and forgiveness. Your priests have little to do with the chaos flooding my city, and I will not shed your blood in a pointless display.”
“I am humbled by your grace,” Bernard said, bowing again, this time much lower. Meanwhile Hayden seemed ready to explode in anger and frustration. He moved to speak but a single glare silenced him. The queen appeared to be in no mood. Without a word, he stormed off. The queen whispered an order to her guard, and as one they returned to the castle. Most of the lingering soldiers joined them, while a few others left for their homes and families. When they were alone, Harruq smacked Tarlak in the shoulder.
“No member, huh?” he asked.
Tarlak laughed. “I told you he wasn’t one any longer. We’ll reinstate him once this has blown over. Told you, I wouldn’t lie.”
“Such deception is close to a lie,” Aurelia said.
“Yeah, well, may Ashhur forgive me,” Tarlak said with a wink. “Now let’s get our friendly priest here back to somewhere warm and safe.”
They returned to their camps, and at their arrival many of the other priests of Ashhur, haggard and exhausted, lit up with new life at sight of their teacher. They cheered and sang songs of joy and triumph. Harruq, however, had little heart for it. He and Aurelia sneaked out from the tents, and with a little magic from Aurelia, passed through the two walls and out to the surrounding fields. With a few blankets for warmth, they huddled together and stared at the stars amid the quiet.
“I was wondering,” Harruq said as she nestled her head against his chest. “What would you have done if they decided to execute you?”
Aurelia shifted a little. “Knocked a few guards around, teleported out of the city, and then waited for you and Tar to find me.”
Harruq chuckled. “Good to know. Of course, I would have gone barging into the prison where you were held, smashed a few skulls, and ended up trapped there while you escaped all easy and magically.”
“And then Tarlak would have saved your butt and together you two would have fled, finding me,” the elf said. “See, the plan still works.”