“Guilty.” The Grace’s word reverberated through the Hall.
The Grace of Fom, an angular, thin woman with hair and eyes the color of unpolished iron, waited for the echo of her verdict to die before continuing. “General Albertus Mann, you are condemned to the Pit for public viewing until dead, for sedition, treason, and the murder of Cardinal Prast Vimr. Do you have any words before you are stricken from the Books of Heaven?”
Mann, despite his condemnation, felt unexpected relief. The verdict and sentence were, of course, inevitable. Despite its ultimate success, his expedition to the Black Wall, and the valley hidden within it, had been a disaster from the moment he and his ridiculous army had embarked on the three steamships bound for Valez’Mui.
He looked around the cathedral at the cen
