The Alliance

Chapter 3: The exchange for freedom (i)

“Arden will surely get hanged this time, the King will not spare him!” A royal maiden whispers to another.

“Let us make haste to the courtroom, the King has ordered that by noon, all the people of Eldermere gather together while he passes his judgment to the smuggler—-

The castle court is cold and imposing, its vaulted ceilings soaring above rows of flickering torches. The court is packed with onlookers and noblemen, their hushed whispers blending into a low hum that echoes off the stone walls. At the far end, King Maises sits upon his golden throne, his presence commanding and unyielding. To his far right sits his daughters and the queen, her face a quiet dignity and to his left, the circle of elders, their silvered heads bows in solemn contemplation.

Before them kneeled Arden the smuggler, his hands bound in chains. His tunic torn and stained with dirt, a sharp contrast to the opulence surrounding him. His face, though defiant, carries a shadow of desperation.

“Arden the smuggler “ the King’s voice booms, silencing the murmurs in the hall. “You stand accused not only of stealing the Sapphire Flame but of plundering countless treasures from the sacred vaults of this castle. These are crimes against the crown, the gods and the people of this kingdom. What say you in defense?”

Arden raises his chin, his dark eyes meeting the King’s without flinching. “ Your Majesty, I do not deny my crimes,” he begins, his voice steady. “But I beg for your mercy, I can repay my debts. I—-“

“Repay?” scoffs one of the elders, his thin voice sharp with disdain. “You owe more gold than you could earn in a hundred lifetimes!”

“You cannot even make account for all the wealth you’ve stolen. You claim to be in penury, we checked and confirmed you indeed have nothing to your wretched name. Over the years, we’ve heard of your lavish parties and huge appetite for whores. You’re one cursed man Arden.”

Another elder spits on the stone floor to show his disgust for the fugitive.

A ripple of agreement spread through the court, punctuated by scattered jeers from the crowd. Arden’s jaw tightens. He has anticipated this.

“ I have a daughter,” he says, his voice raising above the crowd’s noise. The court falls silent. “She is young, beautiful and untouched. I offer her to the crown—-“

A collective gasp sweeps through the room. Even the King’s expression falters, his brows knitting together in shock.

“——as a servant,” Arden presses, though his tone betrays the darker implications of the offer. “She could serve the queen, or..” His gaze shifts briefly to the King. “She could ease the burdens of Your Majesty.”

The Queen’s eyes narrows, her lips pressing into a thin line. The elders exchange murmurs, their faces a mix of disgust and contemplation.

“Enough” the king says, his voice colder than steel. He leans forward, his piercing gaze fixated on Arden. “You dare barter your own flesh and blood to save your wretched life?”

“My daughter would live in comfort here,” Arden argues, desperation seeping into his tone. “She would serve the crown faithfully, as I could not. Please, Your Majesty. Show mercy.”

King Maises stands to his feet, silencing the hall with the weight of his presence. “Mercy?” he repeats, his voice ringing with authority. “You speak of mercy, yet you have shown none to the kingdom. You have stolen not just gold and jewels but trust—-the trust of your king and your people.”

One of the elders steps forward, a gnarled staff in hand. “By the laws of this land, treason and sacrilege carry but one sentence: death.”

The crowd erupts into cheers and shouts, their anger a tempest that fills the hall. Arden’s face blanches, but he forces himself to remain upright.

The king raises his hand, and silence falls once more. He looks down at Arden, his expression resolute. “Your crimes cannot be undone, and your offer only deepens your shame. For the theft of the Sapphire Flame and the desecration of the royal vaults, you are hereby sentenced to death by hanging at dawn.”

“No!” Arden shouts, his voice breaking as the guards seizes his arms. “Please, Your Majesty, I beg you! For my daughter’s sake—”

“Take him away,” the king commands, his tone final.

As Arden was dragged from the hall, the masses erupted in a mix of approval and indignation. Some saw justice served; others, the desperation of a man crushed by his own folly. But above all, the king’s decree stood unchallenged, his authority as unyielding as the walls of the castle itself.