Forgotten Embers

Chapter 16: The Hearing

The room was white, and it took some time for her eyes to adjust to the bright lighting. Struggling to regain her sight, Avera would have stopped if it weren't for Blackridge, who didn't seem to be having nearly the same level of difficulty and discomfort she now experienced. He kept her moving forward, his hand placed securely behind her shoulder, guiding her into the center of the room with firm gentleness and quiet urgency.

'Blast it! Why can't my eyes get over this? His have, clearly.'

She blinked, something she had done a great number of times since the moment they had entered the room and its blinding whiteness. They stopped, and she opened her eyes, the room finally coming into view as they adjusted to the light.

She found herself standing in the midst of a vast room with a high ceiling and towering walls. The room was entirely white, having a circular build and domed top.

Avera stood in the center of the room, the curved walls seeming to circle around her. She knew the door was behind her because she had come through it, but it was totally unseen, slipping seamlessly into place against the dull white of the walls.

She glanced around the room, taking it in slowly. There was a set of stairs on either side which wound their way around the perimeter from a balcony on the far side to the center. The rail which lined the staircases crossed the front of the balcony which stretched across the length of the room, covering a third of it in shadows. The balcony was a magnificent design, having ten seats like simple thrones built into its large steplike partitions. There were two sloped rails similar to those which guarded the stairs below, but much shorter in height and length, as were the many small steps up to the great white throne of the King, which sat above all carved into the highest partitions of the balcony. The ten seats, arranged five on each side of the throne, were the seats of the ten sages. Each of the seats of the sages were occupied by men dressed in garb similar to that of Blackridge, all but two, which were empty. A man dressed similarly to Blackridge stood on the floor to her left, not far from the staircase, and Blackridge himself had moved to a similar position to the right of her, likely accounting for the two vacated positions, the seats nearest the right of the King.

"If the court is assembled, you may begin with the proceedings, Lord Blackridge," said the man from the throne, leaning to one side leisurely. His messy dark brown hair, nearly black, fell frayed against his narrow face, a kind contrast to his fair skin. He wore a beard, nearly trimmed around his thin curving lips, strapping the squareness of his chin.

"My Lord the King," said Blackridge, taking a few steps forward, bowing, and motioning towards Avera, "may I present to you Avera Ibori, daughter of Colonel Tyberion Ibori of the valiant men of my Lord the King."

"Avera," said the King, acknowledging her presence. "I understand you took a recent trip outside the city bounds. Is that correct?" His black eyes watched her with passing interest, the darkness of them mitigated only by the violet flecks which lighted within them.

"It is, sir," Avera replied, keeping her courage.

"And where is it you happened to venture?" he asked her.

"A ways out into the forest," she said, avoiding the question.

"And did you happen to venture eastward as you went? Perhaps you made your way through the forest to the place of the ruins?" he suggested.

"I..." she stopped, seized with great and sudden fear, and she hung her head, unable to offer an explanation of her actions. She was well aware that the area was off limits, but she had gone anyway.

"We're not here to punish you," King Zephyr assured her. "I understand you were under a great deal of distress after receiving word of your father's disappearance. Such distress could cause one to do something quite uncanny. No, we're much more interested in what you might have seen, or, perhaps, who you may have met." He spoke smoothly, his words like butter. He was very direct, and she remembered the words which Blackridge had impressed upon her.

'They... are... looking for someone? Benjamin, perhaps... or all of them. But, Lord Blackridge, how does he know?'

"My Lord, being as the introductions are done, I would take my seat," said Blackridge with a short bow.

"Just a minute! My Lord King Zephyr, if I may approach Your Majesty, and if I may speak," entreated the man to the left of her, moving frantically forward, waving his hands.

"Go on, Master Kallida," Zephyr replied, his voice calm and pleasant.

"My Lord, I must request that Master Blackridge remain on the floor, as he, himself, is subject to questioning, and I, as the Master Inquisitor, am both committed and duty bound not only to question him concerning his actions but moreover to hold him accountable for any indiscretions."

"Master Kallida, Master Blackridge is my most trusted advisor and one of my oldest friends. You don't mean to suggest that he is suspected of wrongdoing or crimes against the state?"

"My Lord, I acknowledge Master Blackridge's zeal and diligence in past service to Your Majesty, but we must put this aside for the sake of objectivity. The case at hand is one of great complexity, and some of Master Blackridge's actions are in great need of explanation. I am simply requesting an opportunity to question him with regards to yesterday's events."

"Master Kallida, all of this does not explain your insistent refusal to allow Master Blackridge to take the seat of his authority. Why not hold your peace on this and involve him at a later part of the trial? He can always be recalled."

"No, my Lord. Not unwillingly."

"Excuse me?" the King said, shifting with a stunned curiosity.

"Once a member of the court has appeared and taken their seat of authority, having been on the floor of judgement in the presence of the King as he sits upon his throne of judgement, the witness cannot be recalled unless he should willingly subject himself again to judgement. That is what is written in the book of the Court of Royal Decree. That is the law."

"And you believe that Master Blackridge would not subject himself to questioning of his own volition?" the King asked, his words quick with unbelief.

"I cannot be sure, and given his recent actions, I believe that this is not a risk which we should take."

"Master Blackridge..." Zephyr shot back the beginnings of his defense of the Archmage, his words sharp with annoyance.

"King Zephyr," Blackridge politely interrupted with all humility in subjection to the man who wore the golden crown of the Altruic King, "I withdraw my request. I will remain on the floor for questioning. Let it be no more a burden to Your Majesty."

Zephyr's eyes turned soft as he watched his friend utter those words as he bowed before him. "Very well," he said at last and nodded. "Master Kallida, you may begin. As Master Inquisitor, please state for record the purpose of this hearing. Then proceed."

Kallida seemed to relax, as if he had come into some state of great relief and good unforeseen fortune.

'He knows that King Zephyr would not have granted his request. Had Blackridge not conceded his right, Lord Kallida's continued insistence would have grown tiresome to him. Still, is he right? Lord Blackridge said he is a friend of my father's, but if he knows about Ben and hasn't told them... I can't help but wonder why. There must be a reason... and a reason they're looking for them. But why?'

Kallida was a man of unimpressive physique but great charisma, well able to carry himself in court and hold the attention of his King and colleagues alike. His dark hair was brushed straight back. His face was thin and pointed, his cheeks slightly sunken and his chin well defined. His eyes were dark circles with icy blue rings of color mixed with a sickly pale green, and they now swept the room, calling for the members of the court to offer him their undivided and unquestioning attention.

"My Lords and Rulers of the High Court, this is a preliminary hearing regarding the appearance of pyrite and the reemergence of the Armorials."

A fresh tension fell over the room, the sages clearly uncomfortable with the statement. There was some shifting in the seats and nervous glances from one man to another.

'Goodness... that got quite a reaction. I haven't heard of any of this.'

"At the first," Kallida continued, walking slowly across the floor and moving his hands in wide gestures as he spoke.

'What a showman.'

"The pyrite was seen being worn by a young man who was the target of a stealth mission which reached its objectives yesterday morning shortly before dawn. Soldiers report having seen the man wearing a 'shimmering white tunic and cloak with a glistening gold trim.' The man also reportedly 'was unaffected by arrows which had direct impact against the material.' You can read it all in the official mission report of which I have supplied each of you a copy. This report supplies a detailed account of key events which took place during the encounter with the subject.

"Key events, which include some very strange behavior by Master Blackridge which will be addressed at a later time in more detail. It is for this reason that I have chosen to retain Master Blackridge for questioning.

"Due to the delicate nature of this hearing, admittance has been limited to the witness and the Court, and it is because of this that I have chosen to call Captain Zahaynei to speak on behalf of his men. This will keep our guests to a minimum while maintaining the integrity of the soldiers' testimony.

"Lastly, we have with us Miss Avera Ibori, daughter of High Colonel Tyberion Ibori, fugitive of state."

'Fugitive of state!' Avera's eyes widened in shock and horror as Kallida continued.

"Colonel Ibori had come under suspicion of certain... indiscretions concerning his handling of classified letters and documents in the weeks leading up to his disappearance. Some had thought him a spy for Obed. We now know that he was passing information on to the Armorials, and I believe we can rightly conclude that he was working for Caliphus."

'Caliphus! But...'

"Pardon, Inquisitor," Avera said shyly, "but who are these Armorials you mentioned?"

"The armorials," Kallida explained, his eyes darting back at her with annoyance, "are a radical sect of the Kingsmen devoted to the practice of a strange deistic magic. They are, also, undying advocates of Palmiere Caliphus and his descendants, a line of conniving and murderous kings who have long been dethroned."

Blackridge let out a soft sigh, and Avera heard it. He was standing close by her, only an arm's length to her right, having retreated somewhat following the exchange with Kallida. She looked with curiosity towards him. His dark eyes had turned suddenly pained and soft, a quiet affection mixed with sorrow showing through them, and she wondered why he cared.

"Is something wrong, Master Blackridge?" Kallida sniped, noting Avera's attention shift.

"Not at all, Master Kallida," Blackridge replied with a slight smile, his voice calm and even. "Your description was unprecedented." 

Kallida grunted indignantly. "Yes, well..." he continued, turning again to address the King and his Court. “Miss Ibori spent three days in the ruins and returned wearing pyrite. Doubtless, she too has encountered this young man from the Thistle project and his accomplices. It is my intention during the course of these proceedings that we should use the testimony of these three witnesses to determine the whereabouts of the remaining Armorials and to put an end to those who would devise schemes against the King and his officers," concluded Kallida, seeming extremely satisfied with himself and his performance.

'Pyrite... is that what that was? But again, I have no reference for it.'

Avera felt herself becoming more uneasy with every word Kallida had spoken, and she had a feeling that this wasn't so much a hearing to gather intel as it was a floor show for a manhunt. She turned her eyes again to Blackridge who offered her a small smile, reassuring her of his confidence as he subtly drew her attention to a small vile of dark red liquid which he held tucked away discreetly in his palm.