Chapter 172 - Tribunal (Patreon)

It was amazing how quickly things moved when a person as powerful as Countess Daston took charge. Dark came early in the winter, but it was only a few hours since Hump and the others had concluded their experiment. General Bennet may have been grappling for authority in Sheercliff, he may have even won at times, but this was her city and the respect even rivals like the Ferrands had for her was obvious. When she called a meeting, people flocked to obey. This time, however, they did not meet in the House of Stone.

Countess Daston hosted the event on her estate, though she hadn’t made an appearance yet. It was held in the room just off the entry hall, where Hump had seen her and the other faction leaders when he’d first brought the black stone here. He was now part of that company, and proud of it. He even had a seat at the table.

It was a lavish meeting room, with painted portraits on the wall, scenes of battle, and ornaments from far off places. The fire roared in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth. Above it was the stuffed head of a frost hydra. Marcela had explained it was slain by her great-grandfather in the Fallen Lands.

A long wooden table stretched the entire chamber with enough seats for at least fifty people. The crowd shuffled in, the murmur of discussion growing louder as the occupants grew in number. They almost seemed excited to Hump, as if they thrived in this atmosphere of political rivalries and betrayal. It disgusted him to see them smiling and laughing when the situation was so dire. It reminded him of his place. If the city fell, it wouldn’t be these people that suffered. They would have their escapes, their private forces, the equipment and skill necessary to escape. The refugees and the people of the Lower City—they would die by the thousands.

Hump looked over the crowd of plump, sweaty lords and make-up plastered women, and reminded himself that while he may sit here, they were not his peers. He was here for a purpose.

As instructed, General Bennet brought Vivienne with him. She looked good. Excellent even. Hump could hardly tell she was a prisoner. She had her own clothes and jewellery and had no visible restraints. Her wand was missing though, and the two guards on either side of her truly broke the charade. Both Chosen, and if Hump’s instincts were right, they were powerful ones at that. The general was taking no risks.

Vivienne looked surprised when she saw them at the table, but it quickly turned into a smile. Hump smiled back, nodding hello. He had to give her credit; she didn’t even appear tired. She conducted herself with grace and eloquence, not showing the slightest bit of discomfort despite the situation. Not giving her captures the satisfaction.

And it was working. Abraxus turned red faced when he saw her upon arrival. The first thing he did was storm up to General Bennet’s side and speak into his ear, no doubt complaining that Vivienne was out of her cell, or angry that the tribunal was even being considered.

Arsehole, Hump thought.

Behind the man, Eliana gave a wave before taking a seat beside Vivienne and speaking quietly to each other. The two guards remained behind them.

“She looks like she’s well,” Bud whispered to Dylan.

“I’m going to go speak with her.” Dylan rose from his chair.

Hump took his wrist, holding him back. Now wasn’t the time for them to stir up any problems. “Don’t. Let’s avoid causing any disruptions. Countess Daston must have a plan if she’s called for Vivi’s tribunal. We’ve done what we can, now it’s in her hands.”

Dylan shook him off harshly and took a seat, practically fuming. “Fine.” He stared over at Vivienne, who smiled back at him reassuringly. After a few seconds, Dylan said, “Sorry.”

“No need to even mention it,” Hump said. “Things will work out. Just have some patience.

Dylan let out a sigh and seemed to relax a little as he leaned back into his seat.

Most of the seats were filled up by the time Countess Daston joined them in the room. Marcela arrived with her, and Hump was surprised when she took a seat beside him.

There were many familiar faces in the room now. Hump was pleased to see Sir Isaac, and slightly less pleased to see Randall in attendance alongside his father. His Shield Maiden, Madeleine sat nearby, though this time she was with her own family rather than as a member of Randall’s party. Emilia’s brother, Edmund, sat toward the back, having greeted them briefly upon entrance. Other than General Bennet, most prominent of all was Sir Roderick, who, along with a number of other Chosen and clergy of the Pantheon, had the seats closest to Countess Daston at the head of the table. Many of the silver rankers were there too, including Helen Astida from Fishers Lake, and Sir Ricard, who had a seat on Countess Daston’s right side. It was a room of intensely powerful people, and Hump couldn’t help but feel nervous sitting so far up the table, only ten seats down from the countess.

“My lords and ladies, thank you for finding the time to attend on such short notice.” Countess Daston stood behind her seat at the head of the table, hands clasped before her. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I requested so many of you present for Wizard Vivienne’s tribunal, but I believe you will find it worth your while.”

“What is this, Justine?” General Bennet asked, a strained smile on his face. “I must admit, I was surprised when I received your letter. I thought the matter was resolved. Unless your investigation has revealed some other culprit in our midst, who but the wizard could have killed our prisoners?”

“My investigation is yet to be concluded,” Countess Daston said.

General Bennet’s cheek twitched. “Then why are we here?”

Countess Daston opened her hand to reveal one of the black stones inside. She held it between her fingers, letting everyone in the room see it before placing it on the table before her.

Hump noticed a few people push their chairs back nervously. Others stood to get a better look. For many of the lower nobility, it seemed this was the first time they’d seem one of the black stones.

“What is that doing here?” Lord Ferrand asked. “Have you gone mad?”

“You should remember to whom you are speaking, my lord.” Sir Roderick stood. Bald and dressed in his white robes, the leader of the Sheercliff Temples struck an imposing figure. His battle sceptre glimmered gold in his right hand. He appeared weary, even more so than when Hump had met him after the priestess’ death.

Lord Ferrand scowled at the man. “As if I could forget. We shouldn’t be bringing the potential weapons of our enemies to such high council.”

Lord Ferrand scowled at the man. “We should not be bringing the potential weapons of our enemy to such high council.”

“Then let me put your concerns at ease, Kennard,” Countess Daston said. “It is no weapon, but rather, it is a communications artifact like we first believed.”

The focus in the room moved back to her now.

“You mean to say you have succeeded in activating it?” Lord Ferrand asked.

“Indeed, though I can hardly take the credit.” She gestured to Graham on her left and smiled. “It was thanks to my lead researcher, Chosen Graham Fitcher, that the puzzle was solved, alongside the research of Wizard Vivienne.”

“That’s impossible,” Abraxus said. “Our own teams have seen the research. There was nothing conclusive in there. She’s been wasting our time.”

“The tests are already concluded, Inquisitor,” Countess Daston said. “Graham was able to record an essence signature that will be used as our reference for identifying and locating others like it across the city. We can finally take action. I have already arranged the necessary resources, though assistance from all factions will speed things along considerably.”

“How soon?” General Bennet asked.

“A week,” Countess Daston said. “One we3k, and the hunters shall become the hunters. The dead shall be avenged, and our streets shall be purged.”

Excited chatter ran through the room. There were cheers and applause. Excitement at progress. At finally being in a position to fight back against the warlocks that had plagued them for weeks.

Hump studied General Bennet as it happened. He took great satisfaction in watching him take in the room, and the man’s effort to hide his sneer. This success cemented Countess Daston’s position even further. Whatever Duke Malar had sent him here for, he was doing a poor job, and being shown up like this wouldn’t do him any favour. With so much of the credit going to Vivienne, that went directly against him.

Serves him right, Hump thought.

Abraxus simply sat silently in his chair, glaring furiously at Vivienne a few seats down from him. His jaw was clenched as if he were biting back his words.

“Fantastic news!” It was Sir Roderick that spoke above the chatter. “Whatever you need, you shall have it Mister Fitcher.”

Graham cleared his throat. “As Countess Daston said, I suspect we will have a prototype within the next week. That is, however, reliant on Wizard Vivienne assisting with the work. It was only because of her efforts to identify the various runes and their function that we saw such a pivotal success. Without her, I simply cannot see us progressing anything like as quickly.”

Sir Roderick frowned. “I see.” He rubbed at his chin. “I presume you are for the decision to release Wizard Vivienne, Countess?”

“It was a mistake from the very beginning,” she said. “While my investigation is still ongoing, I feel in light of this, we can trust that she was working in good faith and in service of the kingdom. With that in mind, I move to conclude her tribunal quickly, so that we can focus on the more important matters. The last few weeks have been difficult. It’s time to put aside the trivialities and move forward as a unit. Many people are relying on us to lead, and only this way can we do so with the swift strength and power necessary to beat back this threat. I need not remind you of my foresight. Wizard Vivienne’s role in this is not over.

“I wish to hear more of this artifact,” Lord Ferrand said. “Collecting an essence signature is all well and good, but to identify such a minute signal in a place as large as Sheercliff, is that even possible?”

“More than possible,” Graham said. “It has been done. It is much the same way that Mirror Messages are conveyed across long distances.”

There was a long discussion about the specifics. What assembly of the artifact with look like, the resources required to power it, and how such a thing would be manned. The numbers they discussed were… extraordinary. Wealth beyond Hump’s imagination, yet for nobles like the Ferrands, it seemed hardly a consideration. Then talk turned to Vivienne, and her involvement in such an artifact’s creation.

“The matter is as good as resolved as far as I’m concerned,” Sir Roderick said. “I trust your judgement, Justine. I know we do not always see eye to eye, but if you believe her help is necessary for the cause, you have my vote.”

“I do,” Countess Daston said.

“There is still the matter of Fishers Lake,” Abraxus insisted. “She is involved in this, Countess. I implore you, you must not let her go. And I have the evidence to prove it.”

“What evidence?” General Bennet asked.

“He is sitting right there.” Abraxus pointed directly at Hump, and all eyes turned on him.

Hump’s heart plummeted to the floor.

“Wizard Humphey Woodrow is not who he has led you to believe,” Abraxus said.

Countess Daston frowned at him. “What exactly are you saying, Inquisitor?”

“Wizard Vivienne has housed a murderer,” Abraxus said. “Where there is one evil, there are always more. You may know that I came to Sheercliff as part of an investigation into the murder of a wizard called Sethril Woodrow. It was this boy that killed his master, stole his equipment, and claimed his Adventurers’ Medallion. Your trust is misplaced.”

“I presume there is more to your truth than your word,” Countess Daston said.

“His body was uncovered in Brookwood Forest,” Abraxus said. “His throat was slit, likely in his sleep. He was buried where nobody would find him.”

“No,” Hump said, shaking his head. “My master died to a poisoned arrow to the chest. It caused a fever, and he didn’t make it. I buried him off the roads, but that’s because we were ambushed in the forest by a gang of goblins. We were in hiding.”

“He is a warlock, Countess,” Abraxus insisted. “I am sure of it. Test him if you do not believe me.”

“You can’t do this,” Bud said, rising from his chair. “This is an outrage.”

Abraxus sneered. He had the look of someone that had won. “If he has nothing to hide, then there should not be a problem.”

Hump looked to his right. At Marcela’s worried face beside him, and then to Countess Daston. “I did not do this.”

She turned away from him. “Then you need not fear the test. Graham, please test him.”