AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He steps back out of the cell, closing the door behind him. We wait until he’s no longer in sight, then get out of the cot, letting the blanket fall. The mood is somber as we wash using the hot water. They brought soap as well, and we clean off our sweaty, sticky bodies. I can feel Dura’s dark mood through our bond. She truly believes that we are headed to our deaths. But I believe in Adalind. She will work to save us. We merely have to trust her and follow her lead. I send my hopeful feelings to Dura through the bond and she huffs a laugh before pulling on the clothes she was brought. It’s a leather tunic that fits her perfectly and some cloth trousers that hug her shapely legs like a second skin.
“You cannot truly think that we are heading toward anything but banishment?” she asks, before pulling on her boots.
I finish washing and start pulling on my own clothes. They actually aremyclothes, from my own chests. Adalind must have had them fetched from storage. I’m surprised she still has them, since she thought I was dead for months.
“You do not know Adalind,” I tell Dura. “She would not have given us hope if there was no chance, and she is both clever and wise. If anyone can save us from theKillikar,it is her.”
I finish pulling on my clothes and doing up the ties. Then I fetch my dragon leather braid and start winding it up my arm, a mirror tothe twin braid on Dura’s arm. I struggle to tie it at the top and Dura comes over to me, batting my fingers away before fixing it to her liking. It’s nice. A domestic moment of a wife fixing her husband’s clothes.My wife. I like the thought of that and smile.
Dura sees my smile and snorts. “The woman in the other cell is right. Youarean idiot.”
I’m still laughing when the door opens again, the prison master flanked by guards.
Alright. Time to get this over with.
???
The throne room is both as I remember it and different. The old tapestries have been replaced with banners sporting the symbols of both Adrik and Orik, blue and gold mingling with black and green. Yorian’s old throne, a gaudy golden chair, is gone. In its place is a huge wooden throne, intricately carved. The orc king sits on it and Adalind, in an identical chair, sits at his side, an equal. Her old throne was half the size of Yorian’s and two paces back, letting everyone know that she had no power. Her situation has vastly changed and I am glad for it.
Dura and I are brought to the center of the room, guards on either side of us. What their purpose is, I don’t know, as both Dura and I are here willingly. The throne room is flooded with people, both nobles I recognize and orcs who I do not. There’s standing room only. It seems like everyone is desperately anticipating what we are going to say and did not want to miss it.
When we are situated, Adalind stands, clapping her hands together once. “Lords and ladies, warriors and shieldmaidens, you are brought this day to witness the trial of General Dura ka Woreki. But first, we have an announcement for the court. Because of the swift action of General Dura and Sir Marvik, Grimblton was saved.The Barakrini forces were expelled back over the border and the townsfolk were safe in Castle Grimble. There were only a few injuries on our side and no casualties. Though we have no doubt that there will be another attack, we will not be taken unawares. We owe a debt of gratitude to General Dura and Sir Marvik.”
A murmur goes through the gathered audience. It is not usually how trials begin and the queen’s words put us in a favorable position. Will she try to dismiss the charges just based on that alone? It would be flimsy at best and would still reek of favoritism, which I thought we were trying to avoid.
But Adalind isn’t done. “Though this is true, we cannot completely forget that serious crimes lay at General Dura’s feet. The charges brought against her are desertion and dereliction of duty.” She turns to Dura. “Do you have a defense?”
Before Dura can respond negatively and doom us both, I interject. “I have a defense for my mate, Your Majesty. I ask, if it pleases our rulers, to act as her advocate.”
Adalind’s face doesn’t change, but I think I can detect a pleased glimmer in her eye, as if I did what she expected. “If you are to be her advocate, who shall be her adversary?” asks Adalind.
“I will speak for the honor of the Horde,” comes a voice I don’t recognize. A gray-ish green hulking orc comes forward. I remember him from the day in the courtyard, the one standing next to Pellia, the former king’s mistress and secretly Adalind’s friend. I knew they had a good relationship with each other and worked to keep it from Yorian, as he liked the thought of them being adversarial. I suppose they bonded over both being victims of his capricious cruelty.
“The throne recognizes Warchief Verrick ka Roknir,” Adalind says ceremonially, “Orc Regent of Adrik. You will be General Dura’s adversary?”
“I am not of her clan,” he says simply, “and thus can remain impartial. I was also at the Battle of Fort Attis and can speak to the possible repercussions General Dura’s desertion may have had on the Horde.”
“Then we are ready for the defense,” declares Adalind to the rapt watchers. This is probably the most dramatic trial they have ever witnessed. Adalind sits back on her throne, waving a hand at me to begin.
I have not had anytime to prepare, but I know what happened and can spin it into a good light. I step forward and then turn to face Dura. She looks at me with a guarded expression, but I can feel in our bond it is because she is feeling overwhelmed and out of her depth. This is not how they do things in Orik, but this is the only way that she can be saved.
“General Dura,” I start, “tell us, in your own words, what happened that day at Fort Attis.”
Dura gives me a mulish look and for a moment I think the stubborn orcress will not speak, but then she opens her mouth. “We broke through Adrik’s defenses. I was at My King’s side, pushing to the inner sanctum. Our goal was to find the human king and kill him, ending the war.”
This is good. She’s telling a story, even if she sounds stiff, like a soldier giving report. She continues, “We broke through to the courtyard and saw Yorian being taken up some stairs into a black tower. You stood at the bottom, defending the rear.”
“What did you do then, General?” asks the orc Verrick, breaking into the story. I almost forgot that he was there as adversary.
Dura frowns, then sighs. “I gave Rognar my Oath that I would kill the human captain or die trying.”
A troubled murmur runs through the orc spectators. Even Adalind, from my peripheral vision, looks stunned. Apparently, this is terrible, but I don’t know why.
“For the humans watching,” I say, “explain what that means.”
Dura looks around at everyone watching, but I send her reassurance through the bond. That brings her eyes back to me. She explains, “An Oath is a serious thing in Orik. To break an Oathmeans to lose all honor and standing, to be disgraced in front of your king and people. It means that you can never be trusted by other warriors ever again.”
Shit. Thatisbad. I glance over at the orc Warchief that asked the question. It’s almost like he knew what to ask, what would make Dura look the worst in front of his people. So, he’s not a plant by Adalind. Or if he is, he’s still actually trying to do his job as adversary. That’s good to know. My eyes find Pellia, who was at the orc’s side, but her face is studiously impassive. It’s hard to tell who’s side she’s on.
