The Storm King

Proximus’ first witness was a young assistant to August. He was a timid-seeming man, barely even a first-tier mage, and his eyes were practically bulging out of his skull as they whirled around in primal panic at so many powerful people staring at him.

“Tell us what you found,” Proximus ordered, barely acknowledging the young man.

“I-I was going th-through His Highness’ letters, S-Sir,” he said, trying and failing to keep his voice stable when he felt like he was about to be crushed against the floor from the magical and social pressure he was under. “I f-found a signed order f-for Prince Trajan’s murder…”

“Give us more details,” Proximus demanded. “Who’s letters, specifically? Who was the letter addressed to? When did you find it?”

“It was P-Prince August’s letters, Sir,” the young man answered as quickly as he could. “The letter wasn’t a-addressed! I found it a w-week before Prince Trajan was murdered!”

“So, to be clear, you found an unaddressed order from Prince August, signed by His Highness, ordering the death of Prince Trajan?” Proximus sought clarification.

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Is this the letter you found?” Proximus asked, pulling a piece of paper out of his soul realm, showing it to the man.

“Yes, Sir,” the man repeated.

Proximus held the letter in front of him and read, “I hereby authorize the operation to remove my Uncle from play. Signed, Prince August Taurus.” He then passed the letter to the Arbiters for their perusal, and the High Arbiter, in particular, noted that the signature was genuine, sending one of her eyebrows almost rocketing into her hair as her eyes flitted between August and the letter in her hand.

Many of the nobles around the chamber looked unconvinced, and Leon was among them. Something so blatant, so obvious just didn’t seem like August’s style. In fact, he’d question the intelligence of anyone whose style would leave such a damning piece of physical evidence.

“I’m finished with the witness, Your Honor,” Proximus said, yielding the assistant to Martianus for cross-examination.

Martianus, grateful for what seemed like such a slam dunk, walked forward with a smile on his face. This was so much better than what he had to work with following August’s statement to Proximus.

“You say you found this letter while going through Prince August’s letters, correct?” Martianus asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What were you doing going through the Prince’s letters?”

“I was gathering them, Sir, preparing them to be sent to those they had been addressed to.”

“And yet, you found an unaddressed letter? Was it unsealed? Is that how you read it?”

“It was unsealed, Sir. I-I couldn’t help but look at it since it was unaddressed.”

“Did you see His Highness write this letter with his own hand?”

“N-No, Sir.”

“Can you say for certain that this letter wasn’t forged?”

“I can’t, Sir.”

“Your Honor, I would like to file a motion to dismiss this evidence as faulty,” Martianus said to the High Arbiter.

“I would agree,” she immediately replied. August’s signature on the letter was genuine, to be sure, but a politically active Prince could sign hundreds of things every day. Forging a signature was nothing.

However, it seemed that her fellow Arbiters were not so dismissive. To the High Arbiter’s astonishment, only one of her colleagues agreed with her. To dismiss a piece of evidence required a vote by the supervising Arbiters, and the other three denied the motion.

The High Arbiter scowled and glared at the three who voted against Martianus’ motion.

“What reason have you for accepting this evidence?” she asked.

“Because it is evidence,” one replied, speaking for the other two as well. “We can’t pick and choose what evidence we collect, especially since this signature appears to be genuine.”

The High Arbiter glared at him, resolving to look into his affairs when this was over. However, her hands were tied. “Motion to dismiss this letter is… denied…”

Martianus quickly began to sport a scowl to match hers, but fortunately, it was his turn to call a witness, and his first choice was the Brimstone Paladin, who happily left his seat and walked right up to the stone platform, relieving the young assistant who made himself scarce as quickly as he was able to.

“Sir, what can you tell me about the relationship between Prince Trajan and Prince August?”

“They were quite cooperative, without a hint of strife between them,” Brimstone quickly replied.

“So the idea that Prince August had Prince Trajan murdered is, in your opinion…?”

“Ludicrous. Prince Trajan was Prince August’s greatest supporter, it would gain Prince August nothing to have Prince Trajan murdered. In fact, this whole affair benefits no one but Prince August’s rival, Prince Octavius.”

“Are you making an accusation?”

“I am,” Brimstone said without hesitation, sending quiet whispers echoing throughout the chamber. “Upon Prince Trajan’s body was discovered a gem containing the magic body of Caecilius Symmachus Aemilianus, the seventh-tier founder of the Bluefire Guild. He verified that it was Petrus Duronius that struck the killing blow!”

All eyes in the chamber turned in the Earthshaker Paladin’s direction, but he seemed not to care. In fact, he stared back at the Brimstone Paladin, nothing but contempt and arrogant pride on his face.

“And where is this gem now?” Martianus asked, his face lighting up in muted triumph.

“I have it right here,” Brimstone said, reaching into his breast pocket and retrieving a small red ruby, now freed of the plate that it had once been embedded in.

“I object to this!” Proximus shouted, pointing at the gem.

“For what reason?” the High Arbiter asked. “I, for one, would love to hear what a seventh-tier mage has to say about these matters.”

“Only one witness may be called at a time!” Proximus explained.

The High Arbiter stared at him, her aged face resting in an expression of mild disdain and disapproval. Slowly, she turned back to Martianus and said, “He has a point.”

Martianus nodded, took possession of the ruby, and then said, “Thank you, Sir, my questions are done.”

Proximus stepped forward without even being called and immediately launched into his own questions.

“Where were you on the night of Prince Trajan’s death, Sir Saturnius?” he asked, his voice quivering with his attempts to keep it neutral and without anger.

“Here at the palace, surrounded by many who can verify it,” Brimstone unhesitatingly answered before quickly listing off a few names of people he’d been in contact with who were now in Assembly seats, all of whom nodded in response when the High Arbiter cast her gaze to each.

“Do you have any knowledge regarding where Prince August was that night?” Proximus asked.

“… I do not,” Brimstone answered.

“Thank you, Sir,” Proximus said, ending his questioning.

His next witness was another of August’s secretaries who’d been arrested not long before August. She testified that she had heard August and Trajan arguing the day before Trajan had died, but Martianus got her to admit that she never actually saw the two arguing, nor could she say what the argument was about.

When Martianus’ turn next came, he lay the ruby down on the stone platform and asked, “Can you hear me, Caecilius?”

“I can,” came Caecilius’ voice from the ruby, bringing some amount of surprise to many in the Assembly chamber. None of them knew who Caecilius was since he’d died so long ago, but they could at least feel the last remnants of his power contained within the gem, so there was little doubt as to his identity.

But that wasn’t to say there was no doubt at all.

Caecilius quickly narrated the events of the night Trajan died, including when Trajan identified Earthshaker by name, again drawing many a look in Earthshaker’s direction. However, the Paladin looked about as perturbed as he had previously, and barely even acknowledged that he was being called out before all the greatest men and women of the Kingdom.

Martianus had little to add following Caecilius’ testimony, but Proximus was another matter entirely.

“Have you any solid evidence tying Sir Petrus to these events?” Proximus asked Caecilius.

“I was there, I heard them speak. Is that not solid enough for you?” Caecilius imperiously shot back.

“Depends on how trustworthy others find your word, I suppose,” Proximus replied, sneaking in a quick grin toward Martianus. “Seems a bit convenient that Prince Trajan identified his killer so clearly, and that his killer happens to be affiliated with Prince August’s own brother, who he’s already admitted to attempting to supplant as King Julius’ heir.”

“Are you implying that I’m lying?!”

“How can anyone believe your word? Who even are you? You don’t even have blood we can test to verify your identity! You could be anyone!” Without waiting for Caecilius to respond, Proximus turned away from him to address the Assembly as he would a regular jury. “How are we supposed to take this thing seriously? For all we know, this could be nothing more than a cleverly enchanted ruby! And even if it does contain a magic body, that doesn’t make it alive!

“No matter what this thing claims to be, in point of fact, it is an instrument of slander and little else! Maybe it was once a man, and maybe that man had a respectable level of power, I can’t say, but now it’s a shiny talking stone, and its ‘opinion’ ought to be treated accordingly!

“Your Honor, my questions are done.”

The High Arbiter nodded for Proximus to continue with his next witness, while Martianus scanned the room. What he found was a depressing number of people who seemed to be resonating with what Proximus had said. His expectations for this trial going his way weren’t high to begin with, but now, with his only witness with first-hand knowledge of Prince Trajan’s murder effectively discredited, his expectations were plummeting through the floor.

Proximus’ next witness was, much like the previous two, one of August’s people who had been arrested a day or two before the Prince, except this time he was a knight from a long line of hereditary knights with a history of service to the Royal Family. And just like those before, this knight testified that August had been in conflict with Trajan and had been falling out with him over some disagreement. What that disagreement was, no one seemed to know.

When Martianus cross-examined the knight, he wasn’t able to bring to light any great revelation; the knight stuck to his guns that he heard August and Trajan getting into several heated arguments and that office gossip was that the two despised each other.

For hours, the two lawyers kept calling witnesses to testify, cross-examining them and trying to poke holes in the other’s story. For the most part, Martianus continued trying to prove that August had nothing to do with Trajan’s death, and Proximus tried to establish reasonable motivation for August to want Trajan dead.

Six hours after the trial began—without any breaks—the two finally ran out of witnesses. Nothing new had been said that hadn’t been said by the first couple of witnesses in one way or another, just more evidence onto the pile—though Leon couldn’t help but notice, and he was sure that others had as well, that Proximus had never actually established how August was supposed to have killed Trajan—and with no more witnesses, it was time for the piles to be judged, much to the relief of many in the Assembly chamber.

For his part, Leon was quite surprised that the trial was going so quickly, even if he was rather dismayed at how poorly it was going. Many trials could take days, and he was fully expecting this one to take weeks. However, it seemed that everyone wanted this one over with quickly, and someone had gone to great lengths to ensure that this was a quick and speedy affair. He didn’t know if that was the High Arbiter, Octavius, or someone else, and he didn’t even know if he should feel concerned or not. He couldn’t ask Minerva about it, either, as the High Arbiter had several times made good on her promise to throw people out who were talking, and he wanted to stay until the end.

The two lawyers made their closing statements—essentially repeating their opening statements and urging the Assembly members to vote their way—and the trial came to a swift end. All that remained was a vote.

All eyes turned to the High Arbiter as both lawyers, their jobs done, descended from the platform to wait with the scribes. Only August remained on the platform with the five Arbiters.

The High Arbiter cleared her throat to grab attention, though the Assembly chamber, full as it was with hundreds of Assembly members and thousands of their attendants, was dead silent.

“If anyone requires a break to think things over, please say so,” she said, casting her gaze around the room. For such a monumental event, deciding the guilt of a Prince over the murder of another Prince, she expected at least a few people to speak up. She, of course, wasn’t blind to the factionalism that had plagued the Royal court of late, but there were still large numbers of neutral parties in the Assembly, and she thought that some of these people might need an hour or two to deliberate over all that they had just heard.

Not a single person spoke up. She could just call for a break anyway, but more than any other emotion, she saw impatience in the crowd. In the minds of many, this had already gone on for too long. What ‘this’ meant, though, she wasn’t sure—perhaps it was the trial, or maybe it was the constant politicking, or it could’ve been the instability in the Kingdom following the King’s seclusion.

The High Arbiter frowned, turned to look at her fellow Arbiters and when none of them spoke up, she quietly sighed and said, “Very well. Let us begin the vote.”

The first Arbiter, the one furthest to the left from August’s perspective, wasted no time in rising to his feet and declaring to the Assembly, “Guilty!”

August’s face fell. It was expected that at least some of the Arbiters would side against him, but it still hurt.

The second Arbiter from the left rose once the first returned to his seat. “Guilty!” she shouted, her voice echoing in the immense chamber.

August’s heart sank into his feet. Two out of five. It would only take one more and his fate would be as good as sealed. His head would part from his neck, his mother would be assassinated, and his sister would be either exiled to some tiny estate in the country, married off to the tenth son of some minor noble or otherwise ‘disappeared’.

The Arbiter furthest from the right rose to his feet. His face was solemn. Stoic. Grave. All the proper words for sentencing a Prince to death. “Guilty,” he whispered, his voice still carrying throughout the room.

August stared at the man, his eyes dead and disbelieving. The trial was a sham. There had been little conclusive evidence on either side, so he’d thought he’d had a good chance of at least getting the Arbiters on his side, even if the Assembly had a better shot of overriding their vote.

‘No…’ he thought, his body suddenly breaking out in sweat as dread flooded his mind, only marginally stymied by hatred when his eyes, in their desperate attempt to not look at the man who had just sealed his fate, happened to land on the smiling face of Octavius.

His brother had won. August would for sure be dead in less than a day. Octavius would have no rivals, and with the King’s infirmity, he had no obstacles remaining between him and the throne.

With everything that was now running through August’s mind, from his fear for his family to his worry for his friends and allies living under Octavius’ thumb, the Fourth Prince didn’t manage to catch the fourth Arbiter’s judgment, not that it mattered much at this point. The High Arbiter’s decision, though, he did manage to pay attention to.

“Not guilty,” she said, though it meant little. She was the High Arbiter, the highest-ranking judge in all the land, second only to the King. And yet, she had only one vote. Her gesture was symbolic, and nothing more, though August did take some small comfort in her pitying gaze, her eyes wrinkled in pity and concern. As much as she wanted to help, her power was limited when the opinions of so many were against her; even she couldn’t overrule the Assembly.

August slumped back in his chair, any trace of Royal dignity now gone. The past two weeks had left him too weak to maintain it under these circumstances. He vaguely registered the High Arbiter calling for the Assembly’s vote, but he wasn’t sure how much it would matter. Perhaps the High Arbiter making her position on the matter clear would sway enough people to his side, but he somehow doubted it. Octavius had probably gotten to the other four Arbiters, and if he did that, then he probably had more than enough support within the Assembly that the entire trial was nothing more than a formality. August wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Octavius probably had enough votes in the Assembly that corrupting the Arbiters wasn’t even necessary.

It would certainly explain why the Earthshaker Paladin barely even reacted to the accusation of murdering Prince Trajan. It simply didn’t matter.

‘Why am I even thinking about all of this?’ August wondered as the Assembly votes were taken and tallied. There was still some smidgeon of hope, but even if there wasn’t, over the past few years, his mind had gotten used to constantly considering and ruminating over political problems. With nothing else, his mind fell back into these habits.

“What is the decision of the Assembly?” the High Arbiter loudly and formally asked, bringing August back to reality.

Her highest-ranked scribe reported back to her, “Your Honor, the final count is one thousand and seventy-three for ‘guilty’, and four hundred and forty-two for ‘not guilty’. Eighteen abstaining.”

There were a little under four hundred members of the Assembly still unaccounted for, being simply too far away to reach the capital in time for the trial, but their votes weren’t counted. Even if they were defaulted to abstention or not guilty, Octavius still had the clear majority.

August had been condemned.

“… Very well,” the High Arbiter murmured, her sharp eyes memorizing each and every person who voted guilty. She could do nothing about them now, but she’d remember them.

She returned to her seat, turned her eyes back to August, and gave the final verdict.

“August of House Taurus, fourth son of King Julius Septimius of House Taurus, Prince of the Bull Kingdom, you have been found guilty of the murder of Prince Trajan Anastasius of House Taurus. For the charge of murder, you have been found guilty. For the charge of high treason, you have been found guilty. For the charge of kinslaying, you have been found guilty. For the charge…”

She continued to list off the charges of which August was now officially guilty of, and his eyes glazed over. It hardly mattered at this point to anyone but the scribes scribbling it all down. All three of the first charges carried the same punishment, and it rendered all the rest moot.

“… For all of these,” the High Arbiter finished, “the punishment is death by beheading. The sentence will be carried out at noon tomorrow.”