My Beloved Keeper

Ch. 1. Trial Part 1

House of darkness,

House of sin.

Through your judgment

Lives shall sink

Into darkness and despair,

When your word of sentence's said.

It was a gloomy night, a night of horror and betrayal, a night of shed blood. The moon was hidden behind the clouds. How could she stand by, how could she witness such a terrible crime, a crime that not even the heavens could stand. A roar was heard into the deep of the night … the shrieks of beasts … the crying and the pleading of an exiled people.

The House of Judgment.

"Today, November the 13th, the year of our Lord 1313, the man known as John Luca Keeper, was called in front of The Council of the Seven Piles, under the indictment of treason against the people of God and allegiance with the ones called Beasts of Darkness", the words resounded into the Great Hall of Judgment, as the people made way for the accused to pass.

John Luca Keeper was a man in his early fifties, a wretched man, as the signs of imprisonment were clearly noticeable on his body. He was taken as prisoner two days prior to his trial, and although he was the head of one of the prestigious families in The Great Kingdom, he wasn't treated different from any other criminals. In fact he was treated much worse. He was tortured beyond his darkest dreams, he who was born with the duty of dealing with the Kingdom's 'sensitive' problems; inducing pain, torturing his enemies has been his existence almost for all his life, that is until he discovered that the darkness has its shades of light, and that the beasts wear different masks.

This was the judgment of man, the judgment of his brothers and sisters, of the ones who called themselves The People of God.

"The prisoner is asked to take stand!", one of the guard said, and John obeyed. It was strange that he still found himself in that underdog position, after swearing never to comply to their demands again. A life of freedom, that's what he wished for. No, not that…just a life. A life for himself and for everyone who was worthy to walk the ground, no matter what form they wore. So he dragged himself to the stand, surrounded by the curses and the howls of the men occupying the hall. He thought how terribly meanly he must look, and what a pain for the eye he must be and was happy he didn't have to see himself in that condition.

A noble man has fallen.

"Sir Keeper do you understand the charges that are being brought to you?", the Head of The Council of the Seven Piles asked him with a rather mockingly look.

"I regretfully inform you, that I do not understand. You see there have been a devilish couple of days, and as you might notice from the condition I appeared in front of you, I am a tide bit tired. I'm afraid my brains won't work to their full capacity today so I apologize upfront for any ambiguous explanations that I am to present myself to you in this blissful day." The crowd burst into an uproar at the criminal's disrespectful answer, the words "heresy", "devil" and "beast" were heard, and the poor man had to come under the guards protection as the crowd swooped upon him like a sly snake upon a poor mouse.

The predator has become the pray.

The violent men and women were finally calmed down by the words of the Council. "That was hardly necessarily, John" the Head spoke once more.

"Really? Than you should tell me how to speak properly, Walter, or perhaps you should imprison me. Perhaps the laws have changed since last I read the Code, and now irony is against the law…"

"That's enough, John, you don't understand the gravity of the situation you are in. You know very well that treason is a crime punished by death."

"Treason? And what do…"

"Silence!", Sir Keeper's words were interrupted by the harsh command of one of the other members of the Council. He was awful young for such a high position, but that couldn't be helped. The position in the Council was transmitted through blood. Reginald was the son of the late Sir Uriah of Ember, who died a year and a half ago due to a severe pneumonia, and his son inherited his "chair" as one would say. "The prisoner is advised to keep his tongue and only answer to the questions he is asked." Keeper was a bit taken aback, especially that he knew the youngster. He taught him how to ride when he was no higher that a garden fence, and know this very slip of a boy dares to order him when to speak and when not to.

"I guess respect is only ranked by your position. Such big words, from a boy terrified to mount a horse."

The youngster's face grew so red that he could easily put a shy girl to shame, and wanted to protest but he was stopped by the words of Sir Walter of Innisroar "There's no need for such peevish words. We are all men here after all."

"Men? Yes, indeed men we all are" came Keepers slightly ironical response.

"Sir Walter you can not accept such a behavior. Even the most sly of criminals knows that he should keep his mouth shot when he is in front of the Council. And yet you allow this…"

"Be quiet, Reginald!", the head's words came harsher than he intended, and Reginald could nothing but obey. True, he was a member of the Council, but he lack experience. And everyone knows that nothing in life goes according to rules. And sometimes the same rules set for the better conduct of the people must be broken in order to establish the desired peace.

"Sir Keeper", now an incredibly thin old lady, also a member of the Council, spoke "It has been brought to our attention that you are responsible for some activities that according to our Code are considered illegal. I advise you admit your crimes. If you state the truth, God will grand you a much lighter punishment when you would have crossed over."

"Oh, now I'm relieved. Since God himself told you that I will not suffer as much if I confess, I guess that would be best, would it not? You are after all the spiritual authority in this Kingdom. In whose hands could we put our souls if not in yours?".

"Blasphemy!"

"Hang him!"

"A devil should not walk the ground!"

"Order! Order!" commanded the Head of the Council, but his words were in vain. The crowd grew violent by the minute. The guards could hardly keep them under control. Hell broke loose in that place of judgment and a dark blanket of raging clouds covered the sky.

"Head Walter, the crowd can't be contained anymore. I'm afraid that at this time a public trial is no longer possible. We must go on with closed doors.", one of the other members of the Council spoke, as their eyes were headed towards the chaos that overcome the Hall. And in that overwhelming madness rose the figure of Sir Keeper; and such a serene look he wore, and such a calmness his body gave off that he appeared like an angel lost in the chasm of hell. "What are you up to, John?" the Head asked himself. "Get the people out of here. We have to finish this tonight. I can't have him poison the minds of the people."

The guards set off…the people were taken out…the hall was cleared.

In stood the judge…in stood the accused.