A/N: Hello everyone. Firstly, I want to say that I am very sorry for the massive delay in getting this chapter out. I had had about a quarter of the chapter written when some not-so-great things happened in my life that made it difficult to write. Then, when I again had the time and ability, I found that I had lost all my passion and inspiration to do so. I guess depression had a way of eating up all my creativity, but I'm finally managing things a little better. So again, I do apologize for the wait. I will try my very best to get the next chapter out sooner. I really hope this chapter manages to be worth the wait despite everything. Thanks so much to all of you for reading: your support means the world and really makes writing worthwhile.
PacificZip16: Thanks so much! He really hasn't had the best time in this series, has he? I'm sad it'll be ending soon as well. Thanks again!
KiiroDora: Thank you! I'm always happy to see updates from you as well. It has been fun getting the chance to explore his character a little more than we get in canon. I really have enjoyed writing this story, it's been great. I hope it's been enjoyable to read too. I appreciate the review!
Dragonslover98: Baron Douglass is no more lol. The answer to that will be in this chapter, so I hope it proves to be an enjoyable chapter despite the delay. Thanks so much for the review, it means a lot.
Crow1203: I'm glad to hear you have been enjoying it despite AUs not being your favorite. To be honest, they're not often my favorites either: to read or write. But the plot bunny for this one just wouldn't go away. I'm sad to see it end, but it will be nice getting back to the shorter stories. Thanks so much for the review, it made my day!
Jammeke: Thank you! Yes, the fall out of that no good very bad horrible night has been in the background of this verse for a while. It's been fun writing as it unfolds and I hope its resolution is enjoyable despite the wait. Thanks so much for the review!
BellatrixTheStar: Yes, finally Halt will get the chance to fix some of the damage. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I have been trying to make my writing fit RA style-wise as much as possible so to hear it has been working makes me happy. To answer your question, without too many spoilers, it's not a closed-off sort of thing, and we'll get to how it ends pretty soon. However, the idea of the stone and changing that one point in time was indeed the idea that sparked this story, so that plot point is definitely a big part of things. Thanks so much for the review, I appreciate it!
End3000: Thanks so much for the vote of confidence and your kind words. I'm really glad you enjoyed this chapter. It definitely was a sort of culmination of everything and I was happy to write Halt having the chance to fix some of the things that went wrong. I promise to answer that question in this chapter, hopefully in a satisfactory way despite the wait. Sir Richard does have a part to play yet lol. To answer your question, it was my thought that Gilan knows he's not around because he looked into what happened to Rubin after he was sent to the capital for trial (since the tax fraud was a crime against the King). I've never heard that song but it actually does fit pretty well. Again, thank you so much for the support, it really means the world to know you have been enjoying the story so much. No need to apologize, I appreciate the overanalyzing :D Thanks again!
TheCatholicDragonridingHealer: I must admit it always piques my ire when people misread his cheerful nature and humor for ignorance and his playfulness for lack of skill when that clearly isn't true. He is, in fact, quite a dangerous character whose cheerfulness and playful nature hides a very cunning/devious mind and whose often nonchalant and friendly outward appearance hides a very skilled/deadly fighter (I mean the books do flat out say it). *sigh indeed* So to answer your questions yes Gilan can speak with Blaze in this verse, he just hasn't really had much opportunity to do so lately (plus it might fall to me being a little lazy and overwhelmed as there are so many characters to juggle and I haven't been able to figure out an organic point of conversation to arise between them. I'll work on that). No, lady Pauline is not married in this verse. The thought about having two sons was one of the instances where characters have a brief flash of memory of the other world (which I have had happen to several of Halt's close friends/family). She was vaguely remembering a Will and Gilan that didn't exist in this timeline and then got confused by the thoughts/memories. I edited the spot in question to make it clearer. Thanks for pointing it out. Gilan remembers much of his life after Halt, just not really anything before. So, it's safe to say he does remember a fair bit about the events in Celtica. Hope that helps. Do you have any suggestions as to how to make the Kalkara fight longer or more believable? I'd be happy to hear them if so. Thanks so much for the review! I really appreciate it!
TrustTheCloak: Awww :) thanks so much! I really love seeing him in different situations where he has the chance to grow a little more than we see in canon too. Yes, that is a pretty heartbreaking aspect of this story and even of RA in general: they are so young to be dealing with so much. (Makes me feel a little guilty for writing them into these situations. Yes, the truth will be out this chapter and some resolutions are on their way. I hope they prove to be satisfactory. Thanks again for the compliments and for the review. You made my day!
Guest: Thanks so much! The next chapter is finally out. I am sorry for the delay.
VanyaNoldo22: No worries! (I am in absolutely no position to judge *hangs head in shame*) Thanks so much for the review! The last part was actually very satisfying to write. The truth will definitely be on its way out. Yes, he did indeed. No worries for the jargon either X) I'm glad you finished your first law subject! Are you majoring in law? I went more of the way criminology/sociology myself X). I hope this term went well for you too. Congratulations on your third year in college! Thanks so much for the review! It means a lot!
Chapter 31: The Weave of Time Part II
"You say you wanted information, Ranger?" Dan Culver asked as he brought forward the steaming cup of coffee that he had offered when Crowley had knocked at the door of his home.
It was a small but comfortable cottage near the edge of the village. It had taken Crowley a bit of searching and asking around to find the young man, but Crowley had eventually found him. Of the three village boys that Halt had named, it seemed that Dan was the only one still living in the village. The other two, brothers by the name of Basil and Falsworth, hadn't lived in Highcliff for several years.
"We'd be happy to help if we can, Ranger," Dan's wife, Britta said. Behind her, their young son hid behind her skirts, daring only enough to peak his eyes behind the fabric.
Crowley allowed himself a small smile before he turned to Dan. "It might be best if we spoke alone," he suggested, tipping his head in the direction of the young boy.
"Right," Britta said then, guessing he meant that the content of the conversation might be a bit much for young ears. "We'll let you two talk. Come, Tobin, why don't you help me with my spinning?" she said as she left the room, the young boy following.
"So, what is it that can I help you with?" Dan asked as soon as the door had closed behind them, a touch of apprehension coming into his voice.
"I was hoping that you might be able to clear up, or give me some more details on something that happened several years ago now."
"I'll certainly try if I'm able," Dan said.
"See, I recently ran across a wandering mercenary—he actually helped save my life when I was accosted by roadside bandits. We got to know each other fairly well, and he had a very fascinating story to tell," Crowley said, hoping that by implying he'd gotten the story from Gilan it might make Dan more likely to talk. "You'd not know it to look at him, but he claimed he was once of the nobility, a knight apprentice who lived in this fief." Crowley watched the young man carefully for a reaction and was not disappointed. Dan seemed to pale a little, rubbing his hands in front of him. Crowley didn't give him time to think and instead continued on, keeping the young man off balance. "He told me that he'd been framed for a crime in his youth and eventually even told me the names of the people responsible."
"And my name was one that came up, was it?" Dan ventured; his tone more resigned than incredulous.
Crowley nodded. "Honestly, I don't know if it's true or not." Though initially a true statement, the more he learned, Dan's reactions now, and Halt's faith in his former student were beginning to slowly tip the evidence in the mercenary's favor. "But, if it is true, then not only was this mercenary convicted and banished from this fief for a crime he didn't even commit, but he is in a great deal of trouble now. That said, learning the truth could be very important."
"How so?" Dan asked quietly
"He came back to this fief to warn us of Morgarath's attack and had a hand in helping us turn them back, protecting this fief and everyone in it from Morgarath, his Wargals, and his hired Skandians. But, because to do it he broke the conditions of his expulsion, he faces execution at the hands of the Baron now for his efforts. That said, I was hoping that you might be able to tell me if the story was true."
"I see." Dan, sat down heavily. He was silent for several long moments before he squared his shoulders and faced Crowley. "It's true; every word of it. I'll not try hiding it from you, Ranger," Dan admitted, quietly.
"All of it?" Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise, not having expected a confession so easily.
Dan nodded miserably. "You say the Baron is going to try to execute him now, for coming back?"
"Unless we can find someone willing to testify on his behalf."
Again, Dan sat in silence before he lifted his head. "If I come clean to the Baron, it could save his life?"
Crowley nodded. "Though, I can't guarantee what will happen to you if you do—given that you just admitted that you lied under oath to the Baron at that trial."
Dan nodded miserably; he knew that. Silence reigned as he thought about it for a moment, looked around at the cozy house that he shared with his wife and child. Finally, he slumped his shoulders with a sigh. He looked up at the Ranger's face and into his eyes: eyes that didn't match the viciousness of the scar that marred his features. Rangers were, according to legend, black magicians; however, they were also protectors of the people, those to be called on, relied on, when things went wrong—even small things like missing goats or predators attacking livestock.
This Ranger was an entirely different sort of man from himself, Dan knew. He was one who had dedicated himself to warfare, bared plainly in the way he looked and held himself… though not for personal gain or thoughts that there was glory to be found in spilled blood, but instead to defend; so that people like him still had fields to plow. So they could coax life up from the earth to share with others in peace. He had gotten the impression, all those years ago, that the Battlemaster's son might have been of the same kind—knew he probably was now: he'd gone so far as to risk his own life to help the people that had turned on him once.
Guilt and regret made their presence painfully known in his chest as he thought it. Though he'd always tried to justify the whole mess, put it from his mind, he could still remember the Battlemaster's son's face, the look in his eyes when Dan had voiced his lies. It had always stuck with him. Maybe it was because they'd been so close in age, maybe because of guilt. Perhaps, he thought then, perhaps it was long past time for people like him to defend men like this Ranger and the Battlemaster's son in their turn—to return the favor as it were.
"I have a home and family now, a lot to lose, true," Dan said finally. "But, if you're to be believed, Ranger, then it's because of him that my wife, child, and I are still living here in peace. Its' because of him that our village is still intact and defended. I know what happened to the Battlemaster's son; I heard the stories the Battleschool apprentices whispered." He closed his eyes, shuddering at the memory. "His life was destroyed because of me once. He doesn't deserve to be killed because of me too—killed because I was too afraid to tell the truth."
~x~X~x~
Gilan felt himself freeze for the blink of a moment as all eyes in the room turned towards him in response to Baron Douglass's accusation. Although he wasn't technically a Ranger in this time, he still had the same inherent dislike for being the focal point that he'd had in that other time. It had never been a safe position to be in, and it was even less safe now.
His heartbeat accelerated and his hand closed instinctively and unobtrusively over the hilt of his sword. His eyes immediately pinpointed the position of all the men at arms in the room and the escape routes he had already made note of upon entry. Then he sought out Will and Horace. Both were a fair distance away, Will nearer to Arald and his men, and Horace closer to the head of the hall.
As Highcliff was a border fief, Gilan knew that there was a protocol put in place for a quick and smooth transition of power should the Baron ever be incapacitated or otherwise indisposed. Since Douglass had no heir, the Seneschal Phillip was to take immediate command of the fief. However, even though it was a practiced expectation, in the confusion, there would likely be a few moments pause before Phillip fully stepped into the role and took charge. If they were quick, acted immediately, maybe he could get Will, Horace, and himself to safety before…
Will and Horace had both startled, Horace even reeling back a pace as they took in Douglass's words. In their eyes, he saw the same startled surprise and shocked dismay that had taken many of the others in the room. And it was only then that he considered how the Baron's accusation had likely sounded to them, how it had as good as confirmed to them that he was, or had been, a condemned criminal—that he had never been upfront with them and had lied, if only by omission, about the nature of his past and, so far as they knew, about the nature of himself. He felt his face drain of color at the realization and had to physically stop himself from stepping back in turn. He looked away before the dismay he could see in their eyes turned into shattered faith, shattered trust. He'd seen it happen before in others and he didn't think he could bear to see it in them.
The horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was made sharp by the realization that it was over now—everything they'd built together. Will and Horace likely wouldn't ever look at him the same way again. He had then the dull realization that he probably should have tried to tell them everything sooner. But then shook his head internally, tiredly. They would have had no more cause to believe him earlier than they would have now… The truth was that he had likely just, for a second time in his life, lost everything, lost his family. This time he wasn't able to stop the compulsion to take a backward step and then another. He knew instinctively that there was nothing left but to run— now, before it was too late.
But it was already too late.
"Seize him!" the order came from the Seneschal who had, during Gilan's brief hesitation, moved into the fore of the receiving room to take Douglass's place.
Several soldiers, led by none other than Sir Richard, jumped immediately to do his bidding. Gilan's eyes took in the threat at a glance, blood running cold as he noted the disgust, anger, shock, and even hatred that darkened the eyes and expressions of the men who had begun to close in on him. Likely as not, many of them remembered the incident and trial those years ago, remembered the death of the merchant's wife and her child, remembered his supposed betrayal of the knight's code. They were, therefore, entirely confident of the threat he posed.
Gilan stepped back into a defensive stance, edging back, hand gripping the hilt of his sword all the more firmly. He found himself wishing vaguely that he had had the time to replace his arrows before coming here. With his sword as his only viable weapon in this situation, he knew he was at a distinct disadvantage and in a great deal of danger besides as the soldiers closed in, blocking all the viable escape routes and cutting him off from everyone else in the hall.
"Gilan, son of Sir David," the Seneschal called, "you are under arrest for breaking the conditions of your expulsion from this fief. I demand your surrender under the authority of the King and the law: lay down your arms and come peaceably or we will be forced to subdue you."
"I don't think so," Gilan's voice was ice, his sword seemingly materializing in his hands he'd drawn it so fast. He held it casually, but for all that, it was no less threatening.
"Surely, considering the circumstances, we can negotiate something," Baron Arald's voice carried distantly in protest, but he was stopped by Phillip's upraised hand.
"I know the circumstances are complicated, but the law is still the law. Baron Douglass may have been a traitor, but his previous rulings still stand. Especially since the Battlemaster's son is a condemned criminal who caused great harm to the people of this fief." It was clear that the majority of Douglass's senior staff agreed. "I'm afraid he must be arrested," Phillip waved his hand.
Sir Richard needed no further urging, eyes blazing with a righteous hatred, he moved forwards, his men flanking him with upraised swords as well. Gilan matched their movements, as he raised his own sword, turning it towards Sir Richard, momentarily halting the old knight's advance. The two faced each other wordlessly for a moment, wary. Gilan's eyes narrowed, the barest trace of a snarl curling his lips, even as his heart hammered in his chest. He was not about to allow himself to fall back into the hands of these soldiers, was not about to allow the past to repeat itself—at least not without a fight this time.
Sir Richard took another half pace forward and this time Gilan did not give ground in response. Despite it all, Gilan found that a small vicious corner of himself almost wanted Sir Richard to make the first move and attack. He was under no illusions, he knew it was unlikely he'd be able to fight his way out of this alive if it came to that—not when he was up against so many, most of whom he didn't have much desire to harm, much less kill. But if Richard did break the impasse to attack, then at least Gilan could take the knight with him as he went down. He owed the man at least that much.
But before the awful tableau could go any further, Sir David stepped in front of his son, between him and the soldiers, his determined stance and bearing making him seem an implacable wall.
"You're not taking him anywhere," he said simply, shortly. Though he didn't say it loudly the command in his voice was chilling to hear. "Stand down." He ordered his men.
"With respect, Sir, you cannot protect him. You know what he's done, you know how many people he's hurt," Sir Richard snarled, not lowering his sword.
Sir David straightened, and though he did not draw his own weapon he didn't budge either.
"No."
"Don't make this difficult, Sir David. You know this must be done—" the Seneschal started to protest as he took in the situation but was cut off by his Battlemaster before he had the chance to finish.
"This man came back to this fief despite the consequences and threat to himself to warn us of the attack. His plan and guidance through the forest helped bring us victory. He risked everything to keep us from falling into the hands of Morgarath. I will not see him come to harm for it."
As he said it, Will and Horace finally broke free from the press of soldiers and knights around them that had cut them off from Gilan and moved instantly to stand by David. Horace drew his sword and Will drew his bow. Though they were young, the determination in their eyes and ready stances warned the soldiers off further.
"Not a step farther," Will said, arrow aimed directly at Sir Richard's chest. "I won't let you do this."
Only a few moments after Horace and Will had made their stand, they were followed quickly by Evanlyn and then Alyss who drew their sling and dagger respectively.
"The law is the law, Sir David," The Seneschal was saying, haplessly, "we can't make exceptions."
"Have you ever stopped to consider that without this man's help you wouldn't even be standing there to make such a statement?" Arald asked, stepping forwards in his own turn to stand by David, Sir Rodney following.
Gilan stood stunned, eyes wide with startled surprise, sword point lowering slightly in his grasp. He stared almost disbelieving at his father's back, then at Will and Horace, the two girls, and Arald and Rodney. For most of his life in this timeline, bitter experience had taught him that when things got hard, uncomfortable, or threatening, that would be the moment that people would usually turn, focus solely on themselves and their own needs and survival. This was the first time, in this time, that he could remember his father, remember so many risking themselves to try to help him, keep him from coming to harm. In that moment, it all suddenly seemed too much. As he stared at his father and his friends, something hard in his chest seemed to shatter. He felt his vision blurring slightly as something wet gathered in his eyes.
He wiped at his face with his free hand, dimly aware of David and Arald's knights moving to join their commanders. Though David's men were aware of the past crime he'd been convicted of, they also had had firsthand experience working side by side with him to stop Morgarath and the Skandians. That likely made it easier for them to trust their Battlemaster's judgment more readily than those who had stayed at the castle. But it wasn't over yet.
"I can't turn a blind eye to the law!" Phillip insisted, frustration edging his words as he stepped forward angrily. "You all know this! These are the same laws that all of you claim to uphold and defend, that you have all fought and spilled blood over! You—"
They were all interrupted by the door to the receiving hall opening suddenly. Several heads turned in that direction to see Halt stepping through them followed by Crowley. Behind them was an older man, a younger man, and the Captain of the Village Watch. The grizzled former Ranger took in the scene and situation at a glance and nodded to himself.
"I thought Douglass might try something like this," he said flatly then turned to Phillip. "What if I can prove that he was innocent of the crime that he was sentenced for in the first place?"
A surprised silence seemed to grip everyone present in the room, including the Seneschal, as none of them had expected to hear that.
In the moment that everyone was distracted by Halt's unexpected entry, Gilan realized that he had the chance to escape, to run again, Horace and Will too, if they would come with him after everything.
But then Gilan's caught Halt's eye, his dark gaze steady, implacable. His mentor nodded once reassuringly, almost imperceptibly, as if he had read Gilan's thoughts. Despite himself, Gilan felt some of the tension ease from his frame. He nodded back. If there was anyone he'd trusted in that other time, it was Halt. He found that the same held true now.
Phillip's eyes darted between Halt, Crowley, and the three men they had brought before turning to the veritable standoff at the other end of the hall, his mind whirling. He wasn't a cruel man, and he had nothing against Gilan personally. If this small grim bearded man and the other Ranger could prove Gilan's innocence then he saw no reason to prevent them from doing so. It could well bring an end to this whole uncomfortable situation.
"You may proceed," he said eventually, nodding at Halt.
Halt inclined his head. "I'm sure that you," he addressed Phillip, "and most everyone here already knows of the case and knows that it was all the witness testimony that turned the court in favor of Rubin, the merchant's, claim against Sir David's son."
The Seneschal nodded once. "Yes, I recall the details of the incident and the trial in question, as well as the witnesses that gave testimony that day."
"I have proof that those witness testimonies were false, made by citizens who, through blackmail, bribery, or other means of coercion, were made to take Rubin's side in court."
"Namely Marlow Stowe, owner of the Swan Tavern and Dan Culver one of the boys who claimed to be present that night, Sir," Crowley finished for Halt, gesturing the two men forward, before gesturing to the other man beside him. "I also brought the Captain of the Watch who has information on this matter and on Rubin, the merchant in question." Crowley urged the old tavern-keeper forward.
Marlow Stowe looked back at Halt, blanched, and reluctantly stepped forward, awkwardly removing his cap and bowing. Neither gesture hid the faint tremble that had overtaken him. For a long moment, he said nothing, then Phillip gestured for him to speak.
Marlow nervously licked his lips, opened his mouth to speak, faltered, and then tried again. "I lied," he said finally. "A-at the trial. The knight apprentice were found guilty, most on account of my word, but my word weren't honest. I told the Baron that I'd seen the boy at my tavern that night, that I sold him enough to get drunk on. But truth were that I'd never seen him that night, let alone sold him drink. I were in a great deal of debt to Rubin and he'd come before the trial and threatened to demand all at once unless I testified for him." He twisted his cap uncomfortably in his hands. "I know it were wrong, but then I was more afeared of what Rubin would do if I refused him." He hung his head and took a step back.
Murmurs filled the hall at that revelation, though they silenced again as the younger man stepped forward in his turn and bowed respectfully to Phillip.
"I need to confess a lie too. My name is Dan Culver and I was also one of the witnesses that day. I said that I was with the knight apprentice at the time of the fire, that I and two other boys were there when he drunkenly set fire to the merchant's home. I was sentenced with the two other boys to work in the fields for a month because of that. But the irony was that we weren't ever a part of that crime. None of us even saw or knew the apprentice knight before the trial. But I condemned myself and him because of my mother.
"See, she told me that Rubin threatened that something she'd once done would be made public if I didn't. That thing could've destroyed her and her reputation. And, because she was all I had, it would've destroyed both our lives and livelihood. We would have been left with nothing. I just assumed the others confessed for the same reason. Don't know if it was for blackmail or bribery or both. None of us spoke of it again after that. But Rubin isn't around anymore to buy or threaten our words or silence.
"I'd always hated myself for what I'd done. But maybe this is the best way I can start to make up for it all." He turned away from the Seneschal unexpectedly to face Gilan. "The Ranger told me how you helped save this fief and all of us from Morgarath. I owe you my thanks as much as I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for what I've done. I'd take it back if I could."
All Gilan could do was blink at him. Needless to say, an apology wasn't something that he'd ever expected he had ever expected to hear from anyone involved in that situation. Caught off guard, it left him at a momentary loss as to how to respond. But, before he could puzzle through it, Halt spoke again, keeping the momentum with him.
"Without those two key witness statements, there isn't enough evidence to prove it was Gilan at fault, let alone convict him."
"I recall that there was still the merchant's testimony," Phillip put in.
"With respect, sir," the Captain of the Watch put in as he stepped forwards. "He wouldn't have been the most honest or reliable of witnesses—quite apart from the potential blackmail and coercion. It wasn't too long after the boy's trial that Rubin was involved in one of his own. I'd always suspected him of blackmail and making money illegally, but I was unable to get proof and people were too scared to speak out against him. It wasn't until a lucky turn of fortune that I managed to get my hands on documents that proved his involvement in tax fraud and extortion and was able to bring a case against him. He was sent to the capital for trial since tax fraud was a crime against the King where he later died in prison. The village was a much safer and happier place in his absence. You can ask anyone in the village, and I'm certain you could even get more people to testify to blackmail—especially if they had a guarantee they wouldn't be punished for it."
Philip nodded thoughtfully then. "But if neither the Battlemanster's son nor the village boys were involved, how did the fire start?"
"My guess would be the Rubin himself, sir. He was known for losing his inhibitions when he drank and he was very fond of drink besides."
Marlow Stowe stepped hesitantly forward to stand level with the captain of the watch. "Sir... um, my lord," he addressed Phillip awkwardly. "I didn't sell the Battlemaster's son drink that night, but I did sell Rubin a good deal: gave him a bottle of my finest wine I'd been saving from Toscana, and others besides… if it helps."
It did. Murmuring again overtook the hall before Phillip raised a hand to silence it. "That clears up the bit about the arson and manslaughter, casts substantial doubt on his involvement in that, but not the charge of theft. When he was arrested for the crime, on his way back to the castle, he was found in possession of a horse that had been stolen days previously."
Halt faltered momentarily but could not find a rebuttal to that accusation. He glared slightly helplessly at Gilan, a glare that clearly conveyed his opinion of Gilan's ability to get himself into trouble—and to go about it at one hundred percent at that... Gilan caught the look and shrugged slightly, offering Halt a non-repentant—if not slightly worried—smile. That was the one aspect of the trial that Gilan knew they could not defend. They were beginning to lose their position and Halt was momentarily lost for words to avoid it. Gilan saw Halt exchange a quick look with Crowley.
Horace, however, stepped forwards. "Yes, it does."
Eyes all across the room turned to regard the young swordsman. Horace was aware of this and reddened slightly but didn't step back. Halt made a subtle gesture for him to stop. The last thing they needed was for Horace to say, by accident, something clumsy that might cause them to lose their position any further than they already had. But Horace either ignored the gesture or didn't see it. He continued on determinately.
"You said that when he was arrested, he was heading with the horse back to the castle."
When the Seneschal nodded, Horace continued, "But the horse wasn't reported missing that night, it was reported missing days before, you said. For all you know, Gilan could just have found it and was returning it. There's no way to prove that he was the one who stole it in the first place."
Silence greeted Horace's simple but effective logic as the majority present, including the Seneschal saw the sense in what he'd said. But then the Seneschal's eyes narrowed slightly as he thought of something.
"If he was just returning it, then why didn't he just inform the officers he knew where it was—why return it in the night?"
That was when Halt stepped in again, that was something he could give an answer to. "Maybe it's because he was afraid he'd get the blame for stealing it. You lot weren't the most understating people. And you certainly weren't the type of people to be bothered about finding evidence or the actual truth, were you? Judging by what we've just heard now from Dan Culver and Marlow Stowe," Halt said mildly.
The Seneschal had the grace to redden at that.
"Since you can't prove he stole the horse and we can prove that he didn't start the fire, I'd say the grounds for his banishment and so his arrest and execution now are fairly non-existent," Crowley said coolly.
"He still broke curfew and was absent without leave," Phillip pointed out a little helplessly, knowing that, as comebacks went that was a pretty lame one.
"And the punishment he got was suitable for those minor crimes, was it?" Halt asked then.
The Seneschal deflated completely. It was clear that he'd already lost the support of the other members of the senior staff and the argument. They were right. And then he wondered why he was even still arguing the point; he bore the young warrior no ill-will or feelings.
"I agree, in light of everything brought forward today, that there is not enough evidence for me to carry out Douglass's ruling in good conscience—at least not until such time as retrial can be held."
"You cannot just let it go like that! You can't just believe all this!" Sir Richard exploded as he saw Phillip beginning to waver. "That boy is a murderer, a monster. This matter has long since been settled. You can't just allow people to suddenly change their stories! Why can you not see how they are lying now?"
Before the Seneschal or anyone could say anything further they were all once more interrupted as the door opened again and a page ran in, his expression flustered. He saw what was going on in the room and bowed apologetically. "I'm sorry for the interruption my lord, um Sir, he corrected as he looked to Phillip, but I have an urgent message from your Pigeon handler."
Phillip gestured him forward before turning to Richard. "If it has been a lie, it will come out during a retrial," Phillip agreed, "Which we are in no position to do at the moment: we haven't the time nor the resources. After the business with Morgarath and the breach of our borders is truly settled, I will send out official summons to all concerned parties for a retrial. But, as for now, we are in the middle of repelling an invasion which takes precedence." he said.
By then the page had reached him and Phillip stretched out his hand to take the letter. He scanned it quickly before rising to his feet and turning to his Battlemaster, Crowley, and Baron Arald.
"This message is from Lady Pauline. She alerted King Duncan of what went on here with Morgarath's invasion as soon as we had the information. The King has rallied the Barons and mobilized the army. His majesty and a large portion of his forces should be here by nightfall. We must prepare for their arrival, and for the likely countermoves, King Duncan will want to make against Morgarath's army. This meeting of court is therefore dismissed."
"What about the mercenary?" Sir Richard pressed.
"Stand down and let him go; I withdraw the order for his arrest," Phillip ordered.
"But—" Sir Richard started to protest.
"That is my final word on the matter," Phillip cut him short.
"Yes, sir," Richard saluted, subdued stepping back, but his expression showed that he was by no means happy about this turn of events. The majority of the soldiers behind him had long since re-sheathed their weapons and stood down. At that command, they withdrew and so Richard was left with no choice but to do the same—albeit with an air of reluctance.
The joyous, raucous, exclamations torn from the throats of the many people happy that the mercenary had escaped the justice he deserved only made a sick fury pool in his stomach. In that moment, he deemed them all hopeless fools. The old knight had absolutely no confidence in the integrity of any retrial. Judging by what he'd seen now, he knew that the Battlemaster's son would likely get away with it all now that he had made powerful friends to manipulate to his own ends. He knew that Phillip was right in deeming Morgarath was the bigger threat to the country at the moment. He needed to be handled immediately. But as soon as that duty was fulfilled, he swore to himself that he would find a way to get justice, to do what was right. He remembered the events as they had happened, had watched the trial, seen what the boy had been like. He trusted his judgment and would never be corrupted by the lies of people who didn't know better or who were too weak to avoid manipulation and threats. He would have his justice eventually, this he vowed silently as he made his retreat.
Sir David, for his part, stared, frozen, mind reeling as soon as the order for his son's arrest had finally been withdrawn. He felt numb, almost faint. The feeling had started the moment the former Ranger had insisted he could prove Gilan's innocence and had only grown with every testimony spoken, with every lie retracted.
He watched in a partial daze as the two boys embraced his son happily at the news, all the tension gone from their bearings. For a moment, Gilan looked completely shocked and off-balance at this turn of events—as if he couldn't even take in, let alone believe what had happened. Nevertheless, he embraced the two boys back, mouth moving in words of thanks and apologies to them, eyes moist and expression bright with emotion. David watched as Arald put a friendly hand on Gilan's shoulder, as Rodney nodded, as Crowley moved forward to clasp arms, and finally as the grim-bearded former Ranger embraced his former apprentice warmly. Gilan looked more at ease, more genuinely happy in Halt's company, at that moment, than David could recall seeing. But, then again, it wasn't as if it was surprising or unfounded. David couldn't stop the dark whisper taking hold in his mind that recognized that Halt had proved to be a better mentor, and those two boys a better family than he had been. He had made an irreparable mistake.
David had spent all this time content in the knowledge that he had been taking the high ground, that he had been the one willing to be big enough to reach out and start again despite those past wrongs and mistakes, to offer a second chance despite the betrayal… Only to find out now that the betrayal had never been against him, that there really had been no wrongs done that he'd needed to move past. That everything he'd thought he'd known had been flipped on its ear. His son had been innocent all along. Horror, regret, and guilt made themselves a home in his thoughts and in the pit of his stomach as he finally understood, understood everything—understood Gilan's anger and mistrust, the full extent of the bad blood between them and the reason behind it. The implications were sickening.
All he could do was feel hallowed out and nauseous as those present were called to order by the Seneschal. Commands were given and the room cleared as people moved to make preparations for the King's arrival. Yet, still, David found he couldn't move, hadn't even properly taken in the words Phillip had spoken.
Then Gilan met his eye across the room. He tilted his head in a subtle motion towards the direction of the empty hallway. David couldn't read his expression; it was neutral, almost carefully blank. Nevertheless, he found himself nodding in response to the silent request. Somehow, he got himself moving in that direction, was distantly aware of Gilan excusing himself from the two Rangers, the Baron, and the four youths to follow after.
It wasn't long until they were both standing in the empty hall facing each other. David searched Gilan's face looking for any indication as to the lay of things. However, the anger or righteous condemnation he had expected, felt he deserved, to see wasn't there. His son's expression was still carefully neutral for a moment before it broke, softening into something else. There was a tense silence for a moment before David found his words.
"What is it?" David asked then. He started to reach a hand out towards him before he thought better of it. He hesitated and then let it drop.
Gilan looked down for a moment. "It's just…" he seemed unable to speak further and so he didn't even try. Instead, he moved forward and embraced his father. "Thank you," he said finally. "Thank you for what you did back there."
David was taken completely by surprise at first but quickly returned the embrace. Once the surprise wore off, he found himself smiling tentatively, hopefully. But just as quickly the smile died as troubling thoughts came to mind… thoughts and the worst of regrets. By all rights, Gilan shouldn't be thanking him for doing exactly what he'd failed to all those years ago. He gripped his son gently by the shoulders, holding him at arm's length.
"Gilan," he hesitated, trying to find the right words to say. But then he realized that there were no right words. And there was no easy way to say it. "I'm sorry," he said finally, looking down, "sorry for everything."
David fixed his eyes on the ground, waiting. But Gilan didn't say anything, he didn't even move.
"Are you… saying you believe me?" he asked finally, his words quiet, tight.
David nodded once, not looking up. "I know there's nothing that I can do or say to make it up or make it right, and I understand if you can't forgive me, but I am sorry."
Again he was greeted with silence, this time longer than before. Finally, David could bear the quiet no longer and looked up to meet his son's eyes. Gilan was staring curiously at him. For the brief flash of a moment that same almost disbelieving look was bared in his expression before it again settled back into its previous unreadability.
"That's it?" he asked then, raising an eyebrow.
David had no idea what to say to that, he let his arms drop, wondering if he'd said something wrong—tried to apologize too early. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. Then Gilan smiled at him, his eyes sparkling.
"I was hoping your apology might come with something more—like a plum tart or a new sword," he said airily.
David realized Gilan had been pulling his leg and he felt his eyebrows draw downwards in confusion.
"Gilan," he began, frustrated. Only he would treat earnest moments that were meant to be solemn and sincere so cavalierly. But as he met his son's eyes, he suddenly understood. David shook his head, smiling despite himself as he belatedly recognized the olive branch that had been offered for what it was: a wordless but sincere invitation for them to start over, try again. "If I manage to get the cook to make you a plum tart, will that suffice?" he asked.
"It just might," Gilan said, and then became more serious.
He nodded once then in genuine acceptance of David's apology. Maybe he hadn't actually voiced that he'd forgiven him, maybe he wouldn't ever—but, again, it was a start. David found himself feeling lighter, happier, than he had in a long while. It wasn't as if their fractured relationship was going to mend instantly, he knew that, but David hoped, and he knew it wasn't a baseless hope this time.
"Let's see about that tart," he announced suddenly, striding for the door. "I'm starving."
"What makes you think I'm going to share it?" Gilan asked with a grin as he trotted to catch up to his father.
"Something tells me that with those apprentices of yours, you might not get a choice in the matter—myself notwithstanding."
"I suppose I owe them, after all of this," Gilan agreed.
~x~X~x~
That evening, shortly after his arrival, King Duncan called a war council to decide what was to be done. Though Araluen's sovereign seemed more world-worn and weary, though more grey adorned his temples than had in the other time, his eyes had shown him to be the same sort of man he had been before—the type of King that was a man worth following. He still had the same measured presence as always. But it had been the loving way he had embraced his daughter the moment they were reunited, the joy and relief on both of their faces nearly palpable, that had convinced Halt that circumstance and war had not changed the core of the man he'd once known and served. That had allayed a quiet apprehension that had still lingered in Halt's mind, gave him a measure of hope that things might truly be fixable, or as close to as possible.
Crowley had delivered a detailed accounting of the events that had taken place in Highcliff and Halt watched as Sir David rose as soon as the Ranger was finished.
"Reports from the border show that Morgarath's men have not yet been able to regroup and rally, you Majesty," Highcliff's Battlemaster announced to the King and the Barons that had accompanied him. "My recommendation is to take the majority of our forces there and press the advance: attack Morgarath's reserve forces before they have the chance to regroup, rally, or entrench themselves."
"There is a chance," Arald mused, "that if we move swiftly enough, we might be able to drive them back and advance across Morgarath's lands, use this as an opportunity to reclaim some of the fiefs. Morgarath neither knows, nor expects for word of his incursion to have made it to you so quickly, nor that you would have been able to rally the majority of your standing army and march them here in response."
Arald had always had a good head for battle and the ability to read the turn in a tide of conflict so the advantage could be pressed, Halt knew. And it was clear he saw one such opportunity now. Murmurs of agreement followed the former Baron's words. For so many years, the two armies had been at a stalemate, unable to press any advantage against the other. But now there was the opportunity to change that. They all knew that had Morgarth's plan come to fruition it would likely be the traitor Warlord making a concerted press across the King's lands, with them hard-pressed to repel him. Now they had the chance to turn the tables and the majority of those present, sick of years of endless fighting wanted to take it, to have the chance to end things once and for all.
"Might I suggest an addition to that plan?" Halt interjected. "It seems to me that Morgarath committed a lot to this attack, manpower included. Therefore, I doubt that the fiefs and castles therein are currently supporting full garrisons. What I'm suggesting is a two-pronged attack. That your Majesty and the majority of your forces proceeded across Highcliff's borders as stated, but to also send another force east of here to retake Redmont and continue the press south once it is reclaimed. If the pincer attack is successful, then both armies can meet on the Plains of Uthal. And drive Morgarath and his forces back to the Mountains of Rain and Night. And, if our press is not successful, then you can at least add Redmont Castle back into control. Having it in our possession could help turn the tide of war in your favor."
A/N: Thanks so much for reading. Feedback means the world if you have the time or inclination to leave any. Again, I do apologize for the massive delay in my writing. I also apologize if the quality of my writing seems less. I don't know if it's me, but I have been hating everything I've been writing lately so I apologize if it seems substandard. If you see any way for me to improve, I'd be happy for the pointers. I hope to get back into the swing of things soon. I really hope to be able to finish this well. Thanks again!
This chapter was partially inspired by Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace:
"No time for goodbye", he said
As he faded away
"Don't put your life in someone's hands
They're bound to steal it away
Don't hide your mistakes
'Cause they'll find you, burn you", then he said
If you wanna get out alive
Oh, run for your life."
Best wishes to you all until next time.