Birth and Re-Death
Chapter 49: Halidom v. Belmont, Part 1: My Date with the Khan
"We begin with opening statements," Maribelle says. "Prosecution, you may proceed."
Danica stands and steps in front of the judge's bench. "May it please the court. This case is complicated, and much detail has been obfuscated and hidden away. The defendant, Randall Belmont, is a particular source of uncertainty. His origins and motivations have been a mystery since the day he joined the Shepherds. In the midst of all this lack of clarity, he has still managed to be at the center of numerous events that have directly harmed the Ylisse-Ferox alliance.
"The evidence will show that not only has he been present at these events, but has played a direct hand in them. Eyewitness testimony places him in the midst of the radical anti-government group known as the Patriots, not as a prisoner, but as an active member. On two occasions, this active membership involved a direct attack on Ylissean interests. Several months ago, this resulted in the wholesale slaughter of 74 Feroxi soldiers stationed protecting the townsfolk in Southtown, south of the capital. Witness testimony places a man with a mask and a long blue coat at the scene of the battle. After the battle, this man gave a speech to calm the townsfolk down.
"This man in the mask and coat is well known throughout southern Ylisse as Thomas Paine. While this is presumed to be a moniker and not a real person's name, this Thomas Paine has acted as the apparent leader of the Patriots. Whenever the Patriots would take over a town or village, Thomas Paine would appear shortly afterward and speak to the local population, attempting to win them over with promises of a life of freedom from tyranny.
"Then, on the first of March, peace negotiations between the Ylissean and Plegian military leadership were interrupted when a man in a mask and long blue coat entered the negotiation room and, without warning, murdered Commander Phila, head of the Exalt's royal guard, as well as Plegian general Campari Leone. This mask and coat were identical to the ones identified as belonging to Thomas Paine. That man fled before he could be apprehended by the survivors.
"Several days later, during a battle between the Ylissean and Plegian armies, a man appeared wearing the same long blue coat. That man was Randall Belmont. At that time, Mr. Belmont was arrested on suspicion of being the man known as Thomas Paine, the leader of the Patriots. The evidence in this trial will show that there is more than ample cause to believe that Randall Belmont is Thomas Paine, and that as Thomas Paine, he oversaw the slaughter of Feroxi soldiers in Southtown and personally committed the assassinations of General Leone and Commander Phila. Thus, Randall Belmont has demonstrated that he is a traitor to Ylisse, and should be convicted and sentenced accordingly. Thank you." When she is finished, Danica returns to her seat.
Maribelle takes notes for a moment, then looks at Robin. "You may proceed when ready, Robin."
Robin stands up and stands where Danica did. Her voice is shaky as she begins, "May it please the court. Randall Belmont is without doubt an unusual man. However, he has never hidden this about himself. He has admitted from the very beginning that he is a foreigner, a stranger in this land. Despite this, he decided of his own will to join the Shepherds because he was disgusted by the actions of the Plegian bandits who attacked the people of Southtown last year, and he was impressed by the noble actions of the Shepherds who stopped them. Since that time, he has worked tirelessly to better himself and be a more effective member of the Shepherds. His path has had obstacles and shortfalls, but he has persevered nonetheless.
"His involvement with the Patriots begins with a kidnapping. In an ambush battle at the estate of the Anchorage family in November of last year, Randall fought one-on-one against Gangrel, the former king of Plegia. He was defeated, but Gangrel decided not to kill him. Instead, he instructed a wyvern rider captain by the name of Vasto to transport Randall to Golgotha to be held prisoner. Unbeknownst to Gangrel, however, Vasto was a high-ranking member of the Patriots, and instead of taking him to Golgotha, he took Randall by force to the Osprey family villa in western Ylisse to be pressed into service as a healer for the Patriots.
"There, Randall was given a choice that was not really a choice: work for the Patriots, or starve to death in a cell. As a result, Randall agreed to work as a healer for the Patriots on the strict condition that no harm ever come to the Shepherds or their allies.
"As an unwitting member of the Patriots, Randall gained influence within the group, which he used to deliberately push the Patriots into fighting only Plegian military targets and never make any moves against the Ylisse-Feroxi alliance. This went awry, as Ms. Miller indicated, when the Patriots and Feroxi soldiers did battle at Southtown. However, Ms. Miller has skipped important details. The evidence will show that the Feroxi soldiers stationed in Southtown were, at the time of the Patriots' attack, dressed in Plegian military garb in an attempt to fool Plegian soldiers traveling between towns. Therefore, the Patriots believed they were attacking a Plegian military installation, not a Feroxi one. The evidence will further show that Randall tried to prevent this fight altogether, but the actions of the Feroxi captain, Regulus, kept Randall from being able to stop the fight.
"The evidence will further show that Randall was nowhere near the peace negotiations on March first. You will hear from two gate guards who will each testify that they saw Randall approach Ylisstol on foot from the south and request entry to the city. They will further testify that he was denied entry because the Shepherds had already gone west to engage in peace talks with the Plegian military leadership, and the city gates were closed down until the Shepherds' return. On foot, Randall would not have been able to reach the Osprey villa in time to be the one who sabotaged the negotiations.
"The Patriots are real. The man who sabotaged the negotiations is real. There are traitors and saboteurs out there to be apprehended. But Randall Belmont is not one of them. He is not guilty of the crimes with which he has been charged. Thank you." Robin returns to her seat. Her hands tremble as she takes a few deep breaths to calm down. Remembering her gesture of kindness when I was in the same state the other day, I take her hand and give it a soft squeeze. She gives me a weak smile in response.
"You were great," I reassure her.
"Thanks," she whispers.
Maribelle looks up from her notes. "Very well. We will begin with the testimony of the witnesses that the court has set aside as being at the court's pleasure. These witnesses do not appear on behalf of the halidom, nor on behalf of the defendant. Because both parties have expressed an interest in calling these witnesses for their side, the court has ruled that the witnesses will instead appear on behalf of both sides. The examinations shall work under the following rules: the overall questioning will be conducted by me. During the course of that questioning, if either party wishes to add questions of their own to supplement a topic or introduce a topic the court has missed, they may stand and do so. However, the court reserves the right to overrule a question if it is irrelevant to the matter at hand. You may also object to the other party's question if you have legitimate grounds to do so. Are these rules understood?"
"Yes," Robin says. Thankfully this is all old news to us.
"Yes, Your Honor," Danica says.
"Very good. Of course, I will have many questions for Mr. Belmont in due course, but I would prefer to hear from his comrades in the Shepherds and the khans first." She clears her throat. "Would Chrom, prince and acting-Exalt of the halidom, please take the stand?"
Judge Maribelle's fiancé is about to testify to her about the actions of her ex-boyfriend. In the court system I knew there are like three reasons this would not be allowed in court. Medieval justice systems, man.
"Acting-Exalt, please raise your right hand." Chrom does so. "Do you swear, in the sight of the divine dragon Naga, and on pain of penalty of perjury, to tell the truth in all matters while you are testifying?"
"I do so swear," Chrom says. I wonder if a perjury charge would be allowed to hold up against the literal Exalt. I like to hope he's not allowed to just lie, but it's hard to say.
"Very good. Acting-Exalt, you are one of the first Shepherds that met Randall, is that correct?" Maribelle asks.
"That is. Earlier that day, June first I believe it was, or around that time, Sir Frederick, my sister Lissa, and I were patrolling the southern countryside. We happened across an unconscious woman lying in the middle of a field. That woman is Robin, the counsel for Randall today. When she woke up, she was confused and without any memory of who she was or what she had been doing. That amnesia proved mostly permanent outside of remembering her name. We decided to take her into Southtown, the nearest town, but we found the place under attack by bandits.
"The four of us went into the town. Robin surprised us with her competence both as a swordswoman and a mage, and the four of us started to fight the bandits off. We were surprised when one of the people in town joined us in the fight. That was Randall. He had a priest's robe on and carried a healing staff, so we assumed he was a priest of some kind. He helped keep us healed as we drove the rest of the enemy away. After the battle, he introduced himself and asked if he could join us. He told us he wasn't a priest, but had been raised in a monastery in Valm. I'd seen his skill and his willingness to help, so he became the newest member of the Shepherds."
Danica stands. Maribelle nods in recognition of her desire to speak. "Did anything seem strange about Randall at the time to you?"
"Oh, plenty, yes," Chrom says, a touch of guilt in his tone as he goes on. "He was dressed as a priest but didn't seem to practice any religion we were familiar with. In fact, he denied being a priest at all. He had a healing staff but, aside from some beginner's luck, had no idea how to use it. He had apparently traveled across most of the continent to end up in Southtown, only to be almost entirely unfamiliar with the halidom at the time we met him. The strangest thing about him, though, was also the best thing about him: despite being a stranger and a foreigner, he was willing to risk his life for others. He jumped at the chance to join a group dedicated to protecting our people."
"Did you trust Randall?" Danica asks.
"I had no reason to distrust his intentions. Some people prefer not to talk about their past. I've met plenty in my travels with secrets they would rather keep. I wasn't totally convinced by the story he gave us about his origins, but I decided it was immaterial. The important thing was that he was a good man who would fight for others."
"Did Randall keep a lot of secrets?"
"Objection!" Robin calls out, standing up. "The question calls for speculation on Chrom's part. He clearly can't know if Randall is keeping secrets, because if they're secret, Chrom can't know about them."
Maribelle looks expectantly at Danica for a response.
"W-well, maybe he's aware of the existence of a secret without knowing what it is," Danica stammers.
Maribelle considers for a moment. "I'll allow the question, but modified. Chrom, to your knowledge, does Randall have secrets that he actively keeps from you?"
Chrom considers for a moment. "Yes. There was one occasion where he informed me that he was keeping secrets, not just from me, but from everyone."
"What was the nature of the conversation?" Maribelle asks.
"This was when the Shepherds were returning to Ylisse from a battle in Golgotha. We were planning a path from Regna Ferox to Ylisstol, and we were trying to decide which point on the way would serve as the best safe place to resupply. Among the choices on the shortlist was the home of Lord Aventine Ferrieder, member of the Ylissean Royal Council. Randall told me that it was imperative that we not make Lord Aventine's home our resupply point. When I asked why, he said it was because he was positive that Lord Aventine had been the person who, months earlier, had betrayed the Exalt by revealing the existence of the eastern palace. That was where we intended to take the Exalt after assassins had attacked her here in Ylisstol. I asked why Randall was so sure that Lord Aventine was the traitor. He said that he could not give me an answer, and that I had to trust him. The reason had to be kept a secret because there are some things that would be unsafe to tell me."
"He didn't explain why it would be unsafe to tell you his reasoning?" Maribelle asks.
"No. He just said there was a scope of information that he had that no one else could safely know. But he also swore that he would never use the information he had to harm anyone aligned with the Shepherds."
"Were you ever able to confirm the identity of the person who betrayed the location of the eastern palace to the Plegians?"
Chrom shakes his head. "No. And to this day, Lord Aventine remains missing. We have been unable to corroborate Randall's story."
Danica stands again. "Has there been any other time at which you doubted Randall's loyalty to the halidom?"
Chrom looks at Maribelle for a moment, as if to ask if he really must answer. She nods solemnly. He looks at the ground in front of him as he speaks. "There was a time when I, mistakenly, assumed he had leaked our plans to the Plegian army. In the end, it turned out that it was a communication from another Shepherd, Virion, to his home in Valm that was intercepted. Randall had nothing to do with leaking our plans to anyone."
"Did you ever obtain proof that this Virion's communication had definitely been intercepted?" Danica asks.
Chrom is silent for a long, painful moment. "If any such proof existed, I never saw it. But he told us what details he had included in his message, and if that message was in fact captured by the enemy, it would have led them to exactly where they ended up being."
This line of questioning is so frustrating to hear. All this stuff is on some level or other relevant, but it feels like it's being drawn out almost haphazardly. Facts and feelings are being pulled out of context and presented in a vacuum. But on the other hand, it's not like Maribelle, or any of the Shepherds in the gallery for that matter, need to be reminded that I fought alongside them during all this time. All of this makes me antsy.
"Acting-Exalt," Maribelle says, "I have one more topic I wish to cover. You were there at the negotiations at the time that the assassin came and sabotaged the peace negotiations between the Shepherds and Gangrel. Can you tell me about what happened?"
"Of course. We received a letter by wyvern carrier from Gangrel in February, after we had driven the Plegian army out of Ylisstol. The letter said that Gangrel wanted to negotiate for peace on the first of March at the Osprey family villa. We were, for obvious reasons, skeptical, but in the end we decided to at least go to the negotiations, prepared to fight back if it turned out to be a trap.
"As you are aware, the negotiations were contentious from the start. But near the end, it seemed like we might have almost made some headway. I even dared to hope we might be able to reach a sort of agreement. But then the door to the grand hall opened, and an unexpected intruder entered.
"He wore a long, dark blue coat, and a blank white mask. By this time, we had heard the rumors about the man known as Thomas Paine roaming the southern countryside dressed just like that. He told us he was disappointed that his 'faction' hadn't been invited to the negotiations. He also insinuated that he had either killed or incapacitated the Plegian guards standing outside to get into the room, though from what we learned later, those guards may have themselves been Patriots and just let him through. He was, we thought, unarmed. Khan Flavia demanded that he answer for the deaths of the soldiers at Southtown, but he ignored that.
"He was… strange. Erratic. Like he couldn't stand still. But then he pointed his hand directly at Robin, like this," Chrom raises a splayed palm in front of him, "and just went completely still for a few seconds. Only when I stepped between him and Robin did he seem to come back to his senses. He told us, 'I just wanted to make these negotiations interesting,' and then raised his hand to Commander Phila instead. Before we knew what he was even doing, a spike of dark magic shot out of the ground and impaled Phila through the head. It… killed her instantly. We didn't have time to move before he did the same thing to Campari Leone. It only took a few seconds for him to kill both of them.
"After that, as you can guess, things went insane. Gangrel and his accompanying lords were Rescued out of the building while we gave chase after Paine. As he turned to leave, I got a look at the back of his coat. There was no mistaking it; I've seen that coat of arms many times over the years: it was the Osprey family crest. Anyway, Khan Flavia was the closest to catching him, but then he turned a corner and suddenly disappeared. And I mean vanished into thin air. There wasn't even a flash of light like you normally see with a Rescue. And that was the last we ever saw of the man."
Danica stands up. "Acting-Exalt, to your knowledge, is Mr. Belmont a dark mage?"
Chrom nods. "Yes, though to my knowledge he only picked up the practice relatively recently. His first time using any dark magic was while we were in the desert, heading for the Battle of Golgotha."
"Are there many dark mages in the Shepherds?"
"To my knowledge, there are, or were, at least three. Randall, who was trained by both Tharja, a Plegian recruit to the Shepherds, and Libra, an Ylissean priest who has since died. From what I understand about magic, there could be more."
Maribelle continues her questioning. "What happened after Paine disappeared?"
"We had to fight off a group of men dressed as Plegians, but identifying themselves as Patriots. They were clearly there well before the negotiations, ready to respond when things turned violent."
"You weren't able to ascertain why they were there in the first place?" Maribelle asks.
"No. The Patriots who were there and weren't fast enough to get away were killed to the man," he says, glancing briefly at Flavia and Basilio in the gallery. "We didn't have a chance to question them."
Maribelle sighs. "I see. And then, when the Shepherds fought the Plegian army at the Border Pass for the second time, you believe you saw that same coat that Thomas Paine wore, yes?"
Chrom looks guiltily at me before going on. "Yes. I don't know why Randall had that coat. For all I know, there could be more than one. But his coat looked just like the one Paine wore."
Robin stands up. "And what of the mask? Any sign of that?"
"None at all," Chrom says instantly, clearly pleased to have a chance to testify in my favor. "Nor did he have any dark magic tomes or anything like that on him. He just had his healing staff."
"Just to be clear," Danica says, rising again. "This battle was several days after the negotiations, yes?"
"That's right."
"So it's not unreasonable to suppose Thomas Paine could have simply dumped his mask and any dark magic tomes he was carrying off somewhere else before joining you?"
Chrom looks ready to smack this kind-looking lady. "Yes," he says flatly.
"I have nothing further," Danica says, sitting down again.
Robin considers for a moment. "Chrom. What, to your knowledge, is the objective of the Patriots' movement?"
He collects his thoughts for a few seconds before answering. "The rumors aren't always consistent, but one constant is the notion that they want to remove the Exalted family from power by whatever means necessary."
"In the last ten months or so that Randall has been a Shepherd, have there been any occasions where, if he had wanted to, he could have killed you or one of your sisters?" Robin asks.
Chrom's face lights up again, understanding where she was going with this. "Oh, plenty! And on top of that, there have been situations where he has gone to extraordinary effort to save my life and my sisters' lives. It was Randall who saved Exalt Emmeryn when the Plegians sought to execute her. And when I was in a rage because I did not yet know she had survived, it was Randall who stepped in to stop the duel between me and General Mustafa Issachar. I can tell you with near certainty that I would have lost that fight. And of course, at the Border Pass, when Gangrel and I fought, Randall again was the one who arrived just in time to stop Gangrel from killing me. If Randall wanted me or my sisters dead, it could have happened by now many times over just by him doing nothing at all."
Robin has a satisfied smile on her face. "I have nothing further, Your Honor." She sits down, looking at me with a triumphant twinkle in her eye.
Maribelle writes notes for a bit longer, then looks at Chrom. "Acting-Exalt, thank you for taking the time to testify. You may step down."
Chrom nods and stands up, then returns to the gallery. He gives me a kind look as he passes.
Maribelle clears her throat. "Will Lissa, princess of the halidom, please take the stand?"
So begins the string of testimonies about the Shepherds' perception of me and the actions I've taken. For the most part, they corroborate what Chrom had to say about the events of the war. Through all their stories, a few consistent themes emerge.
One, that I am a strange and secretive person. No one knows where I came from, why I had such weird gaps in my knowledge, or what my ultimate goals are outside of 'help the Shepherds.' Overall, though, they assert that they were never worried about it, merely curious.
Two, that I have only ever had the Shepherds' interests at heart. A lot of them have stories to tell about times I have fought to keep the Shepherds safe. Lissa and Frederick's testimony about my efforts to save Emmeryn is particularly heartfelt.
And three, for those who were present at the negotiations, that Thomas Paine's coat and my coat matched, and that Paine definitely used dark magic to kill Phila and Campari. And despite their collective desire to do so, no one can confirm with certainty who exactly was or was not under the mask.
After the Shepherds have all been heard from, Maribelle sighs before saying, "Would Flavia, khan regent of Regna Ferox, please come to the stand to testify?"
"Yes," Flavia says, rising and walking with cold determination to the stand. She doesn't so much as glance at me as she walks by.
After she is sworn in, Maribelle begins her questioning. "Khan Flavia, your interactions with Randall have been rather limited, is that correct?"
"It is. He was just one of Chrom's guys to me, part of the crowd, when we first came into contact around the start of the war. The first time I had any reason to notice him was when we were planning our approach from Ferox into Ylisse. This was after we had saved the Exalt and our next major move was to retake Ylisstol."
"What made you notice him then?" Maribelle asks.
"He wanted to be let into the war room to plan our approach with us. However, around that time, our scouts had been reporting strange figures coming and going during the night around our encampments. We didn't know at the time that it was apparently our old buddy Virion writing to his pen-pal back across the ocean. So Basilio and I decided that the planning phase of our campaign was going to be limited to just us, Chrom, and Robin. Randall, who I guess had become an apprentice of Robin's in the realm of tactics, took umbrage with this. It wasn't particularly noteworthy at the time, but it did at least prompt me to learn the man's name."
Danica stands. "Did this become noteworthy later?"
"It did when later he ended up playing a part in the planning process anyway, influencing us to go to an estate where the Plegian army was situated to ambush us. And then he was airlifted to safety by a wyvern rider and taken where the consequences of the ambush could not reach him."
Robin almost stands, no doubt to protest the notion that I didn't suffer the consequences of the ambush, but decides against it.
"I see. And after Randall was taken by the Patriots, what was your next interaction with them?" Maribelle asks.
"Well, when we did finally reach Ylisstol, we began a horrid, interminable siege that lasted months. In order to keep everyone fed and supplied, we had to expand and take food supplies beyond what the Plegians were hoarding inside the city walls. One of our first major victories was in Southtown. Our soldiers managed to crush the Plegian soldiers there and retake the town. Their commanding officer was a longtime captain and trusted ally of the Feroxi army, a man by the name of Regulus."
"What ended up happening?" Maribelle asks.
"What happened was the Patriots swept into the town and slaughtered the Feroxi soldiers. Of the seventy-five that were sent out, only one returned. The rest were all cut down, even after they had tried to flee. It was a massacre."
If Robin didn't spring out of her chair right now, I would have. Thankfully she though the same thing I did. "Excuse me, but you were at Ylisstol with us at the time this allegedly occurred. How do you know this happened?"
"Because the sole survivor, Captain Regulus, gave a full report about what happened," Flavia replies with a glare. "He said Thomas Paine was there, fighting with the rest of them, and that he looked like he was enjoying every moment of the slaughter."
I get up as well, unable to control my frustration. Regulus clearly flatly lied to Flavia. "Your Honor, is this blatant hearsay going to stand?"
"What do you mean?" Maribelle asks.
"It's an out-of-court statement offered in testimony to prove the truth of the matter asserted. If Regulus said these things to her, we have no way to question him about it. When he said these things, I assume he wasn't bound by court oath, was he?"
"He was giving an after-action report, Belmont. My soldiers do not lie to me," Flavia says through gritted teeth, getting to her feet.
"Well this one did, congratulations," I fire back.
For the first time in either trial, I hear an actual bang of a gavel. "Order!" Maribelle shouts. "There will be order in my court! Sit down!" She points at all three of us. I comply immediately; Robin and Flavia take a second or two. "Mr. Belmont, I am fully aware of the implications here. Khan Flavia is testifying to the court what she heard from her soldier. It is possible this Captain Regulus lied, or was incorrect, or Khan Flavia is remembering what he told her incorrectly. I am already considering all of these possibilities. As you may know, we have been unable to locate the captain so he may offer his own testimony. Khan Flavia has sworn before Naga to tell the truth to the best of her ability. In the absence of the captain himself, this is the best alternative we have. Is that satisfactory to you?"
"...Yes," I say finally. It's very imperfect trial procedure, but it wouldn't do to piss Flavia off any more than we have to. This is really all about convincing her anyway. I already let things get too out of hand.
Flavia clears her throat. "As I was saying, Regulus told me that it was lucky the soldiers had managed to get the townsfolk out of harm's way, otherwise the Patriots would gladly have killed them too in the crossfire."
I stand up again. "Are you aware of the strategy Regulus was employing at the time of this battle?" I ask.
"What do you mean?" Flavia asks, eyes narrowed.
"I mean, are you aware that Regulus had all his soldiers dressed as Plegian soldiers, and when the Patriots arrived, they saw a large group of what appeared to be Plegian soldiers?"
Flavia is silent for a few seconds. "That was not included in his report, no. But even if that was the case–"
I decide to press while I have the momentum. "Are you also aware, khan, of what targets the Patriots had been exclusively hitting until the battle at Southtown?"
"No, I'm not," she says curtly.
"You weren't aware that the Patriots were only targeting Plegian soldiers through the entire war, with the solitary exception of your Feroxi soldiers, who were themselves dressed as Plegian soldiers?" I ask, trying with everything in me to keep the superior edge out of my tone.
"Why do you know all this anyway?" Flavia asks.
"Because I was actually there. Well, sort of. I was trapped in a basement by your pal Regulus for most of the fight. But we'll get there when it's my turn. I just want to know if you recognized the Patriots' pattern."
Danica stands. "Objection! How is Khan Flavia's pattern recognition relevant to the matter of whether Randall operated as Thomas Paine?"
"Because, obviously," Robin interjects, "if the Patriots only attacked the Feroxi because they mistakenly believed they were Plegian military, then it's possible the battle was not a planned slaughter, but a tragic misunderstanding."
"Alright, alright," Maribelle says, gesturing with a hand to calm both Danica and Robin down. "It is potentially relevant. Please answer, Khan Flavia."
"No, that did not occur to me," she says stiffly.
I take my seat, trying not to smile.
"So," Maribelle says, trying to get the questioning back on track, "you were also present at the ill-fated peace negotiations. Is there anything you saw that you wish to add to the existing body of testimony?"
"The Patriots were there. They had disguised themselves as Plegian soldiers. By the time Phila and the Plegian general were killed, they were already moving in to try and secure the room. What's more, they announced themselves outright. They said, 'We're not Plegians, we're Patriots!' As if that was going to make us want to kill them less. Maybe they thought it would be an effective intimidation tactic."
That's something I haven't heard before. That's actually a big deal, though Flavia doesn't seem to have put it together. If they thought identifying themselves as Patriots would protect them, doesn't that suggest they didn't know the guy who just sabotaged the negotiations appeared as the leader of the Patriots? This suggests that whoever the assassin was, he at least wasn't acting with the Patriots left at the villa. They were innocent after all.
"Khan Flavia," I say, rising again. "Do you know for sure that the Patriots and the assassin were working together?"
"What kind of foolish question is that? Was Thomas Paine, the leader of the Patriots, working with the people he leads, the Patriots?" she asks incredulously.
"How can you know that was the same Thomas Paine as the one your soldiers encountered in Southtown?" I ask. "Doesn't he wear a mask?"
"Objection!" Danica calls, standing up. "He's asking Khan Flavia to speculate well beyond her ability."
"Doesn't the fact that we would have to speculate about whether it was even the same guy speak volumes?" I counter. "There was no person outside of potentially Paine himself that was present for both the battle in Southtown and the peace negotiations, right? No one except Paine himself can account for it being the same person."
"Why would someone, what, pretend to be Thomas Paine to go commit these assassinations, then?" Flavia asks.
"To get an outcome like this. To sow the seeds of conflict so they would last beyond the war. To weaken the alliance. There are all kinds of reasons someone might do this," I say. "But the important consideration is this: if the Patriots you killed at the villa believed that announcing themselves as Patriots would make you less likely to kill them, isn't the most reasonable explanation that they were not aware that the person who had started the violence also purported to be a Patriot?"
"If some of the Patriots were not aware of what other people in their organization were planning, that's on them for having such poor communication among their members," Flavia replies.
Damn, she's stubborn. I knew this, but it's a pain to have to pull teeth to get anywhere with this lady. I guess I can't make any more headway with her until I take the stand for myself.
Maribelle, who has been letting this exchange go uninterrupted until now, speaks up. "Khan Flavia, is there anything else about the events of the end of the war you wish the court to take into account?"
Flavia stands. "I've said my piece."
Maribelle looks at us at the tables. "Counsel?"
"Nothing more, Your Honor," Danica says.
"We're finished too," Robin says.
Maribelle nods. "Then you may step down, Khan."
Flavia returns to the gallery, her eyes narrowed warily at me as she passes. I notice Robin's fist clenched in her lap next to me.
Maribelle looks up at me. "Khan Basilio has declined to testify, stating that he wishes his testimony to reflect the khan regent's verbatim. That leaves only one witness remaining for the court. Mr. Belmont, please take the stand."
I take a deep, slow breath, then stand and cross over to the stand. I knew I'd be back here soon when I testified against Gangrel here the other day, but that doesn't help my nerves at all. I take my seat at the witness stand, my legs shaking (thankfully out of the sight of pretty much everyone).
"Alright Randall. We have heard a great deal of testimony from your fellow Shepherds. But as I'm sure you've noticed, there are huge swaths of information we do not know about you. I am aware you are a generally private person about your past, but for the purposes of determining your innocence or guilt, I will be obliged to ask prying questions. Do you understand?"
I nod. "Yes, I do."
"Good. Then raise your right hand." I do so. "Do you swear, in the sight of the divine dragon Naga, and on pain of penalty of perjury, to tell the truth in all matters while you are testifying?"
"I do."
"Very good. First, I think this matter should be cleared up once and for all. Are you Valmese?"
I thought I would get this question, and the inevitable follow-up. I've given it a great deal of thought as we've prepared for this case. I've decided that they at least deserve to know about the existence of my Earth, of America, and the fact that I am not of this world. Most of the details I plan to leave out, at least for now, but this cannot be avoided.
I shake my head. "No, I'm not."
"Then where are you from?" Maribelle asks. There's the follow-up, as expected.
"I'm from a place called–"
BANG.
The door to the courthouse slams open, and a pair of city guards burst through. "Your Honor! Everyone! Trouble!" one of them shouts.
Maribelle springs to her feet. "What is it?"
"Risen at the south gate, ma'am! Loads of them!" the guard replies. "The men at the gate can't hold them back much longer. They just appeared out of nowhere!"
Appeared out of nowhere? Normally when Risen appear, they come stumbling in from somewhere or they fall from one of the sky portals that open up sometimes. But for them to appear from nowhere suggests they were summoned. There is only one person I know for sure can do that. But why would Aversa do this now?
I don't have any more time to ponder this, because I find myself suddenly being pulled out of my chair and lifted over someone's shoulder. A glance behind me reveals that it's Basilio.
"What the hell, man? Put me down!" I shout.
"No can do, I'm afraid. Flavia said not to let you out of my sight," he replies. I notice on either side of me that the Shepherds have mobilized. However, it doesn't look like anyone has weapons, as they're not allowed in the courthouse except for the guards. The exceptions are Chrom, who kept Falchion at his side anyway (Exalt privileges I guess), and Vaike, who appears to have bullied one of the guards into handing over one of his axes.
I am carried right out the door and toward the building near the south side of town that has served as Ferox's unofficial embassy since the city was retaken. For obvious reasons, I haven't been invited in myself. Most of the Shepherds, meanwhile, head for the palace to get weapons.
Basilio only sets me down when we're inside, after like a quarter mile of bouncing on this dude's shoulder. From a glance, it's clear this building is a repurposed inn. Now, though, the front room looks more like an armory. Basilio pulls me by the collar a short way down the first floor hallway, then ducks into a room and retrieves a massive silver axe. He hands me a short broadsword too.
"I can't expect you not to defend yourself. Misuse this at your peril," he says as I try to get used to the weight of the thing. The blade is only about two, two-and-a-half feet long, but at the base it must be three inches wide. It almost feels more like an axe in my hand than a sword with its stoutness.
"Do you not have a healing staff? Or at least a lance?" I ask. I figure a dark magic tome is too much to hope for. I wish I had the Ruin tome sitting in my bedroom as we speak.
"No, those are spoken for by our actual soldiers. You're fortunate to even have that. If Flavia had her way, you'd be fighting barehanded," Basilio replies gruffly. Fair enough, I suppose.
We go back to the lobby/armory, where we find Flavia standing, a silver longsword resting on her shoulder. She beckons to me. "You're not to leave my sight until this mess is over. Get me?"
"Uh, yeah," I reply, stepping forward to join her.
"Good. Let's go." She heads for the door and I follow.
The city is bigger than the game makes it look, by the way. The distance between the east and west gates is a little over six miles, so considering the more or less circular city layout, the capital is probably in the ballpark of forty square miles. The courthouse and the Feroxi pseudo-embassy are both in the northwest part of the city. That means we've got at least five miles between us and the south gate.
Thankfully, the khans have horses set aside. Flavia hops easily astride her mount, then slaps the saddle behind her to indicate I'm to join her. My ascent up the horse is considerably less graceful, but after a few seconds, I've clamored up behind her.
At first I feel a little awkward about hanging onto the woman that's having me prosecuted for treason, but when she takes off at a full gallop, I get over that awkwardness pretty quickly and wrap my arms around her abdomen and hang on for dear life. She doesn't say anything as we ride toward the south gate.
After a mile or so, she eases up a bit to let her horse breathe a little and move at a more manageable pace. I cautiously release her midsection and sit up straight in the saddle again.
"Dare I even ask if you have something to do with this?" she asks as we ride.
"No, I don't," I reply. As far as I know, there's nobody in the Patriots that could summon Risen even if they were inclined to do so for my benefit.
"Awfully convenient timing," she says skeptically.
"I'm not running away. Not from my trial, and not from the Risen," I reply. "I have no reason to do something like this."
"Then what were you going to say? Where are you from? Who are you really?" she asks.
I sigh. "You know how that girl going by the name Marth claims to have knowledge of future events, and that was how she helped us stop Emmeryn from getting assassinated at the palace?"
"Yeah?"
"She's not the only one who comes from another world. Another time. I come from a world that, relative to this one, exists in the future. That's why I've made such weird moves at times. I've been trying to guide events to work out better than they otherwise might have," I say.
"I'm supposed to buy that?" she asks, shaking her head in disbelief.
"I can't make you believe anything. But it's the truth. And I have no idea how I went from my world to this one. Just woke up one day in Southtown, just in time to kill some bandits and meet Chrom and the others. I have literally no earlier history in this world."
"That's a tough story to believe, Randall," she says, not sounding entirely hostile. I choose to take that as a good sign. "I understand things are crazy these days, but visitors from the future?"
"Ask Lissa. She saw Marth fall out of the sky."
"Like out of the portals that the Risen fall out of sometimes?" Flavia asks. "Are you saying you came from the same world as all those Risen?"
"No, not me. My world has never seen anything like that. But I suspect the method might not have been all that dissimilar. I don't actually remember coming over though, so I could be totally wrong. A lot of this is confusing to me too. I've tried not to question it."
"Your story brings up a lot more questions than it answers," Flavia says. She notices something up ahead that I can't see because her hair is in my face. "But that'll have to wait. The Risen have spread pretty far into town. You stick with me, and don't dare try to run off, got it?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," I reply. I peer around her head, and sure enough, even like a mile into the town, some Risen are staggering forward into town. I imagine their directive when they were summoned was to break in and just start causing chaos.
Flavia draws her sword as we start passing Risen, and when the opportunity presents itself, she rides up alongside one and slashes at it. She does this a few times as we gallop closer to the gate. Thankfully, the Risen appear to be all infantry as far as I can see, so we're not having to joust with any of them. A few Risen mages do start lobbing spells at us as we pass, but Flavia rides too quickly for them to catch her with anything.
Wow. We are, uh, really just riding into the middle of this shitstorm.
As we get closer to the gate, the Risen get more densely packed. We're still a couple hundred yards away when we can't safely ride any further into the crowd. However, getting to the gate feels like a moot goal anyway, as the main group of Risen is already inside the city walls. So much for that repaired gate.
Flavia dismounts, leaving me to stumble and almost fall next to her. Her horse gallops off away from the Risen crowd. Instantly Flavia is in motion, cutting down Risen left and right. She really dropped us into the thick of things.
As for me, I'm doing what I can. I'm not super used to sword combat yet, but with a broadsword like this the technique is simple enough: get close, stab enemy. It's almost nice to be fighting Risen. They aren't useless in combat, obviously, but their brains are clearly limited. They rely on muscle memory to carry the fight. Because of this, if you can read a Risen's movements well enough, they're unlikely to ever surprise you. The most dangerous thing about Risen is normally that there's not just one.
I'd never admit this to Flavia, but Vasto's combat lessons are definitely helping me here. Risen already have poor balance, so if you can block their attacks in a way that forces their momentum to carry them where they don't want to go, you can get the upper hand easily. It's because of this technique that I'm currently able to juggle three Risen ganging up on me at once. One charges in with an axe, so I redirect its attack off to the side where it will get in it's myrmidon partner's way and force its advance to stop. This gives me time to focus on parrying aside the third Risen's thrust with its spear. Not wanting to waste a second, I step in close enough to smell the bastard and ram my broadsword into its chest.
I appreciate Basilio's generosity in giving me this sword, but I think lances are just more my speed. As the Risen starts to decompose before my eyes, I wrench the spear out of its hand and raise it just in time to catch the axe-bearing Risen's swing with the shaft. Unfortunately, the wood of the shaft is pretty crappy, and the blade digs deeply into it, almost severing the shaft completely.
Okay, maybe the sword is better after all. I catch the sword's handle just before the Risen dissolves too much to support its weight. In the same motion, I swing the blade around, slicing open the axe Risen's abdomen. I follow up the swing with a kick that sends it stumbling backwards, forcing the myrmidon behind it to push it to the ground completely to avoid collision.
The myrmidon springs forward, putting me on the backfoot again. Without my protective coat, I don't have nearly as much bulk as I'd like when handling a swift fighter like this. Still, its movements are simple. It uses the same lunge every time it approaches, I notice. The third time it tries the lunge, I sidestep around to its back and try cleaving its head from its shoulders. Unfortunately, there isn't enough power in my one-handed swing for that; still, it gets embedded pretty good back there. I wrench the blade out and hack again, and then a third time, until I see the characteristic dissolution begin.
I almost have a heart attack as I hear the CLANG of metal on metal right behind me. I whirl around and see that Flavia has protected me from an attack from behind by the axe Risen. I don't have time to thank her before I have to deflect a sword attack directed at her from the side.
"Your confidence in riding us into the middle of this might have been unfounded," I say as I stick the merc Risen in the solar plexus and give the blade a good twist.
She laughs briefly. "I just wanted to make sure I got to see some action before the oaf and the others arrived." She points over my shoulder in the direction of the palace. Sure enough, when I look, Basilio is approaching on a horse of his own, hitting Risen heads with his axe like they're polo balls. Behind him are three large carts pulled by a trio of horses apiece. As soon as the carts stop, a wave of troops bursts out the back and sides of the wagons like a clown car.
The Risen seem not to register or care that the landscape of the battle has changed. They just keep charging. It's definitely a comfort to have the Feroxi soldiers backing us up, though. Even so, there's a lot of Risen between us and them yet, so for the moment we remain on our own.
A mage lobs a fireball in our direction. Much as I hate to ruin this nice suit, I know my magical resistance is better than Flavia's. I step in front of the fireball and cover my face with my arms, then wince in pain as the blast hits me. I don't have time to move again before I feel a fist close around the back of my collar.
I turn to see who or what is grabbing me, but I'm taken by surprise when it's Flavia. She looks stunned, her eyes unfocused. A second later, I see why: while I was stopping the fireball, a Risen has buried the head of its axe in her back. It snarls at me over her shoulder. I rear back and thrust forward, stabbing it in the face across Flavia's body.
A moment later, Flavia falls to her knees. I squat down with her and ask, "Do you have concoction? Vulnerary?"
She shakes her head weakly. "Wouldn't help," she whispers.
"Flavia! No!" I hear Basilio roar over the din of battle as he and his allies try to get closer.
Flavia falls to her side. I examine the wound on her back. That's definitely what you'd call a critical hit. I can see why she thinks magic healing won't help; I don't know if I could even remove the axe without killing her outright.
She grabs my hand, her grip surprisingly tight. Her voice, however, is feeble, every word a labored gasp. "Tell me truly… Did you… betray us?" she asks.
"Never," I say.
She releases my hand. "Then I'm… sorry…" she sighs, and she doesn't breathe again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a Risen approach with sword in hand. For an instant, I wonder if I should just let it kill me, but I decide it's more important to hold out until Robin gets here.
I take up Flavia's sword, which is about twice as long as the little broadsword Basilio gave me, and block the Risen's attack with it. I get up and swing the thing over my head down at the Risen. Even though it tries to block the swing with its sword, the weight behind the swing goes right through the Risen's overhead block, and the blade embeds itself in the Risen's head, killing it. I'm thankful for all the training I've done with Longinus; it got me used to handling heavy, solid weaponry.
Still, a sword is very different from a lance, and I have only the vaguest idea of what the hell I'm doing. I take up a defensive stance and do my best to just keep fending off the enemy until Basilio and the others manage to fight their way up to me.
I've never seen Basilio look like this. His eye burns with fury, his teeth gritted so tightly I feel the tension in my own jaw just looking at him. He swings his massive axe around like it's made of cardboard, ripping through Risen like they're made of papier-mâché.
The Feroxi forces push past me, pressing into the horde of Risen and cutting them down with righteous vengeance. For my part, I slip into the middle of the pack and keep doing my part to thin out the enemy. I figure the safest place on the battlefield is in the middle of a protective Feroxi battalion.
Around five to ten minutes later, relief finally arrives; I see a javelin fall from the sky and impale a Risen through the top of its head. I look up and see Cordelia's new black pegasus circling overhead, spiraling down toward the ground. She lands just behind me, and I see that Robin—pale and shaking—has been given a ride by Cordelia to get to the battlefield faster. In the distance, I see our other mounted units bringing along everyone else.
Robin leaps off the pegasus, and Cordelia immediately takes off again. Robin looks me up and down as she approaches. "You're okay? You're not harmed?" she asks breathlessly.
"It's moot. Flavia is down," I say, pointing behind her where, some thirty feet away, Flavia's body still lies.
Robin gives me a curious look. "Randall…" she says, not finishing her thought, but I can see what she's thinking.
"She's not our enemy. She's a friend. We're saving her," I say.
"She is trying to have you executed," she reminds me.
"She just wants to find the person responsible for all those deaths. I can show her that person isn't me. And in any case, she has an important role to play in the events to come."
Robin hesitates a moment, then sighs. "I guess it can't be helped. Any idea what caused this?" We start to head for the alleys between buildings off the main road, getting some separation from the others.
"I suspect Aversa. She's the only person I know of who can summon a Risen army like this on command. The only thing I haven't worked out is why. But I suspect the timing with my trial is a little too convenient. Don't you think?"
"I agree. She may be trying to make you look even more suspicious by making it appear you have allies willing to kill civilians with Risen to break you out," Robin says thoughtfully. "But if that's the case, that brings up the question of how she knows so much about your predicament."
"She may have eyes inside the city somewhere. Or…" I recall that Aversa has a talent for teleportation magic as well. Didn't the man who sabotaged the negotiations just disappear into thin air? "Do you think she could be working with our saboteur?" I ask.
"What would that mean?" she asks in reply.
"It would mean the Grimleal are behind the assassinations. Which doesn't sound terribly unlikely, now that I consider it."
"Gangrel was clear in his letter that he wouldn't be bringing any Grimleal to the negotiations. They were unrepresented at the table," Robin says. "Maybe they didn't want to risk the nations coming to a diplomatic solution that didn't involve them."
"That does track. The Grimleal and their goals are definitely disadvantaged if the Plegians and Ylisseans make peace on Gangrel's terms, leaving him in power."
"They also have a lot to gain trying to drive a wedge between the Shepherds and the Feroxi, which could be why they wanted to frame you," Robin adds.
"Aventine told me that the Patriots have contacts in the Grimleal. It's very possible that Grimleal Patriots been watching and reporting the Patriots' actions back to the Grimleal's leadership."
Robin's eyes widen with realization. "That's who it was, I think. The man who attacked the negotiations. His dark magic was too powerful to be anything but the work of a master. It was the leader of the Grimleal. It was Validar."
I hadn't considered that, but it would explain much. He would know that killing Chrom or Robin wasn't an option because they were still necessary pawns for later, and he would make sure to spare Gangrel as a potential backup. He could always have Aversa silence Gangrel later.
A Risen interrupts our conversation by appearing at the far end of the alley and charging at us, lance raised and snarling wetly. Robin holds up a hand to tell me to stay back, then pulls out a yellow-bound tome from her coat. I think I recognize the javelin-shaped bolt on the cover.
"When did you get that?" I ask.
"Same Anna that sold me the Ruin tome," Robin replies, readying the spell. "Guess she's a literary enthusiast." She thrusts her hand forward, her fingers splayed. An exceptionally loud crack of thunder bursts forth as the Thoron bolt leaves her hand, evaporates the Risen, and blows a foot-wide hole in the wall of the building some forty feet away at the end of the alley.
I whistle, impressed.
She has a devious smile. "I haven't had a chance to use it yet. So if this is a dead run, I thought, no time like the present."
"Fair enough. I can see why you'd be reluctant to use that too liberally," I say, trying to see how far the magic penetrated into the building.
She admires the cover of the tome, giggling to herself as she savors the moment. I've always known that she has a deep and abiding love for tools of destruction, but I don't know that it's ever been this endearing before. Then she lowers the tome with a sigh. "Come on. Let's find a building where we can… take care of it."
My stomach clenches. "Right."
We find an abandoned house further into the alley and duck inside. It's not well lit, and though it has windows, it seems after the home was built, tall buildings were erected on either side of it, rendering the windows mostly useless. A perfectly unassuming place to respawn from.
"So, when we wake up again, I'm going to be under watch by Serge and Litica, so I won't be able to make any sort of preparations. I'm going to have to count on you to do that," I say.
She nods. "Right. I'll make sure to have a message relayed to the guards to consolidate their forces at the south gate and prepare for a surprise attack. Shouldn't be that unreasonable of a request if I explain that I suspect the Patriots might attack to assassinate the one who's about to testify about their inside information."
"What about weapons?" I ask.
"For the Shepherd witnesses, I'll just make sure they bring weapons to court. I'm sure Maribelle will understand if I give the same explanation about my worry that the courthouse will be attacked by assassins. As for you, I'll make sure Longinus and your tomes end up in the right place, don't worry."
I take a deep breath. "Okay. Is there anything else?"
She shakes her head stiffly. "I don't think so."
I hold Flavia's long-ass sword awkwardly. "I, uh, don't know if I can really use this to do the deed."
"You couldn't just, like…?" Robin pantomimes holding the blade against her throat and slashing across.
"I mean, maybe. Jesus," I say. This idea is something you never get used to. "What if we, you know, did it to each other?"
"Randy, come on, I can't kill you!" Robin protests.
"I don't wanna do it either, but wouldn't it be easier?" I ask. "Do you have any other ideas?"
She looks at the Thoron tome in her hands. "Maybe this could work. For both of us."
"What do you mean?"
She steps closer to me. "Here, like this." She reaches around my head and gently pulls it forward so it rests on her right shoulder. "Then with one blast, hopefully at this close range it will be strong enough to, you know…"
"Punch a hole?" I offer.
"Yeah," she says, laughing nervously, her shoulder shaking under my chin.
"Alright. Get the spell ready then." I remember my own impressive magical resistance. "Make sure it hits my head first. We've gotta be sure it can get me."
"Okay." I hear her draw the spell from its page, then she holds the spell out to the side. My left ear vibrates from the pressure the spell produces. The smell of ozone fills the little room.
The tome in her left hand drops to the ground. Her hand seeks and finds mine. Her fingers wrap around as much of my hand as they can. I turn my hand and hold hers properly, each of us squeezing the other for strength.
"Ready?" she asks in my ear.
"As I'll ever be," I reply.
She lets the spell go. Everything is white-hot for a microsecond, and then–
A/N: So concludes Part 1 of this three-part trial event! I'll keep this brief, since the next two parts will be dropping tomorrow and the next day. I wanted to make sure to give the trial its due thoroughness, but in the end, that turned into an over 33,600 word endeavor, so it's been split up into three more or less even chunks. Hope you're enjoying so far! And here is your Mixed Valance out-of-context quote of the week: "I don't know how poultry, ink, and bricks are related."
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As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!