"Off with his head!"
Tara couldn't see what was happening, draped as she was over the soldier's shoulder with her head pointed to the floor. She squirmed, wriggled her butt and pounded at his back until he staggered. He put her on her feet, annoyance plain on his face and tapped a finger to his lips before whispering, "Easy, Missy. Don't go disturbing the proceedings or you'll be put in contempt."
She still couldn't see. Scores of individuals thronged together, fantasy figures mixed with commonplace human, all watching the proceedings with avid excitement. Here a chessman--a pawn--stroking his red mustache with peglike fingers. There a woman, golden hair swept up into a jeweled snood, her lace dress and petticoats crushed by the press of the crowd. A huge Caterpillar looped his segments around a trio of round-eyed oysters and he puffed at a hookah. Smoke rings rose in lazy round circles and drifted toward the ceiling.
Tara didn't stop to wonder at the people in front of her. They were in her way. She eluded the soldier's grasp, pushed forward and darted in and out between the bystanders. They gasped at her rudeness but for once Tara didn't care what anyone thought. She wriggled through a pair of legs, stepped on several toes and avoided an elbow that shot toward her face and she was at the front of the room.
She closed her eyes in relief.
Spike was standing to the side, held upright by the One of Hearts and the Eight of Spades. It was some other unfortunate that stood in front the bench, quivering with fear as soldiers clasped his arms and pushed him into a kneeling position.
Tara felt the crowd parting around her, felt a breeze and a tremor shaking the floor as someone passed. She opened her eyes, widened her eyes in horror and tipped her head back to take in the full height of the creature lurching past. Three-quarters of its height was in the torso, a narrow waist set on short stubby legs and broadening to enormous shoulders. The arm that swung in front of her was twice as long as she was tall. She could barely make out the head bobbing atop the immense body. It was black and shiny and she couldn't make out the features but she didn't think it was wearing a hood. The massive axe in its hand was double bladed, a perfect device for parting heads from shoulders.
They were going to behead the poor man right then and there! Tara threw her hands over her eyes, digging them in until colors blossomed in the darkness. Maybe she was dreaming, still asleep. Maybe if she waited a while before opening her eyes all this would be gone.
"Stop! Stop the execution!" An unpleasant odor wafted into the room and Tara blinked the spots out of her eyes so she could see.
"Queen Walsh..." The bystanders murmured respectfully, and all those who were standing knelt. The Queen entered and signaled they could rise. Her scaly blue eyes appraised the crowd and for a moment they lingered on Tara. When they moved on, Tara released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Zombie. Tara knew what that was but wasn't sure why. A headsman and a zombie. What was next?
Spike stared at the Queen as she approached, circling him, assessing him from head to toe. "He doesn't look like much. This is boy that took down my Frankenboar?" She ran her hand through Spike's hair as though testing its quality and Tara thought she might vomit. Spike seemed more focused than he had been but his eyes were still clouded. He tilted his head as though listening, then jerked away from the Queen's hand. Tara thought he looked better, his skin clearer but it might have been the light. She could only pray that it wasn't. That he was getting better and would be able to fight if necessary.
The man sitting behind the bench jumped to his feet and his crown tilted to the side, sliding across his balding head. It fetched up on one of his large protruding ears, and was narrowly saved from crashing to the ground. He grabbed at it and shoved it back into place, his face twisted with anger and his narrow jaw thrust forward so his lower teeth attacked. "What is this supposed to mean? This is my courtroom and I've passed Sentence!"
Queen Walsh was unfazed. She turned away from Spike and pointed to the condemned. "I'm not trying to usurp your authority, Snyder. I want the head preserved." She turned to the soldiers. "Take him to the kitchens and complete his Sentence there. Wrap his head and put it on ice immediately." She looked at the prisoner thoughtfully. "Dismember the arms and legs as well. Store them and the torso separately. He seems muscular enough. I might be able to use everything, eventually."
King Snyder scowled but made no further protest and the unfortunate was hauled away, whimpering forlornly.
Tara's heart ached for the poor man but she couldn't help being glad when the headsman stomped away behind them.
One of Hearts and the Eight of Spades pulled Spike upright and walked him toward the bench. He was marched up the steps onto a small platform and propped up against the railing that surrounded him on three sides. Tara thought he looked small and forlorn, standing there exposed to the eyes of the bystanders.
King Snyder rubbed his jaw and eyed him with disfavor. "What have we got here? A child? Nasty things. But I run a fair court and he'll be tried and executed according to the same procedures as everyone else. I won't have anyone saying otherwise." He scanned the courtroom as though daring anyone to say otherwise.
No one spoke but the crowd seemed to press forward with anticipation. Tara sucked in a breath. This wasn't fair! Spike was innocent! At least, he wasn't guilty. He didn't know the law about rabbits and he had only been trying to protect her. Tara tried to speak. She opened her mouth but could make no sound. Her face was hot and flushed and yet her hands and feet seemed carved from ice. Her throat seemed clogged and she couldn't clear the lump that blocked it. She wondered if she were ill. Perhaps she had caught something from Spike.
King Snyder rubbed his hands. "What are the charges?"
One of Hearts stood forward and recited in a singsong voice.
"Hunting the King's Rabbit within the Tulgey Wood. Ignorance. Being outside his room. Getting up to No Good.
Enthralling the ladies and resisting arrest!
And last but not least--killing the Queen's best!"
King Snyder's eyes gleamed with malice. "Serious charges. Does the prisoner have counsel? No? Then we'll proceed to sentencing ... "
"If it please Your Honorable Majesty, the prisoner does have counsel."
A large disembodied grin hovered on the railing next to Spike. Tara's heart thrummed. She recognized that grin. The Cat! She remembered something about a Cat being able to look at a Queen. Did that mean a Cat could be a counsellor? Was that allowed here? The warmth from her face curled down into her chest.
Chocolate eyes appeared above the grin and a face formed around the eyes. Then a tail appeared, then hind legs, then front legs and finally a fully formed Cat lay draped across the railing. Tara heard someone close by whispering to another. "The Cheshire Cat. One of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart's big guns."
King Snyder's eyes bulged from his head and his body shook so that his crown danced upon his head, tossed it from ear to ear. "How dare you! Who invited you into my courtroom? Who's behind this travesty of justice?"
"You did ask if the prisoner had counsel. And the prisoner is entitled to legal counsel."
"That's just like a lawyer. Twisting a person's words around. I said this would be a fair trial. I never said it would be legal!" King Snyder thrust his finger at the Cat. "This is an open and shut case. No need for legal folderol. He's a child and there never was a child that was up to anything but no good."
The Cat folded himself and lifted a leg to give himself access to his nether parts. He gave his manly attributes a few leisurely licks. "I understand Your Majesty's position but allow me to remind you of the agreement recently entered into with the Senior Partners. This is well within the parameters..."
Queen Walsh sat down beside the king, murmuring, "This should be interesting."
"Fine! Fine, fine, fine! Get on with it." King Snyder sat back in his chair, arms folded and mouth pursed.
The Cheshire Cat rose and padded to the end of the railing. He paused, clearly savoring the moment. "Very well. I request that all charges be dropped."
"WHAT!' King Snyder leapt to his feet again, bumping up against the bench. "He's a child and a boy at that! He's guilty! He's guilty of all charges and probably a dozen others besides. What reason would I possibly have for dropping charges?"
"All the evidence is circumstantial, Your Honorable Majesty. Hardly sufficient grounds for such grievous charges."
King Snyder blew a raspberry in the Cat's direction. "I live for circumstantial evidence. And any grounds are grounds for grievous charges. You're operating in my Kingdom, my courtroom and my well-established judiciary process. You'll have to do better than that."
Tara held her breath. What would the Cat do now?
"If I may question the prisoner. I believe I can prove there are mitigating circumstances." The Cat dug his claws into the railing. Slivers of wood peeled away and circled down to the floor.
"Mitigating circumstances? In my courtroom?" King Snyder guffawed and the crowd broke out in chuckles and titters and roars of delight.
King Snyder rubbed his chin and speared the Cat with his gaze, savoring his moment in return. "No. You may not question the prisoner. Anything he would have to say is irrelevant. I call my own witness. Let the Mad Hatter take the stand."
Queen Walsh's head jerked toward the King and tilted in question. Her voice was toneless. "Isn't that the rogue demon hunter? The one that also works with the Angel? Don't you think that might be dangerous."
"Nah, I'm calling him while he's wearing his Watcher's hat."
"Ah, perfectly harmless, then."
"Exactly."
The headsman returned and the crowd made room for him. He stood tapping his foot impatiently, twirling the axe blade from side to side. Tara noticed the fresh stains sprayed over the darker ones on the blade and more heat seemed to leach from her limbs. Her face grew warmer even as the ice in her feet and arms sent out frosty tendrils.
The Cheshire Cat stood up further, rising up on his feet. He seemed more human somehow and Tara wondered if that were the effect of his stance or if he were changing his appearance. Could he do more than appear and disappear? Would he be able to help if Spike's case went badly? King Snyder seemed determined to find Spike guilty and she had no doubt what his Sentence would be. Why hadn't she let Spike fight? If only she had known what was going to happen.
"Your Honorable Majesty! I object. The Mad Hatter wasn't present during the alleged crimes. I fail to see how his testimony could possibly enlighten ..."
"He's wearing his Watcher's hat. Watchers are experts on every subject they know nothing about. I'm the judge, and I'm the King and I say his testimony will enlighten. You can question the prisoner on redirect."
"I can't question on redirect if I haven't questioned in the first place!"
"Exactly. Is that outside the ..." King Snyder sneered and spoke with relish, "... parameters of my agreement with the Senior Partners."
The Cat sat back down. His grin was gone and he looked very much like a Cat. "You are skirting very close to negating the second paragraph in the fifth clause..."
"Am I outside the parameters."
"No, Your Majesty."
King Snyder grinned with satisfaction. "Well, then. Let's hear what the Nutter has to say."
At first all that Tara could see was the crown of a oversized hat. Bits of paper were tucked into the hatband and it wobbled down the aisle as bystanders allowed it to pass. It reached the front of the room and Tara could see its owner, a pleasant looking gentleman though he looked like a fool; the too-large hat would have covered his head entirely, if not for the too-large eyeglasses. His blue eyes blinked owlishly, magnified by the lenses.
King Snyder pounded his wooden hammer on the bench and demanded order even though perfect silence reigned throughout the room. "Mad Hatter, do you promise to tell the truth and only the truth I want to hear, so help you keep your head?"
"Oh, indubitably, Your Honor. Your Majesty. Your Honorable Majesty."
"Were you present at the scene when this child committed his heinous crime of hunting the King's rabbit?"
The Mad Hatter reached into an inner pocket and pulled out notebook. "If you will just give me a moment, Your Majesty." He thumbed through the book, moving it back and forth from his eyes as though to put the words in focus. "Mmmm. No. No, I wasn't."
"I see. Did you see the carcass of said rabbit."
"I believe so." The Mad Hatter smiled sheepishly. "I'm afraid I got rather faint. I'm not good with bodies."
"And was the rabbit dead?"
"Why yes. Most definitely dead."
A smug look passed over the King's face. "I think we can say that charge has been proven. The prisoner is guilty of hunting the King's rabbit."
The Cheshire Cat jumped up and spoke in protest but Tara couldn't hear him. She was dizzy. The heat in the upper portion of her body throbbed and buffeted behind her skin as though it was seeking a way out. She could feel drops of sweat trickling down her arms, encountering the frigid cold and freezing like ice cubes. Spike's shoulders were hunched forward and he swayed slightly. She hoped he didn't know what was happening. Didn't know what she had brought down on him. She heard a thready sound booming in counterpoint to the throbbing in her head--like the sound of cannons thundering in the distance.
"Moving on to the next Charge."
Tara shook her head. She had missed that. The Cheshire Cat hadn't overturned the Sentence? The King was spouting nonsense and the Cat couldn't refute it? Spike was doomed. Tara's eyes were drawn irresistibly to the headsman. She imagined throwing herself at the axe and knocking it from his grasp. Maybe she could cut her way to Spike's side and fight off anyone that approached. The axe was almost as tall as she was. She doubted she would be able to swing it. Maybe she could grab it and run. Maybe it wasn't as heavy as it looked. The booming sound pounded louder in her ears.
"So then, Mr. Nutcase, have you ever taught this boy anything?"
The Mad Hatter blinked.
King Snyder scowled. "You. Watcher. You ever taught this sniveling brat anything? 1 + 1 2? Pi squared can't be eaten? How to tie his shoes?"
"Oh no. I've never taught the young man a thing ... you can't eat square pie? No, I don't suppose you can. It's an interesting theory." The Mad Hatter pulled one of the papers from his hatband and folded it into a square. "One might speculate that the roundness ..."
The Cheshire Cat spoke but his voice was resigned. "Your Honorable Majesty. I must protest. This man is hardly the only teacher existent. If in fact he is even a teacher."
"He's the only teacher under cross-examination and therefore the only teacher that counts. Second charge proven. On to the third charge. The defendant ..." King Snyder pointed to Spike, "... is obviously outside his room. Third charge proven. It's a given that a child is up to no good. Fourth charge proven." King Snyder snickered. "Having a defendant with counsel is proving to be more fun than I thought. I may allow it more often. And to show that I'm willing to meet the counsel halfway ..." The King placed his hands over his heart and smiled benignly. "... I'll drop the other charges. There is only one Sentence anyway. What does it matter? OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"
King Snyder jumped to his feet with excitement and the crowd stood up as well, all eyes glittering, voices rising with approval. They began clapping and stamping their feet and the headsman lurched forward, the sound of his heavy steps apparent even in the uproar.
Tara was shivering so intensely she could hardly stand. She wasn't going to be able to take a step let alone run with an axe. Her heart beat faster, beating, booming. She could hear the booming as a steady accompaniment to the merry noise of the crowd.
The heat from her head seemed to thrust down sharply, shattering the ice cold of her body into crystals and she felt the breaking sensation in her mind, her anger erupting in fiery sparks. She heard a ping and the room was flooded with blinding light. Her head seemed to burst and burst and she felt like a volcano and wondered if lava was pouring from her ears. The people around her scattered away, leaving a ring of empty space around her. 'Blast Radius' she thought and wondered where that came from.
Spike jolted. The light condensed, centered above him and swirled and struck, surged into him. Flame burned behind his eyes and his skin became a blackened shell and the shell peeled and broke and light poured from the fissures like molten blood. Tara felt the pull; her innards and her essence were pulled. Everything that was Tara was sucked up into the flame and the flame burned into Spike and she could feel the flames stinging and biting and singing and everything that was Spike overflowed with the power and she seemed to implode and explode and forever ...
... ever
ever ...
...Tara was limp, the breath rattled in her lungs. The light was gone, the flame, the power was all gone and Spike knelt on his hands and legs. The room was completely silent except for the relentless booming. The crowd lay sprawled in clumps, crawling over one another in the attempt to get as far away as possible. Tara tried to get up, to go to Spike but she was a rag. She was certain all her bones had been turned into noodles.
An Oyster stood, his shell cracked, briny moisture dripping and he stumbled over his tiny oyster toes, headed for the door. The other oysters, three men and an old woman followed close behind. The bystanders, pulling their wits together, scrambled to their feet and a mass exodus began.
Tara didn't understand what was happening as the crowd was suddenly thrown back. The Red Pawn skittered past her, or least his wooden head bounced by and suddenly bodies piled up behind him. The booming in her ears increased in volume. She felt like a cannon had been fired into the courthouse. Shards of wood and glass splintered and pirouetted into the air. Tara watched the round black object spinning round and round and round until it collided with King Snyder's head.
She realized a cannon had been fired into the courtroom. Where was Spike? Tara struggled to sit up and she heard the Cheshire Cat.
"Stay down! This is a good thing ... kind of. Just stay where you are and wait til the fireworks stop!"
Tara didn't have a choice. Her bones were noodles and she couldn't get up. She tasted salt from her tears and cried. "Spike." She couldn't tell if she made any sound.
White chess soldiers marched into the room, spears held at ready and Tara watched as they pushed and pulled the dazed populace into orderly groups. A White Knight directed the invaders with curt words and abrupt gestures. She watched as they began piling bodies and removing debris until a path was cleared to the center of the courthouse. A pawn appeared pushing a large broom and then one with a mop and they brushed and scrubbed until the pathway gleamed.
Soldiers lined the path and the White Knight stood over the kneeling figure of Queen Walsh. He thumped his spear for silence and pronounced in stern and menacing tones.
"I declare this kingdom to be part and parcel of the White Kingdom, presided over by His Majesty King Giles. All bow and make ready for the presence of Her Majesty, The White Queen, Drusilla!"
TBC...