Chapter 88
"That is a large fish that you have reeled in" said Lord Turchon drily as we stood in his chambers later on that morning. "I hope you have the strength to land it, for it has many influential friends in Lastbridge". I thought I caught a hint of amusement in his sunken eyes, and shook my head. "I suspect many of those friends already hold me in low esteem, so I have little to lose on that score. If it please you we must act quickly in this matter before the news reaches them and they send word back north to overrule us". He looked at me with a curious expression. "I am minded to do as you suggest, for like you have little to lose in the esteem of our masters and have no love for this odious man, but first I must know more of this matter. What is the significance of the wooden box?" I told him the whole tale from beginning to end, and his curiosity turned first to disbelief and then to anger. "So, you now understand why I have hungered for justice and revenge for the last fifteen years" I concluded. "This Fodric killed my family, destroyed my home and stole my birthright".
Word of the morning's events spread quickly through the town and the Great Hall at the Keep where Lord Turchon conducted his business was full to bursting later that afternoon when my prisoner was brought forward to face judgement. The hubbub of voices fell silent as Turchon, flanked by guards, took his seat on the dais and Fodric was led in, hands bound and put onto his knees in front of him. From where I was standing behind the seat I could see the fear in Fodric's bloated face and his eyes darting to and fro as if in some desperate attempt to find succour, but I could feel no pity. His distress must have been heightened by the fact he still wore his night shirt in that public place, and he looked shabby and vulnerable as a result, a far cry from the prosperous and arrogant man who had stood in my courtyard a few days before. "Who brings complaint against this man?" called out Turchon, and I stepped forward from my place in the shadows, my gear clean, my breastplate polished making quite the picture and I saw Fodrics eyes widen in alarm when he beheld me. "I, Esteldir son of Galdirion of Rushwater Vale, Senior Captain of Bearcliffe Garrison and King's Emissary. I accuse this man, Fodric of Northford of theft and murder. Murder of my mother, Faelneth, my Grandmother Branniel and the serving girl Lathra, and the theft of a jewellery box containing family jewels and the titles to my deceased grandfather's carting business". I continued, speaking in detail of the last evening I had spent with my family, Fodric's visit, his rejected proposal and his parting threat to us. A great hush had fallen on the hall and I knew my chance had come at last. I tried to make every word count.
I continued, telling of my awakening to find my home ablaze with a fire of unnatural ferocity. Only one man would have had ready access to enough of the valuable lamp oil required to stoke such conflagration, and that was the man who brought it up from the south before it was sold at the market. I told them of my orphaning, and of how Fodric, having stolen the box containing the titles to the business he coveted then claimed that they had been freely given to him, and he had greatly prospered as a result. I then related the tale of how I had forced my way into his house in Northford after the First Battle of the Ford and discovered the same box and its papers under his bed, but that when I had gone to Lord Nordir and made plaint against him I had treated with contempt and warned as to my future conduct. But now that very morning my men had found the box and those very documents still in his possession. Turchon stirred in his seat. "Do we have this box here? Let it be brought to me". One of my men did so and he inspected it closely, outside and in, and began carefully unfolding the documents it contained. "A thing of great age and value I do not doubt, marred by someone who forced the clasp with a knife. Captain Esteldir, pray tell us how this article demonstrates the guilt of the accused?"
"Of itself it does not, for you only have my word against his own that it was my grandmother's and that she kept all her valuable articles within it. He has stated previously that she gave him the titles to the family carting business in token of all the hard work he did keeping it running after my grandfather fell ill, and in hope of my mother's affection and hoped for eventual re marriage to him. That is a vile lie, but one that stands on its own two feet. What he cannot explain satisfactorily is how he came by the other documents that the box contains, which relate to our ancient holdings in Rushwater Vale, documents which he would never have had any valid reason to possess. My grandmother was of sound mind and would never have parted with them in error, for they were of too great a value to her". Turchon leafed carefully through the fragile parchments in his hand and then directed his gaze towards Fodric. "What he says is true, how do you account for this?" The latter could give no answer at first, and I saw the fear growing in his eyes, the same fear I had seen so often in battle in the eyes of those who knew they were bested, but then he found his voice and rallied. "This is a vile and baseless plot, hatched by this vengeful boy jealous that I had my way with his slattern of a mother when he was a pup, and the bitter old fool sitting here before me that I have obviously had the better of once too often. I am an upstanding and loyal subject of the King, and he will be displeased when he hears how unjustly I have been dealt with here. You do not know with whom you trifle!" He stood, trying to muster some dignity, and the hall exploded into a cacophony of cheers, shouts and jeers, for it appeared that he was not as universally liked and admired amongst the townsfolk as he had hoped. Eventually order was restored and Turchon once again turned to Fodric, a look of pained forbearance on his face. "Do you have anything further to say in your defence?" Fodric's puffy face assumed an expression of disdain. "I do not, and you had better have your explanation for this impertinence ready when my friend Lord Barachon hears of this". He turned to face his audience and got just a few short cheers for his trouble. "In which case" continued Turchon "you shall all now hear my judgement in this matter. The accusations against you are credible and detailed, though they cannot be supported by any witnesses, having taken place so long ago in a different place. However you have given no reply regarding the wooden box and its contents or any explanation as to how you came by them, and so I have no choice but to infer your guilt in the matter. The accusation of murder and theft against you from Esteldir of Northford is upheld. The punishment is death, and I see no reason for it to be delayed, let it be meted out forthwith".
Fodric had clearly been hoping that sufficient time would elapse for Lastbridge to get wind of his incarceration and command his release so this was a bitter blow to him, and his self assurance was immediately replaced by panic as he realised the trap he had sprung on himself. He was dragged from the hall between two of my men struggling with his pleas for mercy drowned out by the noise of the baying crowd. I followed, my face a mask but my heart filled with elation, for it felt as if a burden were being lifted from my shoulders. Outside a fine rain was falling out of the grey late afternoon sky, and ravens were wheeling high overhead against the great looming crag. I have always found executions distasteful compared to a relatively clean death in battle, but this time I felt no pity for the victim, and I held his gaze mercilessly as he was dragged past me. As went by he shrieked a curse at me and spat in my face, receiving a cuff from one of the guards for his trouble, but I remained impassive. He had his hands bound and the sack was placed over his head and suddenly the moment I waited for for so long had arrived. When the deed was done I turned and walked away, yet I knew at once that no satisfaction at what had finally befallen their murderer would ever compensate for the loss of those he had taken from me. It was a hollow victory, but a victory nonetheless.