Air Awakens - Kova Elise - Страница 57

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“Some also consider your powers to be a form of heresy against the Mother,” Egmun continued.

“There’s a reason why we killed them all!” a Western senator shouted. “They’re twisted, evil. Give it to the Knights of Jadar, they will know what to do!” He was on his feet raging at Vhalla.

She looked at him numbly.

“Silence!” Emperor’s voice echoed across the room. “Head Elect, please continue.”

“This almost pales in comparison to an attempt on the life of the future Emperor Solaris, an attempted murder on our Crown Prince Aldrik.” Egmun gave a small bow in the direction of the prince.

Aldrik’s expression remained unchanged. Pain and fury were burning in the aura around him, but his eyes had a restrained coolness in the brief moments he allowed himself to glance at her. Whatever the truth was, he did not really think she had attempted to harm him.

But what had happened? She was on trial for a whole list of things. These men and women looked at her as though she was a rabid animal. The hatred she was drawing strength from was still strong, but her spine was weak and began to curl as tears fell from her cheeks.

They were talking again, arguing over this or that but all it sounded like noise to Vhalla’s ringing ears. She was tired. These people clearly did not care what happened to her. No, they cared, but what they cared about was seeing her dead.

Vhalla opened her eyes and looked at Aldrik, his head had turned slightly to listen to whatever discussion was now occurring, but he took no part.

Vhalla wanted to blame him. Had it not been for him, none of this would have happened. If it wasn’t for him, her magical powers would’ve never Manifested, she would’ve never been involved with the Tower, and she would still be blissfully unaware of one senator’s name.

But Vhalla couldn’t blame him because she had been happy. For a moment she thought back to the night before, his arms around her waist. The memory was so perfect it almost broke her. Vhalla tried to mentally rejoin the conversation but it seemed to be wrapping up.

“The trial will commence at sunrise tomorrow then.” The Emperor looked to her. “We have already assembled a list of witnesses and people to speak. Is there anyone the prisoner would like to name on her behalf ?” He didn’t even use her name.

“My-my friend, she was alive when I found her. Her name is Roan.” There was a murmur through the senator’s benches at this. “Does-does she live? She’s known me a long time.” In truth, Vhalla wanted to know the answer to her question more than she wanted to demand Roan speak for her. Her friend likely, rightfully, wouldn’t have the warmest words about her presently.

The Emperor looked at his youngest son.

“I’m afraid I don’t know her status,” Baldair confessed.

Maybe she had only imagined hearing Roan’s shallow heartbeat.

“If this Roan is unable to give testimony, is there anyone else?” the Emperor asked.

Vhalla thought, swallowing more tears when she thought of Sareem and the glowing testimony he would’ve given her. Her mind filled with images of his crushed body.

“Master Mohned,” she choked out, struggling to keep the sobs that shook her shoulders at bay. The master would come for her.

“It shall be done.” The Emperor knocked his staff again three times and stood. The princes and senators following suit.

Vhalla didn’t try to stand again; she looked at the ground. Rat and Mole seemed to be content to assist her, wrenching her roughly to her feet in a way that wrung a small cry of agony. Vhalla’s head dipped forward, and her hair covered her face.

“This session is adjourned.”

Royalty left first and the senators began to stream out one by one as Vhalla was dragged back to the cells below.

After removing her shackles, Mole threw her back into her cell with a rough laugh. Vhalla fell to the floor like a rag doll and didn’t move, her energy expended. She heard the door slam behind her. Her body may not survive long enough to see the end of the trial. The darkness that crept behind her eyes had a heaviness to it that she’d never felt before. It wasn’t sleep her body craved, it was death.

Just as she was closing her eyes, Vhalla heard the echoes of boots down the stairs. For one heart-pounding moment she thought Egmun had come again to punish her for crying not guilty. But the walk was even heavier than his. Too heavy to be Aldrik and yet something about it sounded familiar. Vhalla heard the clink of the guards’ armor as they brought their right fist to their breastplate in salute.

“My prince!” Mole said, Rat echoed. Vhalla struggled to turn her head. Prince Baldair stood just beyond her cell door carrying a large box. His still wore a frown, and his brow was scrunched and lined.

“What was that sorry display, men?” he asked, his voice having all its normal melodic tones but none of its mirth. “You’re supposed to be taking care of our prisoner; she was ten times worse in that courtroom than when I brought her.”

“Sh-she tried to kill your brother, th-the prince,” Rat tried.

“She’s been found guilty of nothing yet, and until that time, she is to be kept alive and well.” Prince Baldair turned with a glare in his direction.

“She’s alive,” Mole offered.

The prince sighed. “I will assume you have simply never been taught how to tend field wounds. I’ll show you myself. Open the door,” he demanded, full of regal poise.

“Senator Egmun gave us clear instruction that—” Mole began.

“Egmun is your senator, and I am your prince. Do we need to go over the chain of command?” Baldair snapped.

“No, no my lord, of course not.” Mole fumbled with the keys. The door unlocked and he pushed it open. “Be careful, my prince. She already tried to kill one member of the royal family.”

Prince Baldair ignored him as he entered the dim cell. The only source of light came from a torch on the wall outside, so his face was cast in shadow. He set the box down with small clanking sound not far from her.

“Can you sit?” Prince Baldair’s voice was even softer than his tired smile. Vhalla said nothing and struggled into a seated position with only a few whimpers. “Good,” he encouraged and reached out for her shoulder.

Vhalla flinched as his fingertips grazed her skin.

“Vhalla, I have to dress your wounds properly or they’ll fester.”

She tried to sit still as he reached for her shoulder again, but her whole body wouldn’t stop trembling. All Vhalla saw was a man’s hand coming for her in the same, dark, cramped space as before. The energy pulsating through her muscles snapped and she swatted his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, her body overcome with shivers. His hand paused in the air. “Please...” Vhalla wanted to break down then and beg him for safety but she was reduced to sobs and coughing blood through split lips.

“Vhalla,” Prince Baldair murmured faintly. “What happened to you?” He looked and absorbed her battered form for the first time.

Vhalla’s breathing was short and fast, giving her a lightheaded sensation. Her eyes struggled for focus through the rage that was blinding them but they found their targets. Rat and Mole took a step backward as the force of her glare pressed upon them.

Prince Baldair followed her stare, his body gathering tension like an archer’s bowstring. He took a long inhale of air before exploding upward. The prince crossed the short distance to the door in two quick steps. Mole and Rat had been weary under Vhalla’s glare, but now horror consumed their faces as the prince barreling toward them. Prince Baldair put a hand on each of their breastplates and pushed them into the far wall of the hallway.

“Did you touch her?” he roared, pinning them both in place.

Each guard seemed too shocked to move as the prince’s largely muscled frame held them easily.

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