Chapter 41: Isekai Life & The Trial

I was gently shaken awake, earlier than usual, by a concerned Calliope. “I’m sorry, Theodore, I know you like to sleep in, but we need to be ready for anything, today,” she reminded me, her voice low nd conspiratorial. I nodded numbly as I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Kythaela’s ... trial, or whatever it was, would be happening today, and I had to make ready.

I was prepared for things between Yua, Calliope and I to be awkward after the previous night, but she actually greeted me fairly warmly, smiling to when I stumbled into the sitting room after getting dressed. She was already armed and armoured, the black alchemically treated steel of her greatsword sitting across her lap as she knelt before the fireplace. Her smile was a quick flash and then gone, as she lowered her head in some kind of meditative pose. I couldn’t blame her for doing it, though, we’d all need our focus today.

Thanks to Calliope diligently waking me up when the dawn was still fresh outside, we had plenty of time to prepare spells and make ourselves presentable. While Calliope stuck to the court gown she had worn the night before, after brushing it down with a damp cloth to smooth out some of the wrinkles, and while I wanted nothing to do with the silly looking elven court garb, I did slip into one of my more presentable robes. For armaments, I slipped a few darts up one of my sleeves, and Calliope strapped her dagger into place around her ankle. And of course, we conferred quietly before prepared what spells we could that might be useful in court ... or in fighting our way free.

When the elven Sentinels stormed into the room, intending perhaps to find us indolent and caught off guard, instead we were well prepared and ready for them.

“The King desires your presence, sir,” the leader of the Sentinels, one of the guards who happened to escort us back to our rooms last night, sneered at us in elven.

“As His Grace desires,” Calliope replied smoothly, and the three of us filed out of the room obediently, but not meekly, ahead of the Sentinels.

Raszil, Sorrel and Voss were already roused from their rooms, but I was gratified to see that Voss and Sorrel, at least, were not taken by surprise. Voss looked downright resplendent in freshly polished plate, with his spear and magical shield strapped in place at his back. Sorrel only wore her simple farmer’s blouse, but she had found a pair of trousers somewhere, and seemed a little more confident with Voss’ spare longsword strapped to her back. Only Raszil look ruffled at all, with dark circles under his eyes, but he greeted us in good spirits.

“Good morning, Theodore, and the good lady Calliope,” he said with a small bow, “And thank you again, Lady Yua for, leaving me alone to rest last night. I do have so much trouble sleeping when I don’t get a mattress to myself.”

The reasoning was thin, and between Voss and the Sentinels I wasn’t sure exactly who he was trying protect Yua’s reputation from, but I’m glad he attempted something. Yua, for her part, looked away and mumbled her thanks.

I gave Raszil a nod, then looked to Voss. “Are you ready?” I asked.

“Yeah, as ready as we’re going to be,” Voss said, giving me a nod in turn, “I know this all seems dire, but I think we’ve been in a worse fix.”

“Remember, though, that Enna, Ashryn and Katriana isn’t only a few minutes away to save us,” Calliope added bitterly.

Voss cracked a smile at that, “Fair enough, but these guys haven’t ever killed a dragon before, so I think that puts a mark up on us.”

“Get moving,” the lead Sentinel barked in elven, forcing us to follow him, surrounded by our escort of Sentinels, down the stairs and through the corridors of the palace. There were a dozen of them, which seemed to me like an unnecessary display of strength, but at least they weren’t so nakedly trying to intimidate us that they’d order us disarmed.

Raszil matched his pace to mine. “I met with our friend last night,” he said to me, quietly, in dwarven, “He was in a cell, but seems healthy enough.”

I blinked in surprised. How did Raszil find out I knew dwarven? “Good,” I replied, “I’m glad he’s healthy. Not happy about the cell part, though.”

“I have a feeling that it might not be just the princess we end up having to rescue,” Raszil shot back.

I nodded. Whatever happened to Kythaela, her protector might end up responsible for allowing to happen. It made a slightly twisted kind of sense. “You weren’t caught, then?”

“Oh, I was caught almost immediately,” Raszil said, “But I had a timely rescuer from our good friend, the maid Siora. It was her who helped escort me to our good friend.”

The guard leader turned to glare over his shoulder, and barked at us again. “No talking!”

Well, at least it seemed like we might have more real allies than we thought, if the maid was willing to help Raszil sneak around the palace. I couldn’t even imagine what kind of danger that would put her in, from her own people.

We arrived outside a pair of tall, wooden doors, carved with geometric patterns and flanked with purple-caped members of the Ravenwatch on guard. There were glares exchanged between the two groups of elven soldiery- clearly there was an element of inter-service rivalry at play, to say nothing of their possible political divide. But whatever was at the heart of that rivalry, it didn’t stop the Ravenwatch guards from pushing the huge doors open and allowing us entrance into the palace’s throne room.

The room was round, obviously the lower level of the huge domed space on the level above that we had dined in the night before. On a raised dais at the far side of the room, King Kindroth sat in a tall, polished wooden throne carved in a similar manner to the doors we just passed through. Next to his throne stood the severe figure of Prime Minister Caeda, holding, for some reason, an ornate leaf-bladed spear and a hand bell. Behind him hung down a massive purple banner with the image of a blue fox rampant. The walls were otherwise bare except for the ubiquitous bronze panels reflecting sunlight from the handful of tall windows.

In the centre of the room, her face red and puffy as if she was crying, was Princess Kythaela. She looked like she hadn’t slept, with dark, red rimmed and bloodshot eyes. The chair she was sitting on was made to match the King’s throne, only not quite so tall, but Kythaela was so small and slender that she seemed a child in an adult’s chair rather than a adult on a throne.

Lining the walls were various elves in different courtly outfits, similar the ones we our party had been given the previous night. Scattered among them were Sentinels on guard, watching over the proceedings.

In front of the the King and Princess both was that High Priest, Travaran. He was watching us with a sneer on his face as we filed in to the room, before he turned back to the King. “ Here are the very villains themselves, sire, here to receive your judgment,” he said in elvish, addressing the room as much as King Kindroth.

I blinked and shook my head. Stepping forward, I said, “Pardon me, but am I correct is assuming that means our guilt has already been determined?

Travaran turned back to me, with a smug expression. “We have already examined the Princess to the satisfaction of the court. It has been determined that she is no longer a maiden. Sir Haseth has already testified that he he was not the one to rob Princess Kythaela of her purity, so it must have been your party, acting in concert to pull the wool over Sir Haseth’s eyes.”

That’s when I noticed Haseth, standing near the King’s throne. “That’s not... !” he began, stepping forward, but the Prime Minister gestured down at him with her ceremonial spear, ringing her bell. “One more interruption, Sir Haseth, and you will be found in contempt of the King for the second time today,” she said, and the Ravenwatch knight shut his mouth with an audible click.

As for myself, I could scarcely believe what I had heard from the priest. “Excuse me,” I said, stepping forward to address King Kindroth, “But did I hear that right? You examined the Princess for proof of her maidenhood in a crowded room full of all these people? Are you insane?”

The bell rung again, and Caeda pointing her spear at me this time. “It is improper to question the sanity of the King! Watch yourself, human.”

I shook my head. “That’s a Gods-be-damned barbaric thing to do, given everything that Kythaela has lived through these past two weeks.” That created a stir. The air filled with angry murmurs from the assembled crowd but I waved them away. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry but this situation makes me unspeakably angry. I have no idea how, as a father, you can allow your only daughter to be assaulted in that way.”

“The purity of the royal line but be preserved, according to the Old Law!” Travaran shot back, “Who knows what manner of unwholesome spawn we might allow into our ranks if we-”

Unwholesome spawn? What the hell was wrong with this guy? “Is this the same Old Law that let you lot justify trying to enslave half the world?” I asked, “I thought you were supposed to be the reformed ‘Mist Elves’ now?” More angry mutters. I was losing popularity fast, but I didn’t particularly care. What I wouldn’t do for a few extra levels and the Fireball spell right now.

“Enough!” The King intoned from his throne, “My people are not the ones who are on trial. You have been accused of violating the princess, human.”

I couldn’t help but note ‘the princess’ was the language he used for his own daughter. I shook my head. “Neither myself nor any of my companions ever touched Princess Kythaela in an improper way.” This was true- when it came to a meeting on the waters of a certain lake, it was Kythaela who was touching me, not the other way around. “I am not going to go into details, because she has been traumatized enough by this farce, but I witnessed the aftermath of the assault on the Princess. It occurred during her captivity, and the one who attacked her is already dead, at the hands of a ghoul.”

“You expect us to believe such lies!?” the High Priest demanded, but I ignored him, instead focusing on the king.

“Your Grace, we’re speaking of an attack on your own daughter. She has been through hell in the last few weeks, and now she sits here on display as though she is the one on trial,” I said, my tone accusatory, “Please, hasn’t she experienced enough suffering?”

The King blanched and looked away from me, shamed by my words. But unfortunately, my words had little effect on the people around him. The Prime Minister’s spear was levelled at me again. “You have been accused of perjury by the eminent High Priest Travaran, human,” she intoned, “What say you?”

I could hardly believe my ears. “I was actually present for the rescue of Princess Kythaela and returning her to her home,” I replied, “While your High Priest was here. Your own knight, Sir Haseth, will confirm the truth of what I’m saying. Why would my word not be taken over Travaran’s?”

Caeda’s eyes narrowed at me, but it was Travaran who spoke. “There is a way of dealing with this, as spoken of in the Old Law. We shall let the gods decide with a trail by combat!”

I gave an aside glance to the High Priest. He had a smug expression, as if he had actually won something by making this challenge. I just shrugged. “Yes, let us allow the gods to decide, with steel alone. No spellcasting to tip the scales.”

“Let it be done,” the king ordered, “This process threatens to drag, and I would have it over with. Choose your champion, human, and they will fight or die with steel and faith alone.”

The High Commander, Sundamar, stepped out of the crowd, and bowed briefly to his king. “It would be my honour to represent the royal interest in this, Your Grace. It is known that I have never had time to attend magical instruction, and I have no spells to tempt me.”

“Very well.”

I turned back to my allies. That was less than ideal, he might actually have real battlefield experience, perhaps magical weapons, too. Most of these elves seemed to be lightweights compared to my party up to this point, but the High Commander was an unknown factor.

“So, my elvish isn’t that good, but I am correct in picking up that this whole thing is a fucking joke?” Voss asked in Common.

“Basically,” I replied shaking my head, “These pro-Storm Elf people really want that princess dead, and this whole court ‘process’ doesn’t make any sense to me.” I glanced over my shoulder, and was relieved to see that the High Commander was pulling on an elven chain shirt but didn’t seem to have any other armour. “Think you can take him?”

Yua would probably be best for overwhelming him quickly, but Yua didn’t have a magic shield for proper plate mail. I didn’t want to just win, I also wanted my friends not to be hurt, and while I could see Yua giving me a hurt look for picking Voss over her, Voss’ Armour Class had to be floating somewhere close to zero. Lower numbers being a good thing, in AD&D, of course.