Chapter 3

“You’ve got an audience before the High-King and the full assembly of all of the petty kings and nobles of the land, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up ... looks like you’re in for the chop!” the head turnkey laughed as a pair of his screws unlocked his cell shortly after breakfast. They rather firmly pulled the startled young man out of his cell, up a couple of flights of stairs and into a washroom that was close enough to the surface to actually have a small vent high upon the wall supplying a small but welcome amount of both light and fresh air into the room. Benjamin wasn’t sure which of these he’d coveted most, clean water to bathe in or the feel of fresh air and sunlight!

“Get clean, fast ... or I’ll have Nasty Nate here help speed you along with the roughest pig-hair scrub brush we can find to scrape your hide! Clean clothes are there for you on the bench, when you’re not quite a filthy disgrace to be looked upon or smelled. Move quick-sharp then ... you’d not want to keep their eminences waiting, or be late to your own execution, would you?” He laughed.

Bathing was certainly an almost forgotten pleasure. There was something resembling soap and if he used enough of it directly on his flesh and scrubbed hard it would take off the top layers of embedded dirt and grime and not scrape off too much underlying skin in the process. The water wasn’t warm, but there was plenty of it and it was the best (and only) bath he’d had in the last six years.

As for the clothes, they might have been technically clean by the head jailer’s standards, but only just. They were all stained and well-worn and with many old holes in the garments that had been repeatedly mended at various times. It was the sort of clothing that could readily be considered disposable ... suitable for wearing to an execution and a rough burial thereafter. The poorly paid gravediggers would steal these from off of his corpse anyway, of that there was no doubt, as even these worn garments could be worth a few coppers to a ragman. Ben certainly had not been the first condemned man to wear these garments, and perhaps even a score of prior gallows-birds had worn this garb on their final walks to either the scaffold or the royal headsman’s axe-block.

When he was reasonably clean and dressed, the heavy iron manacles and chains went on his arms and ankles for the return trip up the long dungeon staircases to the High-King’s hall but at least he was strong enough now to easily bear the weight this time, unlike when he had been dragged down here as a small boy. One of his guards muttered something to him about that the prisoner, himself, should keep a very low bowed head and never make eye contact with the throne, if he know what was good for him, but Ben wasn’t feeling that humble or remorseful today. He kept his eyes held up impertinently while he was marched to the great silver circle before the steps to the throne, where malefactors were commonly placed to await justice. This device had not been in-place, years ago when he’d made his only other appearance in the High-King’s hall, but now this was where he was steered to, to stand formal judgement in this rather unusual prisoner’s dock.

Oddly, there was a good inch or two of water inside of the oversized silver flat basin on the stone floor near the first set of low stairs that reached up to the floor where the most senior nobles, like the Justicar were waiting for him. The High-King and his queen were seated above the next level of stairs, with the attending members of the royal family seated off to the monarch’s left. Off to the right of the throne there was a considerable gathering of over a dozen assorted ladies all clad in rich forest green gowns, which must have meant they were the full assembly of the Fae Good Fairy Godmothers and the Sisters of the realm, the enchantresses who were really the true might behind the throne, even more greatly feared than the might of all of his combined armies.

It was chilly today in the castle that spring day, not being much if any warmer here than it had been earlier down in his dungeon cell. Most of the royal princesses were wearing red with gold trim cloaks with the hoods pulled up, as were the wives and younger betrotheds of the host of prince’s too. The High-King and his queen had been blessed by a quite large brood of children, exceeding a dozen or so Ben had heard, most or all of which were seemingly here in attendance today. As for the representatives from the Fae, only the four very eldest women at the very front had their faces uncovered, the rest, the younger Godmothers and assorted Sisters, the powerful but mortal Enchantresses, behind them all wore light green veils, so that no part of their faces could be seen, as was ever their custom when out in public.

The High Steward, standing upon the step just below the level of the royalty, banged his heavy ceremonial iron-shod staff once upon the stone to mark that the formal proceedings had now begun, and that the High-King would now bear his full attention to the matter at hand. Then the Justicar, now standing on the first lower step above the prisoner, sternly bade for the captive to be ‘made ready’ to hear the charges laid upon him and await the wisdom of his wise and most noble liege-lord’s judgement.

By ‘made ready’, this meant for the two attending guardsmen to knock Ben’s knees out from under him, so that he was made to grovel in a position of all-fours within the wet silver circle of judgement to now hear his fate. This was promptly accomplished, loudly enough with the sounds of the heavy steel chains sharply falling upon the hard silver basin that the queen herself winced from the echoing sound of the sudden noise that then filled the hall. Almost at once the waters within this great silver vessel began to glow. Magic, very certainly, the young man reasoned ... and likely to be some very powerful submission or truth-spell working now as well. This suited his needs quite suitably and Ben began to smile.

Then the charges against Prince Benjamin von Baad began to be read by the Justicar, and there was rather little in these accusations that the young man hadn’t heard before. Likely, some clerk had merely copied out the very same charges that had condemned his father and sole remaining sibling before their swift execution six years ago. So was history to now be repeated again?

“ ... and how does the prisoner plead to these charges of treason?” The Justicar then asked, after lengthily naming off all of the dozens of various offenses that Ben’s late father had certainly been quite guilty of ... each and every felonious charge. Ben certainly had a reply ready at his lips.

“Firstly, I wish to commend the Justicar for his very comprehensive and yet succinct recitation of the many, almost innumerous crimes proudly committed by my late father, and also perhaps also by my elder brother, and I also commend the clear and concise manner in which he has presented these specific charges to this hall,” the prisoner stated, eyes focused in turn upon fellow nobles and his sovereign and undoubtedly with a rather insolent smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, “and under more appropriate circumstances I would welcome the opportunity to obtain his skilled tutorage for a proper instruction in both logic and elocution ... but I’m afraid that I must fundamentally disagree with his final stated conclusion of recommending my immediate execution ... as I have never once committed any of these heinous crimes.”

Well, that certainly caused an astonished gasp from most of the assembled courtiers!

“None of these aforementioned criminal deeds could certainly ever have been committed during the last six years, while I have been an extended guest of his Supreme Majesty, deep down under the floors this very castle,” he continued, “and in fact, my very whereabouts and activities have been certain knowledge to all since I passed the age of twelve and was then most securely imprisoned down below. When could I possibly have committed all or even some of these monstrous crimes? Abduction, arson, bribery, conspiracy and such, not to mention the other equally heinous accusations of murder, rape, treason and wholesale robbery, and of despoiling entire counties as well. All accomplished, you would state, while I was yet of such a tender young age, barely free from my mother’s skirts. Those heinous deeds then achieved while I was wearing short-pants and sitting endless at a schooling table whilst endeavoring to learn my sums? Most unlikely ... and what a calamity of nature that precocious young criminal must have been ... but I’m afraid that this accused prodigy of evil was certainly not myself, and here under the light of honesty and truth, in the very name of the High-Kings justice, I must be absolved of each and every one of these dreadful offenses.”

Magic indeed, the young man smiled as he saw that the glowing waters in the basin never once changed in color or tone from its starting yellow-green (chartreuse?) glowing light. This placid magical illumination seemed to indicate that he had spoken nothing but the truth, entirely without any evasion or attempt to deceive. Useful ... but the prisoner wasn’t certain of how ‘fair’ this trial was going to be and he was sure that his prospects for life or even liberty were still very uncertain.

Well, that rebuttal of the charges set the entire hall howling, various lords and ladies debating the merits of his refutation of the charges, many (or most) seething with the fervent desire to rid the kingdom of the final, very last Baad family member, but some were also mindful of the correct logic of his defense ... that he simply could not have done any of the treasonous deeds that he had been actually accused of. Yes, the last Baad ought to be killed, on general principle for the future welfare of all ... but yet this needful justice must be honestly accomplished, else it would in truth be an act of certain tyranny!

“He’s another insane Baad ... just execute him and let us be rid of them for good!” This was the loudest, clearest opinion on the matter that could be discerned by everyone present in the great hall, and obviously coming from the petty King of the North, Lord Egner. This was quite to be expected as this northern march lord was by far the Baad family’s oldest rival in the north, and there was considerable bad blood, both modern and ancient of origin, between the neighboring families. The one time (to Ben’s certain knowledge) that the two families ever tried to cooperate together for a common goal was the final failed attempt at rebellion ... where Lord Egner had agreed to join with Lord Baad to raid the southern kingdoms – and then immediately betrayed him to the High-King ... and was rewarded afterwards by receiving the two best fertile counties that the Baad family possessed. Clearly then and now, Lord Egner was motivated by his own self-interest.

This appeared to be the majority opinion as well, from the muttered voices that Ben could hear, so he quietly asked the Justicar if he might be permitted to add another few words, since the appropriateness of the many criminal charges laid against him did seem to be now factually in debate. The learned knight gave the young prisoner a brief nod of approval, after taking a glance towards the throne, so that he could sense the weather of the monarch’s mood ... which appeared to be thoughtfully neutral. Two of the most senior Fae had already scuttled over to the throne to earnestly whisper their thoughts into the High-King’s ear, and the Steward then shuffled over to join this seemingly unhappy conference.

“You feared, hated and loathed my father, and the rest of my miserable family,” Benjamin loudly called out to the multitude gathered in the hall, “and I can’t say that I blame you. I feared, hated and loathed him too, every day of my young life when it was already clear to him that I would never live up to the depraved standards he had set for me ... namely to be the most wicked evil bastard in the castle, excepting for himself and my nastier older brothers, of course. When they all died, one by one ... all murdered by my father, or slain on a battlefield, or finally lawfully ... and rightfully, executed upon the headman’s block outside these halls, not a single tear at their passing ... for any of them, ever once left my eyes. Their many crimes were not mine and the will to do such things, now or in the future, does not reside within my heart, as I have come to know it. Yes, I am guilty solely of the crime of being born a Baad, and apparently I’m now the very last one of that line ... such is the curse, one of many that has been laid upon my young head, but I cannot help that. What I can do is resolve that I will never perform any of those deeds of which I have been erroneously accused of here. Thus is my oath and promise to you.”

If the verdict had seemed to be mixed earlier, now every voice present seemed to be crying out their own thoughts towards the young man’s judgment, and few of these potential verdicts appeared to coincide with another’s. A few scuffles began breaking out amongst some of the hotter heads present, such as near Petty King Egnar’s followers, followed shortly thereafter by an outright brawl breaking out towards the very rear of the hall. The eldest of the Fae looked as if her heart was about to explode, from her obvious shrieks of loud uncontrolled rage, and it had taken the remaining two Fairy Godmother’s now by her side as well, to even partially restore a bit of her decorum.

Benjamin shrugged to the Justicar, “My apologies, your Lord ... it seems one of the Baad family curses is to bring disunity and disruption in our very wake. If you can locate for me the ‘ever-wise’ Fairy God-Mother responsible for that bit of disharmony, I’d very much enjoy expressing my displeasure to her in very full, but likely also extremely impolite terms. Should I make a guess, I would wager that this would be the eldest of the most-wise Fae, who appears more than willing to execute me herself with her own bare hands.”

“I know not, young lord,” he replied with a bit of a grin and a wink in his eye, “but I wouldn’t bet against you on that guess ... and think perhaps also the High-King might be sharing some of his own very apparent displeasure with that most august personage right now. You may resume kneeling now, as I think his majesty is preparing to speak. Speaking personally, I pray that you might enjoy a swift but happy judgement.”

The High-King did rise up to speak briefly, but this was done in private consult with the the quartet of the senior Fae, the Chancellor and his Steward, but not to the general court. Then too the Justicar was summoned up to the throne to privately speak his own mind as well, apparently in some great length. When this conference had been concluded, the Steward then stepped forth to announce to the hall that this assembly was now concluded and that the luncheon feast was now in readiness in the main feasting hall, upstairs. Ben’s fate was apparently yet still left undecided, and eventually the Justicar returned bearing a hastily written royal note that confirmed as much.

“The decision for now is ‘no decision’,” the Justicar quietly reported with a snort of disappointment. Officially, for the moment, you are to be permitted the liberty of the castle and its grounds within the castle walls and you might expect a more final determination of your fate perhaps by this evening ... or more likely sometime later. The Royal Council will meet after luncheon for this consideration, the matter of settling your fate, but I wouldn’t expect a hasty verdict from them either ... I’ve seen them take hours just determining what wines will get served at dinner, so that no vintage, vineyard or province can feel that they have been slighted. Go out into the garden, lad and take in the sun, what there is of it today, since I wager that you’ve not had even a peep of it for over six years. I’ll have a kitchen girl bring you a trencher, outside, so you can enjoy it out there and yet not miss the meal. You’d not have much stomach for a meal served in the great hall today in any case, being full of lords, ladies and assorted knights and courtiers that mostly have been baying loudly for the rending of your flesh!”

“Sir, you’re a wise and considerate man,” Ben smiled, “and I’d surely rather have had you as my schooling tutor than the insane necromancer I was instead saddled with, although he did teach me the love for the written word. And all very sound advice, but first, where could I find the castle library? It has also been six long years since I’ve held a book in my hands and my eyes yearn as much for the sight of good written parchment as they do for precious sunlight!” The Justicar bade for a guardsman to take Benjamin anywhere in the castle that he might wish to see, and to make sure afterwards, once the lad was outside, that one of the kitchen staff could find them to bring him a suitable meal, after which the guard’s duties would be complete.

The library was not in a well-trod part of the castle and indeed it looked like it was rather under-utilized. As libraries went, it was quite the feast for a scholar’s eyes, having something over four hundred volumes, none of which were religious texts or collections of dreary sermons by long forgotten churchmen. Ben didn’t dare linger here too long, being called by the books as a sailor would be imperiled by the cry of sirens, and he quickly chose a book almost entirely at random for his outdoor reading. Once again out in the very same castle courtyard steps, where he had once read geography while his father and brother were being executed nearby.

Today’s topic was more interesting, a slim-bound hand-written engineering text on how water could be pumped out from the ground and then transferred in pipes and conduits for use elsewhere. The binding and pages of the text were immaculate and a layer of dust on top suggested that this book hadn’t been touched in years, and very likely had never suffered the hands of any reader before now. The author’s focus was the mechanical means for moving ground water from a river or deep well for agricultural uses such as crop irrigation, but Ben could quickly determine other, more urban applications, like pumping water up to a high storage tank, so that water could flow via gravity downwards, through pipes within a castle ... for drinking, sanitation and especially waste removal. Even after reading only the very first chapter, Ben already had a dozen ideas for improving Castle Baad.

The provided luncheon trencher was something of a feast to both his eyes and his belly as well, and his stomach was happily fully before the last of his meal could be disposed of ... but as good as the food was to taste and swallow, his book still held the greater interest. He read avidly for a least an hour and completed his luncheon meal adequately without hardly ever taking his eyes off of his book, and with few distractions of any sort.

No, there were no executions on the schedule for today and he mostly had the courtyard all to himself. A few off duty soldiers or castle armsmen were doing light weapons exercises with practice swords, and rather poorly the lad thought, noting several mistakes in technique or posture that his brothers would have beat him near senseless for duplicating. Where there are rugged soldiers, sweating and showing off their muscles with their tunics off and bare to the waist, there are certain to be a gaggle of admiring young kitchen and house maids, cooing and fluttering their eyelashes while debated over which of the males on display would make for the best lover, or even a suitable spouse. There were a few of these ladies to be found nearby, but they eyed their prey unobtrusively, mostly out of sight and sound.

Sadly, there was a distinct shortage of pretty green-eyed girls in the courtyard today, but after six years spent in a dungeon cell, even a rather cloudy and windy day was a treat to be treasured.

“Ouch, that was a particularly abhorrent attempt at the Johansen Parry-Thrust technique, and with entirely the wrong footwork too, don’t you think?” A man’s voice behind him asked him with some seriousness.

Ben thought momentarily on this question, as truthfully he hadn’t been paying a watchful mind toward the exercises. “I couldn’t say for certain, as I’ve never tried that exact combination on a practice field. It is something of an advanced technique, I think I’ve once read, designed to parry a medium zone thrust upwards, to free the defender to riposte quickly and attack below into a now unprotected area. I’ve watched my eldest brother perform that move, and truthfully much better than that lad out there just managed, but he was not skillful enough to likely be successful using that technique in a duel, wielding sharp heavy iron against another truly skilled opponent. Maybe I’m wrong, but unless you are adequately skilled enough to be able to instantly transition from the defense to an immediate offence without thought or hesitation, and instantly striking your foe mortally then, at this precise moment, you greatly risk the failure of then being exposed to a likely very successful medium or high zone counterattack. It’s not a move I would consider using, myself,” Ben replied, closing his book to more closely examine his visitor. He almost then wished he hadn’t, or had just kept his mouth shut instead!