Prologue
“Well? Young man? What have you to say for yourself?”
Lightning, as he had so long called himself, glanced around at the sea of unyielding faces. He took a deep breath and hesitated a long moment before he spoke.
“What difference does it make what I say,” he said defiantly, “When I know that none of you will ever believe me? Even if I could prove my words you would wave away the very proof as falsehood. This much can I say in my defense. That all of you, in my position, would have done the same.”
A murmur of protest, indignation, and contempt rippled around the room.
“Must I repeat to you,” the judge said severely, “the charges, before you fully understand your guilt? Surely you must not understand or you would not speak such folly.”
Lightning opened his mouth to speak but shut it again as the judge once more went over the list of his crimes against the king; emphasizing ‘against the king.’
“The Murder of the Duchess Dianta of Calway.”
She was the king’s sister.
“Sir Richard of Seeten,”
The King’s nephew.
“The cruel and thoughtless murder of Lords Lyons, Galtoh, and Weke.”
Thoughtless, but hardly cruel.
“The murder of four and twenty knights in the service of Duke Matthew.
The defilement and slaying of three noble women.”
You don’t even know their names. He thought bitterly. He knew them, and he knew who had harmed them. That was why they had to die. A mocking smile played on his lips and those who saw it wondered at the heartlessness that could laugh at such a crime.
“Your robberies are too long to list,” the judge went on, “But the total value comes to 200 pounds of gold and over twice that in silver. There is no counting the many priceless heirlooms and precious jewels you have carried off. You are further more charged with the destruction of many houses, fields and other private property.
The murder of an estimated two thousand serfs, peasants, and loyal subjects of the king, in mass slaughter, or by cruel and unwonted means.
The destruction of the entire treasure caravan of Lord Alot, including the death of Lady Alot and her entire retinue.
The deaths of over three score ten of the king’s foresters and armed guards sent for your arrest.”
Lightning laughed. It was a hard, bitter, mocking laugh.
“All this in the kingdom of Malan?” he asked, “tell me, how many men can you pardon now that all their crimes are laid at my feet? How many did you promise rich reward in exchange for my capture? How many men, whose orders I have followed, gladly gave you information regarding me knowing I should take all the blame for the intentions of their hearts?
You, with all your secret information cannot know the secrets that lay locked up with me. The men who are truly guilty will never be known and for that I must die. For that I cannot offer a defense. For if there is one thing of which I am truly innocent it is breaking my word. What I have pledged is sure.
“As for what I am guilty of; murder? I have been paid to murder. But of the death of the Duchess of Calway I had no part. The man who killed her is gone, never to return. As for four and twenty knights, how is it possible? You yourself must see the preposterity of such a charge. Myself? Alone? Against twenty-four armed knights? Don’t make me laugh. No archer’s bow could pierce their armor and my sword-play could never match theirs. What do you take me for? A magician? Sirs, I am only a commoner.”
“Can you read?” the judge asked unexpectedly,
“I- well, yes.” He answered hesitantly.
“Then read this.” Eh handed an official letter across the desk. A liveried servant took it and handed it to one of the heavily armed guards who surrounded the prisoner. The guard thrust it at Lightning who took it awkwardly, his hands chained together.
The letter was addressed to his formal accuser, Lord Alot. The royal seal of Malan he knew all to well. He unfolded it and his face slipped into the passive, unreadable mask he used to hide his emotions, but the judge noticed all the same.
“Read aloud, Michael.”
An imperceptible shudder shook for an instant at the sound of the name that no one knew. The guard, who had come to read his prisoner’s slightest gesture smiled derisively.
“Yes read. Commoner.” He added mockingly referring to Lightning’s plea; commoner’s could not read and write.
“By order of his royal Majesty… it is commanded that one Michael Haert… Also known as Lightning Ranger… Murderer, thief, traitor to the crown… For his crimes…and other grievous actions…”
The Judge watched him eagerly as he stumbled over the lettering. He was waiting for the young man to break down. But he was disappointed. With a firm voice he finished the document.
“For these and divers other crimes, is to be held indefinitely… punished appropriately… if found guilty…” suddenly his voice trailed off.
“I can’t hear you.” The Judge said mockingly.
“If found guilty to be delivered to the king’s executioner.”
“Good.” The judge smiled as the paper was passed back to him. “Is it your desire to be found guilty? Will you mayhap be happier to cooperate with this court?”
“Cooperate?” Lightning laughed again, his composure fully recovered. Inwardly he cursed himself for letting his mask slip. But he openly mocked his judges, refusing to acknowledge the wisps of fear that clung to the edges of his mind.
“Cooperate?” he said again, “you mean stoop to the tasks you shun? Continue what I am condemned for? Trod the path I have sworn to leave? No. No, Judge MacAnee, I will not cooperate. Better to die, and be done with life then to live and live in death.”
A murmur ran through the crowd and the judge did not like the sound of it. It was a murmur of discontent; of indecision. The crowd that had so recently hated this prisoner’s cruelty now honored his bravery; and Judge MacAnee shivered as the wind of fear ran down the hall to him.
“Insolent rogue!” he shouted, “I’ll have your head! Dare you insult this court? By your own mouth you are condemned. Recant what you have spoken, swear to honour and obey your king and mayhap he will have mercy. Beg pardon of the people and pay homage to the gods and there is a chance your life will be spared.”
“What gods?” Michael spat out the words, “What gods? Show them to me! prove their power! you cannot, there are no gods. As for the people it is not them who I have wronged. The king I hate he has set himself up as lord of the earth. He is nearer to a god then your idols. I will not worship him, nor will I yield to you. You will spare my life; to live out in slavery. Endless torture you promise yet I would choose that rather then to lose my freedom and my will. That would be true torture, to own my enemies my lord. And I will not! Think you that I would choose otherwise? Do your worst but I will not yield. I am sick of working for you and your kind. I am through with it. This I have sworn and I never break an oath. Don’t waste your time trying to make me do so now. I curse you all. I curse your gods…”
“Silence him!” the Judge thundered. The crowd was once more incensed against the prisoner who had so dared to speak against them and their gods. The Judge knew riot would break loose if something was not done to quiet the people. He had hoped to give his prisoner a little more time to make his final decision but the crowd was blood-thirsty and must be satisfied. He held up a hand for silence and beckoned forth the torturer. Lightning eyed him with a cold glare, knowing what was to come. An uneasy silence fell as the torturer’s attendants made their preparations.
There was a great fire burning in the hall but it must be made much hotter before it would heat the irons. The guards backed up and made a tight semi-circle behind the prisoner as their captain unlocked his chains. They fill to the ground with a disconcerting clatter. Lightning rubbed his chaffed wrists and the torturer gestured impatiently to his tunic. Almost hastily he disrobed and stood half-naked before the glowing fire. The two attendants seized him and tied his hands tightly behind him with strong cords.
All was silent, waiting. One of the attendants checked the irons, they were not yet hot. Suddenly the silence was shattered as the great doors flew open and slammed against the walls and several armed guards rode directly into the hall.
“What is this intrusion?” Judge MacAnee asked, a little tensely as he recognized the banner of the king.
The circle of guards had closed around their prisoner with well trained swiftness. Lightning saw how useless it would be to resist and stood unmoving as they circled around and seized his arms.
“Hold!” a messenger dismounted from his horse as one of his attendants held it for him. “Hold these proceedings in the name of the King of Malan. I have here a document, signed by his own name and seal. It demands that you hold in custody one prisoner you have here, unharmed, name Michael Haert, also known…”
Lightning heard no more. With a hurried and frightened gesture the Judge beckoned them out. The guards responded readily and in great confusion he was hustled out of the room and back down to the dark prison.
“Well, you had a narrow escape.” The Captain of the guard said as he untied Lightning’s hands. “Your life was almost forfeit. You’ve had another lucky reprieve, but one day you will not escape the torturer’s ropes so easily.”
“I’ve faced torture before.” Lightning said softly. “I am not afraid.”
The captain laughed as he reached for the shackles that held his prisoner to the wall. Lightning put his back to the wall and held out his arms. There was no point in putting up a fuss.
“No, you’re not afraid.” The captain chuckled softly as his locked the cold iron around the young man’s wrists. “One day however, death will come. And then? Then I think you’ll try to save your miserable life. Because I know that you’re afraid to die.”
Lightning said nothing as his jailer left the cell and barred the door. The captain knew much about him; too much. If he did not come over to his side soon he would have to kill him when James came.
When James comes.
He shuddered at the thought as if it was a forbidden curse. He had not let himself think of it since he first realized that James was not coming. Not now, not ever. And he wouldn’t think of it now. Resolutely he put his mind on other matters.
He had been a prisoner here for four months and was becoming thoroughly sick of it. Standing in the dark he cursed the men who had put him here. He cursed John the Traitor and Matthew who had deserted him for love. And Christiana…
He caught himself short. Yes, Christiana had been the beginning of his troubles but he would not blame her. She was gone; and mayhap it was his fault. If only he knew what it was the king wanted from him. He desperately hoped his letter had not fallen into the wrong hands. He had left it in a safe place but with so many traitors one could never know. if that letter reached the King he didn’t want to know the consequences.
Lightning found himself suddenly angry, and anger without cause. In blind rage he struggled against the chains that held him and sought to tear them from the stone wall. At last, exhausted, he gave up the struggle. He knew that it was pointless to fight, he had always known. Sooner or later, death would come for him and he would have nothing to say for himself.
He leaned against the walls, breathing heavily, feeling the blood run down his arms where he had torn his wrists against the shackles. His jailer was right. He was afraid. Whatever the king had in mind it would not be good. Death would come for him, and he had never done anything good with his life.
“I’ve never asked for anything.” He whispered, “Never. Oh gods above, I don’t want to die!”
There in the darkness he finally gave up to the despair he had been fighting all his life and grief overwhelmed him.
