The Kyyts' mess hall was a cavernous space lined with scarred timber tables. It usually roared with the coarse laughter of men-at-arms, but today, the air felt thin, vibrating with unspoken dread.
Except for Brimmah's table, where Vale's laugh echoed off the rafters.
"You actually thought you had him?" Vale choked out, slapping the table so hard his tin mug rattled.
Brimmah glared at him, face bruised with minor cuts, "I almost did 'til he used his Runes!" he protested.
Vale's laugh finally stilled. "That's like me losing to you then complaining you only won because you used both hands. We are but front-liners for Runecasters, Brimmah. Seems to me you still have a hard time accepting that you can't compete with Runecasters."
A hush swept through the hall.
That's when Brimmah and Vale began to hear the cautious gossips being whispered at the table behind.
"We are not talking about a god… it isn't blasphemy to say it?" a voice muttered.
"Then treason perhaps!" another protested, "the Master of Conjuration slain in battle? Impossible! You better stop spreading dark rumours like this."
"If King Leonhart is truly dead then Elsem is finished…" replied a voice trembling.
Brimmah froze, his hand hovering over his bread. Before he could react to the unsettling rumour, another thing snapped his attention.
Through the wide, arched entrance of the mess hall, heavy boots came rumbling. A contingent of Guards marched past. In the center of their formation was Harry – escorted in chains and shackles.
Brimmah watched, stunned. Questions raced behind his eyes.
DUNGEONS
The dungeon smelled of saltpeter and despair.
Brimmah stood at the iron-barred gate, arguing with the guards on duty.
"Just five minutes to see him is all I'm asking." Brimmah pleaded. "He is a councilman – surely he is allowed visitors."
The first guard didn't even look him, his spear held vertical and unmoving.
The other replied, "Not your post, not your business, rook.Don't make me report you for treason."
"Treason? How?"
"What was it you said again? You want to know what he's been charged of? Sounds like something that would interest an Elmerian spy, don't that?"
"You best leave now, rook." the other man snapped, shifting his grip on his spear.
Sudden, sharp footsteps cut through the tension.
The councilwoman, Satorii, strode into the crystal-lit corridor.
The two guards immediately snapped to attention, parting to let her through.
She halted for a moment, giving Brimmah a cold side-eye. "Disappear from my sight," she commanded.
INSIDE CELL
Harry sat on a stone slab. Heavy chain fettered to his ankle – bolted into the masonry. The instant Satorii entered, he lurched forward desperately. His chains snapped taut halfway to her.
"Satorii! You came!" He squealed, eyes burning with an agonizing urgency.
She stood quiet, waited until the guard accompanying her left then shut the thick, reinforced door – before she answered. "Harry, tell me the charges are false. Did someone set you up?"
"The deal is done," He said, low but certain. "The Elmerians have what they wanted. My son will be returned to the border by dawn."
"How could you, Harry? And at a time like this!"
"Yes." He looked her straight in the eyes. "I struck a selfish bargain with the enemy right after Elsem lost her protector. I betrayed my nation and duty. Yet still I am begging for your help, my friend. Confirm my boy's return
for me. Please. Before the council executes me, let me know I didn't betray everything
for nothing…"
Satorii looked away conflicted.