In a bare earth yard, at his post by a gate; Brimmah stood alone today, mind a fractured mess of Harry's shackled face and rumors of the King's death.
Councilman Esq came passing.
As usual, Brimmah braced himself for his
daily sneer and insult.
But not today. Today, Esq passed him without
a glance.
Brimmah was surprised. Did he now notice me?…
Esq whirled. Then a sudden ignition of Runes
from his fingertip.
A powerful, red beam blasted.
Brimmah's honed instincts saved his life; he
threw himself sideways, but the blast clipped his shoulder, spinning him like a top and scorching through his gambeson.
Nearby guards rushed over.
"Do not interfere!" Esq commanded.
Brimmah was wide-eyed with terrified
confusion. "What — what is happening, my lord?"
Esq put his palm together. Runestrings
appeared around him, lashing then weaving, then creating plant life around Esq. Thick, green tendrils like tentacles.
"Confronting a traitor to the Realm." He
answered. Before Brimmah could even express shock at the allegation, he readied
another attack and said to him in wicked warning, "Draw your sword or die where
you stand, traitor!"
Brimmah rolled away from a raging tendril —
drawing his weapon on instinct.
Others close to Esq instantly grew thorns,
lashed and shot these thorns as projectiles.
Brimmah stood his ground. Swung his sword
fast. Over and over. Parrying anything that came his way.
Right after the spikes, Esq shot another
red, energy beam from his fingertip.
Brimmah's reflexes caught by surprise — he
barely managed to block with the flat of his blade.
The impact sent him flying and smashed into
the gate behind.
He sprung back on his feet immediately — to find himself indoors, sword broken in half.
One glance to Esq at the other side of the broken gate and the world blurred. Brimmah's rageful hatred took over. He want a fight
then by all means…
He he charged onwards with broken sword. Slid under attacking tendrils.
Execution Grounds.
The Council sat in a semi-circle of
high-backed chairs, their faces grim under the shadow of the gallows.
A messenger, breathless, rushed to Satorii's
side. He handed her a scrap of parchment.
She read it, her face maintaining a blankness, and rose immediately to depart.
Across the assembled lords, Valda — a sable-skinned councilman — watched her exit, his gaze suspicious.
Gate Yard
The clash between Brimmah and Esq continued.
Guards have gathered there in response to the disturbance but Esq's order kept them on the sidelines.
Brimmah pushed onwards trying to close in.
Esq snarled as Brimmah evaded yet another
tendril.
He circled around Esq, slashed the spiky head of another tendril that attacked, lunged onto a thicker one — using it as foothold
to spring away from more spike-ended ones attacking simultaneously.
Dungeons.
In the bowels of the castle, heavy iron doors
groaned open. Harry was led out, his chains rattled with every step of his funeral march as the Guards marched him toward the light of the surface.
Gate Yard.
Brimmah found his moment. Finally, a clear
path to Esq.
A sudden, sweeping root half buried in dirt —
knocked him off his sprint.
Heavy tendrils lashed down on him like whips.
The ground trembled and he's crushed under
their collective weight.
Execution Grounds.
Another servant approached the council. To Lord Valda in particular. The servant leaned in, whispering into Valda's ear.
Valda's eyes narrowed. He looked toward the
empty seat Satorii had just vacated.
Gate yard.
Battered and bloody, Brimmah pushed pushed his weakened body back up again.
Esq thought he'd won having retracted his tendrils. The sight of Brimmah rising again squeazed his face with anger.
He flapped an arm, sending a tendril whipping
across the air, smacking Brimmah like an object across the yard.
Execution Grounds.
Harry was led into the yard. He squinted,
blinded by the sudden sunlight after the dark of the dungeons.
He faced the waiting gallows.
The Councilmen glanced at one another, a
silent consensus passing between them.
A doddering old man amongst them, Lord Boren, reached out and flipped a small sandglass.
The grains began to fall.
Gate Yard.
Brimmah clawed at the dirt, his fingernails
drawing blood against the packed earth. With a grown of defiance, he forced his body upright, using his broken sword as crutch.
His bloodshot eyes met Esq's furious ones.