Kastali Dun

Claire waited with Desaree as the doors to the Great Keep's throne room swung inward. They had already drawn their hoods, allowing themselves to remain unnoticed...for now. She wasn't interested in attention, especially since people still liked asking about her kidnapping adventure.

A surge of patrons swept forward. She and Desaree hung back, allowing the people to push their way through the opening. Rumor had it that the patrons often used their positions to fight over good vantage points before court began. Whole arguments often broke out, resulting in very unprofessional behavior. Those of higher birth always won the better spots, closest to the throne.

Court was considered an important part of Dragonwall's society. It was a time for those of nobility to gather for news, airing of grievances, witnessing of important cases, involvement in rulings, and the like. It was an especially popular time for one to flaunt one's wealth. Those who attended wore their most expensive attire and worked hard to look their best. Wealth gave the appearance of power—people in Dragonwall's court always wanted to look powerful.

Claire glanced down at herself. Beneath the velvet cloak pinned about her shoulders, she wore a gray and silver gown. Desaree's recommendation was well placed. The dress looked astonishing on her. It had long sleeves and a rigid bodice made of silver satin. The fabric of the skirt was of a darker gray satin, but it still shined just as much as the bodice. The neckline of the gown was a deep scoop, leaving her chest heavily exposed. Ties in the back pulled everything tight, accentuating her breasts.

The crowd had thinned when she and Desaree moved forward. They decided to link arms and sneak in, keeping to the back. They made their way through the crowd until they were fairly close to the throne, but well hidden within the many bodies present. As others shuffled in, the noise grew louder until it was nearly impossible to be heard. She and Des did little more than exchange scarce whispers.

It wasn't until the steward announced the king's entry that the hall fell silent. Everyone went down on one knee with their heads bowed in respect. The king swept in. Claire lifted her head a smidge to see him take his seat. A thrill of excitement shot through her. She watched him, but he couldn't see her. When he was settled, everyone was instructed to rise.

Announcements were given first. Most of these warranted bored expressions from those in the hall, and even a few yawns. However, their boredom quickly changed when updates on the Fall Tournament were announced. Just the mere mention of the tournament seemed to lift the mood in the room.

Every year, Kastali Dun hosted a large tournament on the middle-most day of fall. People came from all over the kingdom—some to compete in the tournament, some to sell their unique wares, but most to simply enjoy the festivities. There were various combat events, large vendor fairs constructed from bright tents, and various forms of entertainment offered by traveling troops of acrobats, actors, and all other manner of performers. It was an exciting time for everyone.

"As a reminder," said the steward, his voice ringing through the hall, "the tournament will last a full week. The Champion's Ball will occur on the final evening. Attendance for the ball is by invitation only. Invitations will be sent starting tomorrow." The steward's words earned many excited whispers. The prospect of a ball was a conversation topic everyone was eager for.

Having finished the announcements, the steward rolled up his scroll. As he did, Claire overheard those closest to her discussing plans for the Fall Tournament and the ball to follow. She and Desaree kept their heads down, listening with quiet interest.

When it was time to shift their attention, the steward slammed his staff into the slate floor to shush the hall, then he spoke again, "There are no new cases or rulings set for today. Let us move to grievances." He unfurled a different scroll. The chronicler sitting at his little table in the corner of the hall leaned forward and began scribbling notes on a fresh sheet of parchment. His quill could be heard especially well in the silence.

Requests to air grievances were generally submitted in advance. After an approval process, names were listed and assigned a date to appear at daily court. It was from this list that the steward now read. "Sir Robert Thatch," he called, reading the first name. "You may now step forward and air your grievance."

Like everyone else, Claire and Desaree stood on their tiptoes to see who this Robert person was. He appeared to be a middle-aged man, and fairly well off financially because his clothes looked more expensive than the average court-goer. Not to mention he carried the title of sir, which counted for a lot here.

In general, a person did not have to be wealthy to submit a grievance. Even the poorest man could petition the king's time. However, it was often harder for the poor, so mostly middle and upper class citizens were found to utilize the resource.

When Robert reached the king's dais, the steward stepped forward to offer a few hushed instructions. Robert nodded several times, then he bowed deeply and addressed the king. "Your Grace, I am here to bring a matter to your attention. I understand your time is valuable, so I will be brief. I have been cheated and wish to seek compensation."

As Robert said this, his gaze flicked over at someone on the side of the room. Claire saw anger in his eyes. No doubt Robert was looking directly at the man who had cheated him.

"You may continue," King Talon said, giving Robert permission to offer a more detailed accusation. Claire watched with rapt interest. It wasn't so much Robert's plight that held her attention, but rather, the king's reaction and solution. She enjoyed watching Talon from within the audience. It allowed her to see a different side of him—the get-down-to-business side. Not only that, it gave her a thrill to witness him when he had no idea that she was present.

She smirked when she considered how badly Talon wanted to know the secret deed she had planned. Little did he know she was standing in his court, watching him from beneath the shadow of her hood. Might he behave differently if he knew she was there?

After Sir Robert Thatch, others came forward with their own grievances. Each was given a brief amount of the king's time. With each new grievance, the attention of the patrons in the hall began to wane. Even Claire's became a struggle as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She was finally beginning to understand how tedious Talon's job was. Her respect for him was growing.

As this was all going on, she frequently glanced over at Desaree. Her handmaiden hadn't lost her nerve. Desaree stuck it out with a pale but otherwise determined expression. "Are you okay?" she mouthed at one point. Desaree gave her a curt nod even though she looked a little ill.

When she next looked up at the activity in the throne room, a small group of people had made their way to stand before the king's dais. They looked like farmers based on their shabby attire and unkempt appearance. As she studied them, she realized something wasn't right. Their faces were wide-eyed and their movements jerky. Something left them terrified and she had a feeling it wasn't King Talon.

"Good Morning, Your Grace. Thank you for seeing us. I am the mayor of Swinston."

"Where's Swinston?" she whispered to Desaree.

"It is north of here—part of Celenore."

While Swinston was unfamiliar, Celenore was familiar. Claire had spent a great deal of time on her geography lessons with Mage Joren. Celenore was one of four Dragondoms belonging to the territory of Eigaden. The other three Dragondoms in Eigaden were Iassila, Galadhal, and Eryas. Eigaden had the fewest Dragondoms, while Kengr had the most at seven.

Claire turned her attention back to what was happening. "We wish to bring a frightening matter to your attention, my king." The mayor's manner of speaking was not poor, as Claire had expected based on his clothing.

"What might that matter be?" King Talon asked.

"We are experiencing an epidemic of death."

Several people beside Claire began to whisper. Was it the plague? Some of them wondered. She ignored them and kept her eyes on the group.

"Our children were targeted first, Your Grace, and then our women..."

"You suspect foul play?" King Talon sat erect on this throne.

"I suspect something far worse, Your Grace. I suspect demons."

A heavy silence fell.

"What evidence have you?"

"Blackened bodies, Your Grace." The mayor motioned behind him. Two men stepped forward carrying a shrouded body. The shroud was removed. Claire gasped, but her voice was drowned out by the crowd. When more of the crowd became aware of the activity, a number of shrieks resounded.

"It's poison!" Claire whispered to Desaree. The body was that of a child. The skin looked identical to Cyrus's: every inch was blackened like tar.

The noise in the hall increased until the steward was forced to slam his staff against the floor repeatedly. When silence fell, the man spoke once more. "There is a single wound, here—" He peeled back the child's tunic to reveal a stab wound, or what was assumed to be one. It was hard to see with the caked-on blood and blackened skin.

"It must be the Vodar," Claire whispered. Desaree's purpose was momentarily forgotten as her mind began spinning. Why would the Vodar do such a thing? Obviously this was Kane's doing. How sick of him to target children! Her skin burned as anger flooded through her.

"Kane is growing bolder." Reyr's voice was in her mind, addressing King Talon.

She glanced up at the dais. Talon's eyes flashed with suppressed fury. Kane had struck again, right under his nose. "I leave you to handle this, Reyr. Get them away from the public's eye. Give them comfortable lodging and arrange for a private meeting. This is too gruesome for court."

Almost at once, Reyr rose and spoke with the group. His words were hushed, and the whispers in the hall made it impossible to hear what was discussed. A few moments later, he had ushered the group from the hall, taking the dead body with him. After they departed, those in the hall settled down.

Two more grievances were brought forth. Claire was surprised court wasn't canceled altogether, but she was relieved that it wasn't. Desaree had not yet been called forward. She hoped the event wouldn't disrupt their plans. Her biggest concern was Verath—their entire plan was contingent on his success. She worried he might have failed to get Desaree's name on the list, especially given the last-minute nature of the undertaking. With each name called, her worry grew. Surely Desaree would have already been called forward, had her name been there. Perhaps the chronicler had denied Verath's request.

Then, almost as if on cue—"Desaree Kendall, you may now step forward."

At first, the steward's words didn't register in Claire's brain. Desaree had to elbow her.

"Desaree Kendall?" The request sounded again.

Together they removed their hoods. Beside them there was a cry of surprise, then another, and then another. Patrons nearest to them were shocked when they saw Lady Claire standing beside them. Those closest began curtsying and clearing away, giving Claire and Desaree space. Like a ripple effect, the surprise spread throughout the hall. Those who could see her also curtsied in her direction. Claire felt her face burn as hundreds of eyes glued to them. Now exposed, she and Desaree moved forward. The crowd parted as they emerged, taking their places before the throne.

Claire's gaze instantly met Talon's. She did not look away when she and Desaree curtsied politely. Now that Desaree was a handmaiden for royalty, she no longer needed to bow. Nobles did not need to bow either, except in certain circumstances, like when the king entered a room. But for simple greetings such as this, only a curtsy was required.

Something about the familiarity of where Claire stood forced flashbacks into her mind. The last time she was here, she had held Talon's gaze out of hatred. Now she held it out of respect. His scars did not frighten her. His strength did not frighten her. His inner monster did not frighten her.

As she watched him, it appeared as if Talon's earlier worries had all but disappeared. He wore an amused grin, which surprised her considering he was a man of hidden emotions. Perhaps her presence had truly taken him by surprise.

"So, this was your secret all along?" His voice caused her heart to thump harder than usual.

"Yes, Your Grace. Are you surprised to see me?"

"Surprised? Quite. But I am also pleased."

The steward shuffled over and whispered a few instructions, which seemed to flutter in one ear and out the other. As he spoke, Claire looked at Talon's Shields. They sat at the base of the dais. Verath's intense regard was locked upon Desaree. The others looked as amused as Talon, though they hid it better. Only Koldis was smiling widely.

The steward stepped away. As he did, Desaree's voice rang out with confidence, leaving Claire full of pride. "Greetings, Your Grace. I stand before you because I have been wronged. When I was a girl, my birthright was stolen from me, my inheritance stolen, my way of life—stolen. I wish to seek retribution for the wrongs I have suffered."

As was customary, Desaree stopped. The king would either invite her to continue or shoo her away. It was rare to be dismissed, but it happened occasionally.

"Verath, did you know about this?" The king's voice was in Claire's head again.

"Aye, my king. It was my idea."

"I see. Then you both have my full attention." The king gazed down at Desaree and said for all to hear: "Your words disturb me, Desaree. Please continue."

"Thank you, Your Grace. I wish to reclaim my title, if it is within my means. By right I should be Lady Desaree Kendall. Furthermore, I wish to bring the thief to justice."

A number of hushed whispers broke out. Claire kept her face forward, careful not to look at Desaree or anyone else. She was certain that Caterina was somewhere in the audience. If only she could see her anger!

"If your parents were Lord and Lady Kendall, then such titles should pass to you, by right. Why then is there a problem?"

"My parents are both dead, Your Grace. My mother remarried after my father died. Her husband, my stepfather, inherited her title. Shortly thereafter, he disowned me."

"I see. I assume someone of his line is still living and in possession of the title you claim is yours?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Very well. Have you proof of foul play?"

"I do not yet have proof," Desaree said. "Therefore, I request that a full investigation be carried out."

"I see. It is within my means to grant such an investigation, but before I can, you must present the name of the accused. Who then do you wish to investigate?"

"Lady Caterina Rosen."

Desaree's words brought chaos. The entire hall erupted into fierce speculation. One voice could be heard above them all shouting, "She is full of lies! Lies, I tell you!" In response to Caterina's cries, a hush fell upon the audience. "Permission to speak for myself, Your Grace?" Caterina said, emerging from the crowd.

"She shows herself at last," Claire muttered under her breath, finally glancing over at Caterina, who had just placed herself in direct view.

"You may speak for yourself, Lady Caterina," the king said.

Caterina stepped forward, just out of arm's reach of Desaree. "Do not believe a word this woman says. She lies—I can prove my innocence."

"She does not lie," Claire said, raising her voice. "I can vouch for her innocence." As Claire spoke, Talon gave her a nearly imperceptible nod.

"You?" Caterina barked a laugh. "Since when does an outsider hold more credibility than me? I have a solid reputation to back up my name. What do you have?"

"Silence!" Talon's firm command echoed from the walls. "If what you say is true Lady Caterina, then you have nothing to fear from a formal investigation." Caterina's skin paled. Talon turned his attention back to Desaree. "You are familiar with the necessary requirements to carry out an investigation? You will require a liaison and a witness, as will the accused."

"Yes, Your Grace. I understand the process."

Claire smiled. This was the part they had discussed. She intended to be the witness, which only left—"I wish to stand in as Desaree's liaison." Verath stood, walked away from his position at the base of the king's dais, and took his place beside Desaree.

"I should have known..." Talon's smug remark was addressed to Verath. "Very well," he said aloud. "Am I correct in guessing that Lady Claire will stand in as your witness?"

"Yes, I wish to act as her witness in this investigation."

Talon's eyes glittered down at Claire. His face was composed, but she hoped he approved of her decision. After all, it was a matter of honor, and he already agreed in a previous letter that honor was important. "Very well, Lady Claire." After holding her gaze for several more moments, he turned his attention to the accused. "Lady Caterina, who do you name as your liaison and witness?"

"I will support Lady Caterina as her liaison."

Claire shuddered when she heard Mage Targa's voice. He materialized from the crowd to stand beside Caterina. Moment's later, China Doll appeared too.

"Well, this will be fun," Claire muttered again.

"Good. It is settled, then. No need for a vote as there are willing people in each party. As Dragonwall's king, I give my permission." Talon turned to the chronicler. "Let it be known that an investigation will be carried out with Desaree Kendall as the accuser and Lady Caterina Rosen as the accused. We will reconvene for the trial in approximately six weeks, on a date agreed upon by all parties involved."

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared that Desaree did the same. It was done. All that was left to do now was bring Caterina to justice, and Claire knew that few things in life would give her greater pleasure than that!

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