The Priests' Trial
Golen shouted at his other siblings and kinsmen. They had banded together to drive out Ezellia, but the truth was, none of them trusted each other all that much either. If Golen disappeared, the fief would most likely roll downhill to whichever younger brother stood next in line — so how could anyone be expected to believe in anyone? And yet, to think they would stab him in the back like this, when Ezellia hadn't even stood trial yet! "You fools, which one of you was it? Which of you informed on me?! Can't you even read the situation?!" Is this man an idiot? Johan, watching from up front, stared at Golen with plain incredulity. It wasn't as though every noble learned the arts of governance and politics and knew how to act appropriately in every situation. Look no further than Stephan — below the second son, there was no helping any of them unless they found their own will. The result was creatures of pure noble blood with nothing whatsoever between their ears. Even so, really — to be born into a noble house and have so little sense. In front of this many watching eyes, he should have insisted to the very end, 'I know nothing of this! It's slander!' — reading the situation could wait until afterward. Instead he was showering insults on the very kinsmen whose families might have come to his aid. Wait — did the bastard actually poison the old Count? Judging by his reaction, it wouldn't have been strange at all if he had. Johan briefly considered asking, then gave up on the idea. The truth didn't matter anyway. Golen and his kinsmen would be dragged to the gallows for kin-slaying. Since Ezellia had promised obedience — or rather, cooperation — there was no longer any reason to keep them alive. And they made perfect candidates to shoulder the accusation that had been leveled at her. As he was dragged away, Golen caught sight of Johan and cried out. "My lord! There has been some terrible misunderstanding. Clear this up for me!" "Gag the prisoner and interrogate him until he confesses." "My lord, no! I don't know what you've been told, but it isn't true!" The dwarves shut Golen up with a firm grip of their thick arms. Once a gag was forced between his teeth, he could say no more. The priests who witnessed it clicked their tongues and spoke. "Truly a depraved creature. How can anyone be so brazen?" "The envoys from the Republic denounced them as well." The trial was ready in no time at all. The Order had never intended to hand the fief over to Golen and his brothers in the first place, so the proceedings ran like water down a hill. The envoys from the Republic, the minor nobles who had served the fief as retainers, and the priests sent by the Order all attended as witnesses. They sized up the situation and cooperated with great enthusiasm.
Strip the prisoners bare, mount them upon beasts, and parade them through the streets.
Crowds roared as they hurled stones and filth, curses and obscenities mingling in the air. Exhibiting criminals like this was one of the people's favorite spectacles. After interrogation-that-was-torture and an event like this, the guilty and innocent alike invariably confessed. Golen and his kinsmen, their spirits broken, admitted their crimes. "Execute the prisoners and hang their heads! Let the people of the fief know who killed Count Culia."
Once the executions were finished, the priests of the Order who had campaigned under Johan's banner were summoned and came forward. "Will you not execute the elf of House Bleuas as well?" "When we interrogated the kinsmen of House Asada, it seemed her crimes were not so grave. Perhaps that is why Lord Johan has let her be." "Truly a merciful judgment." The priests, too, had no fondness for killing the innocent out of mere expedience. Now that things had come this far, revoking her excommunication and sending her off to a monastery or a city would suffice. "You called for us, my lord?" "I have something to say, so I called you here. My brothers." At Johan's gentle words, the priests beamed. This knight respected the clergy regardless of rank — and he was soon to be a Count, no less. Few among the nobility and knighthood displayed such virtue. Nobles were arrogant and knights were brutish. They sought out priests only when they needed something, trumpeting their own piety — but showing it through action like this was rare indeed. And for Johan, immediately after seizing the fief, to visit the neighboring temples and clergy with comfort and shower silver on the poor... that was rarer still. "Speak, my lord. We are listening." "The truth is, I intend to marry." "...Oh! Congratulations! His Excellency the Bishop will bless the union personally. And who is the bride, if I may ask? A noble of the Republic, perhaps?" The priests were quietly worried she might be. The Republic was, on paper, an ally of the Order — but hardly a trustworthy one. They could turn their coat for profit at any moment. If Johan married into a Republican house, the Order would have genuine cause for concern. "No." "Then a noble of the Empire?" "Nor that." "My lord, with our narrow understanding we cannot guess. Please, tell us the answer." "I intend to wed the elf of House Bleuas, here before you." "......" "......" The priests froze. Suddenly, Ezellia — who had been sitting beside them, radiating no presence at all — came sharply into focus. "Er... may... may we ask... the reason...?" "What reason should marriage need? The moment I laid eyes on her, I fell in love. Her excommunication will be lifted, so fortunately there should be no obstacle to the union." The priests hung open-mouthed, blinking. They looked Ezellia up and down. It was simply beyond belief — by what sorcery had she made Johan fall for her at first sight? She was far too tall for an elf, voluptuous to boot, and older than Johan besides. Her face was beautiful, but on its own that could not offset so many faults. Honestly, even the former Count Culia, foreign blood notwithstanding, would have married anyone else rather than her if only he'd had the choice. "Say something, one of you." "M-me?" "You have the most experience among us, do you not?" "No, that is..." Every eye turned to the oldest of the priests, who had served as assistant clergy on this campaign. He was an accomplished and seasoned man of the cloth, one who had received his orders directly from the Order's bishop. But even an assistant bishop had nothing useful to say in a situation like this. Least of all to a young man in love. Tell him she's deceiving him? He would very likely erupt like a fire. Johan was a pious knight, yes, but he was no pushover — and men like that were all the more terrifying once their wrath was roused. But pointing out her crimes, or her lowly lineage, would land no better. With a single declaration of love, Johan had sealed off every avenue of rebuttal the priests had. "No... it's just..." "Is there something you wished to say?" "C-congratulations." The priest managed at last. Johan nodded with a fond expression. "I am truly glad to receive such a blessing. Ezellia. Are you not glad?" "G-glad. Indeed, my love." When Johan pulled the elf beside him into an embrace, Ezellia's body went rigid with fear. Johan murmured with a look of exasperation. "What is it? Anyone would think I'd kidnapped you." "I-I-I know, my love. Forgive me." "...At least act the part properly." At Johan's words, Ezellia desperately threw her arms around him. Fortunately, her usual stony expression worked in her favor — it had never looked much different from terror or nervousness anyway. At the sight of Ezellia clinging to him like a limpet, the priests swallowed their disapproval. So frivolous! So lecherous...! Their hearts ached as though watching someone they had cherished like a child fall into ruin.
Back at the temple, the priests gathered among themselves and their voices began to rise. That was how great the shock had been. "Why couldn't you say anything?!" "What was I supposed to say, then?" "Tell him she's deceiving him, or urge him to think calmly—" "You've never once been in love yourself, have you?" When the assistant priest said this, the young priest replied with his chin held high. "No, I haven't. What does that have to do with anything?" "Try saying that to a young man head over heels in love, just once! You'll have a blade flying at you! No — a blade would be a mercy. Meddling can only make the fire burn hotter." "That may be, but Lord Johan is not like such young men." "Honestly... come to your senses! I know as well as you do that Johan is devout. But he is a knight, not a priest! Even we, who have sworn ourselves to God, are led astray by the hot blood of youth — what chance does a mere knight have of conquering his desires?" However much the priests denied it, the man in love was not coming back. They wracked their brains. They felt it anew: Johan truly was a knight without a single flaw. Not once had he ever stirred up trouble within the Order. People had taken to saying God must have sent him — and not without reason. For such an unblemished knight to start behaving so willfully didn't so much anger them as break their hearts. "We should report this to the Order, shouldn't we?" "I'll write the report myself." "What do you suppose will come of it?" "What can come of it... We wait, and if nothing changes, we simply watch." Prizing Johan loose was unthinkable from the Order's standpoint — he held the swords at his disposal, and in every other respect he was performing flawlessly, without a single shortcoming. Re-excommunicating him, or applying any form of coercion, was of course impossible. "They say love finds its way past gates barred and roads blocked, in the end... really..." "Is this the time to be reciting verse? Enough of that nonsense." "I-I'm sorry." The priests could not fathom at all the political gains Johan stood to make by marrying Ezellia. Johan could now rule the Count's domain with legitimacy in hand, needing no help or backing from the Order. They simply prayed to God that Johan would come to his senses and fall back out of love.
"M-my love. Are you all right?" "More or less. But I'd like you to act a little more naturally. Every time you carry on like that, the people around us are going to get suspicious." At Johan's words, Ezellia nodded frantically. From their very first meeting to this very moment, Johan had been fear itself — from his raw strength all the way to his seizure of the fief. All she could do was tremble and desperately scrape and bow. Every instant felt like walking on thin ice. "Ah. Tomorrow I'm going hunting with Amiens." "W-with Amiens? Why?" "She says she wants to go." The hunt of nobles — not that of hunters — was a rather expensive amusement. Soldiers would be dispatched to secure the surrounding area and drive monsters and game toward the party. Naturally, Ezellia had never permitted such extravagance. But Johan now had bored soldiers to spare, and hunting was well within their means. Ezellia's face drained white. A hunting ground was the finest place in the world to arrange a noble's accidental death. Was this because she had failed to play her part properly in front of the priests? "M-my love. I would like to accompany you as well." "Did you enjoy hunting? Ah, of course — you were a knight, after all. Forgive me, I wasn't very attentive." Johan said this as he stroked Ezellia's cheek. Her mind went blank, and she nodded.
The eastern warriors ran out whistling cheerfully. Word of the elf of House Bleuas had reached their ears as well. Amiens clung to Karamaph's back, wobbling unsteadily. "Now, careful. Karamaph doesn't like it when you pull too hard, either." -Grrr. "I'm sorry." "Hold on gently. There you go. Good. Well done. You're an elf, after all. You've a talent for riding." For a man of his natural gifts, Johan made a surprisingly decent teacher. Once she found her balance atop Karamaph, Amiens cackled with delight. Seeing this, Ezellia sank into confusion. It was nothing like what she had feared. Amiens had no need to put on such a performance just because Ezellia had joined the party. And the ease between them suggested far more than a meeting or two. "Amiens! You mustn't pester Lord Johan. Come here at once." "......" Amiens looked up at Johan with eyes full of longing. Johan spoke to Ezellia. "It's no bother at all. Couldn't you let her play a little longer?" "...V-very well." Amiens was stunned. The stern, unbending Ezellia, deferring so meekly to someone — it was the first time she had ever seen it. The girl's eyes sparkled with curiosity.