They dragged the defendant forcibly to the Judgment Bar in front of the King's throne.
"You will have your day in court, now!" said the Bailiff.
The man charged struggled briefly, but when he saw the King whose eyes suddenly met his -- he froze and stopped his thrashing about. The King, wise and powerful that he was, appeared sickly. His skin was pale compared to the bright colors of his attire. Still, there seemed a deep, strong power in him: a will to live and a will to judge.
"What is this man's charge?" asked the king in a level tone of voice -- clearly disdainful of the man's behavior.
Suddenly, out of the crowd opposite the judgment bar stepped none other than the chief magistrate himself!
"Chancellor!" said the King happily. "What brings you here, old friend?"
"Oh King, friend King, dear King. This man's charge is as serious as our situation in the south of your kingdom. This man is a half breed somehow created by Baron Ralford, now called Isvul by his people."
The crowd was stunned. They gasped and cried out. The King's eyes widened and he sat up as best he could. The magistrate, who by then had captivated the whole audience, continued with his address.
"This man is charged with raping an elven girl."
More gasps followed. Murmuring could be heard in the audience also.
"The Forest Elves captured him and did battle with five more of his kind yesterday. He claimed to be of us. All this tells us that the Baron is on the move against us all and you my King."
The King's face turned beet red with anger and he stood up to address the audience, as was his habit to so when important cases came before him.
"My people, dear people," implored the King, "the Forest Elves are our friends. You all know that they are the first-borne of God our Father and once settled all this land before men were made in the East. You know that they have signed the Accord with us, that they now come under our protection, and have come to our aid in times past. This sin is most ... most..."
The King's voice trailed off and his face turned white. Astonishingly, there appeared just above and behind the King a small red apparition with horns. It bent over and touched the King on the shoulder. The King collapsed. Shockingly, a young man dressed in grey robes leapt out of the crowd and attacked the spectre with his staff. He and his staff appeared to shine with a white glow that almost blinded all who gazed upon him. He cried out in a loud voice:
"Take that! In the name of God be gone to from whence you came!" I
The apparition hunched over in pain as the staff connected solidly twice. Then it screamed out. "No! No! Not there, not there..."
Finally, its substance faded and it uttered a pitiful cry that slowly became a whisper as it was sent to torment. The Bailiff drew his sword. The young man shook his robes. Reassuring himself that he was not harmed, he then touched the forehead of the King. The Bailiff let go his charge and stepped up to where the King lay.
"Is my King... is he..."
"Not yet!" answered the young man sharply.
The king opened his eyes although he moved only his lips. "I am so sick... so sick..."
The young man stood up and raised his staff. The Magistrate, and all the people who were in the audience, who were overwhelmed, fell to their knees with their heads bowed as if in prayer. Before the young man could speak; however, The accused yelled out:
"You will never defeat Isvul, never... Nehhhhver..."
The Bailiff and his men reached out, caught him about the mouth, and held him down. Then all kept silent as the young man spoke:
"I am a prophet of God from the Monestary. You are innocent of the things that are affecting you. A great Evil has risen in the south. It is about to strike out and capture our Land and all of us. You can see with your own eyes that Evil has made the King sick, and indeed he will die if brave men do not rise up in the name of God and destroy what menaces us. I will go before the altar behind me -- our altar, which has not had a Priest now for twelve years; and I will pray for guidance and help that we sorely need."
With that the prophet turned, went up, and kneeled before the altar and prayed. All were silent.
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© Copyright 2001 by Abram Paradies.
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