Entry 10

It wasn't difficult to connect the disappearance of Madi with that of essentially all of Fort Sinder. In the days when Tresin remained a minor farming village, the best place to search for answers would have been the main hall; where the village leader lived, and where all major decisions were made. As if much governance was really necessary in such a small, impoverished backwater.

Our walk back to the central courtyard proved much calmer than the previous one, meaning James finally had the opportunity to talk rather than simply wheeze and pant like a sickly mutt. He took that chance rather quickly.

"Empty fortress, Madi disappearing...what if those two are connected?"

He walked with a slight limp; apparently the catching up process had included a hard landing for his ankle. Despite that, our pace remained steady. Caution seemed a better path than reckless abandon at the moment, as it happened to support the main goal of keeping our heads in their proper places. We carefully eyed every corner, every alley, and every potential hideaway through the deserted market, doing our best not to notice the eerie unease that rose with each step forward.

Following a painfully slow stroll through the market, a foreboding building came into view. Tall, multi-storied, expertly-shaped stone blocks making up the structure; definitely a military design. Unpleasant memories of the command complex at Garved rushed back, giving me a hefty reminder of just one of the reasons I had chosen to leave that life behind. Too much time was spent making war for Bovica, and too little time was left for making peace in it. That had to be where the settlement's leader would be.

As me and James approached the massive oaken doors to enter the hall, a guard stood on each side; one leaned on the pommel of his half-rusty sword, while the other stood at attention with a spear in hand. They glanced at us, before the one leaning on his pommel tilted his head towards the door with a grin that sent my unease even further.

We were expected.

One way or another, whatever lay beyond that door would have answers for us. For me. Pushing hard on the heavy wood, it swung open at a crawl. The scene within made the effort seem less than worth it.

A large vaulting ceiling soared high above, held up by a crisscrossed web of beams and structural supports. Stained glass windows decorated the upper sections of the walls, letting sunlight stream in and brighten the hall through a wide variety of colors. It was vaguely reminiscent of the High Cathedral in Garved, but at a much smaller scale; with all the coin funneled into it, I doubt the existence of any building as grand in all of Lendos. As I write this, the High Cathedral has been gone nigh on thirty years now; the rebellion decided to strip it for all it's gilded parts and use them for something actually helpful to the starving populace. But in it's day, it was glorious.

On either side of the lengthy hall were people standing shoulder to shoulder, packed into makeshift rows while staring at us with a mix of glee and disgust as we entered. Seated in a intricately carved wooden throne at the far end, the former mayor of Tresin smiled at us with more than a hint of unpleasantness behind his expression. He had been in his forty-second year when I first left the town behind, but now was getting closer to fifty; and it had begun to show. Where previously his hair had been short-cropped and light brown, the years had lengthened it and colored his hair more white than brown.

And kneeling before him with hands and feet bound by rope, facing the door to allow us a better view of their captive, lay my mother.

"Ah! I was wondering when you would get here. We are so glad that you could join us!" said the mayor, extending his right hand towards us in a form of mock greeting. "Now that you've arrived, we may begin the proceedings."

The door closed with a resounding thump behind us, with one of the guards locking it before standing watch to the right of the door. We were trapped.

Rising from his throne, all eyes were drawn to him. He wielded that commanding sort of presence even before Bovica took Tresin hostage, but the years of suffering transformed that presence into a weapon rather than a shield. And unfortunately, that weapon now aimed to see us suffer as well.

"Madi of Nowhere, you are a traitor to Tresin. If I could gather every person you wronged into this room, I would; but alas, nearly half of them are dead or gone. Yet some remain, and those few have been brought here to discover the full extent of your crimes openly and lawfully."

He grinned at his own sick joke; I knew that the only kind of laws abided here would be the laws of revenge and vigilante justice. Spreading his arms wide to encompass all those present, he started the trial off with a bang.

"So. Who would like to speak first?"