《The Dark Lord Gillian - Tales of Prompted Madness (Complete)》Chapter 128: Adventure Arc - Execution
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[WP] "I've never liked this part."
...
"I've never liked this part." A woman's voice spoke with a tone of irritation, from beyond the sack cloth which covered Arch-Bishop Rendol's head. A pair of rough hands grabbed at the silk of his shoulders, throwing him down heavily to a cold tile floor as the voice continued. "It's not something I take much pleasure in, but it's best I be the one to do it, rather than someone else."
"You're making a terrible mistake!" Rendol shouted, voice muffled through the scents of mold and dust. "I am Arch-Bishop of the Holy Church! I am a leader of the Faith, Chosen by the light itself!"
"I'm sure you are." Came the reply, as Rendol tried to pull himself up, struggling as his arms refused to cooperate. Tight against his wrists, rope cut in merciless on his skin.
"I'll have your head! Your head on a pike- you hear me!" Rendol turned, tone venomous as he blindly attempted to face the voice which mocked him through the fabric. "Any who dares lay hands on a Bishop like this is a heretic-" His words caught, surprise and pain stopping him as light flashed before his eyes- the hood drawn back with a brutal motion that spaced his face little kindness to the friction of rough fiber. "Who dares?" Rendol managed to sputter and squint, rage flaring- only to fall to sudden chill.
Illuminated from the domed window above, Rendol stared at the lone figure before him in the light, his breath catching. Within that threshold before total darkness and shadow, a pair of golden eyes stared back as him, fixed with perfect symmetry above the cruelest smile he had ever known.
"Is that anyway to address the Queen of your nation, Bishop Rendol?" The voice asked again, slender hand reaching out to grip his chin like a vice. "I'd have thought someone of your stature might show more... respect."
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"Q-Queen? Queen Aurum?" Rendol replied, disbelief evident as his face fumbled with emotions. Fear, shock, terror: The Queen's eyes stared down at him like an eagle eyeing a rodent. "Do you understand what it is that you do? Have you gone mad?"
"Mad? No, but I am quite angry." The vice tightened, pulling at his throat until Rendol's arms quivered- posture unable to righten itself further from the rough kneel he'd been forced. "For a man of Light and gods, your actions have been anything but holy, Bishop Rendol."
"Y-You!" The rage overtook the fear as Rendol's face contorted. "Royal authority has no hold upon the Church! We will crush you for this! Mark my words: When the other Bishops hear of this, by god-"
"The Church will do no such thing." She replied, cruel smile splitting to show white teeth beneath it, amused. "Rest assured."
"You dare! Kidnapping a Bishop, threatening a ranking official of the Faith!" Purple faced and spitting against the harsh grip at his neck, Rendol gasped, struggling to continue regardless. "They'll throw you to the heathens! To the felons to have their way with you! They'll strip you down, let the peasants have their fun until your legs run red! They'll hang you, and after that take your head-"
"Silence." The word came like an axe, falling down and cutting Rendol's own with a sudden violence and force. "You are here to stand trial, not spout idle threats of fantasy."
"Fantasy! My Queen- Nay, you Royal-blooded whore of an heir!" Rage came unfiltered now, as Rendol fought for every word. "You truly think you can get away with th-" Rendol suddenly found his face was back upon the tile, trickle of blood running down from his lip with the sudden shock of pain flourishing on his jaw. His ears rang, vision unsettled, but somewhere in the distance, a horrible growl sounded. A rumble like thunder, as thick paws wandered past, circling before seating themselves at the Queen's side.
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Two sets of Golden eyes stared at him now. One with indifference, and another with hunger.
"No more words, Rendol. You are here to be judged." The Queen stared at him, head tilting inquisitive as her right hand settled on the massive beast now seated beside her. "Not by the gods, nor the light, nor the Church or its court of many faithful, but by me."
"You shameless heretic!" Rendol growled, bloodied lip spraying spit and foam, "You filthy slut! Runt of the legacy, inheritor of the bloody throne! Left alive only because we allowed it!" Enraged, Rendol forced himself, legs quivering as he tried to rise once more, squirming on the floor until a one-legged kneel was the sum of his efforts. "You are doomed for this! Your house, your family name, your dignity! We will take it all!"
"We... now who is it you speak of?" The Queen lifted her hand, releasing the massive creature, a wolf, Rendol realized, to step into the shadows of the room once more. "Those same men in white robes who sent all those pretty silver knives on moonless nights?" Two Soldier dressed in black set down an ornate chair behind the Queen as she continued, sitting with a casual grace as they continued forward- pulling Rendol from his knees and lifting him as if he were nothing but a sack of rags. "Those same men who conspired to kill me, or have me married for my throne?" The soldiers dragged Rendol along, his bare feet trailing along the tile unable to find the slightest purchase for his struggles against them. "Those same men over there, perhaps?"
"What-" Rendol's foot found a surface to dig in- no longer tile, but soft, warm- cloth of some kind? As he looked down, his question caught, heave of horror overthrowing any chance of logic. A headless corpse lay in the shadows, pure white of the robes upon it all but soaked in the deep red of crimson.
"Are these the men you speak of?" From her chair, still brightly illuminated at the room's center beneath the thin circle of light, the Queen's smile held bitter humor. "Do pray tell."
"By the Gods!" Rendol shouted in horror, feet lifting and fumbling as the two men threw him down among the bodies before disappearing into the shadows of the room. "Light and heavens! You spawn of the West! You demon!"
"No, Bishop Rendol. I am no demon, and in this place there are no gods." From her throne, the smile fade, Rendol seeking her face from the shadows as he once again attempted to rise, slipping in the filth slick upon the tiled floor. "Here and now, there is only us mere mortals."
"You'll pay for this just like that precious fucking Captain of yours! Just like those armies you rallied! The Church has already won you foolish prick of an heir! What you do to me is meaningless!" Rendol shouted until his voice was hoarse and ragged. "This is but a battle won in a war you've lost! By now your soldiers will be slaughtered afield! Your Captain is dead! Your allies are sent to shallow graves!" As he stopped, chest heaving staring up from the bloodied floor, he saw only the faintest look of pity from afar.
"Oh, Bishop Rendol, so out of touch... I'm actually surprised how very wrong you happen to be." Turning her head ever so slightly, she nodded before another figure entered the light of the room, emerging from the shadows. "Isn't that so, Captain?"
Bishop Rendol's eyes barely had time to widen at the sight, before the words reached his ears.
"Kill him."
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That is true? Sorry, now it's false.
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