《Deadman (A Post-Apoc Litrpg)》Book 3 Ch 49: Small Comforts
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I stepped into the Honored Dead’s chambers, following Nix and flanked by the entombed on either side of me, as well as walking behind me. The council themselves were all arrayed in their usual positions in a semicircle from which they regarded whoever entered. Mama was seated to my left, then clockwise were Kit, Julian, Solomon, and finally Jim. Mama seemed animated and alert, likely still coming down from her debate performance, but she had no smiles or warm greetings for me as she had in the past. She’d already wrapped me in a hug when I arrived, but now she held back. Kit was looking considerate, as was typical, Julian regarded me with a small smile, and Solomon, now missing a foot, though it looked to have been treated. He was focused on me, and in spite of the pain he was clearly in he managed to keep his expression neutral, even as Jim cast frequent looks of concern in his direction.
Julian spoke first. “First, Nix, Daisy, Entombed, thank you for bringing Donovan back to us to stand trial. And thank all of you for aiding in the defense of Pott’s. We’d heard chatterings that they may attempt something to disrupt us during the debate, but we didn’t expect them to be able to reach us here.” He shook his head. “So many resources were wasted defending our smaller outposts and allies under the assumption we could ignore our own defenses.” He turned his attention fully to me. “Donovan. You know why you have been brought before us?”
I nodded. “For taking out the trash.”
I saw Solomon’s expression shift suddenly and he slammed his fist on the table. “You attacked fellow deadmen! Slaughtered their leader! Drove an entire people to ruin!”
“A people who enslaved humans and other deadmen, who ate human and deadman flesh, who hated us, and whose leader plotted our destruction. Who exiled their own people into a cloud of madness and despair for them to languish within forever.”
Solomon went to stand, but grimaced as he was reminded of his injury. “With everything happening to us here, Eden may have been the only place left that was safe for Deadmen! And you removed that possibility. Destroying their gate! Releasing their slaves and encouraging them to rebel! Unleashing a monster from the wastes around their enclave!”
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I shook my head. “I will not apologize for releasing their slaves.”
“You’re sorry for the other actions you took then?” asked Kit.
“No.” I paused. “I don’t recall anything about releasing a monster though. Who told you that? Who are my accusers?”
Solomon nearly spat on the ground, but held back when he remembered he was in what many Deadmen considered a sacred place. “If you don’t deny the majority of the accusations, what is the point of you seeing your accusers?”
“Do you deny any of these accusations Donovan?” asked Julian.
I shook my head. “Only the one of unleashing a monster on them. Sounds like a beast from the Cut may have made its way to them on its own. I don’t deny the accusations, but I do want to know who my accusers are. You don’t know these people, what they’re capable of.”
Mama shook her head. “How could we Donovan? You didn’t give us the chance to meet them for ourselves, judge them ourselves. I don’t deny that your assessment was accurate, your accusers themselves have more than admitted much of what you’ve told us, but you are just one person, you can’t make the decisions for everyone else.”
“That’s what we’re already doing to the rest of the wastes, how is this any different? I made the choice that was necessary to ensure that we survive. Eden couldn’t be trusted.”
Julian stood up. “If you don’t deny the charges, we don’t really have a choice, Donovan. We need to consider exile. Tomorrow, you will face your accuser, and the people of Pott’s will come forward to make the case either for or against you.”
Kit shook her head. “Can we really consider this?” She asked. “Even with what he’s done, Donovan is an asset. Traditions, laws, what about survival? Can we afford to lose him?”
“Put me through it.” I said, surprising everyone. “I’m not above Pott’s and its traditions. Try me as you would anyone else.”
Kit nodded, and sat back in her chair.
“Very well. We will give a day to those who wish to speak for or against you to gather before we of the Honored Dead pass judgment. Your trial shall begin at dawn.” Julian nodded at the entombed. “Escort him to Nico’s, and keep him under guard. I do not believe he would seek to avoid judgment, but I do believe he would seek to find his accusers prior to tomorrow. Do not allow him to do so.”
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I raised an eyebrow at Julian. He was savvy, as always. I had been considering doing just that if left to wander freely, though I’d doubted that was going to be a possibility.
With Julian’s final words, I was escorted from the Honored Dead’s meeting chamber and through the city to Nico’s house. We drew a number of stares, though in general everyone seemed too busy with recovering after the Remnant attack to really bother with what we were doing. I did notice a number of younger deadmen and women making their way to the perimeter of Pott’s, cerberus las-rifles slung under their arms, and grim determination on their faces. Up until this point the patrols, and guards had been more about preparing mentally for war, getting deadmen and women acquainted with weaponry and duty. Now it was no longer an exercise, but a necessity.
In general there was a kind of grimness settling over the city. Pott’s was a place that reveled in the macabre, but was in actuality a kind and friendly city to live in. Now that true violence was with us, that sense of macabre had taken on a different tone.
We arrived at Nico’s plain house, still standing out for its lack of ostentation, and I knocked on the door. Nico opened the door, looked over everyone, her eyes settling on me, and sighed. She was covered in dirt, her hands cut and dusty, and I could tell that she had been assisting with the recovery. I could smell coffee in a cup on the ground in front of the couch, and I could see a book hanging over it’s edge.
Nico cracked her neck and started walking inside. “I’ll grab my gun, what’s going on, is there another attack?” She paused. “If there was another attack, why would you be here?” Her voice sounded tired, she was clearly exhausted.
“They escorted me here. They brought me here for crimes I committed against Eden. I know I didn’t tell you about it,” I lied, “but I’m on trial for it tomorrow. To decide whether or not I’ll be Exiled.”
She stood still for a moment, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She moved back to her couch, drained her coffee, and then walked back. “Come in. I’ll make you coffee.” She looked over the Entombed. “You all can’t fit in here. Why don’t you take shifts, and I’ll make whichever of you stays some coffee.” She squinted. “Daisy, come in and cook. I’m too damned tired, and you’ve just brought me a bunch of bullshit I don’t want to deal with.”
Daisy nodded, ordered four of her men to leave and come back later, and she herself went into the kitchen after stepping out of her armor.
Nico sat, placed her book back in one of the many stacks littering the apartment, and gestured to the couch for me to sit down. I obliged, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Nico had always reacted strongly when I’d done something like this, but at the same time, she’d already known what I’d done. I expected a lecture, or even a slap, but how casually she was taking everything took me by surprise.
She came back to the couch, ignoring the Entombed who were crouched down, trying to find ways to sit that wouldn’t cause books to tumble or paintings to fall off walls, and mostly succeeding. She handed me a cup of coffee, and gave me a hug.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
I blinked, surprised by the question. I took a long sip of coffee. I’d given a lot to Pott’s and still felt like I owed them everything. The idea of being Exiled… it wouldn’t stop me. I would survive, I would keep fighting for them even if they did decide that was my fate. Still, the idea of it…
I shook my head. “Not really.”
She nodded. “That’s okay. Whatever happens, I’ve got your back. I know Deux does too.”
I shook my head. “If I’m exiled, you won’t be allowed to speak to me anymore.”
She laughed. “They’re not going to exile someone for talking to an exile. Even if they did…” she paused. “You’re the only family I’ve got.”
I laughed. “That sounded really weird how you said it.”
She smiled. “It felt as weird as it sounded… still true though.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
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