Realm of the dead, p.8
Realm of the Dead, page 8
part #1 of Empire Paladin Series
The steward scowled and snorted. “One moment.” He walked back down the corridor and stopped at one of the men-at-arms posted at a side entrance.
The man-at-arms saluted and strode off down the hall gathering other soldiers along the way. The steward sidled back over to Camila. Presently the man-at-arms returned with a phalanx of soldiers in tow, all of them bristling with weapons and armor.
“We shall see the Duke now, m’lady” the steward smiled.
One of the heavy, wooden doors to the throne chamber was opened and the steward glided through. Camila followed him. The phalanx of soldiers also came through behind them.
Making sure Camila was out of earshot, the steward leaned close to the master-at-arms as he came through door. “Should she make any hostile move against the Duke, do not hesitate to bring her down even if you have to kill her,” he whispered.
Seated upon his throne in the center of the room, the Duke viewed the entire entourage with a mixture of mild annoyance and contempt. Tapping his fingers against the armrests of his throne, he fidgeted and adjusted his body as if he could not get quite comfortable in the seat. Thrusting out a hand, he took up a wine goblet that was on a table next to his throne and took a quick drink.
The Duke, a thin, young man perhaps only a few years older than Camila, possessed blonde, wavy hair and a boyish, beardless face that caused him to appear still a teenager. He was dressed in fine garments; a white silk shirt, a rich velvet coat of deep burgundy, silk stockings, and black leather shoes with buckles. Atop his head, he bore a round, felt, black cap with a white plume. Many rings of gold, encrusted with jewels, adorned his fingers. His flinty, grayish-blue eyes never blinked as he watched Camila enter the throne room. The Duke sat upon his throne with an air of cold imperiousness, a look of obvious disdain upon his face.
Duke Frederick II (not to be confused with Emperor Frederick II, the ruler of the entirety of the Holy Roman Empire) was both the Duke of Austria and the Duke of Styria—a neighboring duchy to the southeast. The Duke was also known as Frederick the Quarrelsome and Frederick the Warlike due to his antagonist behavior against neighboring countries; wars mainly with Bohemia, Bavaria, and Hungary. A very ambitious man, his belligerence had caused a falling out between himself and the Emperor several years ago. He had recently worked himself back into the good graces of the Emperor and was again looking to expand his rule.
The steward came forth and addressed the Duke. “My Lord, may I present to you the paladin, Lady Camila Chastaine, of the Holy Church of Rome.”
Camila stepped forward and bowed in respect. She had briefly met the Duke when first assigned to this realm and had spoken with him on a few occasions in the past, but Camila doubted that he remembered those meetings.
“Ah, yes, Lady Chastaine,” the Duke’s voice was high and reedy. He studied the group of soldiers that had formed a half-circle at the back of the room. “Quite the escort for a paladin of our beloved Holy Church, I must wager,” Duke Frederick observed dryly. “One might believe her to be any enemy of the realm rather than an ally.”
The steward moved quickly up to the Duke’s right and whispered quietly, “She is armed, my Lord.”
The Duke glanced briefly at the hammer at Camila’s side, and then responded to his steward, “I’m certain she will give no trouble.”
Duke Frederick beckoned to Camila. “Come up, m’lady. Come closer so that I might more easily speak with you.”
Camila advanced to within a few yards of the throne and bowed again. “Your esteemed lordship, it is a great honor to be in your royal presence.”
“Just as well, Lady Chastaine. What I wished to have word with you is the services your paladin Order has brought to my realm. We are grateful for the assistance you have provided.”
Camila nodded. “We serve to deal out justice to those that would do evil and terrorize the Duke’s subjects, my lord.”
“Yes. And that is what I wish to speak to you about.” The Duke paused, his finger tapping against his lips. “You see, Lady Chastaine, I have been informed that you did put to death a certain man of perhaps unsavory repute…uh…what was the name again…?”
“Herman Lamarr, “the steward provided.
“Ah, yes, our late good sir, Lamarr. Is that correct, Lady Chastaine?”
“Yes, that is correct my lord.”
“And by what right did you have to put him to death, Lady Chastaine?”
“Our Holy Father in Heaven does charge me with so doing, my lord.”
The Duke’s eyes widened. “The man had beaten a woman, Lady Chastaine. How does that justify a sentence of death?”
“Perhaps you have been misinformed, my lord,” replied Camila. “He had raped her and beaten her in so great a manner that she would have died had it not been for the healing power of our Lord God in Heaven that I did administer. No medicine or skill known to any of this realm would have saved her life. He did kill her for all intents and purposes, Your Grace, but for my fortuitous intervention. That is why the sentence of death was carried out.”
The Duke sat back in his throne, pondering. “Would you be interested to know that the woman he had beaten—the wife—his wife…uh…what was her name again?”
“Katta,” supplied Steward Percy.
“Yes, Katta. Would you be interested to know that Katta was stunned to find out her husband is now dead and that she is extremely upset about it? She believes that she is to blame for his death.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Camila. “Her safety and protection was my first priority. At that time and for the future.”
“Yes, and now she’s a widow,” the Duke responded caustically. “She no longer has the status of being a wife without her husband. She no longer has anyone to care and provide for her.”
Camila scoffed. “Herman hardly provided for her. Regardless, I shall see to it myself that she is taken care of.”
The Duke regarded her for a moment, eyes blinking rapidly. “Yes, I’ve no doubt the Church will be charitable to this unfortunate woman.” The Duke leaned forward in his throne, new intensity in his eyes and posture. “Lady Chastaine, you and your fellow paladins are to assist in the maintaining of order. I and my delegated council of magistrates carry out the judgments of crimes such as this.”
Camila locked her gaze with the Duke’s. “My Lord, I do hear you and your words, but I must again repeat that my charge is given to me by God and God alone.”
The Duke eyes now blazed with fury, his hands curling into fists. “Lady Chastaine! When God sees fit to come down to sit upon this throne and administer the laws and pass judgments upon each and every transgressor ranging from the most frivolous pickpocket to the truly contemptible murderer, then I shall be ready to relinquish my rule. But seeing as how God has not afforded his time to as such, then I will say to you again, and I will not repeat myself, I am the law of this land! I will hear the crimes and I will administer the judgments. Are we understood, Lady Chastaine?!”
Camila smiled briefly and gave a short, cursory, nod. The Duke was being overly dramatic as he would never grant his time to pass judgment on a pickpocket or any such similar, lowly crime. Those tasks were delegated to the local magistrates, but Camila decided it would not be wise to comment on his exaggeration.
The Duke beckoned Camila closer to his throne so that only the two of them would bear witness to his next words. “Lady Chastaine, I will be quite frank with you. The killing of a man such as Herman Lamarr matters very little to me other than an infringement upon my rule. Personally, I believe he deserved to die and am glad to be rid of him; as I’m positive many others will neither miss him as well.”
Camila’s brows furrowed as she tried to discern the Duke’s intentions.
The Duke took in a deep breath and continued. “It just so happens that one of my councilmen, Chancellor DeRais, has been missing for some time. It is very unlike him to fail to report to his duties. You haven’t come across him by chance have you?”
Camila frowned slightly, “I don’t recall having seen him of late, your lordship.”
The Duke sat back in his throne, tapping the forefingers of his hands together in front of his lips as he measured the paladin with his eyes. “What is equally perplexing is that we discovered a corpse in some hills nearby, lashed to a tree and horribly burned from the looks of it. You wouldn’t know anything about that now would you, Lady Chastaine?”
“I’m afraid that I am quite useless in this matter, sire,” she responded curtly.
“That’s odd…since it is a well-known practice that the Holy Church executes the greatest sinners by burning them at the stake. We don’t execute people in that manner in my realm, Camila. We behead them, we hang them, we draw and quarter them, but we don’t burn them. That practice is specific to the Church and seeing as your part of the Church…” He trailed off, the implication clear.
“Again, your Highness, I am afraid I am simply wasting your time,” Camila replied.
“You see, Lady Chastaine, I can account for the whereabouts of your friends when Chancellor DeRais was last seen. But I can’t account for where you were or what you were doing…”
Camila pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly becoming annoyed and impatient with this banter. “Do you know if the corpse was indeed Chancellor DeRais,” she asked.
“The body was burned beyond recognition. However, we found this in the ashes.” The Duke reached into a fold in his robes and produced a soot-covered, golden, signet ring. “This is the Chancellor’s signet ring, which he uses to seal his parchments,” the Duke informed brusquely.
Camila blinked dispassionately at the Duke. “I would venture a guess that the ring puts to rest any doubt of it being the Chancellor.”
“Obviously, Camila, but what I’m still wondering about is if you were involved in his unfortunate demise.”
“As I have already informed Your Highness, I know naught of the circumstances of the councilman’s death.”
“And what of the circumstances surrounding Baron Gilles’s death? Would you know anything about that?” the Duke asked with a raised eyebrow.
Camila flinched slightly at the mention of the late baron’s name. She had not expected Duke Frederick to have any knowledge of that nobleman’s untimely fate. Baron Gilles had been an advisor and commander of a legion of knights for King Wenceslaus of the realm Bohemia. More than three years had passed since Baron Gilles, or rather the blackened corpse of what remained of him, had been found tied to a charred and smoldering oak tree.
Duke Frederick’s eyes narrowed as he perceived Camila’s startled reaction to the sound of the baron’s name. “I’ve researched your history, Lady Chastaine. I know that you’ve served duty in Bohemia for King Wenceslaus. What an odd coincidence that you happened to be assigned to that realm when the unfortunate baron met his demise by being burned to death in much the same manner as our Chancellor DeRais. Don’t you believe that is an odd coincidence, Lady Chastaine?”
The face of Baron Gilles came into Camila’s memory, that putrid, vile spawn of nobility. Camila had discovered that the baron fancied himself a master dungeon-torturer and would abduct unsuspecting children from the local serfs and commonfolk within the realm of Bohemia. He then conducted hideous, unimaginable, acts of torture upon those same helpless children.
As the depraved, nobleman had made another foray into the surrounding hamlets to seek out a fresh victim on which to conduct his foul deeds, Camila had waited until the baron and his bodyguards were out of sight of any passerby. Not suspecting an attack from a paladin of the Holy Church, the bodyguards were taken completely by surprise when Camila’s warhammer had smashed into their helms, cracking their skulls, and sending their brain matter oozing from the wounds. The baron had tried to flee, kicking, biting and flailing his limbs wildly. A few blows of Camila’s warhammer breaking the baron’s knees had ended any possibility of his flight.
When Camila had lashed him to the tree, Baron Gilles had begged, cried, and screamed to be freed as Camila had piled the branches and tinder about his legs. Camila found it ironic in how he had beseeched her for mercy, yet had never provided any to his own tragic victims. But that was the fundamental essence of evil.
The most satisfying sound of the baron’s wailings had been his high-pitched shriek as he burned; his skin blistering and the fat popping from the intense heat of the flames.
Camila now met the stern gaze of Duke Frederick without blinking. “There were many enemies and conspirators against King Wenceslaus whilst I served under his rule,” she told him. “There were constant threats against him, his family, and his royal court. It was not a surprise when they found the commander of the king’s knights dead. Which reminds me…if I do recall correctly…you yourself were not on the best of terms with King Wenceslaus when he sent armies to invade Austria and ran you off your throne for a time.”
“Is that an accusation?” the Duke asked icily.
“Of course not, my lord,” replied Camila. “Just an observation that King Wenceslaus had...” She paused for emphasis. “…enemies.”
Duke Frederick regarded Camila for a few moments, eyes filled with malice. “I guess that concludes our conversation,” he finally declared.
Camila turned to take her leave.
“Oh, Lady Chastaine, you may want to keep this.” The Duke reached out and handed Camila the gold ring of Chancellor DeRais. “Perhaps as a trophy…”
Camila looked at the ring. A vision of flames danced across the metal band of the ring. She was amazed that it had not sustained greater damage. Perhaps it had fallen off before the hottest flames could touch it and melt it into an indiscernible chunk of gold.
“I neither desire nor need this item, good sir.” Camila stretched out her hand to return the ring. The Duke did not make any effort to extend his hand to take back the ring.
Camila let her hand open slowly as she tilted it. Soon the ring clattered to the floor.
Paying no attention to Camila’s method of discarding the ring, Duke Frederick stated firmly, cold fury in his voice, “Lady Chastaine, I want to make sure you realize that I will not tolerate, for even an instant, any attempt to usurp my rule. Do we understand one another?”
“Your Highness, I believe that we understand each other.”
“So you recognize my authority?”
“I recognize the authority bestowed upon mortals and the authority of our Father Who Art in Heaven.”
The Duke’s eyes narrowed and he tapped his fingers on the armrests of his throne. “Will you obey the Duke’s law, paladin?”
“I recognize the Duke’s law, Your Majesty. Be that as it may, there is no higher law than the law of God.”
The Duke scowled and ground his teeth. “I will not warn you again, Lady Chastaine.”
“So noted, Your Highness.”
“Then you are dismissed. Get you from my sight, paladin.”
Camila bowed and made to depart the throne room. Pausing, she turned back and addressed Duke Frederick. “I nearly forgot that I have something for you, your Highness.” Camila reached into the pouch at her belt and withdrew a gold coin. She tossed it to Duke Frederick who deftly caught it. He did not bother to inspect it.
“It just so happens, Your Grace, that we recently intercepted several members of the Golden Horde that we believe were part of the raiding parties up from Zagreb. They were carrying a great deal of crown gold. A great deal of crown gold. Your crown inscribed upon the coins just like the one you have in your hand now, as it were, Your Majesty. In all my years as a paladin, I’ve never come across any band of brigands or thieves that had that much gold in their possession, stolen or otherwise.”
“And what of it?” the Duke retorted dismissively.
“I do so hope this was stolen gold and not gold to be used in the bargaining of a peace agreement with an enemy of the Empire, Your Highness.”
Duke Frederick could have been carved from stone in how still he sat upon his throne.
“You would do well to refrain from accusing the Duke of treasonous bribery, paladin,” Steward Percy warned her. “That is, if you still want your head to be connected to your shoulders.”
“I’d like to see how the Duke would explain to the Holy Church and to the Emperor, how a paladin lost her head while in his service,” Camila replied, her eyes never leaving the Duke’s.
Duke Frederick regarded Camila without so much as batting an eyelash. “I’d wager we both know that the Empire has few teeth and even fewer claws at this time, is that not so, Lady Chastaine?” A small smile cracked the stone face of the Duke. “I’m not so much concerned about what the Empire believes is in the best interests of my realm. I will do what is best for my realm, my people, and my ability to rule.”
He waved a hand at her, shooing her away. “I have dismissed you paladin. Do not tarry a moment longer lest you wish to invoke my wrath.”
Camila bowed again, turned and strode from the throne room.
The steward watched her departure, then turned and whispered to the Duke, “My Lord, what do you wish done with her?”
“See to it that she does not live out the week. Something quick and quiet. Make sure her body is never found and make sure there are no witnesses. You know what I mean by that. We still need the support of the Empire even if it is on the brink of ruin.”
“Yes, my lord,” replied the steward.
* * *
Camila emerged from the castle and walked swiftly down the stone steps. Atrael and Talitha were waiting for her.
“So I see you still have your head upon your shoulders,” Talitha sniped.
“Hah!” Camila blurted. “And had I lost my head, it would have taken a lot more than your healing powers to save me. It would have taken a miracle of God.”
“I believe God may be out of miracles where you are concerned, Camila.”
Camila untethered her mount and hoisted herself into the saddle. “And why would that be, my dear Talitha?”
“You seem to believe yourself to be the hand of God, not a servant,” stated Talitha.
