Chapter 23 - Trial for Peace

Abigail hearing her loyalists marching towards them gave her confidence that she would live another day. Unfortunately for her, once the crowd got nearer, their cry for her execution became louder.

Fear filled Abigail's eyes, demanding the boys what they had done to persuade the loyalists to their side. John pointed to the ceiling above them and claimed that all he had done was burn the obstruction from the pipes above them while William distracted him.

"You do have a beautiful voice. Undeniably your voice." William said, teasing her.

Abigail began to panic, realizing she could not deny her voice and what she said. No amount of reasoning or money will save her from the mob coming for her. Left with no option, she pulls out a poison vial from her garb. Luckily, William still uses his Sense's power and reacts faster than her. William grabbed the candy from his pocket and threw it in her fingers, causing Abigail to let go of the vial and crash onto the floor. Humiliated, she turned her blade to herself. The boys leaped and struggled long enough for the mob to arrive and subdue Abigail.

The loyalists wanted her dead, but the boys intervened and explained that killing her would bring them no closer to the truth. If she dies now, the other members of the Pentalium will have their identities hidden. The boys then removed their disguises and presented themselves as squires of Frosthold.

William reminded the crowd that they were here to parlay to end the Civil War. With Abigail out of the picture, they could put the past behind them and begin to rebuild. John led the people out of the mine while they closely watched their prisoner. As they arrived at the surface, the remaining loyalists were informed of what transpired and immediately surrendered to the Frosthold knights.

William opted to stay for a while and grabbed Abigail's belongings: the paper roll, her sword, and the stone slab. He returned to the mural and placed the stone where it belonged. There, he used his Sense once more. William was expecting the slab to reveal another story about their past. Instead, it formed only an image of a five-pronged star, and nothing was added to the context of the mural.

Fascinated by the rock's unique message, William finished Abigail's outline, traced the mural on the paper roll, and promised to solve this enigma one day.

Once they resurfaced, the Frosthold knights and their squires wasted no time organizing the people. The Silverhand's mansion was cleared, and they took everything they would submit before the Royal Court. Abigail was secured in a cage, and John was assigned to keep her alive until they reached the Capital. William led the march home while Berg and George followed them from behind the line.

Abigail's soldiers on the battlefield easily spot the large crowd traveling back to the Capital from the Silverhand estate. Once these soldiers learned the truth about what happened in the mines, they all reacted similarly: anger, despair, and shame. William can only imagine the weight of their tears, but if anything, that assures him the truth has set them free. Every camp they went to, more of their people could finally go home.

On the third day of their travel, William's Sense heard movements from within the thickest part of the forest.

"Heavy boots pacing. The horse rested upon the wet ground. Men of twenty made no move to neither attack nor approach us." William observed from afar.

Without looking back at his company, he activated his power to its full extent and reddened his eyes. There, he perceived the forest's darkness and saw the twenty knights. However, no crests or flags allowed William to distinguish what family they belonged to. But among them, he saw a man in the cloak with the same red eyes as his. Luckily, the man was not looking directly at William; his stare fell upon Abigail.

William reduces his powers and returns his eyes to their normal state. He keeps his Sense active just enough to hear if they approach. To William's surprise, the knights eventually leave, and the rustling of bushes and leaves leads them away from the group and back to the Capital.

After days of traveling, the company finally returned to the Capital without hiccups. They safely traveled across the forest and back to the Kingdom's center. Their approach was met with jubilation as they saw Abigail in a cage. The first ones to greet them were the Princess and the injured King, who congratulated the Frostholds for ending their Civil War.

The ex-loyalists feared the worst: They might serve time to pay for their atrocities, but The King was like a forgiving father. He immediately pardoned every loyalist who served Abigail. All were shocked, but the King said their nation had just ended its bloody turmoil, and the time to mend was now. Immediately, the King ordered Abigail's arrest. She was taken into a secured prison guarded by the King's and Princess' loyal and trusted men, waiting for her trial before the Court.

After two years of turmoil, the Kingdom finally experienced peace. The streets erupted in joyous celebration. Now, the wounds that Pentalium caused can finally heal.

The loud jubilation of the Kingdom invited its inhabitants to celebrate. But William knows their fight is far from over. The Princess invited her friends to her office. She was immediately briefed on what transpired at the Silverhand's estate, and the evidence they collected is piling up in her office.

"It looks like the boys earned their knighthood, " the Princess said as she praised them for their work. The two stood proud alongside their teachers.

"He would be proud of both of you, " she added as she clutched her hands close to her heart, wishing that Eldric could see what they had become.

William then grabs a paper from the pile of evidence and reminds the group this is the same quality and texture of that paper that ordered Eldric's death. He then revealed what he saw on their way back here: the tall man with red eyes like William's and was surrounded by knights.

The Princess nodded, but her confidence did not waver. "Abigail is under my protection. My father and I know these men. They have served us for years."

"Are you certain?" William pressed.

"Yes," she affirmed. "I will personally oversee her guard."

William claims he can identify the tall man if he sees him again. John reminds William that there are many tall knights in the Kingdom and that William will need to compare thousands of knights to identify one, but John assures his friend that he will ask spies for help.

"I get how the Princess got her spies, but how can you manage such a large group?" William is still in disbelief. How can John operate a network of spies and keep them loyal to him?

"Candies," John said, reminding his friend that he had also managed to get children from the Silverhands to cooperate with him with this simple trick.

"That's child labor and bribery," William said in retort. Then, the Princess interjected that she also uses bribery to extract information from her sources. Then the Frostholds also chime in and say that trading is their way to extract information from other men, especially wine and ale. They all look at William and ask when he will get his network of information. William replied that one day, when he got rich, he might extort people as they do. The room erupted with laughter as they began to relax and enjoy their small victory.

For a moment, they all forget the threat of Pentalium, and the boys feel at peace with their family.

A week later, the Royal Court convened for Abigail’s trial.

William and John stood beside George and Berg as the courtroom filled with knights, merchants, and common folk. The jury was a mix—former loyalists, grieving families of plague victims, and those who had suffered under Abigail’s rule.

The tension was palpable. Abigail, bound in chains, stood in the center of the room. Four knights flanked her, ready for anything.

The Princess opened the proceedings, calling witnesses who had heard Abigail’s confessions in the mines. Some in the jury dismissed it as folklore, unwilling to believe in conspiracies and lost civilizations.

Then, the Princess presented the evidence. Letters written on expensive Eastern paper, sent to Abigail by Margaret, detailing plague reports and the work on a cure. Instructions for her servants to destroy the tea supply that had soothed the sick. Murmurs of anger rippled through the crowd.

Abigail scoffed. "How do you know these letters weren’t tampered with? They’ve been in your office for days. How do we know they’re not forgeries?"

The Princess responded by demonstrating the properties of the Eastern paper. She handed a quill to a jury member. As they tried to write, the paper tore. Gasps filled the chamber. "Our Kingdom does not use this kind of parchment," the Princess explained. "It is rare, expensive, and not suited for our quills."

She gestured to a box of ink bottles, brushes, and quills taken from Abigail’s estate. "But with a brush—" she dipped one in ink and wrote her name smoothly on the parchment. "—this paper works just fine."

The jury whispered among themselves, realization setting in.

Abigail remained silent. Her confidence wavered, but her gaze shifted to the Frostholds and their squires. A twisted pride gleamed in her eyes as she searched the crowd. Then, she found him—the leader of the Pentalium, hidden in the audience. He nodded to signal his approval.

And Abigail grinned.

"I give up," she said, her voice laced with something almost triumphant. "I shall confess everything."

"What you heard was true. I am a descendant of Zonian. We survived many generations and have reformed a new order to disrupt and challenge your Kingdom—our revenge. The Pentalium order!” Abigail sneered before the Court.

A stunned silence filled the chamber.

William's pulse quickened. Something was wrong. Abigail had spent all this time trying to protect the truth—so why was she suddenly so eager to confess? His fists clenched as he watched her every move.

"It's true. Margaret controlled the rats and spread the plague through the Kingdom using the wine trade. I replicated the cure to gain power over the people's trust. Everything you accused me of? All of it is true!" Abigail shouted, her voice filled with a twisted pride.

"What is the Pentalium's goal? Who are your members?!" the King demanded.

Abigail's eyes slid toward the Frostholds. A smirk curled on her lips as she locked her gaze on William. Slowly, her pupils widened, turning blood-red.

Gasps filled the courtroom. The jury recoiled. Some staggered back in horror, clutching their chests in fear. The sight of her unnatural transformation sent whispers rippling through the crowd.

Then, Abigail spoke again, her voice smooth as silk but laced with venom.

"You killed my forefathers and stole the land we rightfully owned. You thought you wiped us out. But you failed. You may have slain two of us, but there are more of my kin among you. Hiding. Watching. Waiting. We will strike again when you least expect it."

The courtroom erupted in panic. People turned on each other, suspicion festering like an open wound. Abigail's list of names—exiled royals, merchants, noble houses—ignited immediate chaos. Accusations flew. The gavel pounded, but the noise drowned it out.

William and John could only grip their swords, watching helplessly as the trial spiraled into madness.

Then—

"ENOUGH!" The King's voice thundered across the hall, cutting through the chaos.

Silence fell.

His eyes swept the room, cold and unyielding. "This is exactly what Abigail wanted—to turn us against one another, just as she did before. She divided us once and led us to war. Will you let her do it again?"

Rolfe stepped forward, nodding firmly. "Her game is deception. We must not play into her hands."

But the damage was done. The courtroom was restless, uneasy. The seed of doubt had already been planted.

The King let out a slow breath before turning to his daughter. "Bring the Book."

The Princess lifted the heavy tome—The Book of the Inquisition.

A wave of dread passed over the older nobles and knights. Some paled at the sight of it. Others clenched their jaws as if reliving old wounds.

Berg exhaled sharply with regret and pain.

William exchanged a look with John. What was this book? Why did it hold such weight?

Rolfe took a step forward. "My liege, must we go this far?"

The King's expression darkened. "Our forces are tired, our generals stretched thin. We cannot afford another civil war within our walls. We need someone who has faced this kind of infiltration before. Someone who knows how to root out the enemy hidden among us."

A murmur spread through the Court as realization dawned.

The King's gaze swept across the room. "Forty years ago, our Kingdom nearly fell—not from swords on the battlefield, but from betrayal within. You all remember the war with the Sand People. You remember how they crept into our cities and found sympathizers in our halls. You remember how they nearly brought us to ruin."

A grim silence followed. No one dared to deny it.

The King continued, "We were saved not just by the armies on the field, but by one man within our walls—the man who uncovered their spies, exposed their networks, ensured that our Kingdom did not fall from within."

He rested his hand on the Book of the Inquisition. "You may call him a monster. You may curse his name for the blood he spilled. But without him, we would not be standing here today."

The Princess took a deep breath. "It is time to call upon him again."

A heavy silence followed. Then, slowly, the knights and jury members nodded one by one.

"For those in favor of granting the Inquisitor the power to investigate freely, to root out the Pentalium's influence, to defend the Kingdom from this hidden war?" the Princess called out.

A resounding "Aye."

And with that, the Inquisition was reborn.