Brother of the Desert Rats

Forgive Me

"Zaelan, son of Ryon, has been found guilty and will await his sentence. The trial is over until further notice."

There was a loud smack as the judge brought the hammer down. Zaelan flinched. He did not raise his head as he felt the light breeze of the judge sweeping by in his long robes. Nor did he look up as an officer shoved him forward. Not even when he heard the sound of a female weeping. It was most likely his little sister, Maya, or even worse, his mother.
But Zaelan was beyond caring. His eyes were fixed upon his chained hands. He could almost see the crimson stain upon them, feel the liquid trickling down his fingers, hear the blood-curdling cries.
His vision blurred and a shudder ran up his spine. He stumbled as he was pushed again, this time through a doorway and back into his cramped cell. The door slammed behind him and he heard the bolt slide in place. He sank wearily onto the half rotted bench and buried his face into his hands.
It's over, you fool. They will execute you for sure. You will be lucky if they hang you, instead of using you for training the young archers. You fool. You stupid fool.
He beat his hands against his head. It wasn't just a self-inflicted punishment but also to get that taunting voice from his head. The sound of a key rattling in the lock, brought him abruptly back to his surroundings.

The cell door was being opened and a tall bearded man was entering. Zaelan stared up at him, and for a moment, a heavy silence fell as both men stared at each.
The disappointment and sorrow in the older man's eyes as well as the hair that seemed to have greyed over night, were enough to send the younger man on to his knees on the grime-covered floor.

"Forgive me, Father," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "Your son has failed you."

For a long moment, his father said nothing. When he spoke, his voice was low and weary like one who had not slept in days. "Perhaps I am the one who failed. I, who once served by the side of our king, have failed in raising you like a true man of Runen. What were you thinking, boy? Killing your own officer?"

Zaelan bowed low, his forehead resting against the cold stone floor. In an ironic sense, it soothed his heated face, and calmed his rapidly beating heart. "I will accept your discipline if it will ease your anger, father. It is not good for your heart to have such strong emotions. Release your anger on me, rather than hold it in."

Lord Ryon let out a weary sigh. Why was the damned boy worrying about him even in this moment? Did he really not understand the gravity of the crime he had committed, or was he being arrogant even now? "What would be the point in beating you, when you have yet to face the court's decree? Tell me now, boy. Was every word you spoke at the trial true?"

Zaelan's mind flew back to earlier that morning. Had anyone even listened to his protests? Had they taken note of his side of the story? Did his father even know how the incident had played out? He nodded slowly. "Yes, father."

Lord Ryon leant over and pulled him gently but firmly to his feet. "I will speak with the ministers of law. Perhaps they may be lighter on you, when I explain the truth."

Zaelan let out a bitter laugh. "Father, do not give me false hopes. You know as well as I, their ways of mercy. Forget it, father. I will accept my punishment like a true Runen and make you proud." His tone was mocking as he already knew his father's next words, before they had even left his mouth.

"Will I be proud of a son who is executed for such a crime as yours? I would rather you had taken your life then and there, and spared our family the shame of a public execution." His father took a deep breath, and shook his head. "We have spoken long enough. Sleep well. I will return tomorrow." Without any further word, he turned and strode away.

Zaelan slumped back against the bench. In his mind's eye, he could still see it. A large pool of blood, staining the stone floor. He was reliving it, over and over again.

* * * * *

Zaelan did not sleep that night and so was still awake when the door swung open and his father entered. For a moment, they both stood, staring at each other, their minds a tangled mess of thoughts. Then Zaelan knelt to pay his father a son's due respect. He was halted however, when his father grabbed his shoulder, aiding him to his feet.

"It's not necessary, boy. I have come to tell you of the court's decision." He paused, and for a long painful minute, was silent. He pushed Zaelan down onto the bench, before pacing restlessly about the room, avoiding Zaelan's puzzled gaze. Finally, he halted and with a deep sigh began.

"Since you did not kill the officer with malicious intentions, you will not be sentenced to death." He looked up here and flinched guiltily at seeing Zaelan's face lighten up. He looked away again, as he continued. "But as he was of a higher rank, you are still guilty of killing him. You are to be flogged before all your comrades as an example."

Zaelan's face went white. "Flogged? In public? It was self defence!"

"It was murder," snapped his father, his eyes flashing. "You should be thankful you get your pathetic unworthy life at all." Zaelan felt as is he had taken a blow to the face. He looked away, praying desperately that his eyes would not water over. The last thing he wanted now was to be accused of crying. He felt a hand under his chin, before his head was tilted up and his eyes met his father's. He looked older, Zaelan realised with surprise, much older. Lord Ryon stroked his son's face tenderly.

"I am old, Zaelan, and I have always been respected. For your sister's sake as well as your mother's, I came to this decision. I asked the judges to carry out your punishment quietly and your name is to be erased from the family of the hound emblem. I know a public flogging isn't quiet, but it isn't the entire punishment. You are to be banished and forbidden to be spoken of. After you are used as an example to your comrades, it will be as though you never existed. In some ways, perhaps this is the best for you as well."

Unaware, the tears had sprung from Zaelan's eyes. "But Father, it was self defense."

His father's eyes looked more sorrowful than ever. "Not here, son. Not in this country." His hand moved to Zaelan's shoulder. "To be honest, I am proud of you, Zaelan. It took true courage to do as you did. Farewell, my boy. Be strong." He turned and walked away. As he passed though the great iron door, Zaelan heard him whisper three words. Three words that were never met to reach his ears. "Forgive me, son."