Song of the Ascendant

13. Insights

Twentieth of Harbinger

The least that could be said of Silari and Faelin was that they had the wisdom to leave Svaleta under the cover of night. Rumours had already begun to spread that the king had met with the Aliri, seemingly confirmed by the dozen riders who left the city that afternoon making haste down the highways. By dawn the next day the roads to Svaleta were filled with noblemen and the heads of higher families responding to Farhad's summons. The residents woke to find a platform constructed in the city square, with a wooden block and bucket in the middle. Berias' militia were scattered across the square in unusually high numbers, and even before the official notice was declared throughout the streets there was already a gathering of witnesses.

It was midmorning when a series of trumpet blasts announced the coming of King Farhad. The procession was led by four of the King's Guard in their crimson robes, with another four at the rear. Farhad was first in line with his wife Ismelda by his side. She looked elegant in a white dress, with soft eyes that looked with compassion on the gathered crowd, a complete contrast to Farhad's stern demeanour. Alihad and Berias followed them both, along with a group of the highest noblemen, who had been graced with breakfast with the king. The Prophetess was nowhere to be seen, nor were her handmaidens, a fact that was not lost on anyone. Farhad had requested her presence, and her response had been unheard by anyone else, though her answer was evident. The King's Guard took up their positions around the platform, while the royal entourage sat on a series of chairs around it. Only Alihad climbed the steps, standing two feet from the wooden block. The crowd went silent, then followed his gaze to see a hooded man being led down the street by two soldiers, one of whom carried a headsman's axe. Farhad was silent until the prisoner was kneeling before the block. He gave a nod and the hood was torn away. There was a collective gasp at the elf kneeling before them, his eyes set on Alihad. The general waited until Farhad gave the signal, then began his proclamation.

"People of Svaleta, hear me. We have suffered much at the hands of the Aliri. For centuries we have lived in fear of their threat. No more! We have been given a pledge of peace from King Silari, and we have accepted. We face greater threats now than the elves could offer.

"But every war must end with sacrifice from the one who started it. Before you kneels General Echtalon, the planner and executor of Aliri aggression. The blood of our sons is on his hands. Today we proclaim peace. Today we claim his blood for theirs."

Alihad stepped back before waving for the headsman to strike. There would be no last words for Echtalon, no opportunity for him to become a martyr. He had started a war against Svaleta and he would die as their enemy, not as a hero. Alihad didn't agree with the king's decision, but such was life.

The life of Echtalon, the pride of the Aliri Empire, ended with a blade through the neck. It took only a single blow to sever his head, though as it dropped it missed the bucket and hit the platform with a sickening thud before rolling to a stop. A spray of blood from the severed neck splashed across Farhad. As it should, Alihad thought. Echtalon had been an enemy, but he was a soldier first. Farhad deserved to feel the blood that he wouldn't shed.

"With his blood, we end this war," Alihad proclaimed. "And we look to a brighter future."

He glanced up at the towering spires of the Temple. He saw nothing, but he knew that the Prophetess would be watching. As the crowd began to thin out, he made his way to Berias.

"We should talk," Alihad said softly. He nodded towards the Temple. "With her."

Berias' eyes narrowed, his mind on the same level as the general's. "Give me an hour."

"So be it."

It was strange how easily treason began.

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