Dragon: A Histories of Purga Novel

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dr. Liza Taren hid herself among an artfully plotted copse of trees off to the left of the landing where Wilhelm's retinue was setting up. Thousands of black-clad soldiers were marching, their footsteps a loud thunder that seemed to hammer on her nerves and fray them even worse. Her hands visibly shook and her eyelids fluttered closed and then open, closed and then open. She licked her lips.

She hoped everything went according to plan.

She hoped it would all end.

She watched what was going on with a mixture of guilt and anger. She saw Wilhelm come out of the Citadel, his long strides carrying him along with casual speed and grace. Stomping along behind him, like an obedient dog, was her Behemoth. His head hung down, his chin on the lumpy, over-developed muscles of his chest. His ragged hair hung in clumps and soggy-looking strands across his equally misshapen face. The wicked-looking weapon that replaced the lower portion of his right arm shone brilliantly in the harsh lighting from the sun.

She watched them both come down the steps to the lower landing, walking right past a giant wood pile with a pole sticking straight up from its center. It was easy for Liza to realize where this was going. They were planning on burning someone to death. Shudders racked her body at the thought of her people being capable of such savagery.

The Behemoth joined the small crowd that was clustered near the stairs leading down to the street. She recognized several of the men and women there, including Lord Guilder himself, his bright yellow shirt billowing in the breeze and his teal silk pants ballooning comically. Justice Rina Idner was standing there as well, her iron grey hair cut short. There was a stern look on her face and she stood stock still. Her arms were locked behind her back. Also in attendance were Oliver Topan, a highly respected attorney, Harmony Vector the actress, Duke Ika Kensington and his wife, Earl Jin Weign with his daughter, Kela, and son, Psid, and three others she didn't recognize.

Everyone there, even the soldiers, looked blank somehow. Their facial expressions were still there, but there was something missing in their eyes. The only ones that weren't like that were Lord Guilder and a bald man that she thought looked familar but couldn't put a name to his face. Both of them still looked normal.

Liza found it curious but didn't pay much attention to it. She was here to do something she should've done ten months ago. So she turned her attention away from everyone else and watched Wilhelm closely. He was gesturing wildly, his odd mechanical voice coming out loudly through the speaker system that was set up specifically for this event.

A couple of minutes went by with Wilhelm still talking before he finally quit and stepped aside. Coming down the steps, her head held high, was one of the most beautiful girls she'd ever seen. Her long, dark hair trailed down her back, and her youthful face was flawless. A strip of artistically crafted silver ran down the part in her hair with a blue sapphire dangling from its end and resting on her forehead. Dark red lips were held in a tight line and Liza could see the muscles in her jaw flex as she clenched and unclenched her teeth. But she never looked at anyone. She kept her head high and her eyes focused into the distance, letting them go blank. There was a stern look to her face, yet it was soft as well.

Liza took in a sharp breath, confused.

The girl was a Terraquois.

"What is this?" she asked herself, her voice a breathless whisper.

It became evident what was going on a couple of seconds later, however, as Wilhelm made daring claims into a camera and singled out Prince Rone. The Terra girl and the Prince were apparently quite close. When the accusations were made, there were sounds of surprise and shock from the people gathered, then yells of outrage and anger. Then Wilhelm was calling the Prince out. Mocking him. Telling him that if he allowed the woman to die, to be burnt alive, then he would win back the loyalty of his people.