A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

In his mind – and in Oliver's mind as well – such things shouldn't have needed explaining. There was already a mountain of evidence against the claims that Oliver had butchered those men of his own violation. This was merely another nail in the coffin. A perfect setting of the stage.

"That does seem like an impossibility to me, Minister," Lancelot agreed. "I am no fan of the Patricks, despite my Lady's own fondness, but it is clear to see, for anyone with the slightest bit of integrity, that the crime was not done by Oliver Patrick, but against him."

From Lancelot of all people, for Oliver, that meant a great deal, for as the man had said, they were far from seeing eye to eye.

Hod seemed to take note of that, for he looked Lancelot firmly in the eye as the boy said it, and he studied him for a long few moments. "Well, behold, you who rule. There's a student capable of it, even if you are not. Separating justice from personal dislike, that is what we need do here today. These guardsmen were coincidentally there, right as Oliver left, forcing their paths to intersect.

These guardsmen, coincidentally, numbered over twenty, when they ordinarily patrol in groups of five at the very most. These guardsmen, coincidentally, held two wanted fugitives amongst their rank – Alistar Hoofless and Fabian Small. And again, these guardsmen, coincidentally, without exception, all had their blades smothered with poison."

He let those words hang in the air, as he dismissed the case for what it was, once and for all. After all they'd said, after all they'd done, there could be no doubt. The proceedings had gone on for well over two hours now. They all knew enough about what had happened to be certain of its oddities. Either that, or they were wilfully blind to them.

"Does that align with what you yourself saw upon surveying the scene, Your Highness?" Hod asked.

"It does," Asabel agreed. "Their blades were covered with a black grass extract, a death herb. Verdant Idris was afflicted with such a poison when we arrived at the scene, and we needed to treat him for it.

There can be no doubt in my mind that this was an assassination, to say otherwise seems to smell of a terrible wrongness, and I can not fathom people – noble people – of the Kingdom that my family have a hand in ruling willfully turning their eyes to such wrongness.

Temporary satisfaction, I feel – though I have not lived long enough to prove it – will mean nothing, not when such actions are tainted by darkness. The darkness binds together, and it will see everything corrupted."

She spoke passionately on his behalf, holding her hand to her chest. It was clear that she believed every word. This was a person that valued honesty, not out of some arbitrary moral high-ground that she could take amongst her friends, but because she feared the results of the dishonestly, when allowed to fester for too long.

It had taken a great amount of pushing on Oliver's behalf merely to get her to keep something quiet. He could hardly fathom what an outright lie meant to her.

"There you have it," Hod declared. "We have reached our conclusion. No matter what the results of this trial are, we know the facts. We know that someone powerful targeted Oliver Patrick for assassination. We know that such a someone – despite sending twenty men with poisoned blades, and two fugitives amongst them – still managed to underestimate his strength.

That same man should be the one that we are trying, dare we to do so."

"You speak of treason, Minister," Jolamire warned, his voice hissing through his teeth.

"Treason?" Hod asked with a smile. "I have not given a name. It is you that seems to have some sort of idea of who I might be talking about."

Realizing his mistake, Jolamire's mouth flapped open, as he searched for the words to dig him out of his predicament. He did not need to, for Tavar was already rising, and he was angry. "Minister of Coin. You've spoken out of turn three times this evening. Your lack of regard for these proceedings will not be tolerated.

Another word further, and you will be dismissed from the trial entirely – for now, be content that you will merely have your Ministry taxes doubled for a season."

Tavar said 'merely' but from the bitter expression on Jolamire's face, it was not a punishment that should be taken lightly. Lazarus seemed similarly distressed, but he at least had the grace to keep his mouth closed. Gavlin, for his part, seemed satisfied, if slightly reluctant to meet the eyes of any who asked.

"If I may, Minister…" Asabel asked, gesturing towards where Hod stood, in the centre of the platform. Hod raised an eyebrow, apparently caught off guard by the proposition, but after a moment's pause, he made way for her, when he wouldn't make way for anyone else.

"Please," he said, gesturing to the spot. "There is no harm in it, is there, General?"

"…I suppose not," General Tavar admitted begrudgingly. "Not if I view it as an extension of her witness testimony. Do forgive us, Your Highness, but we can not allow you greater station than that. Not within these Halls." Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire

"You have been most generous and accommodating," Asabel said bravely, giving the Ministers another courtesy, as she climbed the steps and claimed the centre of the platform that Hod had dominated for so long.

The Minister of Logic studied her, as if trying to figure out what she was trying to do… He must have managed it, for the moment before she opened her mouth, he adopted a thoroughly stunned expression, before catching himself, and hardening his face once more, only allowing a smile to slip out.

As things were proceeding now, Oliver was well and truly lost. He knew that the Pendragon Princess had stood witness on his behalf, and for her to put herself in such a position, after only meeting him twice, he couldn't have been more grateful.

Her testimony bore more weight than any before her, and for the first time – from the defeated expressions of the crowd – there seemed to be at least some amount of hope for him.