Alpha Instinct

Chapter 42

The courtroom was packed; the commotion of having the great Captain Roland imprisoned was relentless. The air was thick, heavy with the anticipation of everyone there who crowded the galleries, eager to witness the trial of the famous "Devil's Hand," as Roland was known, the once esteemed captain of the Royal Guard, now demoted to sergeant and now accused of treason and conspiracy against the crown. The silence was only broken by muffled murmurs and the creaking of wooden chairs.

In the center of the room, an imposing table served as the stage for the unfolding drama. Judges dressed in their black robes occupied their seats, their expressions serious and impenetrable. In front of them, Roland, escorted by two armed guards, awaited his fate, the Frosteel chains clinking with every movement.

After announcing the start of the trial, Edward sat back down on his elevated throne and observed everything with a cold and calculating gaze. The golden crown that adorned his head seemed to weigh upon him. His blue eyes were dull and icy. "Don't mess with me today, Roland; I'm warning you," Edward thought.

Roland looked at the crowd again, his eyes

A man of robust physique and advanced age, clearly humble and in simple clothes, entered the room with his head held high, carrying a small cloth backpack, in a pose and gait to be envied by any ordinary passerby. It was Thomas, the loyal former soldier and friend of Roland. He calmly reached the front of the bench and sat down at the witness stand.

"Introduce yourself, please," said the defense attorney.

"My name is Thomas Adams. I am a fisherman and retired soldier from the Lumeria army. I am 65 years old and a widower. I have family in another city."

"The defense may question him," said the judge.

"Mr. Thomas, do you know the man chained and mistreated in front of you?"

"Yes, it's Roland Silverback, my friend from the army." Thomas stands up and salutes Roland, who returns the gesture by nodding in respect.

"Do you have contact with Mr. Roland?" The defense questions.

"I hadn't seen Roland in over 15 years, sir."

"And how did you come into contact recently?"

"Roland appeared at my door late at night, carrying a woman who was totally bruised and in danger of death; he himself was tired and had traces of battle and pursuit."

"And how can you prove to me that Roland was not the aggressor but the victim?"

"Simple, sir, the woman he was carrying is alive, and other city merchants and informants can confirm that royal guards forcibly dragged her out of her establishment." Thomas stated.

"Excellent, can you tell me where the girl is?" Asks defense.

"I can't, sir; Elizabeth is in danger of death. I fear for her safety," said Thomas.

"I then ask the judge for the preservation of the victim in question for health reasons, invoking the royal decree of the year 157 of the New Era, which says that any witness in a state of health with imminent risk of death should be spared."

"I have here with me, gentlemen, the victim's bloodied clothes and her identity card, proving it to be true." Thomas placed the clothes on the pulpit.

"Since it is a royal decree-law, I will accept your plea," said the judge.

"No further questions, gentlemen," reported the defense attorney.

"You fool, you're risking your life..." Roland whispered to Thomas.

Thomas just winked at his friend.

"Prosecutor, would you like to question the witness?"

"Of course, Your Honor," said the prosecutor. "Then proceed," replied the judge.

"Mr. Thomas, how can you prove that Mrs. Elizabeth is not also a conspirator against the crown?" Asked the prosecutor.

"I can't, sir, but neither can you prove otherwise," Thomas said.

The prosecutor was all disconcerted, losing some of his posture. He then cleared his throat with a cough and continued. "What guarantees me that you are not also conspiring against the crown?" Attacked the prosecutor.

"I told you, sir, I hadn't seen Roland in 15 years until I found him bloodied at my door. I didn't even know Commander Belfort, and I barely knew Elizabeth, the owner of the inn, by her name."

The prosecutor got so confused that he bumped into his court wig and dropped it, a desperate action to put it back on. A tragically hilarious scene.

King Edward put one of his hands to his face in disapproval, but an idea hissed in his mind. "This is great. I can say that, without conclusive evidence, he is innocent but guilty of coldly killing Garrick, an army officer."

"That's enough; I'm tired; let Thomas go," Edward said.

The judge looked at the king and, after a brief pause, announced that the trial would be suspended until the next day, when the sentence would be handed down. Roland was escorted back to his cell, uncertainty and apprehension accompanying him like shadows. Concern for Thomas mingled with the urgency of caring for Elizabeth. If Thomas was caught, Elizabeth would die.

Back inside the cell, Roland sat on the floor, leaning against the cold, damp wall, the chains clinking. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He did not know what would happen now; the path ahead was full of dangers. He knew for sure that Thomas's testimony was not in the King's plans, and tomorrow's sentence would be an unknown until it was delivered.