Chapter 1576: Setting Fire To The World (Part Three)

"Burn it all down, until nothing remains but stones, bones, and ash..."

Ashlynn’s words ignited a firestorm of their own, and the hall erupted into dozens of murmurs and exclamations.

"She can’t be serious..."

"Does she mean to burn down the abbey in Maeril?"

"Did she, did she really say what I think she said? She’s going to burn the abbot and his men along with the books?"

"It’s fair, isn’t it? The Inquisition burns heretics at the stake, so isn’t this just letting them reap what they sowed?"

"But... but... When the Inquisitors outside the march hear of this..."

At the Blackwell table, Jocelynn’s eyes drifted upwards while her hand clutched at the hilt of the fighting knife beneath her skirts.

"I know it’s not what you would have asked for, Eleanor," she whispered. "But... If she really does it, if she really burns down the Inquisition that took you from us... I hope the flames she lights can guide you on your way..."

"Silence!" Owain bellowed, slamming a fist onto the polished oak of the High Table. "Enough!"

"You cannot do this, Ashlynn. I won’t allow it," he said sharply. "Gilander!"

"Your Grace," the aging knight said, drawing the ceremonial sword he’d worn to welcome a new knight into their ranks while several other knights around the Great Hall did the same. "Lady Ashlynn, submit yourself to... -URK!-"

Gilander’s voice cut off in a strangled cry as a powerful arm wrapped around his throat, pressing the edge of a blade deeply enough into the flesh of his throat to spill a thin rivulet of blood. Another powerful, weathered hand wrapped around the wrist of his sword hand, its fingers driving into his wrist so painfully that Gilander’s fingers relaxed against his will, sending his sword clattering to the floor.

"Don’t you dare," Captain Albyn hissed as he took a half step back, pulling Gilander off balance before the man could mount an effective defense. "No one moves against Lady Ashlynn, or this man dies!" Albyn shouted.

All across the Great Hall, swords were drawn as men who had returned to their seats leaped to their feet. Valeri Leufroy joined them, drawing his own ceremonial sword and taking a position beside Owain, making it clear to everyone just how far the old baron’s loyalty extended... Or perhaps, making it clear that he saw no other way out for himself now that his conspiracy with Abbot Recared had been exposed.

Wes Iriso made a similar move, drawing his sword in order to rush to Lady Ashlynn’s side, only to stop as she raised a hand and shook her head at him.

For a dozen fragile heartbeats, no one moved. No one spoke. Between one breath and the next, they’d come right back to where they’d been when Lady Ashlynn stormed the Great Hall; swords were drawn, and the entire world seemed to teeter on the edge of the bloody knife held at Sir Gilander’s throat.

"I’ve been patient, Husband," Ashlynn said, breaking the silence when it felt heavy enough to crush everyone beneath its weight. "Don’t mistake my patience for leniency. We convened the Court to hear its judgment," she reminded everyone in a voice that echoed off the walls. "Not to have it silenced by your knights."

"This isn’t judgment, this is madness!" Owain snapped. "The instant you set fire to the abbey, the entire march will be engulfed in the flames! We are on the eve of war. Demons are raiding our farms and villages as we speak! If you do this, whether the demons destroy us, or the Inquisition does, no one in this room will live to see next winter!"

Owain’s words washed over the Great Hall like a bucket of cold water, but neither Ashlynn nor her allies showed any sign of shifting their stances.

"Everyone," Ashlynn said, addressing the assembled Lothian Court rather than Owain. "You heard High Priest Aubin’s words for yourself. The Church doesn’t stand with the abbot. Recared is guilty of crimes against this entire march. How many of your friends and loved ones have you lost to their cruelty and torture? How much have your people suffered and struggled while the Inquisition bled your coffers dry?"

"How many of your wives and daughters has Recared threatened?" she said, giving Serle Otker a pointed look. "And how many noble knights have been forced to betray their virtues to keep their families safe from these monsters?"

"Don’t try to prey on the weaknesses of their hearts, Ashlynn," Owain sneered. "That might work on women, but the men of the march learned long ago to set aside the pains of the past to focus on the real threats we face. Whatever crimes Recared and his Inquisitors are guilty of, we can see them punished and restitution paid to their victims, but there are limits..."

"No," Ashlynn interrupted. "The only limit I see is the limit of your courage, Owain. You’re afraid of the Inquisition. You’re afraid of the enemies your family has spent the past hundred years antagonizing and failing to defeat. You’re afraid of your crimes coming to light, and you’re afraid that you won’t be the first Lothian Duke, you’ll be the last Lothian Marquis to ever sit on that throne."

"You’re afraid, Owain," Ashlynn said in a tone that dripped with scorn. "But I am not afraid to do what’s right. It’s harder, so, so much harder," she said, clenching her right hand into a fist as she held herself back from drawing Water’s Edge. "But it’s the only way we can ever be free of this endless pain, suffering, and fear."

"The Abbot’s crimes are well known to the Court," Ashlynn said, sweeping her gaze over the lords and ladies at the high table. "So what say you all? Do we burn away the rot because it is the right and righteous thing to do? Or do we cower like dogs at Owain’s feet, hoping our master won’t choke us to death with a leash of secrets and lies."

"We stand with Lady Ashlynn," Erling Fayle said, standing up without waiting to hear whether or not his mother agreed with him. If, after all of this, she could find an excuse to stand with Owain then she wasn’t the woman who’d raised him, but to Erling, timing was everything, and it was vital to cast a vote before Owain could attempt to recapture the momentum. A moment later, his mother’s voice rang out beside him as she joined him.

"We cannot live the way we have," Lady Ragna agreed. "Our backs can bend no further, and our coffers have nothing left to give. Even if it costs us everything in the end, better to do what’s right and righteous than live like shackled hounds," she said, nodding at Ashlynn as she spoke.

"We also stand with Lady Ashlynn," Serle Otker said, pulling Melsinde’s hand as he encouraged her to stand with him. Before, he’d waited too long to sell his vote to Lord Owain, but this time, the price of supporting the young Marquis was far, far too high and Lady Ashlynn offered the only path he saw to get free of whatever other information the Inquisition had collected about him and his affairs over the years.

He would not miss this chance!"

"As do we," Baroness Peigi said, standing up beside her husband, only to pause and look down at him as if he were a petulant child. "As. Do. We," she repeated sharply.

"You’re right," Tybal Aleese said with a heavy sigh as he stood. "I’m sorry, Lord Owain. You speak of the future, but... Attempting to show mercy toward men like these," he said, gesturing toward the captured Inquisitors. "They’re rabid dogs who have already shown that they’ll bite. Moreover, Lady Ashlynn has already more than proven that they’re incapable of defending themselves, much less the rest of us, against a real threat."

"We risk little by putting down a pack of rabid dogs, Your Grace," Tybal said. "High Priest Aubin has already said that the Church will not stand behind these men. We risk far more by pretending that we can fit them with a leash and control them with a muzzle."

Baron Tybal’s words were like the hammer blow that finally cracked the dam, and one by one, the remaining barons stood. Some were pulled to their feet by the baronesses beside them, others stood together, but eventually, everyone stood for Lady Ashlynn, even Baroness Betrys, despite the dark, piercing glare from her husband, Valeri.

"The Court has made its will known," Ashlynn said, turning away from the red-faced Owain Lothian to call out to her own people.

"Ignatious," Ashlynn said in a voice that echoed off the walls. "These men are guilty of heinous crimes. Will you help me to deliver their punishment?"