“I honestly wasn’t sure the plan would work that well,” Alistair said as they stood before row after row of tied up villagers. The sleeping potion was just beginning to wear off of them and some were awakening. Confused mutters and shouts of anger slowly filled the air as more woke up.
“Your faith in me is heartening,” Liliana muttered.
One of her hands was gripped tightly over Nemesis’ summoning stone, where the serpent rested. She’d had to put the serpent in stasis as soon as they got the signal flare that the plan had been completed. She didn’t yet trust the serpent to not go mad when confronted with the murderers who had killed her garden. As it was, Liliana had a tenuous hold on her own anger, fed by memories shared through her bond with Nemesis, and [Empathy] showing her exactly how deep the hurt reached in Nemesis’ heart.
It was only Lelantos’ steadfast bulk at her side that kept her grounded. The tiger wasn’t pleased with the humans either, but he didn’t have the same level of connection to Nemesis that Liliana did. It meant at least one of them was keeping a calm head.
“Considering the last time I saw you make a potion, it blew up. My caution is understandable,” Alistair defended himself. Liliana gave him a droll look. Did he not know failure was the mother of progress?
“I wonder, can you mix potions like that with other abilities?” Emyr asked from the tree branch he was resting on. He was cloaked in shadows, but still visible to those who knew where to look.
“Some, I assume. Wind would be good. Fire for potions meant to explode. Water, of course, is good for it,” Liliana listed off the affinities she could see being immediately useful to mixing with potions.
This entire plan had come from her idea of mixing a Gas affinity with sleeping potions. Gas had been used throughout her world history in wars and riots to subdue opponents. Liliana had simply taken that and mixed it with this world’s magic. Crafting the necessary amount of sleeping potions had been the hard part, but once she got Amelia’s approval for the plan, she’d had more helping hands than she knew what to do with.
When the potions were done, a guard with a Gas affinity had been tasked with spreading the sleeping potion through the air, leaving the village undefended. They’d been lucky a guard with a Gas affinity had been in the group, otherwise they would have poisoned the well, and the chance for an overdose rose in such a scenario. It still would’ve been less loss of life than an actual battle would have been. Still, this way had been the most ideal, and from what Liliana had heard had resulted in no loss of life. A few minor injuries among the villagers from where they’d fallen asleep, but nothing life threatening.
Maybe I should be concerned about introducing a potentially new method of warfare. Though I’m sure there’s some Gas skills that work the same, Liliana mused. At least she hadn’t shown them how to make mustard gas, or something of that nature. Not that she knew how to make it, but she was sure she could make an approximation of it using some potions she did know how to make. Or it could even be done if one mixed Acid and Gas skills together. Liliana shook her head to dismiss the mental images that thought conjured. Best to not encourage anyone towards that, if it hadn’t been yet discovered. This world didn’t have a Geneva Convention as far as she was aware, and she didn’t want to be the reason it needed one.
Liliana, Alistair, and Emyr were close enough to see and hear the villagers, but as out of sight as they could manage. Amelia stood before the captured villagers, Jason beside her and more guards behind her. The rest of the guards surrounded the villagers, hands on weapons and ready to act if any of the villagers seemed apt to break out.
From what Liliana knew, all the villagers had been dosed with an additional potion, one meant to lock them from their System abilities. It would last for a week, unless they were given an antidote beforehand. The ropes binding the villagers were also reinforced, so it would take someone of Rank 4 or higher to break them. The guards had come prepared, far more prepared than Liliana had originally expected. Though she should have, the guards would’ve known how many villagers were here and had likely been provisioned with enough to handle them all.
“I ask you again, name the ones among you who have broken the laws of this land,” Amelia called out when it seemed the majority of the villagers had awoken. Her voice rose above the shouts of anger and confusion and quieted the crowd of prisoners.
“You said we had a week!” a voice called out. Liliana’s eyes traced over the faces until she found the one to have spoken. Henry Maddock, the headman of the village.
“So I did, and you had your week.” Amelia responded, her voice even and emotionless.
Liliana’s fingers tightened over the summoning stone in her hand. That had been part of their plan as well. Amelia had been steadfast in sticking to her word. So they hadn’t started the plan until after midnight of the day the villagers were to hand over the list of names. Based on what the scouts had told them, the villagers were not planning on handing over the list. It wasn’t a unanimous decision, but it was a majority one.
“Now you can give us the names, and those not part of the crime will be released to continue their lives as normal. Taxes will be increased for the village for five years and after that the crimes of those who sat by and did not stop their fellows from desecrating this land, and who did not immediately report this lawbreaking to their liege lady, will be cleared. Or if no names are given, all over the age of 16 will be brought to the city to face trial and execution. It is for you to decide,” Amelia informed the villagers. Voices immediately began to rise amongst the prisoners, shouts and yells and curses overlapping until it was nothing but a wave of discordant noise.
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Liliana watched, shifting her weight as she struggled to control her tongue and temper. Her need for justice, for vengeance, warred with her abhorrence of taking human life. She knew the people here had done wrong, evil things. Fueled by grief and fear, they’d murdered innocent creatures. Yet some part of Liliana still feared being responsible for more deaths.
Her modern sensibilities were fighting with what was seen as right in this world. In her previous world, she’d never seen someone killed, not for justice or any other reason. Oh, she’d seen people die, their life drained from them by illnesses that obeyed no man nor god. But that was different. In her world, even killing those who had done awful, horrendous things was seen as unacceptable in some places. Here, it was more common. Keeping people imprisoned who had the power of the System behind them was costly and dangerous.
She understood why it had to happen, why they had to die. But she didn’t like it. Even while part of her cried for the blood of those who had murdered her bond’s family. Liliana was no longer entirely certain which choice was the right one. Was it following through with what her heart demanded? Seeing those who had so greatly sinned die by an executioner’s axe? Or was it to pardon them, leave their lives intact while they rotted away in a dungeon, their lives funded by law-abiding citizens’ taxes? Why should they be granted life when they had denied that to others?
Liliana’s eyes slid to Alistair, who was watching on with a grim face. His hands were fisted at his sides and Liliana could see the dark circles under his eyes. She could consider the morality of this situation for days, but she’d never be the one who held the final decision in her hands. She’d never shoulder that burden, never would she bear the weight of deaths meted out by justice. But Alistair would. One day this would be his choice to make, his cross to bear. The blood would never rest on her hands, but it would stain his.
He’s only fourteen, and he has to already face this. Fuck, I’m only sixteen and I’ve already had to kill grown men. In my world, the worst thing normal kids our age have to care about is if they have a pop quiz in algebra. Here we have to face the fact that one day we may hold lives in our hands. We have to worry if tomorrow will bring a monster too strong to fight, or a group of brigands more cunning than we. Liliana shivered at the thoughts and leaned further into Lelantos, seeking the comfort the tiger offered her. In many ways, her last life, while darkened with death’s inevitable specter, was far easier than this one.
“I won’t die and leave my boys without a mother, Henry! I’m sorry you lost your boys but I won’t make mine lose their ma!” a voice shouted out over the sounds of villagers arguing and shouting abuse at the guards. Amelia motioned with a hand and the woman who had shouted was led from the group by a guard.
“I’ll tell you who had a hand in that night, just please. Let me live. My boys need their ma. They’re only 14 and 15, too young to be left alone,” the woman begged Amelia as she dropped to her knees. Amelia nodded at her and tilted her head. The same guard helped the woman to her feet and led her to Amelia’s tent.
“Congratulations, it looks like today we won’t be removing Timberborn from the maps,” Amelia informed the assembled villagers before turning on her heels and stalking to the tent. She paused by Alistair and motioned for him to follow. Alistair took a deep breath and followed her, though Liliana saw how his hands shook.
Liliana looked towards Emyr, and as one, they moved to follow the group to Amelia’s tent. No one tried to stop them and Lelantos curled up outside as Liliana and Emyr slipped into the tent. They settled towards the back of the tent, mostly out of sight in the hopes if they were quiet enough, Amelia wouldn’t shoo them off.
“What’s your name, for the record?” Amelia asked the woman once everyone was settled. Another guard had several pieces of parchment spread on a desk, quill held up and ready to begin recording what the woman said.
“Agatha Reed, ma’am,” the woman responded. The sound of a quill scratching parchment filled the air.
“You said you would give us a list of names of those who participated in the murder of,” Amelia checked a piece of paper, “28 full grown Flowered Serpents, 8 juveniles, 10 serpentlings and 12 eggs?” Liliana sucked in air at the numbers being listed. One of the guards who had gone with her to find Nemesis must have recorded the remains. The numbers somehow both felt like far too many, and far too little to fully describe the horrors she’d seen.
“I-yes,” Agatha said, her voice more subdued after hearing the full extend of what had been done.
“Then please begin,” Amelia nodded at her and Agatha took a deep breath before names started to fall off her lips. At first it was slow, as if she was forcing them out of her mouth. But slowly she picked up speed as if she was trying to get this over with. Tears ran down the woman’s face, but she didn’t pause or stop her stream of names.
Liliana pulled her knees to her chest as the list of names grew and grew. Would there be a Timberborn left after all of these people were taken? It felt like Agatha would never stop until silence filled the air after the last name. Only the scratching of a quill and quiet sobs filled the tent as Agatha wept for the men and women she’d just condemned to death.
“Thank you. I’ll need you to read over the list and confirm the names and that none were missed,” Amelia informed the woman, and Agatha nodded miserably.
“I’d like to have one more person to verify the names are correct and to add any you may have missed, do you know someone from the village who would be inclined to confirm your list?” Amelia asked and Agatha sucked in a shuddering breath.
“Sarah, her girl is seventeen. She won’t want to lose her and she’ll talk,” Agatha whispered, and Amelia motioned to a guard to find the woman in question.
“Thank you for what you’ve done, Agatha. It was very brave.” Amelia’s tone was softer now as she looked at the woman.
“Don’t want your thanks. I hate you as much as the rest of them. But I know better than to try to fight the duke’s men. I want to see my boys grow up, marry and have little ones of their own. Don’t think I’m doing this for some sense of ‘justice’ or loyalty. The plague may have taken our children, but you’re going to take the last bit of life we had left. You’ve made a murderer of me, but I’m doing it for my boys. What’s your excuse?” Agatha spat, words full of venom and hate.
“You may not see it, but I’m doing it for the good of the Rosengarde territory. Without order, we would descend into chaos. Laws must be obeyed, and when they are broken, punishments must be handed out,” Amelia explained, though it was clear Agatha heard none of it, but Liliana didn’t think the words were meant for her. The words were meant for Alistair, who had gone pale at Agatha’s words. Amelia was trying to remove some of his guilt, guilt Liliana couldn’t help but share. For once, she thought she could easily understand what her stepbrother was thinking.
If they were doing the right thing, why did it feel so awful?