Eleanor’s eyes gleam red as the golden knights surround her. If any of them were to strike her now, she’d have a just cause to go on her long-awaited rampage.
Donna senses the Devil’s intent.
“Ms. Eleanor, please don’t hurt them! There has to be some kind of misunderstanding!”
“Hurt them? Oh, I don’t mean to hurt them, my dear freckled friend. I mean to dig out their eyeballs with a spoon and suck on their spinal cords. Hehehe!”
“Please, don’t do it! I beg you!”
Eleanor sharpens her nails. Her lips spread into a joyous grin.
“Come on. Come to Mama.”
Eleanor cast her eyes at the knight. She counts twenty of them, each wearing a full-plated armor and carrying a magically inscribed sword.
These are the Holy Palatine, an order of knights served under the direct command of the Temple of Ceram. They often act as judge, jury, and executioner of those deemed heretical by the church with little oversight, although now they are being led by a magistrate.
Oh yeah, I know him. He’s Magistrate Lo … something, something. My father invited him to dine at our manor once.
His name is Magistrate Lorenzo. He was quite an influential figure in his time. They say he was in Archpriest Lucille Leonel’s inner circle, on top of commanding the Merino Stronghold.
Merino? You mean the place where—
Shush! Don’t spoil the surprise. If you know, you know. If you don’t know … Well, I look forward to seeing how the Devil reacted back then.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
The old priest, or Magistrate Lorenzo, looks down at Eleanor with contempt. His bony finger points at her.
“You shall come with us to be judged under the eyes of God, Eleanor Ambrose. Should you refuse, then it is within my power to excommunicate you and those who follow your heretical teachings!”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Excommunication?! But why? What have we done to warrant such punishment?” Donna says internally.
The people, seeing their savior in trouble, come out of their lodgings and fill the streets. They flood the dirt roads and march toward the square. Their eyes look toward their angel and their chatters rumble like low thunder.
“Look at them,” Lorenzo says. “Herd animals led astray by a thief. Beggars, immigrants, illiterates, drunkards, whores, low-lives—your false promises had turned those who would’ve been welcomed into the church’s flock into your slaves. You shall learn that your actions have consequences, Eleanor Ambrose.”
As the people move closer, the golden knights turn their swords away from Eleanor and surround the square like a wall of gold. They point their swords at the ground, although that doesn’t make them less imposing.
Magistrate Lorenzo climbs up on a platform and speaks to them:
“Hear me, good people. I am Magistrate Lorenzo Lima. I have in my hand the seal of Ceram, and I stand here now as a representative of the divine temple, guided under God’s grace. I came to you now so you may learn the true face of your false idol. This young woman—this fraud—is not the priestess she pretends to be. Nay! She is not recognized by the church, nor is she a real priestess at all!”
The people murmur at the news.
“It is with good authority that I declare this woman to be a charlatan. Her performance—her so-called healing sessions are mere stage play. Her sermons are clumsy imitations, and her miracles and charities are lies meant to entice you—the good people—to stray from the righteous path and follow this deceiver into sin! Listen to me, good people, and listen well. Eleanor Ambrose’s action has tarnished the revered name of our holy temple. She now stands accused of heresy! And those who follow her—those who have aided her transgression—shall suffer the same fate!”
The magistrate points his bony finger at the crowd.
“It is not too late to repent, good people. Before, you were led astray in the dark, but now that the truth has been illuminated, you have the chance to change your ways. God is forgiving and he shall welcome you back into his fold no matter what mistake you have made. With hard work and patience, your soul may still be saved. But for those of you who have learned the truth and are still willing to follow this false idol, God’s judgment shall be swift and precise. The lightest punishment you shall receive for your crimes … is excommunication. You shall not be allowed to set foot in any town under the Lord’s banner. No man shall employ you, no merchant shall trade with you, and no one shall give you food or water. You shall live a life worse than that of a beast, and it is what you deserved!”
Magistrate Lorenzo has a self-satisfying grin as the crowd clamors over the ultimatum.
He glances at his people, who are mixed in with the crowd, giving them the signal to cause a commotion.
Brother Luca and Sister Lilly, who have spent weeks infiltrated into the commune, look at each other and nod. They point at Magistrate Lorenzo and shout:
“He’s the Devil! He is Adrian Acker!”
What follows is utter bedlam.