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The King’s Daughter – Chapter 17
- by John on May 18th, 2010
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A week passed in eerie quietness around the castle, but the king’s daughter keenly felt the whispered rumors. Across the countryside emerged several hooded riders who rode through the burghs at night dropping small, printed posters. On each one was printed an accusation that the king’s daughter fornicated with and aided her father’s would-be assassin; it was a demand for justice. Not even the epidemic that prompted the king to legislate morality in the first place had spread as quickly as this news. The people started to demand an accounting of the king’s daughter. Those in the castle walls began to distance themselves from her; she avoided them by staying in her room. Only four—Aethelhelm, Eadwulf, her brother and her maidservant—provided her human contact and comfort.
During this time nobody had told the king for he was still very weak. Beyond the walls, a large group of people, some of whom had traveled from the farthest ports in the kingdom, had gathered on the outer bailey at the festival grounds to protest the king’s daughter. Some hoped to witness a hanging. Ferrante himself had issued a formal, legal charge against her. The prince had no choice but to tell the king of his daughter’s offenses.
As expected, he did not receive the news well. He grieved deeply, even more so than at the death of his wife. It was not just that Aelswith reminded him so much of her mother, or even that she would very likely face the penalty of death. It was that she had lost her innocence, and despite the pomp and circumstance of royalty and all the things that consumed a king’s attention, nothing in this life had drawn out his deepest affections as his little girl. His body empathized with his spirit and once again turned ill, almost to the point of death.
The following week passed, and the outer bailey grew infested with tents of the impassioned activists. Each day the call for justice grew louder. It was time for the judicial council to convene. The king found himself, as it were, awakened from a deep sleep. His body was mending, but his heart felt as if it was being shredded to pieces. Because of his relationship with the accused, the king temporarily resigned his position as chief judge in the council. Every man on the council expressed his own personal grief—after all, they had known Aelswith since she was an infant—but they each swore to uphold the law as written.
“What say you to the charges brought against you?” asked one of the judges.
“I am guilty, my lord,” Aelswith said, kneeling on the stone floor, bowing her head in shame and reverence.
Leaders of the crowd murmured amongst themselves in a swelling cacophony.
“Silence!” commanded the head judge. The noise subsided.
“Have you any words in your defense?” he continued.
Aelswith lifted her head and looked at the judge. “Truthfully, my lord, I have no excuse. But I swear upon the Holy Book and before the God of Heaven that Ferrante never disclosed his intentions to me. I love my father and would never have knowingly harmed him.”
“Very well. We shall deliberate on this matter and reconvene tomorrow at noon with a verdict.”
~
All night long Aelswith lay awake. How could she sleep? Her destiny would be determined tomorrow by a group of men whom she had grown to respect over the years. She went to her window and knelt down looking up at the stars and the moon. It was a clear night. She folded her hands and prayed. Never had she prayed more fervently for so long. Hours passed, pleading, confessing and even basking in surprising moments of incomprehensible joy. God seemed more real to her than ever before.
She was still kneeling when the sun tinged the tops of the forest trees with red and golden ribbons of light. She smiled and went back to her bed. She finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion.
About an hour before noon her maidservant entered her chamber and awakened her. She brought in some food and a fresh change of clothes. Aelswith took her time in preparing herself for the council, but nothing she did was able to remove the dark circles under her eyes. Just before noon, the prince came to escort her down to the Great Hall where the council was already assembled.
“Are you ready?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” she responded simply.
“You did not sleep?” he asked.
“No.”
“You do not want to speak today?”
“No.”
The prince smiled. She cracked a small one as the conversation broke the tension. He took her arm, and they walked down together.
The council quieted when Aelswith and the prince entered the room. Aelswith looked around, but her father was noticeably absent. They seated themselves before the council.
“Will the defendant please rise?” said the man who took her father’s seat.
Aelswith was understandably shaking. She stood up and used one hand to keep the other from shaking.
“The council has come to a verdict. On the charge of treason, we find the defendant ‘Not Guilty.’” Aelswith looked down at her brother, and they meekly smiled at each other. Then she realized that this was not really why she was there.
“On the charge of unlawful conduct with Ferrante, we find the defendant ‘Guilty.’ The defendant will receive the full penalty of death by hanging according to the law of this land.”
Up until now, she somehow thought that everything would turn out all right, but the weight of reality barreled down upon her spirit and broke her. She began to weep, and the prince rose to embrace her.
The chief councilman continued. “Execution will take place at noon, one week from today. I suggest the defendant take the opportunity to tend to her soul. As such, she shall remain under house arrest until the time of her execution. This council will now adjourn.”
The prince continued to hold her until they were the only ones left. Some patted her on her back as they walked by her. Other expelled sighs of disgust. At that moment she just wanted to die.
“Come,” the prince graciously prompted. He gently led her out of the Great Hall.
The King’s Daughter by John Albert Thomas is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
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