Montague put the letter down, refusing to finish reading it aloud.
Lord Alexandal stood and shouted. Rage shaped his words. “It’s the same thing they did to us at Illyrium. They are burning us out of our lives and homes. These wild people are insane. They never stop at the chance to taste blood.”
Montague stared blankly, pondering the situation transpiring around him as the rest discussed their concerns. He looked to the empty seat where Demitri Von Cobb usually sat.
“Send as many soldiers as we can spare to aid both Grale and Mern,” Olivia Volpi said to the Ikarus general, “but keep enough men here to protect our own home. We are just as vulnerable to an attack. It is critical that our army secure the safety of the royal families. If they are alive, do whatever you need to do to protect them. Extend our hospitality to those in need.”
Alexandal briefed his men and sent them off.
The council doors banged open, the thud of the prisoner’s body against the hard oak, echoing throughout the room. It startled everyone. Because of the sudden island fires, members of the council, in their panic, had almost forgotten about the arrested suspect.
Rows of granite pillars with fire-lit sconces lined the path to the judgment table. Ikarus watchmen escorted the man to the council desk to be tried. He was large and grizzly and thrashing about. The night guard captain handled him with a tired step.
Montague La-Rose recognized his dreadful face: big teeth and large ‘gums’. Except he no longer wore that old, Illyrium-forged armor like he did at the gates of Illyrium when he’d sent Montague away, days before the Great Flood. It was best, Montague thought, not to mention his previous encounter with Gums to the queen, not yet; not until he knew more about what was happening. He couldn’t present theories. He needed proof.
Olivia leaned and whispered to Montague, “Where is Demitri?”
“I’m not sure,” Montague said. “I just ran into him as I was leaving the library. He should have been here by now.”
The night guard captain addressed the council. “Forgive me, your majesty, my lords and ladies. We caught this man attempting to flee the kingdom with five children tied in the back of a carriage. He also tried to set fire to a hay barrel covered in oil. We sent the little ones back to their families.”
Gums now wore a draping, gray gown that was covered in blood and smelled of horse manure. His hands were like mittens and his fingers like plump sausages; the perfect glove to silence any outcry from a small mouth.
“Who are you? Do you have a name? Where do you come from?” Olivia demanded. But the man’s lips remained firmly closed. “Where were you taking the children?”
Still not a word.
“Time is not something we are willing to waste,” Olivia said. She waited a moment for an answer, but again, there was only silence.
Olivia clutched her throne’s armrest. “Take his tongue!” she said. “He obviously doesn’t need it. I see that you had a parchment and pen with you. You can write out your response.” She looked to Montague for confirmation.
Montague nodded, appreciating her dependence on him for guidance and healing. The queen was still young and new to politics. Leading the world of Men required knowledge and truth. That was why Montague had begun to brief Olivia on his sensei’s alternate theory of creation. Although disheartened, knowing that she was equivalent to cattle in the eyes of this dark enemy from above, she had taken the news about magic and the existence of four other realms well. Olivia was bright and open-minded. But it wasn’t until Montague showed her the letters of light lifting from the pages in Gabriel’s Diary that her belief became absolute.
Lord Alexandal stomped down the council stairs. He pulled out a long knife then kicked the abductor of children behind the knees, knocking him to the floor. With a firm grip, Alexandal locked the man’s head around his right arm then gripped the prisoner’s lower jaw to expose his tongue. Before the lord’s dagger touched his lips, Gums jerked away.
“I am a man of the Eire Mountains! I live near the coast of the southern sea,” he cried.
“So you can speak. Forget the tongue. Take his hands if he refuses to cooperate again,” Olivia ordered.
The guards forced the prisoner’s hands over the edge of a table, awaiting the order to take them off.
Alexandal continued the interrogation. “Where were you taking the children, man of the southern sea?”
The man Montague knew as ‘Gums’ spoke facing his feet. “My name is Bolo. I was taking them to the caves where I reside; not to be harmed, but to be studied,” he said.
“You clearly don’t look like someone who studies anything. Are you sure that someone didn’t pay you?” Olivia pressed.
“On the contrary, I am a man of literature and forever a student of words,” Bolo said.
“I have a hard time believing that you were the mastermind behind this attempted sabotage,” Alexandal said. “Who hired you?”
Bolo looked away. He was silent once again.
“You took children against their will. The price is your hands so that you won’t be able to hold anyone against their will ever again,” Olivia said. “But I will be glad to take more than that if you don’t cooperate.”
Without an answer, Olivia gave the order. “Take his hands!”
The guard’s axe came hammering down fast, slicing straight through Bolo’s wrists. His throat strained through a long scream. Blood
