Of Blood and Honor (8 page)

Tirion persisted. “Damn it, Saidan! This is a matter of honor! Don’t you understand that?” he growled through clenched teeth.

“I stand witness to his treachery, milord,” Barthilas said proudly to Dathrohan. Obviously the young Paladin sought to make up for his defeat by endearing himself to the conflicted Lord Commander.

“Shut up, Barthilas!” Dathrohan growled. With a heavy heart, he motioned for the footmen to subdue Tirion. “You leave me no choice here, Tirion. I hereby charge you with treason against the Alliance! Captain Arden, see that the prisoner is bound and placed upon his horse. He will be taken to Stratholme along with this orc and put on trial.”

Arden bowed his head in sorrow. Slowly, he tied Tirion’s hands together and led him to his horse. “I am sorry, milord,” Arden said, looking Tirion in the eye.

Tirion frowned at his loyal servant. “It is I who am sorry, Arden. This is all my own doing. What I’ve done, I’ve done for honor’s sake,” Tirion said softly.

Arden shook his head questioningly. “Tirion, what honor is there in betrayal?” he asked in a whisper.

“I am a Paladin of the Light, Arden. You wouldn’t understand.” Arden helped him up on his horse. Dathrohan rode up to Tirion and stared at him.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” the Lord Commander said. Tirion avoided his old friend’s gaze. Dathrohan, overcome by frustration and sorrow, angrily turned away and motioned for his troops to move out.

A  Trial  of  Will

T
irion sat in a small holding cell that was adjacent to the Hall of Justice, where his trial was to be held. Through a small window, cut high into the cell’s wall, he could hear the sounds of commerce and activity emanating from the bustling marketplace of Stratholme. Periodically he heard hammering sounds coming from the main square. The city’s clamorous sounds were very different from the relaxing rural din of Mardenholde keep. Fervently, he wished he were back there now. He had no idea how his trial would go, but he had the distinct impression that no matter what happened in the court, his life would be irrevocably changed. He thought about his family and the life of affluence and ease he’d shared with them. Despite himself, he wondered if he hadn’t thrown it all away on a fanciful, selfish whim.

He had been held in custody for three days. Today he was to be tried for treason against the land he had spent his life defending. He could scarcely believe it, but depending on what the court decided, he could face either execution or spending the rest of his days in prison. Karandra would never forgive him for taking such a risk for the sake of honor alone. He wondered if he’d be able to forgive himself if his wife was forced to raise their son alone. He laughed softly to himself. He always believed that the only thing that could possibly keep him from his loved ones was the enemy.
What have I done?
he asked himself over and over.

He was surprised to hear footsteps echo through the adjacent corridor.
Surely, the proceedings haven’t started yet,
he thought miserably. He heard the guards outside the door question someone as the latch clicked and the door opened.

Arden walked somberly into the room. Tirion brightened somewhat and shook his friend’s hand.

“It’s good to see you, Arden. Have you been home since my arrest? Have you spoken with my wife?” he asked hurriedly.

Arden shook his head and motioned for Tirion to sit down on his cot. “No. They won’t allow me to leave until the trial is finished, milord,” the captain stated flatly. “I don’t know if Karandra’s been told or not.”

Tirion scowled. He knew she must be beside herself with worry. “What of the orc?” Tirion asked. “What did they do with him?”

Arden tensed. “Why do you care, Tirion? It is your enemy! I don’t understand why you’re so concerned about it! There’s no way the creature would have saved your life! It’s a mindless brute!” Arden spat.

Tirion looked him square in the eye. “Just answer me, Captain,” Tirion said as calmly as he could. He had to watch his tone—Arden might be the only friend he had left.

“They’ve been interrogating the creature for the past few nights,” Arden said. “Apparently, it didn’t offer up anything they didn’t already know. I heard some of the local guards boasting about how they’d beaten the hell out of it. They’re going to hang the wretched beast tomorrow morning in the square.”

Tirion’s heart sank. Eitrigg was going to die, and it was all his fault. Somehow, he had to find a way to make amends—to put things right.

Arden sensed Tirion’s tension. “Milord, they might execute you for this,” Arden began. “If you confess and claim that you lost your senses, maybe they’ll relent and let you go. Surely this matter isn’t worth dying for! You’re a Lord Paladin, for the Light’s sake! People depend on you! You’ve got to snap out of this!” the captain finished heatedly.

Tirion only shook his head. “I can’t, Arden. It is a matter of honor. I swore to protect the orc, and I betrayed that vow. Whatever punishment they charge me with, it is well deserved.”

Arden ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “This makes no sense, Tirion. Think about your wife and child!” Arden yelled.

Tirion stood up to face him. “I am, old friend. What kind of example would I set for my son if my word counted for nothing? What kind of man would I be seen as then?” Tirion asked.

Arden turned away, bristling. “It’s not that simple, and you know it!” the captain bellowed. “Just admit that you made a mistake! Admit that you were wrong to side with the orc, and they might be lenient! Why do we even have to discuss this? Have you lost all sense, man?”

Just then the door opened and two guards stepped in. “You’ll have to leave now, Captain,” one of the guards said. “We are to escort the prisoner to the Hall now.” Arden gave Tirion a last, pleading look and marched out the door in a huff.

Tirion straightened and attempted to look as proud and confident as he could. “I am ready, gentlemen,” he said to them. They bound his hands and led him outside. The bright, midday sun caused Tirion to wince slightly. His limbs were tired and cramped from the past few days of inactivity. The guards marched him across the square toward the imposing structure of the Hall of Justice. Out of the corner of his eye, Tirion caught sight of the gallows’ scaffolding being erected. He surmised that it was the source of the hammering he had been hearing. Briefly, he visualized Eitrigg standing upon the gallows with a rope tied around his neck. Tirion had to work hard in order to keep his forced semblance of confidence. If Eitrigg died, then all his efforts would have been for nothing.

*    *    *

An hour later, Tirion was seated in a large oaken chair in the middle of the polished courtroom floor. Before him was an immense stage adorned with four throne-like chairs. At the center of the stage, directly in front of him, was a large lectern where the judge would conduct the trial. Above the stage was an enormous white flag bearing a stylized blue letter
L,
which signified the Alliance of Lordaeron. Lining the vast walls of the chamber were other huge banners representing the seven nations of the Alliance. A large blue banner embroidered with a golden lion signified the kingdom of Stormwind. Another banner, black with a red-gauntleted fist, represented the kingdom of Stromgarde. Tirion was too nervous to look around at the others.

Though he could not bear to turn around and see his comrades’ accusing faces, he could hear a hundred voices whispering and muttering at once throughout the grandiose chamber. Through the din, he discerned that everyone in attendance was shocked to hear that he had betrayed them. Many of the onlookers had served under his command during the war, and many others he considered to be good friends. He could feel their communal confusion and scorn buffet him in waves. His trial would not be an easy one.

Far to his right, he caught sight of Barthilas sitting in attendance. The young Paladin had a condemning look in his eye as he gazed intently at Tirion. Tirion wondered why the youth had turned on him so completely and been so eager to see him disgraced. He turned away from Barthilas as another armored Paladin made his way to the front of the stage.

“Defenders of Lordaeron,” the Paladin said in a clear voice, “today we stand in judgment of one of our own. The trial of Lord Tirion Fordring will now commence.”

Tirion realized that his palms were sweating. He had to physically restrain himself from shaking. He knew that the four jurors would enter the Hall soon. Every major trial in Lordaeron was presided over by four of the highest-ranking lords within the Alliance. Tirion was sure that he’d recognize many of them as his peers. The attendant onlookers hushed as the first of the jurors entered.

“All hail Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore of Kul’Tiras,” the Paladin said as the tall, lanky figure walked across the stage. Lord Proudmoore took the throne-like seat on the far right with a look of disquiet on his proud face. Tirion knew Proudmoore well. Despite being a tactical genius, the Lord Admiral was one of the greatest heroes of the war. His officer’s uniform and large, ceremonial hat were deep blue and adorned with golden medals and pins signifying his rank as master of the Alliance’s navies.

The Paladin spoke again. “All hail Arch-Mage Antonidas of the Magocracy of Dalaran,” he said as the second juror strode in. A hush descended upon the crowd as the mysterious wizard took his seat. His lavender hooded robe was adorned with black and gold trim, and he carried a great, polished staff in his hands. Ever distrustful of magic, Tirion hadn’t had many dealings with wizards over the years, and was somewhat disconcerted to find that his fate was now in the hands of one. He looked back to the Paladin as the last two jurors were announced.

The venerable Archbishop, Alonsus Faol, who had anointed Tirion as a Paladin long ago, walked in and took a seat next to the lectern.

Following the Archbishop was the young prince of Lordaeron, Arthas, who had only recently been made a full Paladin. Tirion had never met the young prince before, but he could see that the handsome youth radiated goodness and wisdom despite his relatively young age. Tirion wished fervently that Barthilas had had the prince’s composure, days before.

With the jurors assembled, the Paladin motioned for everyone to rise for the judge’s entrance. All of the attendant men and women rose as Uther the Lightbringer entered the Hall and walked forward to the ornate lectern. The mighty, holy patron of the Knights of the Silver Hand scanned the assembly with stern eyes the color of ocean storms. His ornately etched silver armor seemed to reflect every light source in the vast Hall—bathing Uther in a halo of shimmering beauty. Uther was the first Paladin, and was held to be the mightiest warrior amongst the armies of the Alliance. He was also held to be the wisest and most noble of all the holy Paladins. Everyone in the room was cowed by his commanding presence.

Tirion’s mind reeled. Up until that point, he was resolved to stand by his decision and accept his fate with honor. But, looking up at the stern visage of his powerful superior, his courage wavered.
Perhaps Arden was right?
he thought frantically.
Maybe he should beg for the court’s mercy and forget that he ever made a vow to an enemy of humanity?
His thoughts were disrupted as the Lightbringer’s powerful, melodious voice filled his ears.

“Lord Paladin Fordring,” Uther began. “You are charged with treason against the Alliance and failing to obey a direct order given to you by your superior. As you know, this is a dire charge. The noble lords gathered here will hear your case and judge you accordingly under the Light. How do you plead to the charges against you?” Tirion clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. He barely found the voice to answer.

“I am guilty as charged, milord. I accept full responsibility for my actions,” Tirion said.

A hundred angry voices flooded the room at once. Apparently, many of the onlookers had believed the charges to be greatly exaggerated or false. The assembly was shocked to hear Tirion admit his guilt so openly. Tirion looked behind him to watch the crowd’s raucous reaction. He caught sight of Arden sitting right behind him. The captain’s tortured expression seemed to plead to Tirion to reconsider his position. Tirion had to look away. Arden believed in him and had always served him loyally. But the captain would never understand. . . .

Uther’s voice boomed out as the mighty Paladin commanded the assembly to silence. The gathered host went quiet as if it had been struck by lightning. Tirion could almost feel an electrical tension in the air. He braced himself.

“Very well,” Uther said evenly. “Let the record show that Lord Paladin Fordring has entered a plea of guilty.”

Tirion watched as the four jurors conversed amongst themselves for a brief moment. Lord Proudmoore ended the discussion and motioned for Uther to continue.

“Let Lord Commander, Saidan Dathrohan, come forward and give his testimony,” Uther commanded. The crowd stirred slightly as Dathrohan walked toward the stage. He stopped and stood solemnly next to Tirion’s chair. The two friends exchanged fleeting glances. Dathrohan could only nod sorrowfully at Tirion.

“Lord Commander Dathrohan, you have charged this man with treason. Please explain for the court the occurrence and the nature of this man’s alleged infraction,” Uther said.

Dathrohan cleared his throat and straightened slightly. “My lords, I do wish to state for the record that Tirion Fordring has always been a man of honor and nobility. But I cannot deny what I saw with my own eyes. Four days ago, I led a detachment into the Hearthglen Woods in search of renegade orcs. Lord Fordring assisted me with the exercise and helped me to track down the orc that we currently hold in our prison for execution. When I gave the command to arrest the creature, Lord Fordring turned upon my men and attempted to set the orc free. I asked him repeatedly to desist, but he would not relent. It is with a heavy heart that I give this testimony,” Dathrohan finished. Once again, murmurs and hushed whispers floated through the Hall. The jurors discussed Dathrohan’s words as Uther addressed the court again.