Aribor made his way through picturesque streets, which were becoming less than picturesque by the hour. Black smoke and grey wafted from homes and warehouses below. The sounds of screaming carried on the breeze as some of the occupants were denied exit by armed barbarians. These were Grumandrians in the places he passed. They were dark clad, in blacks and browns, long unruly hair of brown, red, yellow or black.
Aribor's passing thoughts were of what magic or sorcery could be created by such inhumane incidents, and yet those lingering deaths were wasted to sorcery where no sorcerer attended. He was immune to these incidents. He had seen too much to care and inflicted plenty of it himself.
There were more pleasant scenes too. Some of the female citizens of Cromilil were surrounded by a crowd of Grumandrians and Pelancirians, and had been made to undress. They were still youthful, but mature enough to be full figured and beautiful. They had been told to work for their lives, otherwise those lives would be forfeit, and had been put to work servicing the crowd of barbarian soldiers. When Aribor came within view he judged them to be doing a very effective job of work. Three of them sucked upon the aroused cocks of soldiers, to the crowd's delight, while another two took soldiers' members from behind, while they crouched naked on all fours. These were beauties, evidently selected as such. He doubted their lives would be wasted after this. Too many soldiers would desire to use them, and there would be those who would speak up on their behalf. The women of Shalirion were reputed to be great lovers, for their keen motivation towards the sexual pleasures and their open attitudes towards most comers.
Aribor entered the benches of the Council House Hall. Guthelm presided, grinning from ear to ear as he listened to the arguments of underlings who competed for his attention with the cruel jibes and threats they tossed at the 'accused'. These trials were all part of the drama of the conquest to the King. He revelled in these occasions, becoming now frequent as he ravaged parts of Shalirion. Aribor wondered why the King enjoyed these humiliations of his victims so much. The accused were not going to survive their ordeals, so why bother to stage these mock trials. There was no standard of evidence or code of conduct. The accusers and the judges could play whatever games they wanted. Aribor did not find these games particularly interesting. The accused were rarely 'criminals' in any senses of the word and the charges were more to do with rumour or exaggeration than anything real the accused might have done. Aribor did not like the soft people of Shalirion much; which of the peoples of the northern and eastern lands did? They were all jealous of Shalirion's wealth, and in a personal comparison, of the contentment and easy life of its people.
Chanceleord, Remzain's father was in the dock now. "You sir, are rich. Very rich!" accused one of Guthelm's servants, dressed all in black, a serpentine quality, in his shiny greased long black hair and his pale complexion. "How did you come by your ill gotten wealth?"
"By trade," said the merchant, who had, until today, been indisputably rich.
"Trade?" There was a snicker around the room. It was well known that Guthelm did not think much of trade. He preferred to amass his own wealth by conquest, pillage or taxation. His courtiers and closest followers cared little for trade and had little patience for it. Indeed they looked down their noses, or indeed down their swords, at people who worked patiently, making contracts and arrangements to provide food or goods for their people, expanding their own wealth at the same time.
It came to Aribor that if there had been any way able to save Remzain's father from certain death he might succeed in binding the beautiful young woman even more closely to himself - in loyalty, instead of by fear alone. The pleasure of a grateful young beauty would be far better enjoyed if she was willing, the more willing the better! He knew she would repay him in kind many times over if there was something he could do for the father. Ordinarily he would not have attempted to enter such a difficult arrangement with one of his women, but this one had a quality which far exceeded most. He actually found that he wanted to earn her loyalty. If there was something which could be done to save her father and earn her undying obedience or loyalty, he would gladly have done it. He was elated by the universal feeling she engendered in him. The urge to help someone was quite uncharacteristic of him. But he could see no way. What could he possibly say or do in Guthelm's dangerous court, which would tip the balance of cruelty and jest to save this man's life.
Aribor considered speaking out in Chanceleord's favour, but what benefit could such an outburst possibly have? What would he say? 'I have seen his daughter and she is beautiful, so please spare his life for her sake!' Or, 'I could give his beautiful daughter to you King Guthelm, or to the servant of your choice if you spare him.' How would he be able to prove her beauty when she was so distant, to make the King want her, or give her to someone? He would be laughed at by all who were close to the King. They would know he had an ulterior motive and would find his pleas quite ridiculous. Besides the only appeals he could think of were to trade Remzain for the life of her father, but such a course was of no benefit to him because he would lose the young woman.
Was there any appeal to reason or self interest? Perhaps if Chanceleord were in some way able to buy his way out of trouble, by transferring his wealth to the conquerors. But Guthelm and his closest commanders did not care for the wealth or money of Shalirion or other currency exchanges. Grumandrian wealth was based on tribute, not on fair monetary exchange. Besides whatever Chanceleord had owned was surely being destroyed or made worthless in the sack of the city and nearby provinces of it. What good was his money in the hands of 'barbarians', as the people of Shalirion called them?
And so Aribor stayed silent. There was nothing he could do. And there was no magic strong enough which he could use to aid the man up there on the platform.
Valdark was Guthelm's Chief Sorceror, a very dark figure. He was present at Chanceleord's 'trial', observing silently from the background behind the King. He was tall and somehow birdlike, a large crooked nose, a receded hairline and long blackest hair. There was no trace of grey in his hair although that might have been expected by the weight of knowledge and power which rested upon his visage. His face, pale and lined, with keen intelligence and deep cruelty in his eyes, was not easily fathomed. He approached Aribor as Chanceleord was led away in chains, while another unfortunate Councillor was brought to 'trial'.
