Ok so back to Teren. When last we left him...this weren't going very well. His mission was pretty much a failure and the King isn't happy. He and Henry were riding to the prison. Let's see what awaits them there. This scene is running a bit long and will undoubtably receive more cuts in the next draft ( just a warning). As always I would love to hear your thoughts:-)

*If anyone has an opinion, I would also love to know if the previous chapter seemed to add to the story for you or was distracting from this Teren arc.

Teren

The King said little as they rode towards the prison grounds and Teren was eager to emulate his silence. When they reached the iron gates of Portenbrough, they were greeted with deference by the guards as they dismounted and walked at a fast clip towards the building. Corporal Alar was awaiting them as soon as they entered.

"Your Majesty, Commissioner General Mather," Alar said, "we have been expecting you." He bowed deeply.

"Rise," Henry said. Teren could hear his annoyance and Alar could as well. A look of uncertainty flashed across his face as he rose but Teren was not surprised. The King had never given much credence to such formalities on the field of battle, judging all to be either friend or enemy. Given the circumstances he hoped Henry had not yet begun to suspect him of being the later. Teren decided to use the momentary awkward silence to gain some semblance of control, stepping ahead of the King to speak with his man and assert his authority. Henry made no protest.

"Corporal Alar, report." Teren said, his tone short.

"My Lord I."

"Out with it!" Teren spat, trying to make his authority clear. He could feel Henry watching him intently and wished to show himself to be possessed of the strength of a true general. He could not let the King see the fear that lay just underneath the short clip of his words.

"I believe you have heard that only one man has been so far apprehended in relation to this evening's attack," Alar replied. "The prisoner awaits you in the questioning chamber. As Chancellor Rearder ordered, the Master Executioner was been called to aid in the interrogation. He and his assistant should be prepared by now."  

The prisoner. 

Alar's words echoed in Teren's head. He thought of the first time he had met Seleb, the unfortunate victim of circumstance. He knew that whatever reprieve he had given the boy in sparing his life on that night would, in all likelihood, soon be revoked. Still he held out hope. Perhaps he was mistaken to believe it was Seleb who awaited them, and if it was, perhaps Henry could be made to see the boy's innocence.

"Lead on," the King said, cutting into Teren's thoughts as he once again took command. "We will have our answers one way or another."

Teren allowed himself to fall back behind Alar and the King, hoping to avoid the truth as long as possible.

As the large oak door of the interrogation chamber creaked open Teren's heart rate slowed to a dull thud of dread beholding the scene before him. Assembled within the dimly lit room were the requisite guards, the court scribe. Their figures looked so ominous in the light of flickering torches, so threatening.

 In the back, near a small oven, the executioner and his assistant stood, their instruments of pain warming in the fire. Against the wall, the prisoner was chained by his hands and feet. The sandy brown head of hair rose to look at them as they walked through the door, the gray eyes frantic, distraught. Seleb Hill. Teren's stomach dropped.

Staring at the boy he couldn't help but feel the distinct sense of déjà vu. It was fitting somehow, Teren realized. He and Seleb had begun their acquaintance in a chamber like this one, and would perhaps both be ended here tonight. It was not just the boy who was in danger after all. 

Though he still stood at the King' side, as they walked past the shadowy figures and he felt their eyes upon him Teren almost imagined it was he who was preparing to face the judgment of those in attendance. He knew it might well be the case soon enough. If Seleb's words implicated Teren in any way he too would be forced to answer questions, his tongue plied by the executioner's craft. The thought was not a pleasant one.

Leaving Teren behind, King walked to the chained boy with a purposeful gait, stopping in front of him and staring him down.

"So you are the one?" he asked. "The man responsible for tonight's carnage. Are you proud of yourself traitor?"

"Your Majesty," Seleb said in awe as he registered the King standing before him. The boy tried to bow his head as best he could. Henry's cold stare was his only response.

"I swear to you," Seleb continued. "I am one of your loyal subjects. I have already told the men who brought me here. I did not commit whatever crime I am charged with. I would never betray the Empire."

Teren could see the absolute sincerity in the boy's words but Henry's gaze remained hard. As Seleb raised his head to meet Henry's eyes, the King backhanded him hard across the face cutting open his lip. Teren winced in spite of himself as blood trickled from the side of Seleb's mouth. He hoped no one had noticed.

"Are you calling me a liar?" The King demanded.

Seleb's eyes widened in response the King's reaction, no doubt horrified to have inadvertently offended the monarch further. 

"Of course I would never dream to do so, " he responded quickly. "But your Majesty has been given false information."

The boy cringed as Henry reached out and grabbed his arm tightly, turning it over to expose the rebel mark.

 "Is that not the sign of a traitor?" he demanded

"I..." Seleb looked to Teren perhaps expecting him to come to his defense.

"And this?" Henry said, staring at the eagle crest Teren himself had burned into the unfortunate boy's flesh. "The mark of a criminal. Still, you dare claim loyalty to the Crown?"

"I was employed by the Empire to spy on the Vox Populi. I am not a traitor!"

The King's face relaxed as he released the boy's arm. "Of course not," he said calmly, "But then again, we can't be too sure." Teren watched as Henry's expression hardened again.

"Put him on the rack," he ordered. The boy's eyes grew wide. 

"No! Sire please," the boy protested, his words more panicked now. "I will answer any questions you ask of me. I am your loyal servant!"

"We will soon find out," Henry answered, turning his back on him.

Two guards released Seleb's shackles and the executioner stepped forward, stripping the clothes from the boy's body, replacing them with a loincloth before dragging him to the rack. As Seleb struggled against his captors, he continued to proclaim his innocence.

 Teren looked on, wishing desperately that there was something he could do but fearful to speak. He knew well enough he must tread carefully lest he find himself accused of collaboration with his informant. Yet watching the King stand patiently waiting for the executioner and his assistants to ready their victim he knew he must say something.

"Your Majesty," Teren said, walking beside Henry and speaking discreetly. "Before you begin questioning the prisoner by torture, I must tell you that I do indeed know this boy. Seleb Hill has been the informing on the rebel activities for the past year." 

"What of it?" Henry answered, his voice cold. 

"He may in fact be telling the truth."

"We are ready, your Majesty." The executioner said, interrupting them.

"Excellent," Henry replied. "Let us see what answers we might procure with a bit of added motivation." Ignoring Teren entirely, the King turned to address Seleb.

"Now boy," he said, "whenever you answer well, you will be praised and no harm will come to you. For every false answer you give, I will tell my man here to tighten the gears of this device, and your limbs will be slowly stretched until you grow to be quite...tall." He snorted at his own cruel joke. "I suggest that you answer honestly."

To Teren's relief, Seleb did not protest.

Please, Seleb, Teren thought to himself, please be able to give him the answers he wants.

"Now then," the King continued. " Were you involved in the events at the House of Lords this evening?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Very good," Henry said. Teren could hear the poison laced in his tone. He wondered if Seleb understood how much danger her was truly in. How much danger they both were in. This was Teren's failed mission. If the boy should say anything incriminating...

"And were you the one who informed my man here that the Vox Populi planned to attack the building at the completion of the evening's events by placing an explosive device beneath the stage of the great hall in the House of Lords." He nodded towards Teren, who felt an uncomfortable shiver travel up his spine.

"Yes, my Lord."

"And did you or did you not mislead Commission General Mather in giving him that information."

Teren could see the fear in the boy's eyes as he tried to decide how best to answer. "I didn't know!" Seleb said finally, his tone desperate.

Henry lifted his hand and held up one finger towards the executioner and the man turned the wheel of the rack one click to the right.

Seleb squeezed his eyes shut, as his body was pulled taut.

"That was not what I asked," the King said. "Please listen more closely." He paused for a moment before trying the question again. "Did you or did you not give commissioner Mather that information?"

Seleb's eyes searched out Teren's staring at him pitifully but there was nothing he could do for him. Teren met the boy's gaze, forcing his face into an expressionless mask. He could not risk showing any sympathy for his former informant.

"Yes, Sire," Seleb answered, defeated.

"You see," Henry said. "The truth will set you free." He gave a tight-lipped smile. "Do you confess to willfully providing false information knowing full well that the rebels planned to attack at the onset of the meeting? That they had obtained illegal arms and intended to fire from the balcony within the great hall?"

"No, I didn't. I."

"Do you also confess your culpability for the deaths of the two noblemen killed tonight in the attack?" Henry asked, cutting Seleb off before he could finish speaking."To the bombings of the buildings adjacent to the House of Lords? To the loss of life, of property?

A look of shock spread across the boy's face. "What?" 

Teren felt desperately sorry for his informant. He wondered if Seleb even knew the full extent of what had transpired in the meeting hall that night. The boy should have run. Hearing Henry's questions it was clear enough the man had no real expectation of answers now, no desire to hear reason. He wanted revenge on those responsible for the attack and, without another to shoulder the weight of his anger, Seleb would face the full force of the King's rage.

"Do you confess to the cold-blooded murder of the unfortunate victims of your heinous crime?' Henry asked again, this time with more venom in his tone.

"No, Sire," Seleb answered quickly. "It was not me. I had no idea. I would never have." The panic continued to grow with every attempt of defense. He tried again. "I didn't know!"

The King held up his hand. "I'm afraid that is the wrong answer," he said as he raised two fingers. The executioner twisted the great wheel two clicks more. This time Seleb cried out in response. Teren could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"And do you also confess to the attempt that was made on my own life. The life of your holy King and sovereign leader!"

"No. No, you must believe me. I would never do such a thing. I would never."

Henry raised another finger and the wheel turned again.

"Ah!" An agonized cry of fear and pain. "I swear I don't know anything more!" the boy panted. "I...I didn't." There were tears streaming down his face now as he struggled for words to save himself. Stretched taut, Seleb's thin form showed off each rib clearly as his chest heaved, taking in panicked gulps of air. His body glistened with sweat.

"I was deceived by the rebel leaders. They must have known I was reporting to the empire. Harrison must have known! I would never..."

Seleb's words were cut off as the rack was tightened again and he gasped, eyes closing tight.

"Why did you abandon your post? Answer quickly!"

"I will answer, Majesty," he breathed, clearly struggling to focus through the pain. "Please, I will tell you anything you wish to know."

Henry held up a hand and the executioner relaxed his grip on the evil machine, the ropes slackening ever so slightly.

"Go on," he said.

"I reported the final details involving the planned attack on the House of Lords to The Commissioner General one week ago. I told him that I would be charged to watch the kegs of gunpowder along with one of my colleagues. That Harrison would ignite at the conclusion of the assembly from beneath the hall. After the attack we were meant to escape through the back entrance and disappear in the ensuing commotion. I knew Lord Mather would focus on positioning his men there based on that knowledge."

Teren noticed the surprise on the faces of the guards as well as that of the scribe who recorded the interrogation off to the side. He could almost hear all present take a collective gasp as the prisoner essentially condemned himself. He had admitted willingly to spreading the false intelligence that had nearly cost the King his life. But the boy did not stop, the words speeding from his lips as if certain they would bring about his salvation.

"So you lied," Henry said, cutting him off before he could continue to explain.

"No. If you would only listen I."

At a nod from the King, the executioner's hands came to life as he moved to tighten the rack.

"Please!" the desperate boy cried. Henry stopped the torture device once again.

"It was a lie."

"I believed it to be the truth." Seleb insisted. "Before I could even arrive at my post, my commander informed me that the plan had changed. He gave me a new post to guard and I could not get away. He told me I would be stationed alone. I had no idea what they intended to do. If I had, I would have done everything in my power to report back to the Empire."

"I'm certain you would have," Henry replied doing nothing to mask his sarcasm. "And what are the rebel's plans now?"

"I don't know."

The King lifted his hand, more decisively this time. With a few clicks of the gears, the chamber filled with a sickening cracking sound and an audible pop as the boy's shoulder dislocated from its socket. Seleb screamed in agony the sound reverberating against the walls of the large stone chamber, echoing in Teren's ears.

"Where are the rebels hiding now?"

"I don't know!" Seleb said again, his jaw clenched, his face contorted in a horrible grimace. "Believe," he breathed, "You have to believe me. We were staying an inn," he managed to choke out. "Under the Briar Rose Inn. But I..." another agonized intake of breath. "Don't think they would go back. I don't know where they would hide next. Our leader never told me."

The King looked at the boy a moment before turning to the executioner. "Proceed to the next degree," he said.

The executioner turned a knob on the horrible machine and Teren saw a set of small sharp spikes protrude from the wood underneath the boy's back. Again Seleb screamed. An ear shattering scream of shock and pain. The executioner tightened the rack slightly, raking his unfortunate victim's back against the metal spikes. Small drops of red dripped down onto the stone floor.

"Confess you filthy traitor." the King demanded. "You will tell us where your comrades are hiding!"

Teren could take it no more. He reached out a hand touching the King's arm to stay his hand before he could command the executioner to tighten the rack again.

"Henry," he said, trying to keep any semblance of emotion from his voice. "I truly believe he does not know anything. There is no point to this."

The King's glare was lethal.

"How dare you touch me," he hissed.

Teren retracted his hand immediately as if he had been bitten.

"Forgive me, your Majesty," he said quickly, bowing his head slightly for good measure. "It's just...I do not think he can stand much more. If this continues I believe he will die."

"So be it."

"He has been a very valuable asset."

The King stared at him, his face as immovable as stone, gaze equally as cold. "Lord Mather," he said slowly, "It has been a long and trying evening for us all so I will attribute your current inappropriate conduct to exhaustion. I'm certain you would agree that the boy's value as an asset has been compromised. Whether or not he knowingly gave you misinformation, he is nonetheless responsible for the damage caused by doing so. He must now be made to pay for him crimes."

Teren began to open his mouth but seeing the look in Henry's eyes thought better of it.

"Yes, my Lord," Teren answered, casting his gaze down in submission.

Henry stared at him as if considering something. "I will however take your word that the prisoner might indeed have no more to offer for now," the King said after a moment. "Although," he added with a pointed stare, "if we missed something tonight on your say so, it is you who will be held accountable." Teren looked at Seleb, his naked form stretched out unnaturally, the executioner looming nearby. He saw the boy's face twisted in pain, pleading for relief.

"Yes, Sire," he replied. "I understand."

Henry nodded. "Regardless, I have made my decision." The King turned to the executioner. "The prisoner will stand for sentencing," he commanded.

This, in fact, took a fair amount of effort. Teren watched the unfortunate boy as he was taken from the rack, limp and bloody. Two guards were necessary to hold his thin arms and support his weight. It seemed he could not stand on his own which was hardly surprising. He could only imagine what pain the boy was in.

"The prisoner Seleb Hill had confessed to crimes of high treason and has, by his own admission, been found guilty in the eyes of the Empire," Henry decreed. "In accordance to law, he is to be punished accordingly and is hereby sentenced to death. In three days time, the prisoner is to be dragged on a hurdle to the place of execution in the central Market square, there, to be hanged until he is half dead, after, to be cut down alive. His bowls and privy parts are to be removed and burned before his eyes, his head severed from his neck, his body quartered and left to rot upon the four posts that surround the scaffold."

Teren's ears pricked to the fast scratching of the prison scribe's quill as he recorded the King's words but Seleb himself seemed to be beyond hearing, making no protest as he was condemned. He had been given the harshest punishment available in the books of law. The penalty for high treason. It wasn't right. Perhaps the boy was no innocent but it was Harrison who deserved to pay for the evening's disaster. He couldn't stand by and say nothing in his informant's defense.

"Sire, perhaps some level of leniency might be prudent." Teren said, his voice low as he stepped in close to the King. "After all, the boy has been instrumental in obtaining information on the Vox Populi for the better part of a year."

"Are you questioning me, Commissioner?" As Henry faced him, Teren could feel the waver in his resolve and he found it difficult to hold the King's gaze.

"Of course not your Majesty," he said quickly, "It's just that."

"This "boy," as you call him, he is traitor to Erestia is he not?" Henry said, cutting him off. "He is a member of the same despicable rebel faction that you and I fought so desperately to crush in the Northernlands. The same group that has been responsible for terror and destruction throughout Erestia for nearly twenty years. The mark on his arm is proof enough of that."

"He joined the Rebellion as a spy under my command," Teren answered, but immediately closed his mouth again as the King's eyes narrowed in response.

"And are you so certain of his loyalty, Lord Mather?" he pressed. 

Teren hesitated to answer. Was it possible that he'd been wrong all along? He didn't believe it, but he could not risk his life on such a gamble.

"Did not this man's deception and misinformation lead to the death of two of our great leaders this very evening, and nearly cost me my life?" Henry continued.

"All of what you say is true," Teren answered carefully. "But."

The King held up a hand to stop Teren's words. "There are no buts," he said. "All traitors shall be punished to the fullest extent of the law."

"He is little more than a child, Henry." Teren felt ill. He knew he should stop. He must stop. But somehow the words tumbled unbidden from his mouth. "Do you not think that the people will be at ill ease to see such a harsh sentence inflicted on one so young?"

"Indeed," Henry agreed. "In witnessing this villain's end the Empire will see what monsters comprise the people's rebellion. How desperate they are, that they would force a mere boy to commit high treason knowing full well the consequences. I can hardly imagine something more sickening." He glared at Teren. "Can you?"

Teren glanced at the Seleb as his limp form was redressed, a deep crimson seeping through the thin cloth of his shirt. The boy's dull eyes fixated on Teren as they carried him from the room, seeming to silently beg for help. Teren turned back to the King and shook his head.

"No, Sire, I cannot," he said answered, entirely defeated. There was no point in sacrificing both of their lives to the King's anger.

Henry put a hand on his shoulder. "Go home Teren. Get some rest. You seem unwell."

"Yes, Majesty. Forgive me. You are correct, I believe I am simply exhausted." The King nodded once, but Teren could still feel the danger shining through his momentary sympathy.

"I will give you two days," Henry said. "After that I expect you to return to your duty and preside over the execution. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord." Teren nodded his head in submission.

As the King left, the others followed suit, but somehow Teren seemed unable to force himself from the room. His eyes fixated on the blood stained rack as the executioner and his assistants set about their business cleaning and packing the gruesome tools of their trade.

It was not the first time in his career that he had questioned the righteousness of an order and felt his conscience rebel against a command. But somehow this was different. He wasn't sure why. Teren stood there for what seemed like eternity but was probably no more than a few seconds. The executioner had noticed his presence and stared. The cold eyes on his skin made him made him sufficiently uneasy enough to motivate his leaden feet back to life, as he turned to leave the room of torture.

This boy should not matter to him, he told himself. How many had he seen brutally mangled? He was a soldier. There was no end to the horrors he had seen, that he himself had inflicted. And yet, Seleb's face haunted him.

Teren cursed himself, knowing that he had made a fatal flaw in allowing himself to feel anything towards his informant. He knew better. The second one assigned a name to his enemies even just actions became more...complicated. The one thing Teren could not afford right now was complications. Of course, Seleb was not his enemy. Or perhaps he was. The boy had  failed him. He'd nearly cost him everything and still might. Teren realized the repercussions of the evening's fiasco were still yet to be determined.

Henry had appeared forgiving, but there was no telling the level of culpability King might later assign to Teren for the disaster at the House of Lords, particularly under the advisement of Chancellor Rearder. He shuddered slightly at the thought. The man had been trying to bring Teren down since his arrival at court. The failure of tonight's mission might yet be enough for him to finally succeed at the task. The wise thing to do, if given the chance, would be to act as a model servant to the crown and keep his head down as much as possible until the whole mess had blown over.

Teren decided to put the matter out of his head for the time being. There was certainly couldn't do anything about the situation tonight. For now, the boy would be held in the cells of the prison. Certainly not the most agreeable of accommodations, but given the extent of his injuries Seleb would be treated delicately enough. His wounds would be tended to, his basic needs provided for. They wouldn't want him to expire before the execution after all.  

The King clearly intended to show that the Crown would grant no mercy to anyone associated with the Vox Populi and tonight's crime. For that, he would want a live victim to make an example of. One who might face the full excruciating sentence, very much able to suffer until the end.

It was well after one o'clock in the morning by the time Teren, exhausted, climbed into bed alongside his wife. Carlotta stirred slightly at his touch, gazing at him with heavy eyes. She smiled.

"I missed you, my Lord," she said sleepily, moving towards him and pressing her body in close. "I had so hoped you would return to warm our bed." It was clear she had no idea what had transpired. Her innocence was heartbreaking. 

Teren placed an arm around his wife, feeling her soft warmth against his skin. As he brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead gently she sighed, her body relaxing back in slumber, curled against him. But Teren could not join her repose. Instead, he lay there for hours, eyes open against the darkness listening to Carlotta's shallow breath, picturing the mangled form of his prisoner on the floor of a hard stone cell, praying for sleep to release him from the torture of his thoughts.