Chapter 177

Albedo tended the improvised bar with a welcoming smile on her face. The 'bar' such as it was, was composed of crates and barrels with a simple flat board on top of it at each of three sides. At her back, Illyana attended to protecting the money and quickly washing out wooden steins and cups for reuse.

Attempting to use her for all tasks proved too great a burden, using her at the bar proved that the humans on the border would not respect an elf.

So Albedo calmly slid a big mug over the wood to the latest customer and asked, "So are you going to watch the trial? I can't believe how secretive everything has been, it's like they're trying to hide something." She said and unleashed her pheromones against the utterly defenseless male.

The unwashed soldier in the off-white tabard in front of his armor frowned a little, "You think?"

"Sure, a single soldier puts down a dragon, befriends it, can you imagine how helpful that would be in protecting the border from the demihumans? But you know who doesn't get credit? The Holy Queen, the Paladin Commander, the nobles… think about how corrupt things have been lately. Do you really think it's a coincidence that the Baraja girl, a member of an important noble house, is on trial at the same time as all the other things going on? It's a plot," Albedo rested her chin on her hand and her elbow on the bar. "Don't you think?" She asked.

"It's such a shame nobody will do anything about this, they'd rather you die by the thousand rather than give someone else the credit for anything." Albedo empathized with the scruffy looking Paladin, he took up his mug with a troubled expression on his face and mumbled something incomprehensible before he walked away.

Behind her, Illyana quietly marked another line on an unlabeled wooden board.

The soldier downed his mug and started chatting with three others served several minutes earlier. Albedo's sharp demon ears caught every word, and what she heard made the smile on her face quite genuine.

"...The lady's got a point. A big trial for the Mad Eyed Archer's successor, a dragon tamer no less, right at a time when there are allegations of corruption in the government itself? Come on, she's being set up."

Lust and alcohol-addled minds conjured up stories of their own, and the dragon taming daughter of the Mad Eyed Archer had her legend grow with every cup.

And it continued each night as those chosen for the trial came in. Albedo exploited it to the fullest.

As soon as the first of the nobles came in with their array of retainers and tagalongs, she and Illyana were prepared. Her pheromones lured men and women alike, and within an hour she was posting a sign…

[Reserved for nobles from sundown to gloaming].

With their fine steeds and vibrant themes of blue and white clothing, all of which had some variation of the national symbol and their family crests prominently emblazoned on their expensive silks and linens, they were the picture of privilege and status. Their retainers walked with the confident swagger of those who knew that their service to the powerful bought them license to act out.

They were the young, the arrogant, the proud, the destined for greatness, and despite the divide of both species and origin, Illyana and Albedo found common ground in their mutual loathing for the lords, ladies, and their retainers.

But they were useful.

Illyana worked quietly out of view, for good measure and extra protection for herself, she hid her ears by wearing a scarlet scarf that held them tightly against her head and layered so that the outline of her ears would not be visible and so not to create instant hostility toward her presence.

Albedo however, pressed the point home. She made a show of her swagger and swaying hips, casting favorable glances at the nobles and laying down frothing mugs while giving pitying eyes to those who eagerly waited in the wings for the chance to give her their hard earned money.

And when the nobles finally filtered away to avoid socialising with common soldiers, she put a soft looking hand on the few crates she set up as seating areas and said to each one, "Forgive me, but the Lords and Ladies here to judge one of your fellows demanded primacy for themselves. It's so unfair, you do the fighting and the dying, like that lone Paladin in the wilderness, and yet you cannot even drink until darkness because they don't want to see you. Strange that they're also the ones to judge you…"

She made it rankle… day after day…

Night… after…

Night.

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Neia had no idea how much time really passed for her within the isolated cell, though her father came for her frequently, and her mother came almost as often, all she could do with herself was 'wait'. The chains on her wrists chaffed, her hair became bedraggled.

Neia lowered her nose toward her armpit and took a sniff. She smelled. 'That's not good. My nose should be dead to the smell of my own body, and if I can smell myself, I probably reek to the heights of heaven.' As it couldn't be helped, she simply 'waited'.

The clinking of the door was the only thing that made her shift her gaze from the blank rough wall and over to the string of bars between her and the promise of liberty. Her knees pulled up to her chest, Neia's mind turned toward her patient, 'If Olasird'arc died then I'm sure somebody would have told me.' She reached down to the bread in the bowl of water and took a bite of the soggy black stuff.

It was flavorless stuff not meant to be enjoyed, just to delay starvation. She chewed a little and let it slide down her throat just as her visitor came into view.

"Hello, traitor." Remedios was glaring down at her with a face filled with hatred and loathing. Her smooth and youthful face was marred by the upturned sneer.

"I'm not a traitor, or a collaborator." Neia spat back and gave a long steady look at her order's Commander.

"You helped a dragon, you spared the lives of demihumans. That's evil." Remedios said and put a hand on one of the bars, she squeezed the iron enough that it began to bend inward under the grip of her fingers.

"Did they offer you gold, silver, or were you so easily bought that you did it for coppers?" Remedios asked.

Neia looked at her former superior and gave her a slow shake of her head, but said nothing. "Someone like you, would never understand. Now what do you want, Remedios?"

"To watch you hang. That's why I'm here, to collect you for your trial. Stand up." Remedios gave the order and Neia slowly followed it.

She stretched when she was on her feet, letting out a satisfied groan when the chains swayed over her head when she put her hands up high and arched her back. "You came yourself, not the guards?"

Remedios showed no pleasure at the passive observation. "Just get out here." She gave the brusque command and waited while Neia obeyed, approaching the door when Remedios opened it up. "Vicious little bitch." The Paladin Order's Commander muttered and put her sword to Neia's back as soon as the squire stepped through the opening and faced the exit.

"Let's get this over with." Neia spat onto the stone and walked toward the exit of the prison.

When she did, it was to sights and sounds unimaginable to her.

The fortress city was like a single living organism… and yet now it was silent as if the whole place had simply 'died'.

Lining walls, rooftops and what passed for streets, the greatest bulwark against the Demihuman invasion was packed with people, and yet Neia's sharpened senses barely detected a cough.

'If this is how it's to be, then so be it.' Neia told herself, straightened her back, and strode with steady, military steps over first the stone, and then the hard packed earth. The shame of her shoeless feet, the pathetic prisoner sack that served as her garment marked to identify her as a captive, she wore her naked skin and rough sack like badges of honor.

'I've looked worse in the wilds.' She told herself, and kept her eyes forward as full plate armored soldiers fell in at Remedios Custodio's back and their halberds came down on either side with tips to her throat so that even one hesitant step would bring blood into the air.

Albedo watched with smug satisfaction as all her rumor mongering and skills turned a better than average huntress of the wilds into a legend that needed the tightest security to guard against. 'She looks the part, I'll give her that much.'

Neia walked without missing a second, her chains rattled as she moved, and when she came closer to the place of trial, where she could see the stand where she was to be secured, with iron bars affixed to heavy stone, itself set tightly into the ground, a double box of wooden seats where the nobles and a few soldiers stood waiting for the judge, it was, in a word, ominous.

Or should have been.

But her heartbeat was steady, 'I was never going to have a quiet end.' Neia told herself and smiled, 'Though I didn't think my last battle would be one quite like this, it could be worse.' She would have shrugged, but chose instead to keep her shoulders squared while the drums began to play her approach and summon the judge into position.

When she reached the place she was to stand, a shaky handed guard whose armor clinked with his nerves, secured her pliant and relaxed hands to the iron crossbar that would keep her from escaping, and to Neia's surprise, Gustav Montagne approached and stood behind the judge's podium.

Remedios, for her part, stood directly behind Neia with her sword out and the tip pressed against the prisoner's back.

"The Trial of Neia Baraja, will now begin!" The judge called out, and the drums ceased to beat, restoring silence until he said, "Let the prosecutor begin the Questioning."