Pendragon

Chapter 4: The court of the king

People ran as fast as their legs could carry them, men and women, boys and girls alike, all running to one place.

The Castle.

It was a rare occasion to be invited to the castle. It usually meant something was worth celebrating or something had gone terribly wrong.

And there was no celebration this time.

Word spread like wildfire even before the castle invitation was issued. Everybody had already heard. Everybody had an idea of what it would be about.

The Perde massacre.

It was the most talked-about thing in the kingdom currently. A prestigious noble house had been almost completely wiped out, leaving only one survivor.

The castle's towering gates were wide open, with people freely moving in and out as they pleased.

People spoke amongst themselves, each murmuring their own thoughts on the matter as they waited patiently for what was supposed to happen.

Then finally, the great doors of the throne room groaned open.

Silence followed.

Not because anyone had been told to be quiet.

Because no one dared speak over the man who entered.

A tall figure stepped through the doorway with measured, unhurried strides. A crimson mantle draped across his broad shoulders, embroidered with threads of gold that shimmered beneath the chandeliers. Upon his brow rested a simple golden crown with a golden lion insignia engraved upon it, elegant rather than extravagant, as though it had no need to prove the authority it represented.

His greying hair had begun to surrender to age, yet it only lent him greater dignity. Sharp amber eyes swept across the hall once—calm, unreadable, and commanding enough that every noble instinctively lowered their gaze.

This was no warrior who ruled through fear.

Nor a scholar who ruled through wisdom.

This was a king.

One whose very presence reminded everyone why kingdoms had thrones.

He did not acknowledge the crowd—not yet.

Without sparing them so much as a glance, he strode down the length of the throne room with slow, measured steps. Every footfall echoed against the marble floor, each one carrying the effortless confidence of a man who had walked this path a thousand times before.

At last, he reached the foot of the throne.

He paused.

Then, with unhurried elegance, he turned to face the hall.

His gaze swept over the assembled nobles and commoners—not searching, not judging, merely reminding every soul present whose kingdom they stood in.

Only then did he lower himself onto the throne.

A man who had been standing beside the throne the whole time finally stepped forward. He adjusted his expensive suit and cleared his throat before facing the crowd.

“The castle welcomes you, citizens of Avalon. Your attendance is well received,” he spoke in a loud voice, making sure that all who were there could hear him. “The law of old shall be upheld. Show your respects to our king, the descendant of King Arthur himself...”

The man on the throne adjusted his position, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hand.

“...His Majesty, King Lucius Pendragon.”

In unison, lords and ladies, commoners and children bowed their heads, showing deep respect for their king.

The steward nodded, satisfied. He raised his voice yet again.

“In the presence of the kingdom, the King will now begin the case, with his council ready and willing to aid him.” He gestured to a high table with around nine noblemen and women seated with an air of pride.

The steward looked at the king as if asking for permission, and the king nodded. The steward bowed deeply, then turned to speak again.

“Bring out the boy, Alexander Perde.”

The whole courtroom fell quiet.

The doors opened once more, and footsteps marched in unison.

Two guards, clad in silver armour from head to toe, marched in unison, with a young boy walking shakily between them.

He had a mismatched shirt and shorts on. His hair was dishevelled, and spots of dried blood stained his clothes. His bloodshot eyes looked down at his hands, quietly gripping and twisting the ends of his shirt.

He reached the foot of the throne and paused before bowing to the king.

“Your Grace,” Alex said with practiced fluidity.

After the massacre, outsiders found him beside his family, and the matter was immediately brought before the king. Alex thought this was for the best. He was so shaken that he didn't know what else to do.

The trial officially began.

The court heard Alex's account of the matter through his sobs and tears, while the council of nobles wrote a few things down in their notes and the king listened to every word.

By the time Alex had finished giving his account, the boy was a mess. He had cried profusely and had even fallen to the floor a few times.

The crowd looked at him with pity. This little boy had just lost his whole world, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Now,” the king paused for a while, letting the crowd settle at his words. “The court will ask whether there are any witnesses who wish to come forward to shed light on this matter.”

For a brief moment, the whole place was still as everyone waited to see if anyone would come forward, necks turning left and right to see if even one person would step up.

Then, suddenly, a hand rose from the crowd.

“I-I would, Your Grace,” a young, shaky female voice cut through the crowd.

The multitude of people immediately split like the sea, united by curiosity.

A young lady with brown hair tied back with a handkerchief stepped forward, her fearful eyes darting rapidly between the throne and the ground.

“Approach the stand,” the king said.

The girl walked slowly to the stand and bowed as she passed the throne.

“You have some information that would prove helpful to the court?” A member of the council stood up from his seat, acting as the spokesperson for the whole table.

“I do,” she replied shakily.

“And do you swear before the Seven Gods to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”

“...I do.”

The spokesman looked at her, satisfied.

“Speak.”

“I am Ann Pot, one of the maids who worked for the Perdes.” She finally blurted it out. “I... I witnessed the murder, Your Grace. I hid in the pantry and saw the whole thing unfold before my very eyes.”

Alex's eyes widened.

“WHO?!” He lurched forward, but the guards held him in place.

“Let go of me!” he hissed at them. “WHO WAS IT?!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, startling the girl on the stand.

The king ignored his outburst and turned to the young woman.

“And who was it?”

She swallowed hard, then raised her head to look across the crowd.

Then, slowly, she raised her hand and swept it across the courtroom, gliding over the people before it finally stopped on one person.

The crowd held their breath in anticipation.

When it finally found its target, the crowd was beyond shocked.

“It was him, Your Grace,” she said with conviction. “He killed them all.”

“Huh?” Alex looked at her in disbelief that mirrored the crowd's. “Are you mad?”

No one in the court could believe it.

The finger...

...was pointing at Alex himself.

“Are you sure?” King Lucius asked the young woman, and she nodded.

“You saw the whole thing?”

Another nod.

“And you swear before the gods?”

“I do.”

The king sighed.

“Then it is decided.”

“With all due respect, Your Grace,” an elderly woman from the council said, raising her voice in protest. “This is but one witness. Should we really condemn the boy based on one person who could have easily been mistaken?”

“And what would you have her do, Lady Cromwell?” a middle-aged man from the council asked. “Perjure herself before the heavens?”

“I only ask that the royal court dig more deeply before laying accusations on the child—”

“Or do you know something else? Something the court doesn't?” The councilman leaned forward.

Lady Cromwell bit her tongue. She knew that there was nothing more she could do.

Then she sighed and sat down.

“May the gods be just.”

“As they are merciful,” the councilman replied before straightening his posture.

“One witness is more than enough. let us get this over with.” the king rubbed his temples.

“What sort of joke is this?!” Alex screamed, jolting everyone. he didn't know much, but he did know that this was wrong. why would they make their decision after just one hearing? wouldn't they investigate?

The crowd gasped.

It couldn't be.

No one would dare lie in the court of the king.

It couldn't be...

...but it was the truth.

Alex was the murderer.

“Killer!” someone shouted from the crowd.

Which in turn made others shout similar names.

Murderer.

Maniac.

Killer.

Monster.

Alex looked around at all the insults being hurled at him, his brows furrowed in anger.

“Shut up! Shut up, all of you! I didn't kill them! I didn't kill my family, you stupid pieces of sh*t!” he screamed.

The king raised a hand.

The whole room fell silent.

Except for Alex, who continued shouting and thrashing around as the guards held him firmly.

The king turned towards his council, and they all nodded in unison.

“Alex Perde,” his voice carried effortlessly across the whole court. “In light of this new evidence, the Court of Avalon has found you guilty.”

“WHAT?!” Alex tried to lunge forward, but the guards' grips were too strong, holding him in place. “What is this madness? Why would I kill my own family?”

The king ignored his ranting and continued.

“You will be imprisoned and flogged before the court determines a befitting punishment for your crimes.”

The crowd murmured, with a few of them nodding in agreement.

Alex looked from them back to the king.

What was happening?

The king signalled for the guards to take him away.

Alex thrashed around, demanding they let him go, but they paid him no heed.

His eyes landed on the young girl who still stood at the witness stand.

“YOU!” he barked. “LIAR! BLOODY LIAR! I'LL KILL YOU! LIAR!”

She looked away, fighting back the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“I'LL F*CKING KILL YOU!!!”

The great doors closed behind them as the guards took him away.

And with them...

...the fate of Alex Perde.