around at the others suspiciously.
The smile twitched again.
“Some of them may be your friends. And some of them may even be within your own family. In these dreadful times, we must protect the security of our kingdom at all costs. I have learned that the traitorous McCloud clan wishes to rip that security away from you!”
He grabbed at the air and tore it away, giving the uneducated villagers a visual they would understand. Immediately, some in the crowd gasped.
The twitch.
“I declare to you as your king,” Nielius yelled, eyes beginning to burn, “I will hunt down these wretched McClouds and extinguish their plot against us!”
The king walked slowly to the edge of the balcony. Rage began to filter his vision as he looked out upon the petrified gathering. It was a perfect sight. Everyone was terrified into silence; it seemed they would give up their own child to the Decree if it would save the kingdom from traitors. Now there was no way the Legendary King could return, especially after what he had in store this day.
“Today will mark the beginning of the purification of Hyrendell! We have caught one of the McCloud conspirators, and they will pay for their sins against us.”
King Nielius caught his breath, and eased his panting chest. The thrill of absolute power snaked through his veins, throbbed in his temples. And behind the king, smiling easily at the terrified crowd, Lotharius simply watched the domination roll out.
“Bring forth the traitor!”
A drum roll cadence immediately burst from atop the parapet walls, filling the inner bailey with a progressive rhythm. All of the villagers packed inside the courtyard shuffled round to face the rotting stage, with its monstrous statue, as the huge oak doors of the Main Hall began to creak open. Darkness split from between the doors as they swung back to crash against the hall walls with a metallic thud, leaving a black void to silently scream at the gathering like a horrid mouth. It seemed to suck the hope from Hyrendell Castle itself.
The villagers trembled as they held each other, staring into the abyss, waiting for the prisoner within. Father Stephanus prayed, deep inside his mind, spouting off verses of scripture as fast as they would come to him, as he trained his eyes on the gaping hole. And King Nielius waited patiently up on the balcony as his empty eyes flickered over the deadly machine, groping its beautiful corroding parts.
The entire courtyard held its breath when it first heard the scrape of tiny metal objects against stone. The piercing shriek from deep inside the abyss echoed around the parapet walls, its slow rhythmic pattern accentuating the cadence perfectly.
The form of a giant man oozed from the void, pale grey against the darkness. As he approached the entrance to the Hall, more of his bulbous features became illuminated by the overcast light. A big, hairy belly that bounced with the man’s sluggish steps was set between a gruesome mask and skin-tight trousers cut from rugged black leather. In his massive hand was the end of a rusted chain, like a tiny leash streaming into the void behind. As the chain swung, it scraped against the Earthstone floor of the Hall, releasing the chilling metallic screech into the courtyard.
When the ogre of a man reached the grotesque Machine, he reeled in the chain, giving it a final tug to pull the prisoner into the filtered light.
“No!” Father Stephanus gasped. “It can’t be —”
The rusty chain leash curved up past silvery hair, curled around petite wrists, and twisted around a frail neck. Tiny blue eyes streamed sorrowful tears down sad, wrinkled features as the prisoner looked up into the impossibly crowded courtyard.
The terrified villagers cringed at the sight of the tiny old woman standing near the giant machine. Her diminutive size was easily recognizable against the contrasting height of the rotting contraption.
“Hildabrand, no!” yelled someone from inside the crowd.
Father Stephanus waited no longer. He turned toward the balcony at once. “King Nielius, I’m here at the request of our God. Please, your majesty, stop this madness!”
“Ah, Father, you made it!” the king said as he peered over the railing. “And I thought you didn’t have the stomach for diplomacy.”
“This is no diplomacy, king, you know that.”
“I know of traitors against me!” the king roared, boring his eyes into the gentle features of Father Stephanus. However, the Priest remained stable.
“I implore you, King Nielius, to see how this woman is innocent. Our God says to forgive those who trespass against us, not to punish them. Certainly, you can see the wisdom in that.”
Hearing the king yell at someone in the crowd caught the attention of the gathering, and soon all of the villagers were listening intently as Father Stephanus pleaded to the ruler of Hyrendell. Though the conversation was distorted slightly when it reached the people at the rear of the crowd, it nonetheless began to revitalize the dying hope of the entire assembly.
“Executioner,” King Nielius roared, “place the traitor into the Machine!” At once, the bulbous man obeyed.
Father Stephanus continued quickly, “this woman has done nothing wrong, your highness! Tell her of what charges she is to be killed for!”
“You want to know her charges, Father,” Nielius growled, “DO YOU ALL WANT TO KNOW HER CHARGES?!”
He didn’t wait for an answer. “She is charged for being a McCloud, a certified traitor of the crown. She is charged with conspiracy against the kingdom!”
“This woman is innocent!” Stephanus yelled back.
“NO ONE IS INNOCENT!” King Nielius thundered to the crowd below him, his temples raging with fury.
“Your God is giving you a chance to show the people of your kingdom how merciful you can be. Prove it to them!”
Nielius curved his dark, burning eyes to pierce through the glow of Father Stephanus’ chocolate irises, but to no avail; the Priest’s faith was stronger than it seemed.
“My God has already given me the world,” Nielius happily fumed.
And just then, from behind the king, and in front of him, from deep inside the castle and high up in the sky, the silky demonic voice he craved and feared spewed forth into his mind. It splintered the inside of his skull as it drug an ethereal claw down his spine, commanding a shiver to prickle his skin.
“ThE KinGdoM tRuLy iS YoUrs. Do wHaT yOU WilL. I wIll Be AlWayS HeRe FoR YOu.”
Both warmth and cold fear washed over the king like a boiling sea. He closed his eyes to cringe against the security of emotion, and revel in the emptiness of dread. Peace was to be found there, in the depths of that voice. It cradled him like child, protected him from himself.
When King Nielius opened his eyes, he was staring at the decaying Machine set upon the oaken stage. Its bloody steel reinforcements glimmered in the dull light. And strapped inside its rotting wooden beams lay the first of his captures, the first of his hunt.
His smile twitched again.
“Executioner, are you ready?!” Nielius boomed. The crowd glanced toward
