The Taellian council room was one of – if not the – largest room that Sam had ever been in. He felt like he was stuck in the middle of an arena, with the one-hundred and one councilmen watching dubiously as his audience. In front of Sam, where he stood at a small pedestal on the ground, was a dome shaped terrace where all the councilmen were seated.
All of them were old with neat greying hair and long white robes. Sam thought back to Torren, half expecting the likely retired commander James Regan among their ranks. He hoped he could trust him among all the others, because he knew that they’d be hard to convince, however James was nowhere to be seen.
Sam hadn’t slept since the first night after learning Garn’s new identity, and how could he. After arriving at the city gates, and leaving Ashley in the care of his officers, Sam rushed immediately to seek audience with the Council.
The head councilman, an old man with thick curled moustache, and a right eye that had been forced shut by some grievous wound a long time ago, banged his gavel onto the table.
“You, Twentieth Commander Samuel Ford of the Taellian Army, have sought an audience with the Taellian Council, concerning the actions of one Garn A. Pallerii, who happens to be a trusted patriot among our kin. What say you?”
Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn’t easy requesting anything from the council.
“I request your assistance with the Garn Pallerii case. I fear it is much worse…”
“Assistance?” jested another one of the council members, a fat balding man who was missing one of his ears. “From what we were told, you had Mr Pallerii in you grasp, and after needlessly torturing him in that hellhole of a desert, he managed to escape because you let the djann get too close.”
“With all due respect, sir, we were permitted to use force on Mr Pallerii if it came to that.”
“And did it?” another asked venomously.
“Please, you’re missing the point. Garn is dangerous. He’s not who he appears to be. I saw him…”
“Were you aware that Mr Pallerii approached us, Commander Ford?”
At that moment Sam felt the icy sting of shock flow through his veins.
“He… approached you?”
How is this possible? I followed him all the way from Torren. There’s no way he could have made it to Taelliwey. Unless… that man, yes, the one in the dark cloak.
“That’s right,” the councilman continued. “On the seventh of June Garn Pallerii spoke to us of matters concerning his capture and immediate torture.”
“Please,” Sam tried, “you don’t understand.”
“Understand what, Commander? That Mr Pallerii has agreed to forgive you for your heinous acts. You see, it was all merely a misunderstanding to do with the secrecy of Mr Pallerii’s…”
Dammit, how could they be so blind! Are they all fools? What has Garn done to them? Is this his power?
“Garn possesses magic!” Sam shouted out – interrupting the speaking councilman.
“I beg your pardon,” another councilman said.
“After Garn used the djann attack to escape the desert, I followed him all the way to the Northern Peaks where I witnessed him use dark powers to attack some of the local villagers.”
“Stop right there!” said the second speaking councilman, the one that was missing an ear. “First you accuse Mr Pallerii of illegally selling arms to criminal buyers, and now you are claiming that he is capable of controlling dark magic.”
Sam felt like a child being teased, however he refused to show any anger.
“Arms dealing is certainly an understandable accusation, but magic? You surely can’t be serious.”
Sam could feel the anger boiling up inside, but he composed himself as best he could.
“What I tell you is the truth!” he argued against them.
Another councilman, this one with a monocle, spoke out. “If what you say is true then prove it. Make us believe your bewildering accusations.”
I can’t, Sam realised, only the weapons that were sold to the djann could be used, and there’s no way of showing that they came from Garn.
“Give me time,” he demanded. “Give me time and I will show the truth about that man.”
“We handed you the time and resources to make a case against Mr Pallerii and you came up empty handed. Quite frankly we are tired of this little game. Garn Pallerii is a patriot of our city and you have bothered him quite enough. I hereby forbid you of investigating any further. Should you attempt to do so any further and you will be stripped of your rank as the twentieth commander of the Taellian army. Do I make myself clear?”
Sam’s hands curled into tight fists and he remained quiet, frozen.
“He asked you a question, Commander Ford.”
Sam recognised that voice – that sturdy, commanding voice. Sam turned around to where he heard the words fly, and sitting among the dry old men was Commander Regan. Sam was then filled with a feint shimmer of hope.
“James, you must agree with me! Tell them! Tell them about Garn!”
“It is the will of the council that you forsake your investigation.” James Regan’s face was blank and emotionless, and then was moulded into a hard, assuring look. “As a member and as a friend, as well as a fellow commander, I bid that you comply.”
It was at that moment that the feint shimmer of hope inside Sam was set afire like a bale of hay, and was soon gone.
“Well?” the head councilman prompted.
Sam wasn’t quite sure what he was thinking of doing next, but he knew that it wasn’t anything good.
“Very well,” he said, “I will honour the will of the council. As of this moment I will no longer pursue Garn Pallerii as a suspect of my investigation.”
Sam left the council building knowing that he was the only one out there who could stop Garn, and he would stop Garn. He swore a vow to himself as soon as he uttered the words ‘I will no longer pursue Garn.’
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