Page 49 of The Wrath of Ashes
He reached for the bag and opened it, fingers poring through the beaded shot, the bored bits of silver he’d purposefully put on the end of his scourge to leave the most damage on Asha’s flesh. Only silver or gold would have hurt him so. Vierbaltknew. No ordinary flail bore silver beads unless they were to strike against a magical being.
Vierbalt paled.
“Asha saved them. Every time you broke a scourge on him. Every time the beads spilled, he collected them. He told himself he’d save them up and use the money to leave this land.” Rath rolled his shoulders.
“I—this is far—I did not beat him this much. Silver was an unfortunate and unintentional choice, I assure you.” Vierbalt stumbled back, still twisting the paper in his hands.
King Reigh tensed his jaw. “So you do not deny scourging a Ramolian prince’s firstborn, an Ashen mate to a dragon king? You do not refute the other charges?”
Vierbalt’s face twisted in anxiousness, agony plain in his features. “Would it matter if I refuted? You’ve already determined I am guilty based on the word of this traitorous lizard.”
Servants gathered from the estate, peering from windows, whispering behind the corners of buildings and an errant carriage.
“Members of House Tippen!” Rath shouted loudly, so all gathered and incoming could hear. “How many of you know my mate? How many of you witnessed Vierbalt’s violence against him?”
Whispers milled around as Vierbalt turned in place, sweaty hand clutched to the unforgiving parchment. Wary eyes glanced from Rath to Vierbalt. Agreement hooded their reticent gazes. Not one stepped forward to defend him. None stepped forward to rebuke him, either.
“Would anyone like to refute his claims?” King Reigh glared around as one of his simpering sons strode forward, hands folded behind his back with an expression of mock pity.
“I’m sorely afraid Father did terrible things. He has no excuse for them. I fear his mind is not as it used to be. Perhaps his age or—”
“I’m not senile. Bel!” Vierbalt shoved at the portly male and glared at him. Vierbalt himself was a painfully thin male, a feature both of his sons didn’t seem to inherit. A lifetime of hedonism showed on their oily faces.
“Senile, syphilitic, mad, it’s pointless. You scourged poor Asha at least once a fortnight since I was a little lad,” Bel said, snatching for the parchment as he held his father back, reading the accusations.
Vierbalt fought back for the paper. “You plan on putting me down and slapping one of my sons into power?”
“Obviously, Father. Whitestone will be valuable again and you’ve flown too close to the sun and too far away from the law.” Bel straightened the paper and turned in time to see the last of the accusations, and frowned. “Since when was shaggin’ Lyss a crime?”
Silence spread among the servants and rustling nobles.
Leza, a slender but sicklier version of Vierbalt, snorted. “She’s a servant. Our whims are their orders. A servant is to want us served, and how we demand to be served is entirely ours to decide.”
“You not only assaulted this young woman…but you threesharedher.” King Reigh’s crier balked out of turn, but nobody corrected him. Gathering women and those at the sills of windows bore glaring expressions. No woman in the castle had avoided their philandering.
“Not at the same time, of course. That’s a disgusting assumption,” Bel said.
Leza sneered at Bel and shrugged. “I hardly ever looked Lyss’s way. I favor the milkmaids a bit more.”
Said milkmaids weren’t present, but a few women around twisted their faces in disgust.
“Come now, don’t we all take liberties with our servants?” Vierbalt turned to a noble from the town over, his barony, the Lyskin flats, a thriving purveyor of certain seasonable vegetables and clays.
“Not unwilling ones, at any rate.” A mutter of disgust passed Baron Lyskin’s lips.
Muttered agreement passed as Rath readied himself to pass his desired judgment.
“In light of this information, Vierbalt, I am afraid you are far beyond the morals and values that we hold in the name of Baltheir in my kingdom.” King Reigh sighed heavily.
“Naturally, I assume I should take his seat—” Leza stepped forward.
“Your bloodline ends here. Would any stand and speak up for them? Would any servant vouch for Bel or Leza Tippen?” King Reigh held his chin high.
None did.
“And before your peers. Do you concur with their elimination from the House Tippen?” King Reigh shook his head.
The jostle of chain mail and clink of armor heralded a unanimous rise of hands. The king waved toward his crier and Rath.
