Chapter Fourteen

"The Trial"

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I read through Walter log entries several times over. They were a jumbled mess of thoughts, but several words stood out: 

"Inquisitor"

"Witch"

"White-haired"

"Snake-eyes"

"Pale"

It was clear. Walter must have accused Ulrich of being a witch. The Inquisitor would be searching for him at this very moment. There was no time to lose. I had to get to him first. 

I rushed down to the first floor, asked the innkeeper for directions to the Acorn, the tavern that we had agreed to meet at. He pointed me towards the south end of the town.

The town residents filled the streets, but I shoved my way past them, ignoring the angry expletives shouted in my direction. It didn't matter if I was drawing attention to myself. Ulrich was the first ally I'd made so far. I couldn't let the Inquisitor reach him.

I arrived at the Acorn, hunched over and out of breath.

Seems quiet. I don't think the Inquisitor has checked here yet.

I entered the tavern and scanned the room. The place was mostly empty, save for a few regulars at the bar, getting a head start on their drinking. I saw Ulrich sitting in the corner, alone with a pint of untouched beer before him, jotting notes down in a notepad.

He saw me coming his way and started to rise. But then we heard the creaking door of the entrance, and in walked Inquisitor Stowton.

I turned to Ulrich, flashing a warning expression. "They're after you," I whispered. "You have to run."

I tilted my head towards the back door. Ulrich instantly understood, then silently moved towards it.

I grabbed Ulrich's pint of beer, swashed it around my mouth, thankful in the moment that I couldn't taste anything, then stumbled towards Stowton, doing my best drunk impersonation.

"Hey, ain’t you one’a them ‘nquisitor fellas?" I slurred, breathing my boozy breath in his face. "Why ain’t ya doin’ a bet’r job, huh?"

Disgusted, Stowton pulled away. But then I saw his eyes dart towards the back of the inn, then widen as he saw Ulrich. 

"Hey, stop!" he yelled.

Ulrich glanced back, halfway out the door, then escaped into the alley. Stowton pushed past me in chase.

I quickly left the tavern to see if Ulrich had escaped. Neither he nor the inquisitor seemed to be anywhere in sight.

Did he make it out?

But then I heard a commotion from a street a block over. I ran towards it and saw that a crowd was being pushed aside as Ulrich tried to barrel his way through. 

I heard Stowton's voice shouting over the crowd, "Stop that man! He's a WITCH!"

At that word, chaos ensued. The crowd panicked. People started to run. Mothers scooped up their children and ran. 

Amidst the fray, a farmer filled with a sudden rush of courage threw himself at Ulrich, throwing him to the ground. Ulrich stumbled back to his feet, dizzy, only to find the bravery of one was infectious.  Several other residents rushed to stop him. There were too many. He was pinned down by at least five men and surrounded by a dozen more.

Stowton called for shackles to be brought out and the High Inquisitor summoned. I could only watch, powerless. 

I expected them to bring him to the town's jail for a trial. But when Hawkthorne arrived, he had a different plan. He spoke with Stowton and the town officials in hushed tones, then they came to an agreement.

Stowton yanked Ulrich by the chains of his shackles and forced him towards the execution block. 

I watched in disbelief. They couldn't be...

"Wait... Where are you taking me?" Ulrich asked, flustered. Stowton didn't answer him. 

Ulrich resisted, trying to pull away, but Stowton struck him in the head with the butt of his sword. Ulrich fell to his knees, disoriented. Stowton grabbed Ulrich by his arm and forced him up to his feet. They made their way up the steps of the execution block.

The residents started to realize what was happening. They muttered to each, confused and excited.

"A trial? Now?"

People ran off to gather their friends and family. The crowd grew larger and filled with frenzy. They pressed closer to the podium, where Ulrich was presented to them.

I clenched my teeth, furious. The Inquisitor isn't even going to question him first? He has to know how the public is going to vote. 

This wasn't a trial. This was just a formality for an execution.

Ulrich's eyes were wide with fear. They darted back and forth, searching for an ally. His gaze eventually fell upon me. 

Our eyes lingered, unsure of what to do. Then, with only a subtle shake of the head, Ulrich made it clear—"Don't do anything."

I then saw his eyes flicker over to someone else in the crowd. He did the same gesture. 

Who's he communicating with?

I tried to track his eye line, but the crowd was too big. 

Inquisitor Hawkthorne stepped onto the block and stood beside Ulrich. He held out his hand to settle the crowd down. 

"Ladies and gentlemen of Honeywell, we gather here today to examine the actions of one Ulrich Licht, whose deeds have cast a shadow upon our innocent town. The accused is charged with engaging in forbidden arts, consorting with servants of the devil, and conjuring malignant forces to torment our town.

"Mr. Licht, do you have anything to say to these charges?"

Ulrich spoke slowly and deliberately, "And what evidence do you have against me?"

"A confirmed witch has named you co-conspirator."

Members of the crowd gasped. Others shouted profanities at him, calling for death. The Inquisitor raised a hand to signal for silence.

"I want to see my accuser. Bring him out." Ulrich said.

The inquisitors exchanged glances. Stowton shook his head.

Hawkthorne replied, "The witch is currently in a safe and secure location, where his demonic powers cannot bring harm to the town. I will not risk the lives of these innocent residents, just to appease your whims."

The crowd shouted in approval.

"Then how can I prove my innocence?" Ulrich asked, growing angry.

The Inquisitor responded, speaking to both Ulrich and the residents, "The eyes and hearts of the innocent can see the truth. We shall put this to a vote. If you are not guilty, then you have nothing to fear."

Ulrich shook with rage, his chains clattering against the wooden podium. 

"That's bullshit..." he muttered.

"Pardon me?" the Inquisitor said.

"I said, that's BULLSHIT!" Ulrich shouted at the top of his lungs so the entire crowd could hear him. "All of this, this trial, this vote, it's fucking bullshit." He glared at the High Inquisitor with venom in his eyes.

"I'm talking to you... You're the goddamn witch, aren't you? You're the demon lord in charge of this Circle. Admit it!"

Hawkthorne glared at Ulrich, his eyes wild with anger. "Enough of this! I've heard enough!"

Ulrich's tirade was interrupted by the swift reaction of Stowton, who leaped onto the podium and gagged him with a piece of rope. 

A restlessness spread through the crowd. 

"Demon lord?"

"Circle?"

Hawkthorne seemed to sense things were heading south as he quickly called for a vote, "All those in favor of guilty, raise your hands."

More than half of the crowd raised their hands.

"And not guilty?

Ulrich and my eyes met once more. I half-expected him to give me another shake of the head, "Don't do it." But this time was different. This time his eyes were pleading, "Save me."

I remembered what Elara said, "The soul gets ripped apart, and all that's left is the soul's memories, their raw, unbridled emotions. They become a shade, forced to remain in the Circle they fell in."

Then I remembered the man with the gold ring, dead the very next night.

As Ulrich's eyes begged me to help him, all I could was look away. I kept quiet, just like the rest of the crowd. 

Not a single hand was raised in Ulrich's favor.

Hawkthorne let loose a grin. He nodded to the executioner, who wrapped the noose around Ulrich's neck. 

"Any last words, Mr. Licht?" Hawkthorne asked. Stowton removed the gag from Ulrich's mouth so he could speak.

Ulrich gazed out at the crowd. There was an eery silence in the square as everyone listened closely for this supposed witch's final words. 

After a long pause, Ulrich finally said, "So this is it, huh? I really thought I would make it to the end... We should have trusted each oth—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the trapdoor opened beneath his feet. Ulrich's body dropped down and a loud crack echoed through the square. His legs twitched, his muscles not yet aware of their impending doom.

After a few seconds, Ulrich's body gave its final twitch and he hung there, still and solemn.

I gazed out at the sea of faces, wondering what I would find. Moments earlier they had been filled with conviction, confident that this man was the source of all their fears. But now, they could only wonder—what if they were wrong?

I thought about Ulrich's last words.

"We should have trusted each other..." What did that mean? Was it to tell the residents to stop with the needless hangings? 

Or was it a message for me?