The white of their armor, its intricate gold detailing, and the brilliantly polished steel of their weapons flashed and shone until it almost felt as if a host of angels had descended from heaven to judge them all.
Gods. A proud look of achievement crossed Alanna’s face, and Val wanted to laugh with the joy of it. She was utterly glorious.
The soldiers around them started to shift nervously as the Nephilim Clibanarii surrounded them. Slowly they lowered their weapons, allowing the squad to step in close to one another. Rafe immediately bent over Reece and checked his pulse, soothing the broken man as best he could.
Alanna stood up tall and spoke to the crowd as much as to Ballanor. “May I introduce Ramiel. He has kindly offered to preside over an emergency hearing today.”
Whispers of shock rippled over the gathered palace soldiers as a tall, fiery-haired Nephilim in a fluttering gold surcoat stepped forward to tower over Ballanor and Dornar. His voice was deep and resonant as he called out, “I am Ramiel.” His gaze raked over the Hawks. “Who stands accused?”
“No, no.” Ballanor pushed forward and settled his hands over his hips, looking petulant and childish beside the towering power of the Nephilim. “This is quite unnecessary! I am entirely capable of judging these criminals myself.”
A deep stillness, like the charged hush before a storm, settled over the area. Even the birds fell silent as Ramiel’s voice rumbled. “Not true.”
“What!” Ballanor spluttered, gobs of spittle flecking the corners of his mouth. “Who are you to contradict me? I’m your king!”
Ramiel drew himself up at the very moment that the clouds broke and a dazzling shaft of light spilled over the Clibanarii, highlighting them in shining radiance. “And I am the Supreme Justice of the Truth. I think you’ll find, Your Majesty, that by ancient agreement between the crown and church, I have the authority here.”
Ramiel turned from Ballanor, dismissing him.
Behind him, Ballanor’s face went a deep mottled red that made Val want to crow with glee, although when Ramiel turned his purple eyes his way, his amusement dwindled instantly, leaving him feeling like a small boy in the headmaster’s office.
“Captain Lanval,” Ramiel boomed.
Val stood slowly and pulled his wings back as he stepped forward, conscious that he stank of sick and acrid sweat and probably looked even worse than he smelled.
He dipped his head respectfully and then widened his legs into a warrior’s stance, hands clasped loosely behind his back. “Yes, sir.”
“Have you ever conspired against your king or kingdom?”
That was a difficult question to answer. He paused briefly, considering it. Years of friendship with Jeremiel had taught him that it was important to use the right words. If he simply denied conspiracy after kidnapping and fleeing with the queen, Ramiel would call him a liar and it would all be over.
“On my life, I swear that other than when I defied the king to rescue Queen Alanna from an unjust execution, I have never conspired against my king or kingdom.”
Ramiel nodded, his face stern as he looked back toward the king. “Truth.”
One by one he asked each of the Hawks the same question, and every time they answered, he confirmed that they spoke the truth.
After the last squad member had spoken, Ramiel addressed the crowd. “By the authority of the archangels, I have questioned these men and women and I find them honest. No crime has been committed. Set them free.”
“No. I forbid it!” Ballanor’s face was flushed and angry, his gaze so riveted on Alanna that he didn’t even notice as his advisors discreetly stepped away.
“You forbid it?” Ramiel asked with raised eyebrows. “You would seek to deny the authority of the Nephilim Assizes, knowing the repercussions that denial would have throughout the kingdom?”
“Yes, I deny your authority!” Ballanor folded his arms and glared. “I’m the king, and I have already decided to execute these people.”
“Hmm.” Ramiel nodded, watching the king from hooded eyes. “In the end, that is your prerogative”—Alanna gasped and turned a look of horrified betrayal on Ramiel, who didn’t even blink as he continued—“but if you do, then you would reap irreparable damage on the authority of the assizes. How can we work if the king himself refuses our judgments? Surely you can see that your behavior is the example for the entire kingdom?”
“I don’t care. I’m the king, and I choose what happens to my subjects.”
Ramiel’s voice dropped to deadly quiet. “You don’t care that your people would no longer accept the authority of the courts?”
Ballanor shrugged.
Ramiel glanced at Alanna as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. “I cannot allow my people to suddenly find themselves in a kingdom that has no rule of law. If you do not recognize us, then we cannot be expected to recognize you. I will have no other option but to raise the Nephilim. In every city and every town, down to the smallest village, throughout the kingdom, we will withdraw our services. Our healers will refuse to provide care and our assizes will refuse to judge or administer justice, our musicians will put away their instruments and our gardeners will walk away from the fields, and the whole world will know that we refuse you, just as you refuse us.”
There was an audible gasp as the king’s retinue considered the full impact of a battle for supremacy against the Nephilim.
Only Dornar had the guts to step forward and whisper, “Your Majesty, what do you care for these low soldiers? Let the Nephilim have the Hawks. They’re nothing to you.”
