"You should have shot me on the spot, that would have been a better outcome," I answered from the cage to the soldiers who had taken me prisoner and brought me to Camelot.
They didn't answer me, and the inquisitor had already set up sensors and hit me with a shock spear. After I was paralyzed, a squad of black races began to illuminate the cage. Their actions had absolutely no effect. Compared to the inquisitor who captured me, they seemed like clowns reading some meaningless texts.
However, they also put a steel mask on me, shackled my hands and feet, attached a shock generator and assigned the most fanatical zealots of the faith, giving them orders to kill me at any suspicious activity. They understood all the risks and still brought me to the capital for a show trial. A grand victory and a captured mage will be proof of the strength of the troops. This will restore faith in a possible victory.
I really preferred to be killed in the trench. After all, the fact of my survival could only bring even greater troubles. It happened on Draekernor, and it will happen again here. If Tzeentch wants, he will take my body again and slaughter all of Camelot. Or he will subject the Knights to corruption, look, that traitor fell to the power of chaos, and therefore the fall of others is quite possible, especially if the Great Manipulator himself takes up the matter.
— SHAME!!!
- TRAITOR!!!
— SCUM!!!
I was carried in a cage along the street and all the people could say everything they thought, and also admire the strength of the soldiers who took the sorcerer alive. All the people's love instantly changed to fierce hatred. It is understandable, sorcerers were the main enemy of their world, what else could one expect from ordinary people? That they would be imbued? Would decide that maybe not everything is so clear-cut and there are sorcerers who want the best for humanity? Would they forgive and understand, allowing me to fight and die for them? Pff-ff-ff, no, this world and these people were not capable of this. Their doctrines and ideology were too radical.
That's why I had no doubt that they were taking me to a show trial, another demonstration of the power of Camelot's authorities. Even Gareth wanted to accompany me, just in case, but he was given the order to seize the fortress and finish off the remnants of the rebels, and then begin building the Star defensive system.
Soon I was carried up the stairs to the main palace of Camelot. The halls here were even higher than one could imagine and right here was the repair shop of the Knights. Formidable machines surrounded by power plants and thousands of engineers greeted each guest. It was also here that new pilots took their oaths and the place itself was so sacred that balls were never held here. Only the council of the Knights gathered here around the round table and then only in the darkest days.
The rest of the time the center of the palace was empty, because even Galahad, who could have worked here, preferred the eastern tower. Although they say he came here at night to sit alone at the round table and in silence turn to the wisdom of heroes from long-gone eras.
My cage was placed in the middle of the part of the palace where the knights were. All the pilots gathered there and looked at me. In addition, the nobles were invited here, for whom temporary stands were built at the feet of the Knights. Even some commoners were allowed in, mostly the wealthy, but also some especially worthy ones, those who lived by serving the noble and set their children on this path.
This created another precedent for even greater unity between the different classes, even if only for the duration of the war. However, soon there will be even greater exploitation of workers, who will have to die right at their workplaces to provide the army with everything it needs. Everyone will make a sacrifice for the sake of victory.
The giant doors that led to the round table were locked, and Galahad and the other judges sat on a marble platform right in front of these doors, which could let in even the most enormous Knight. They sat silently and looked at me with disapproval, I felt it, although I could not move my head because of the mask.
And then the trial began, shameless and vile. Everyone who knew me was invited and every sin of mine, even the smallest, was voiced. I had no defense, and every word cut the soul like a poisoned blade, causing pain to Mordred. And I also shared this pain, because we had much more in common than it seemed at first glance.
However, when the soldiers took Boris away in a wheelchair... it was me who began to feel pain, and the pain of my soul was already shared by Mordred's soul.
"It was he who carried out that terrorist attack," Boris said, and the loudspeakers carried his words throughout the entire hall, as well as beyond the palace, where the citizens lined up outside the palace were listening to the court hearing. "He planned it, hired the killers."
"That's a serious charge," Galahad said, grimacing, interrupting the witness. "Why would Mordred kill himself?"
— To become a martyr and strengthen his position even more. I tried to dissuade him, because accidental victims were inevitable. However, madness must have already taken hold of his mind. He was ready to risk his own life. Because of himself, he lost his arm, because of him, innocent people died, and I lost my legs!
Boris was telling the truth, and I couldn't even respond, because my jaws were tightly bound by the mask. Yes, people died because of me, but how many did it save? Thanks to me, society was instantly mobilized and consolidated around the legitimate authorities. If it weren't for my actions, which were only possible because of this, then the Knight-Traitor could have done much more harm. And the small council of the nobility could have betrayed Camelot.
I did what I had to do and didn't regret anything. And I didn't blame Boris, he has a family, a new life, he shouldn't have gone down like me. It's right, it's logical, it's natural. Even though it hurts to tears.
"We didn't even notice how we warmed the snake," said Lancelot, sitting next to Galahad. "Despicable Mordred, how wrong we were."
"Quiet, the witness hasn't finished speaking yet," Galahad growled at him, clearly in a bad mood.
It even began to seem to me that it wasn't he who decided to hold a show trial. After all, Galahad was known for his impartiality, but what could he do when other nobles dug up all the details and made a show out of the trial? Although maybe he, too, was involved in this farce. After all, there, on the day of my rebirth, he actually killed his relative. Of course, there was a reason to kill, but... to spill blood of one's own kind? This behavior is unworthy of a knight.
"He's a scoundrel and a coward. He was always interested in his own personal gain and..." Boris continued speaking, looking at the floor, in a quieter voice, as if repeating what he had been ordered to say.
"Enough, we've already understood. Call the next witness, if that's all," Galahad said, and his mood worsened even more: he certainly didn't like the deliberate and groundless humiliation, nor the fact that Boris was defaming the one to whom he swore allegiance.
"The prosecution calls upon the commoner Kara, the servant of the accused," said the herald, and at that moment my heart ached even more, because Mordred knew what would be said next and could do nothing.
Kara came up to the counter and froze, silently looking at me.
- Why are you silent? - Galahad asked, noticing the hesitation. - You were with him longer than any mortal, shouldn't you know who he really was? Or do you have nothing to add to what has already been said? Perhaps you were threatened?
"I have nothing to threaten with, because I have nothing valuable that you could take," Kara said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
- We? Explain! - Bors, sitting next to Lancelot, was indignant.
"Shut your mouth and don't interfere. The trial is in session," Bedivere growled, watching everything that was happening without much interest: but the knights sitting next to him clearly irritated him, mainly with their, frankly, show-offs.
- SILENCE!!! - Galahad called for order again, and then, without shouting and even with some kindness, added: - Speak, respected Kara. The trial is needed to find out the truth.
"And I will tell you, Master Galahad," Kara said, turning away from me and turning to the tribune with the judges, and looked defiantly straight at Galahad. "You are all guilty of what happened! And you, Galahad, are more guilty than anyone else, and even Mordred himself!"
"HOW DARE YOU, YOU SCUM?" Lancelot immediately jumped to his feet, taken aback by such an insult.
At that very moment, the soldiers rushed up, intending to pass sentence on the commoner who had insulted not just a specific nobleman, but the entire high nobility and Galahad himself. For such a spit, at best, the tongue should have been cut out, and at worst, the entire family of the culprit should have been subjected to collective punishment.
But at that very moment the soldiers stopped, noticing a barely perceptible gesture from Galahad. Lancelot also suddenly realized that with his shout he had once again interfered with the court's business and showed disrespect to the entire court, that is, to Galahad. Bedivere's gaze became so hard that Lancelot quickly sat back down and fell silent. Then he jerked sharply and grimaced in anger when Percival made a sarcastic remark about him, but no one except the judges heard how exactly.
- You left your nephews to rot after the death of their best friend! Because of your hatred, they lived in constant guilt for not being able to become as great as your brother! And what did you do when your nephews, his parents, were gone? He came to you for help, and you... you drove him away, calling him unworthy! Even before you took his name, you took away his hope! And now sit and look down on him! Noble knights of Camelot, you are worse than any sorcerer, because your honor is not enough to even look into the eyes of the accused! You brought him to his knees and staged this show that this entire barnyard wanted so much, forgetting that Mordred was the only nobleman who cared about the fate of a commoner!
Kara got really mad and the longer she spoke, the more inconsolable Mordred became. The faces of everyone present grew darker. Even if Kara got out of here alive, she would pay for every word later. Nobles were always famous for their pride and vindictiveness, even if Galahad forbade it, her body would still be found in a day or two, maybe even an hour later, in a ditch with her throat cut.
But she kept talking, telling about everything she had seen and had no intention of stopping. And only after a long hour of non-stop speech did she stop. She also remembered all the good that I had done and how, despite everything that had happened, I had found the strength to kill my own anger and hatred of the world. She called everyone who had spoken before that scoundrels who had sold out their own ideals.
"Now I should listen to Mordred's whore... pff..." was all Lancelot said, realizing that he had miscalculated and Kara should not have been invited here at all, but it would have been better to kill her right away. "The sorcerer subdued her mind with the help of dark magic. Everything is obvious."
Of course, Kara couldn't stop what was already predetermined. She only killed herself, but it was her choice. Dying with a clear conscience was much better for her than living side by side with such scum.
"You did everything to make him the monster you consider him to be. And now you will kill him for something he is not guilty of," Kara finished quietly, giving her last moral strength to this speech.
"It's funny, isn't it?" a voice in my head said, and it wasn't the bird's. "How human, how human."
"Yes, finding the strength to go against the whole world for the sake of the one you love is very human," the bird agreed.
"That's not what I mean, but whatever," Tzeentch replied indifferently, after which my shackles began to frost over. "They're all going to die anyway. So you won't have to take revenge on them. Although if you want to…"
"What? Why?" I immediately exclaimed mentally, which caused surprise to intensify the mental influence.
- Because everything is just beginning. And they can't be saved. Or did you not understand how it happened that in the most fortified place, in the capital of the knightly world Alba, such a powerful rift suddenly appeared? Ha-ha-ha!
"No… no-no-no, wait!" I cried out as they began to shock me, but the frost still spread further and further.
"It seems the truth has hurt this scoundrel too much!" Lancelot immediately exclaimed. "Look how this monster is straining to get out of his cage, just to sink his fangs into our throats! Kill him!"
"He hasn't said the last word yet," growled Bedivere, who even in this situation remembered the knightly code better than many, including Lancelot.
"With all due respect..." the inquisitor drawled quietly. "However, it is not safe to give a word to a sorcerer. Their false speeches can instill the worst intentions in souls. He must be executed."
- The court has made its decision! - Galahad loudly proclaimed and stood up. - The situation is controversial and the very fact of our world's fall into darkness speaks of the fact that our souls are full of flaws and sin. We have all made mistakes many times and are indeed guilty of what happened. After all that I have heard, I will not undertake to judge Mordred or evaluate his path. However, he will be executed. Executed not for who he was or who he became, but for witchcraft. And may Avalon grant him peace if his path was righteous.
"NO!!!" Kara exclaimed, but the soldiers immediately took her away, and the Inquisition began to heat up the nozzles of the flamethrowers.
- Mordred, you are sentenced to death by burning. May all darkness go with the flames and the Blessed Lands meet you pure. The trial is over!
And all the spectators exclaimed joyfully, looking with anticipation at the inquisitors ready to carry out the sentence.
"Five… four…" Tzeentch began to count, and my heart was filled with fear, but not because of my death.
At that very moment, the frost had already begun to turn into ice, which caused the mask to crack and I was able to raise my head, which surprised everyone gathered and even scared them.
- Three... two...
"The last word," said Galahad, looking at me with apprehension.
"Save yourself," I said, which stunned everyone gathered.
- One... one... one... hmm... that was unfortunate, - muttered Tzeentch. - Oh, right, I didn't take into account one more variable. The enemy's weapons are not laser, but magnetic, the coils have only just gained power to accelerate the bombs.
— Who⁈ Space Marines of Slaanesh⁈
- No, and not the Necrons. Something more terrible and dangerous, something you would only think of last.
And suddenly I felt like shells were rushing from space towards the planet, approaching the entrance to the atmosphere.
— How is this connected with the medallion, why is there such a strange calendar here, and why are these inquisitors so different from the one you have already met? Where is the aquila and the symbols of the imperial guard, which has garrisons in each of the worlds? Why does the local faith have nothing to do with the gods of chaos or the Emperor? And the most important question, why did the king mobilize the armies and where did the entire fleet go, keeping the peace of the system? Why did the rift happen and who was able to create it in the center of the capital, if with such a fierce hatred for magicians, enemy penetration into the royal ranks tended to zero? This world survived the dark era, the fight against the soulless and existed among all sorts of galactic threats practically alone for so long ... They are clearly strong, otherwise they would have been destroyed from within long ago. And that means ...
"The king himself created the rift," I guessed.
- True, true! That's logical, - the bird agreed.
- But why? Will you understand it yourself or should I answer?
Camelot was a fortress built to withstand the most terrible fire. Here stood the Knights, the main weapon, which had to be under the best protection. And even if the king's entire fleet went over to the traitors, he would not be able to crush the shields and armor with one blow.
However, the Royal Fleet had long since been destroyed and it was not they who fired the salvo. And those who did were not stopped even by the warp storm.
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