Chapter 41: Part III-2

"I see nothing on this stage that resembles justice, least of all your hands. Where are these men's defenders? Where is their trial?" The redheaded man scoffed. "These men have no defenders. Who would come forward for the likes of them?" Tristan folded his arms over his chest. "I would." He pointed at the little boy. "I gave him a gold coin just this morning." "You lie." "I speak the truth, as does the boy. But even if I weren't, a public flogging is hardly a fitting punishment for such a petty crime. By the looks of it, you and your companion have plenty of gold coins to spare." The redheaded man flexed the whip. "Perhaps we ought to whip you, my lord." Tristan raised a brow. "I wouldn't advise that." The redheaded man took a step closer to Tristan. "And why's that?" Tristan looked at him unflinchingly. "Well, for one, I'd beat the living daylights out of you before you laid even a finger on me." The redheaded man guffawed. "You must be from out of town. You're speaking to a Paladin, boy." So the little girl had been right about her brother's captors. Tristan's lip curled in disgust. "As are you, old man." The bearded man rose from his chair, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "I am Paladin Parsall, and this is Paladin Boyle. We have been tasked with watching over this city by the High Commander himself." "And a great job you're doing of it, too," said Tristan sarcastically. He retrieved his knife from his boot and knelt beside Charlie. "You'll be alright, boy." He slashed through the ropes that bound the little boy's wrists. Charlie rose shakily to his feet and then darted around Tristan, cowering behind his right leg. "What do you think you're doing?" the redheaded man – Paladin Boyle – demanded. "What right do you have to interfere?" Tristan rested his hand gently on the boy's head. "Like I told you, I gave this boy a gold coin. You would have him unfairly punished for my generosity." "You might be a Paladin – and that is dubious," said Paladin Parsall with a sneer. "But we have been defending the people of Westergo for nigh on six years now. You don't know these people like we do. If we didn't use a firm hand, the city would dissolve into chaos. What are you, a year out of your apprenticeship? You're young, Paladin, but you will learn the truth of it soon enough." Tristan gritted his teeth. "I may be young, but even among the Paladins, my name commands some respect. Paladin Tristan Lyons, at your service." He swept them a mocking bow. "And I swore the same oaths as you – to serve and protect the people. From demons, Paladins. You overstep your bounds." Paladin Boyle spat at his feet. "Paladin Lyons? Prove it." Tristan sighed, and removed his coin pouch from underneath his shirt, pulling out a neatly folded piece of parchment paper from the leather sack. "Here," he said, unfolding the document. "See the Seal of the High Commander for yourself." Paladin Boyle grabbed the paper from Tristan and quickly scanned the contents. "It's addressed to a Paladin Tristan Lyons," he admitted. "But it permits you to pick up silks on the High Commander's behalf, not interfere with our business." "Your business, as you call it," said Tristan, spreading his arms to encompass the stage, "is not the business of the Paladins. I suggest you take another look at your vows." He gripped Charlie's hand reassuringly. "I'm taking the boy with me when I leave this stage. The others, too." Paladin Boyle's jaw tightened. "Perhaps the boy is innocent as you claim, but the others are guilty." "Consider it a day of amnesty," said Tristan. He squatted next to the teenaged lad and freed his wrists and then tended to the older man. "I am not so naïve as to believe that a few harsh words from me will put a stop to your puerile justice system. The High Commander will be hearing of this." "The more fool you, then, if you think he'll condemn our behavior," said Paladin Parsall. Tristan crossed the stage until he stood toe to toe with the bearded Paladin. "How dare you cast aspersions on the High Commander's character," he said, his voice low with fury. "Your antics may not be his top priority, but he won't turn a blind eye to this." He leaned closer. "In the meantime, if I find out you've touched a hair on the boy's head, I'll deal with you myself. Do I make myself clear?" Paladin Parsall swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Aye, understood." Tristan smirked. Good to know his name carried weight even among those who had never seen him wield a sword. He'd worked hard to earn his reputation as a man not to be trifled with. "Now return the boy's gold to him." Paladin Parsall's fists were clenched and his neck was red with embarrassment, but he did as he was bade, throwing the gold coin at the boy's feet. Charlie hesitated, and then snatched up the coin, depositing it into his breeches. "We'll be off, then," said Tristan, reclaiming Charlie's hand. The bearded Paladin's eyes narrowed. "You'll get your comeuppance one day, Paladin Lyons." Tristan faced the Paladin with a smile that could freeze fire. "That well may be," he said. "But it won't come from the likes of you."