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guards said.  We are to escort the prisoner to the Hall now. Arden gave Tirion a last, pleading look and
marched out the door in a huff.
Tirion straightened and attempted to look as proud and confident as he could.  I am ready, gentlemen,
he said to them. They bound his hands and led him outside. The bright, midday sun caused Tirion to
wince slightly. His limbs were tired and cramped from the past few days of inactivity. The guards
marched him across the square toward the imposing structure of the Hall of Justice. Out of the corner of
his eye, Tirion caught sight of the gallows scaffolding being erected. He surmised that it was the source
of the hammering he had been hearing. Briefly, he visualized Eitrigg standing upon the gallows with a rope
tied around his neck. Tirion had to work hard in order to keep his forced semblance of confidence. If
Eitrigg died, then all his efforts would have been for nothing.
* * *
An hour later, Tirion was seated in a large oaken chair in the middle of the polished courtroom floor.
Before him was an immense stage adorned with four throne-like chairs. At the center of the stage,
directly in front of him, was a large lectern where the judge would conduct the trial. Above the stage was
an enormous white flag bearing a stylized blue letterL, which signified the Alliance of Lordaeron. Lining
the vast walls of the chamber were other huge banners representing the seven nations of the Alliance. A
large blue banner embroidered with a golden lion signified the kingdom of Stormwind. Another banner,
black with a red-gauntleted fist, represented the kingdom of Stromgarde. Tirion was too nervous to look
around at the others.
Though he could not bear to turn around and see his comrades accusing faces, he could hear a hundred
voices whispering and muttering at once throughout the grandiose chamber. Through the din, he
discerned that everyone in attendance was shocked to hear that he had betrayed them. Many of the
onlookers had served under his command during the war, and many others he considered to be good
friends. He could feel their communal confusion and scorn buffet him in waves. His trial would not be an
easy one.
Far to his right, he caught sight of Barthilas sitting in attendance. The young Paladin had a condemning
look in his eye as he gazed intently at Tirion. Tirion wondered why the youth had turned on him so
completely and been so eager to see him disgraced. He turned away from Barthilas as another armored
Paladin made his way to the front of the stage.
 Defenders of Lordaeron, the Paladin said in a clear voice,  today we stand in judgment of one of our
own. The trial of Lord Tirion Fordring will now commence.
Tirion realized that his palms were sweating. He had to physically restrain himself from shaking. He knew
that the four jurors would enter the Hall soon. Every major trial in Lordaeron was presided over by four
of the highest-ranking lords within the Alliance. Tirion was sure that he d recognize many of them as his
peers. The attendant onlookers hushed as the first of the jurors entered.
 All hail Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore of Kul Tiras, the Paladin said as the tall, lanky figure walked
across the stage. Lord Proudmoore took the throne-like seat on the far right with a look of disquiet on
his proud face. Tirion knew Proudmoore well. Despite being a tactical genius, the Lord Admiral was one
of the greatest heroes of the war. His officer s uniform and large, ceremonial hat were deep blue and
adorned with golden medals and pins signifying his rank as master of the Alliance s navies.
The Paladin spoke again.  All hail Arch-Mage Antonidas of the Magocracy of Dalaran, he said as the
second juror strode in. A hush descended upon the crowd as the mysterious wizard took his seat. His
lavender hooded robe was adorned with black and gold trim, and he carried a great, polished staff in his
hands. Ever distrustful of magic, Tirion hadn t had many dealings with wizards over the years, and was
somewhat disconcerted to find that his fate was now in the hands of one. He looked back to the Paladin
as the last two jurors were announced.
The venerable Archbishop, Alonsus Faol, who had anointed Tirion as a Paladin long ago, walked in and
took a seat next to the lectern.
Following the Archbishop was the young prince of Lordaeron, Arthas, who had only recently been
made a full Paladin. Tirion had never met the young prince before, but he could see that the handsome
youth radiated goodness and wisdom despite his relatively young age. Tirion wished fervently that
Barthilas had had the prince s composure, days before.
With the jurors assembled, the Paladin motioned for everyone to rise for the judge s entrance. All of the
attendant men and women rose as Uther the Lightbringer entered the Hall and walked forward to the
ornate lectern. The mighty, holy patron of the Knights of the Silver Hand scanned the assembly with stern
eyes the color of ocean storms. His ornately etched silver armor seemed to reflect every light source in
the vast Hall bathing Uther in a halo of shimmering beauty. Uther was the first Paladin, and was held to
be the mightiest warrior amongst the armies of the Alliance. He was also held to be the wisest and most
noble of all the holy Paladins. Everyone in the room was cowed by his commanding presence.
Tirion s mind reeled. Up until that point, he was resolved to stand by his decision and accept his fate
with honor. But, looking up at the stern visage of his powerful superior, his courage wavered.Perhaps
Arden was right? he thought frantically.Maybe he should beg for the court s mercy and forget that
he ever made a vow to an enemy of humanity? His thoughts were disrupted as the Lightbringer s
powerful, melodious voice filled his ears.
 Lord Paladin Fordring, Uther began.  You are charged with treason against the Alliance and failing to
obey a direct order given to you by your superior. As you know, this is a dire charge. The noble lords [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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