Read Online Scarred Man by Bevan McGuiness - Free Book Online

justice. They would want him publicly humiliated, and there would lie his only hope.
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    The sound of the key in the lock woke him from futile dreams. As the door creaked open, he struggled to his feet, to stand and face his jailer.
    â€˜Come on, visitor,’ the filthy man grunted. ‘Time to die.’ He stepped back and three guards surged into the cell. They quickly subdued Keshik and dragged him out. He stumbled often as they forced him through passages and up stairs. In moments he lost track of where he was or where he was going. His whole focus was on marshalling his remaining reserves of mental and physical strength so that he would be ready when that one moment, that one chance came.
    Massive double doors were opened and Keshik was urged inside. The doors slammed behind them and he was hurried across a large, featureless room to another guarded door, which was opened without a word. Beyond was a meeting room ringed with ascending rows of seats filled with robed figures. At his appearance, the room fell silent.
    He was forced inside and pushed down onto the floor.
    â€˜I bring to the Tribunal the man responsible for the murder of seventeen members of this Tribunal,’ the lead soldier declared.
    A sound not unlike a collective sigh filled the chamber. Keshik tried to regain his feet, but a booted foot shoved him back down.
    â€˜Face to the floor, murderer,’ a voice instructed. ‘You may leave us now, with our thanks, Servants of the Readers.’ The boot was removed from his back and Keshik heard the soldiers march away.
    â€˜Fellow Readers,’ the same voice went on in a loud, ringing tone, ‘we have the one who slaughtered so many of our colleagues.’
    Other voices cried out, their words lost in the general uproar.
    â€˜Silence!’ the first voice bellowed. ‘We will have none of this unseemly babble.’ The sound of a metal object striking stone rang out. ‘Silence, I say!’
    The cries of anger subsided. Keshik attempted to look up, but was struck a powerful blow on the back of his head. ‘You have no right to raise your head in this august company, murderer.’
    â€˜I will speak,’ Keshik said.
    The blow was repeated. ‘You will not speak.’
    â€˜Readers, this man’s guilt is beyond question. He has been vouched for by three of our Servants and no less than six individual Divining Readers and brought here for judgement. Once again, the skills of the Readers of Leserlang are paramount. Only the manner of his dying is to be decided.’
    As before, general uproar broke out, but this time the noise was allowed to continue for longer before the man with the floor again pounded with his staff.
    â€˜If I read the intent of the Tribunal right, he is to die in the Arch of the Shamed.’ The roar that followed this declaration was incoherent, an animal snarl of base hunger. ‘Now you may stand and face your judgement.’
    Keshik scrambled to his feet and stared out at the angry Tribunal. There were at least two hundred of them, all on their feet, roaring, shaking their fists at him. Men and women, faces filled with hate, standing in robes of different hues of red, all shouted at him, screaming for his blood. Even armed, he could not take so many.
    â€˜I will overcome,’ he whispered. ‘I willovercome!’ he shouted. ‘This is not justice. This is murder! You accuse me of murder, but commit it yourselves! And to do it, you deal with Alberrich. You sell women to the Agents of the Blindfolded Queen and ignore the actions of the real criminals!’
    His words were hollow, shouted in vain, seeking only to delay, to confuse, to buy time. His words served only to enrage them, to goad them on to further hate. The first missile struck him on the shoulder. The second, a book, caught him in the chest. In moments, he was being pelted with dozens of hurled objects. Books, trinkets, all manner of objects rained down