[quote=@Odin]
[center][i]“Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini Tuo da gloriam.”[/i][/center]

The prayer came early in the morrow, before even the crack of dawn had sounded, and before the sun had raised itself above the red desert sands. In the large church hall, there were approximately four Servant knights, heads bent in prayer, their swords not at their side but at the entrance to the hall. It would be one of the few times you'd find a Servant without his blade - either asleep, or in church. Among them was Ketill, similarly with his head bent in prayer, his characterizing beard being an easy way to spot him. For once, he was dressed in naught more than his tunic - no armor, no shield at his side, only a tunic, belt and linen trousers, as well as leather boots. The weather would not allow him to go around in his armor constantly - though one might get accustomed to the desert heat, Ketill had been gone long enough to lose that trait. 

While he was praying, the sounds of footsteps approaching behind the men was obvious, and though it bothered Ketill, he did not stir from his position. [i]Finish the prayer first,[/i] he thought, [i]then ask who dares disturb a prayer.[/i] Though he might not have looked the part - except perhaps for the iron monarchistic cross around his neck at times, hidden underneath his tunic mostly - Ketill was very much a zealous, devout believer, and while he was a man that took offense to little, disturbing his prayers was something he found most insulting. 

Though, for the reason that the Servants had done so, it might have been excused. [i]“Sir Ketill, sir,”[/i] a voice rang, deep and bold, brazen like a bull. Ketill did not look back, continuing to mumble his prayers. He would listen - not answer - as was expected of him. [i]“Your slave has been captured after a murder last night. She seems to be complicit, and the Servants that found her said that she had blood on her hands when they found her. The Hochmeister has requested your presence, that you might defend her.”[/i]

Again, once more, he did not stir from his crouched position, mumbling his words ever on - inaudible, but louder - and the man seemed to finally get the message. He crossed his arms and waited for Ketill to finish. After a few more words, a clear finish rang. [i]“In the name of the Monarch and his children, amen.”[/i] Slowly Ketill would get up and turn around, looking to face towards the man - he was a giant, larger than Ketill, taller than a mountain perhaps. He was strong, and clearly not of noble birth - his face was riddled with cuts and crooks, his nose bent in multiple places. Perhaps a criminal, looking for repentance. Ketill was not one to judge. All Servants were brothers, and all of them forgot their past when they joined. That was the commitment. 

[i]“I will come with you. Defending her.. I am not so sure. Lead the way,”[/i] Ketill answered him, his blue eyes matching the green ones of the giant in front of him. The man nodded and uncrossed his arm, heading for the exit. The church was built into the castle - a converted Sawarim prayer hall that over time had been retrofit for Monarchist prayer. They had even brought in one of the arch bishops, to hallow and sanctify the grounds and purge the remains of whatever Sawarim rituals and prayers had took place here. The Monarchists took their religion seriously.

When he passed by the four swords leaning against the wall near the exit, he took his, and attached the sheath to his belt again. He tugged it once or twice, making sure the thing was attached full and proper. Nothing worse than a blade falling off in the middle of a ride - or worse, a battle. They continued onward, first to the room of the hochmeister. 

Ketill stepped in and already found himself in the company of some familiar faces. The two quartermasters, the young lord that lead the expedition, the slave master, and of course, the militia commander. Joined with them was the hochmeister of the Servants, who was leaning on his table, and seemed to be rather concerned. The burly man that had fetched Ketill stepped forward, bowing deeply for the men and women in the room, before he spoke up. [i]“Presenting sir Ketill, lord Hochmeister.”[/i] It seemed like Ketill had been expected, then again, it was customary to involve the master of a slave.

Ketill stepped forward exchanging positions with the burly man, who now left the room. [i]“What is the issue now?”[/i] Ketill asked, standing at the edge of the table, placing himself between the slavedriver and the female quartermaster. It seemed like those two were the ones that were least likely to stab him in the neck, at this point. Frankly, Ketill was surprised that the slavedriver was even allowed into the castle, but that was another matter entirely. [i]“She murdered someone, from what I had gathered?”[/i]

[i]“Yes, she did,”[/i] spoke the Hochmeister, solemn in his voice. 

[i]“Then there is no doubt, we are certain she did it?”[/i] It seemed there was no doubt about the situation, but Ketill saw fit to ask anyway. A confirming nod from the Hochmeister affirmed his suspicions. [i]“Who did she kill?”[/i]

The face of the militia commander contorted in anger as he leaned in to the table, looking at Ketill angrily. [i]“The same man whose face you bashed in, you [b]fucking imbecile[/b]!”[/i]

The words came paired with spit and visible anger, which gave Ketill a reason to lift his eyebrow ever so slightly. [i]“I see. He had not learned his lesson the last time?”[/i]

The militia commander was going to retort - perhaps by drawing a blade, we would never know - but was stopped by the Hochmeister. [i]“They have history?”[/i]

[i]“Yes, he attacked her and tried to rape her. I stopped him, and broke his nose. The weregild has been paid, so I had assumed he'd learned not to be so hedonistic.”[/i]

[i]“Not all men are as pious as you, Ketill. Sawarims have no rights here - [b]you[/b] of all people ought to know that. Perhaps you acted right as a person, but in the eyes of the laws of men, you had no right to intervene with violence - even as her master.”[/i]

[i]“Are we savages then, Hochmeister? Does the holy book of our Monarch not say that we must remain civil in the face of heathens, infidels and the occult, lest we become worse than them?”[/i]

The militia leader now interrupted again, less angry perhaps, but still quite upset that one of his men had died at the hands of a Sawarim - or a Sawarim whore, as he'd have called her given the chance. [i]“Worse than a Sawarim? Hochmeister, when did you start allowing pansies like this sore excuse for a man into the Servants? Worse than a [b]bloody Sawarim[/b], pfah, those charlatans and infidels are not good for much more than serving us, proper Broacienien Monarchists.”[/i]

Suddenly the slavedriver would speak up, a mischievous look in his eyes as he looked at the commander. [i]“Serving you, personally, late at night in your tent, I take it, lord commander..? You have requested many of my girls - and I agreed, because you paid me.”[/i] Before the commander could interject, the slavedriver turned to the Hochmeister and spoke in that foreign Sawarim language that nobody seemed to understand - except the Hochmeister, apparently. <[i]“He's a fan of our finest girls - the ones with slim bodies and nice features. Pays good money for them, and treats them nicely as long as he gets what he wants. As for the girls that he doesn't get, well, if they are Sawarim he'd probably crush them under his boot.”[/i]>

[i]“.. yes, be that as it may be, lord, there is still the issue at hand here as to what to do with the woman. Whatever your thoughts may be about the Sawarim, in the end, she is a murderer, and must be dealt with accordingly.”[/i] The Hochmeister seemed to be ever the voice of reason, though Ketill would have had no problem with it if they decided her fate without him. 

[i]“I will retrieve her then. She deserves to hear her fate from our lips, at the very least.”[/i]

[i]“Pfah, you're just stalling. But fine, go get her, get this bloody process over with, so that we can leave at the end of the day.”[/i]

[i]“Leave?”[/i]

[i]“Yes, we've waited here long enough. I'm ready to get going.”[/i]

[i]“But we have offered you a few more days of hospitality, surely you would wish to-”[/i]

[i]“We are leaving. We are here for the banner, not to repair ties with the Servants.”[/i]

Ketill shook his head and walked away while the Hochmeister and the militia commander had their discussion. It wasn't worthwhile to listen to that, not while the woman he had been appointed by Lord Jachsen was apparently going out at night and murdering the militiamen. He was sure there was more to it - but that did not quite matter. She was a murderer and she would pay for it - it seemed like it, anyway.

He walked down to the dungeons, down the twirling round staircase and then into the cell block. There were many, many cells. Coedwin had a history of being a primary slavery settlement, where slaves were offloaded and bought and sold, and as such, the dungeons were huge. Finding her was an easy task however - there were only two cell blocks in use in these times. Slavery trade had settled down after slavers started engaging in slave wars over territory. It would die down in a year or two, and then the trade would pick up again.

She would hear Ketill approaching long before he saw her, his footsteps echoing in the halls. Dim lit corridors were occasionally lit with torches, but mostly you had to rely on your eyes. When he finally found her, he looked at her through the grates of the cell. [i]“Saina,”[/i] he'd say, looking at her with a hint of annoyance in his eyes. [i]“I should let you rot here. You've been nothing but trouble so far. Look at you. This morning I wanted to find my white linen tunic, but found you hadn't stitched it. What use are you, if not something as simple as that?”[/i]

It seemed almost humorous that he forewent the process of even mentioning the murder. He didn't seem to care - well, a fellow Monarchist was dead, but he was a savage, and he paid the price. Hopefully the Monarch did not punish him too hard for his deed, for he was a mere man after all. 

He reached to the right and grabbed the keys hanging from a pin on the wall, unlocking the cell door. He stepped inside, and stood closer to her. He offered her his left hand, helping her up, but when she would grab it and step up, she could suddenly see his right hand flying towards her with an open hand. Whether she braced or not, the hit would not come. His open hand had stopped mere inches from her cheek, his hand that had grabbed hers now violently squeezing hers in an effort to calm himself. He looked her in her eyes with his deep blue eyes, reminiscent of ice, or snow. It was silent and the silence was deafening. Ketill did not know that such a saying could be true but he finally understood it. After a few more seconds of silence, he'd let go of her hand, and lower his open palm that had hovered before her cheek. Then, he spoke, his voice calm as ever, as if he had not been taken over by anger moments before. [i]“You will die today,”[/i] he said, ominously. 

He stepped away, but turned back and drew his blade. The motion had been rapid and it was visible just how skilled Ketill was with his sword. And this was merely a one handed blade - imagine the damage he could do with a two handed blade. With a swift movement of the arm, he placed the tip of his blade against her chest, aiming directly between her breasts, slightly under the collarbones. She would feel the sting of his blade, piercing through the fabric of her dress slightly and poking at her chest. [i]“I ought to kill you now, and settle the stain on my honor you have caused me by myself.”[/i] He seemed serious, as if he would really kill her. The pressure of the blade on her chest would slowly increase, until he drew blood, the tip puncturing her skin softly, not more than a needle would have. [i]“That is what I would have done, were I not a man of the Monarch, or had I not taken my vows to him seriously. Instead, I will deliver you onto the mercy of the trial and I will pray for you that you survive. But the Monarch cannot help you. I will pray that your death is swift.”[/i] Even that would not be happening, he knew.

He removed the blade and sheathed it again, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her with him. Somehow he had managed to hold her by the same area where she had bruised at the very start of the trip - though, the bruises would have healed by now. He pulled her with him, towards the staircase, and headed back up. 

They headed all the way to the Hochmeisters room, where he would step in and somehow land himself in another discussion. The slavemaster was seemingly arguing with the young leader of the expedition. 

[i]“I don't think we can do that. Raid Sawarim villages for slaves, I mean. We are here on an expedition, not to make war.”[/i]

[i]“Nobody would know.”[/i]

[i]“The villagers would - the sultan would. Much as my hatred for that man is, he is a sultan, and we do not wish to incite another war. Coedwin has held this long, we can hold longer. But an offensive war in the desert-”[/i]

[i]“Is suicide. I am not asking you to go to war, I am asking you to raid villages with me.”[/i]

[i]“You do not understand. It's im- oh, it seems Ketill has returned.”[/i]

With a forceful shove, Ketill would push Saina towards the table. He did not seem angry, mostly annoyed perhaps. He did not care for his honor, name or prestige too much. Perhaps he cared for the inconvenience she had caused him time and time again. He would not cut his finger for her this time. 

[i]“Yes, it seems that way, young lord,”[/i] he replied, his eyes never leaving Saina's back. [i]“Go on Saina. Tell them what happened, why you were out late at night without my orders, and murdered a man. Your fate is sealed, but you might find some compassion left in these men.”[/i] His words were stern, sterner than ever before, and it was because Ketill realized the futility of the entire discussion. She would die - why prolong her suffering and make her hope for even the faintest glimpse of hope? It would not come. Not now, not tomorrow - she did not live to see tomorrow. If possible he would offer her some final soothing by swinging the blade on her neck himself - that way it would be gentle and swift. 

Most likely she would be left in the dungeon, and those men that had enough influence or persuasion could visit her, have their way with her, before she would be executed at the fall of the evening before the expedition moved on. It was little she could do for that. 

Fate was a fickle thing. 

Perhaps the next voice was a reason to believe in that.

[i]“Now, Ketill, treat her more kindly. This is not what I taught you.”[/i] The voice was older than any voice in the room, and it caused Ketill to look back. When he saw who it was, he dropped on one knee and bowed his head.

[i]“Your holiness,”[/i] was all Ketill said. The other men and women in the room looked at the man, who was dressed in fine black clothes of the Church, a golden rod - a staff of sorts - in his hands that he used to hold himself upright. There was a look of compassion in his eyes when he looked around the room to inspect who was there. The only other person to lower his head was the Hochmeister, who also uttered something like 'your holiness' when the man appeared. 

[i]“Get up, Ketill. I am no longer the young bishop I was once. I've come to realize that the whole process of having people kneel for me is rather tiresome. I'd rather see your face, so that I can tell whether you are being sincere.”[/i]

Slowly Ketill would rise, looking up at the man. His demeanor did not change. [i]“Yes, of course, your holiness. Your will is my command.”[/i]

The old man smiled at Saina, seemingly intrigued by her. [i]“You look familiar - have I seen you before?”[/i] He looked at her a few seconds more before shaking his head. [i]“Sorry, so many Sawarim girls visit the castle, I must be confused. I hope you enjoyed your stay here for so long, and I hope that we might find a way to prolong it.”[/i] His voice was one of genuine kindness, which perhaps Saina would not be expecting to find from a bishop of the Monarchist church. 

[i]“Your holiness, she is being trialed for murder, the evidence is here, and as you know Sawarim have no-”[/i] The Hochmeister had tried to speak but was interrupted with a wave of the staff from the priest. 

[i]“Nonsense. I will hear what she has to say. I overheard what Ketill said earlier - ah, see, I was waiting outside to visit one of my friends in the room across the hall. Lord-commander Davis, I'm sure you know. Nice man. Makes nice stews, too. Ah, I digress. Ketill was right. The Sawarim have no rights here - that much is true, and I do not stand to argue with that, for the will of the Monarch be done. But lest we turn to savages, I propose we hear to what she has to say. If I recall correctly, from what lord-commander Davis told me, the militia man was found murdered in a warehouse, found by his three friends.. with a rope behind the pillar he was found close to? Sounds to me like perhaps this man was not as innocent as the Monarch would have liked him to be.”[/i]

[i]“A-absolutely, your holiness.”[/i] The Hochmeister was convinced, and similarly, the young leader also nodded, his chin grasped by his index finger and thumb. He would've felt his stubble - had he had any.

Ketill bowed his head to the man, whispering a soft 'thank you' before turning to Saina. [i]“Very well, speak Saina, tell us what happened. Why were you out this late?”[/i]

He would ask her questions, as well as some of the other members of the trial. She would be allowed to tell her story, answer the questions, and if she had had any evidence, she would've been allowed to present it - though, given she was put in jail, it was unlikely she could procure anything like that just that easily.

[i]“Who was the man you killed?”[/i]

[i]“Why did you kill him?”[/i]

[i]“What of his friends?”[/i]

[i]“What did you do after you murdered him?”[/i]

[i]“His purse was missing - did you take it?”[/i]

[i]“Why did you return to the castle at first, and not turn yourself in?”[/i]

At the end of the trial, it seemed that the men had come to a conclusion. A vote was to be held. Each would state their position and would rule in favor of execution, or in favor of innocence. The hochmeister was exempted from the vote - he was only there to exact the punishment if they had decided on one. First to speak was the militia commander.

[i]“[b]I vote for execution.[/b] This whore just admitted she killed one of my men - she's a Sawarim! I don't care if she did it for a just reason or not. She deserves death.”[/i]

[i]“I vote for execution too,”[/i] the slave driver said, looking at Saina. He spoke to her in his language, though only the Hochmeister and herself would understand. <[i]“You should've taken my offer when you had the chance. I can't help you now - you were stubborn to continue to believe in our gods. If you survive, I'll come to see you. We should talk. Maybe your master will sell you to me now.”[/i]>

The first quartermaster was next, the male merchant that took care of the weaponry, armor and such. [i]“Execute her. We need to consider practicality. This is the second hearing we've had for her, and we can't keep slowing down. So, either execute her, or leave her in the dungeons here. Sell her, if you must.”[/i]

Then, the female quartermaster. [i]“She deserves a chance at life. It was obvious the man was.. looking for revenge. I paid his weregild - he should have been satisfied. Greediness is not a trait of a good Monarchist.”[/i] The bishop nodded at that remark, but remained silent.

Next, the young lord spoke, his chin still firmly between his index finger and thumb. [i]“I would have voted to execute her, but the bishop is right. We are men of the Monarch, not savages. We must not lower ourselves to their standards, lest we lose our holy favor. She can live.”[/i]

Finally, it was Ketill's turn to vote. His vote was expected, and not surprising. [i]“Live.”[/i] He needn't say more - his reasons were his own, and the grasp of the bishops hand on his shoulder affirmed his choice. 

[i]“Well. It seems we are tied.. that means that the choice defaults to execution,”[/i] the Hochmeister said. [i]“Ketill, you will.. exact the punishment, I take it?”[/i]

Ketill answered honestly. [i]“Yes. Right away.”[/i] He did not wish to prolong the trial, and he did not wish to prolong her suffering at the hands of other men. But the bishop stepped in, righteously so. 

[i]“Very well, it seems it has to come to this - I exact the right of holy intervention. The Monarch is not here, but I am. I will tell you what I believe the monarch would do - he'd spare this woman on the grounds of self defense, and he would indenture her to his servitude. As I have no need for a slave, I will indenture her to Ketill, as she was before, and so the status quo remains. That is my will.”[/i]

Ketill and the Hochmeister - two Servants, of course, indentured to the holy man himself - bowed their heads. [i]“Thy will be done, your holiness,”[/i] they added, and so it seemed to be decided that his will was to be exacted. The militia commander did not seem to agree, however.

[i]“You, y-[b]you will let her go?[/b] That's idiotic! IMBECILES! Seize her and execute her! What are you, mad? [b]DO IT AT ONCE. I COMMAND IT, HOCH-[/b]”[/i]

Suddenly, Ketills voice was raised, sharp as ever, but more brazen, strong like before, his hand immediately resting on his blade. The Hochmeister similarly rested his hand on his blade, getting ready for whatever might follow. [i]“You would not go against the wish of the bishop. You are in the home of the Servants, and we serve the faith, not your whims and desires. I suggest you treat the bishop with respect, as well as his choice. I have broken your mans' nose, and he is dead now. I wish not to threaten you, but me and the Hochmeister, as is every Servant in this castle, are indentured to the service of the faith, and that means the bishop too. Go against his wishes, and you will find yourself on the end of my blade, good lord.”[/i]

The bishop looked upon the scene with squinting eyes, awaiting what would happen. Slowly he reached for Saina, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him - and thus, away from the table and the scene that was playing out there.

 The militia commander reached for his blade at first, looking to challenge Ketill and the Hochmeister but his hand was firmly grasped by the young lord. [i]“Stay your blade. We do not wish to fight Servants - I will not fight them. If you wish to do so, do it on your own. We will not stand for it.”[/i] The militia commander grumbled and ultimately submitted, mumbling a 'fine'.

And so, with the trial over, Ketill would turn to Saina and the bishop, bow his head for the bishop, and usher a soft 'thank you, your holiness' before taking control of Saina's arm again. He pushed her into the hall and ushered her down the hall towards his own room. 

Once they arrived, he pushed her inside and closed the door behind them. His face spelled anger, but he did not feel that way. [i]“You survived. You are..”[/i] He did not finish his sentence immediately, only sighing. [i]“.. touched by divine grace, it would seem. But I cannot stand for this. Murder is murder. You have stained my honor and name. I would not sell you to anyone, but I am considering it now. There is no reason not to sell you to the slavedriver, is there?”[/i]
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