The War was begun. The last great age was over. Night fell on the times. But some things cannot wait.

The following account is taken from historical records.

Episode Fourteen – Rest in Peace

In a clearing in the central west of Aisorbma, several hundred countrymen have gathered around a huge pyre.

Atop it is a dead man, his hands around a sword he never wielded. And he would be proud of that. For thirty years, as a Paladin, a Minister, and finally the Prime Minister, there has been peace.

It is said that a single man can make all the difference. What a shame he might have felt, then, to know that within hours of his death war was declared.

Paladin Bemosolinata, the first traitor, had heard the initial argument about the actions the Ministry should take following his death. Minister Setovarinesa had delivered the victorious argument that war was the most appropriate response to what now totalled two successful raids, several unsuccessful raids, three assassinations and numerous petty attacks in the riots. The Aisorbmii simply had to show they meant business.

Rekowarilara had led the opposing argument, that war was the very thing the Prime Minister sought to avoid and it would be an insult to his memory to take this course of action. He was supported by the Doctor, Medofesipanu, but others did not yet understand Rekowarilara's sudden return to stable mental health, and uncertainty overshadowed all the merits of his perspective.

Both Rekowarilara and Medofesipanu spoke on the Prime Minister's behalf at the funeral, but Bemosolinata did not hear them. He was denied all such privileges. But he could hear the whistle of the arrow which sailed through the air, its point wrapped in oil-soaked cloth and lit. And he heard the great whooomph as the pyre took light.

Bemosolinata spent the day in a cell, his hands chained to the ceiling, awaiting interrogation and then sentencing.

Time passed. Finally, the door opened, and several Aisorbmii entered the cell. Several took guarding positions, and Paladin took a chair at the door. A final Marshal closed the cell behind them, and faced the imprisoned Paladin.

'Yer time has come,' he said, approaching Bemosolinata from the front. Then the Marshal turned and circled Bemosolinata in a clockwise fashion. The prisoner watched him disappear behind his right, then reappear by his left.

Then he stepped in close. 'My name is Marshal Rekowarilara,' he said. 'Remember that.'

Realisation struck Bemosolinata first. The Marshal struck him second, in the waist, winding the prisoner, who tried to double over, but couldn't, because his arms were still attached to the ceiling. Instead his feet compensated by leaving the ground for a moment.

A Marshal... Rekowarilara was a Marshal. Of course he was. He'd been a marshal for years. He'd only been relieved of duty during his madness, unleashed by the sudden severing of the psychic link he'd shared with his now murdered brother.

'You remember me,' said Rekowarilara. 'Good.'

Bemosolinata coughed and nodded, then curled his fingers around the chains and drew himself to his feet. Rekowarilara kicked him in the belly.

'Let's get all the unpleasant explanations out of the way for the court's sake,' he said. 'My name is Rekowarilara. I am a Marshal, and I am thirty years old. I am the half-brother of Paladin Tekowariaura, who was killed protecting the Prime Minister of Aisorbma three weeks ago today.

'My father possessed a psychic gift, which he passed onto both his sons. We two would have dreams occasionally, which allowed us to see what the other was doing. But we had different mothers, and we also had a different secondary talent. Tek would see visions, such as the one he transmitted to me at the time of his death.

'I can only guess what his vision meant. Only half of it has been revealed. There is a silver lion, leading a pride of lions? – the Prime Minister, leading his forces west. Eagles descending? The nobles. A lion who becomes a silent snake? Finogilisera. But the rest – the teeth which remain, the grass which grows, and the woman with a sword – of these we have no clue. And outside of my delirium I can no longer see the signs.

'This prophecy and its revelations are – and are becoming – historical record. I inform you of them only to convince you of my brother's talent. Now I seek to convince you of my own. I am a partial telepath. I can glean thoughts. In many interrogations, including the interrogation of Baroness Erica del Erica, I have used this talent to read minds. It is the reason I have been so effective in the past.'

Rekowarilara paused at this, which anti-climaxed his speech. His lips moved, as though he was talking to someone very quietly. At one point the words '-she's here-' became audible. He stood, palms crossed in front of his lower torso, moving his mouth.

'Marshal Rekowarilara, are you all right?' asked the Paladin on the chair. The Marshal gave no response.

'Marshal?' asked one of the guards. Bemosolinata smiled. The interrogator was going mad... it had humour to it. The guard spoke again: 'Perhaps this wasn't a good idea, sir.'

Rekowarilara held up a hand, fingers spread, to indicate that the guard should remain still. The rest of him hadn't moved, and he was still silently babbling. Bemosolinata stood up and grinned. The Paladin looked worried.

The Marshal's lips stopped moving. He tilted his head to one side. 'My apologies,' he said. 'Something just occurred to me. I'll come back to it later.'

'Traitor Bemosolinata. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that you attempted to assassinate the Prime Minister. The intent of this interrogation is to discover the exact motives for your actions.'

The Paladin spoke. 'Bemosol. Were you present at the Council of Paladins three weeks ago yesterday?'

Bemosolinata remembered: the Paladins, the tables, the unopening of tins... 'I was,' he said.

'Were you the man who attempted to assassinate the Prime Minister on that day?'

The chaos of the night... 'No.'

'He was there, but he didn't do it,' said Rekowarilara. 'This much is true.'

'Are we expecting him to lie, Rekowar?' asked the Paladin.

'We're expecting him to tell us whatever will get him in least trouble, Paladin Volonitisegi,' said Rekowarilara. 'And in case he is unsure, yes, I am reading his surface thoughts. When a question is asked his memory will provide the answer before the rest of him can lie.'

'I see. Then it is possible we have another traitor somewhere,' said Volonitisegi. 'Bemosol. You are in allegiance with the Kingdom?'

Several thoughts moved through Bemosolinata's mind before he answered, 'No.' He was sweating.

'There's doubt,' said Rekowarilara. 'Are you in allegiance with the King? No, you're not – don't bother answering if you don't want to – a noble house, then? More than one... show me.'

Bemosolinata recalled the various nobles' faces even before he tried not to... and he was surprised at the level of detail he could remember.

Rekowarilara seemed to be babbling again, but this time not for long. 'Several of these men have led raids on us. Two of those raids were against the village at the border. That's unusual.

'Your assassination attempt came at a time when you were surrounded by several Paladins. This seems very stupid...' Rekowarilara paused again... '...given that you could have betrayed us during the raids... oh.'

The Marshal stepped back. 'Paladin Volonitisegi, please record that Paladin Bemosolinata padlocked the barn before the second raid. Eight Paladins and their horses struggled to escape when the barn was set on fire. None survived, confirmed by their absence at this camp.'

'Duly recorded,' said the Paladin.

'You're just going to trust his word?' shouted Bemosolinata. 'He's mad, he could be accusing me of anything!'

'Your guilt of one crime is already a matter of record, Bemosol, and Marshal Rekowarilara is still the best interrogator we have. Rest assured, he is so attuned to you now that he cannot lie about your thoughts.'

'The betrayal was his idea,' said Rekowarilara. 'Covert, simple, effective. The assassination attempt was not his idea. That came by instruction, afterwards.'

'The bugle?'

'That may have been one trigger. It wasn't immediate, so I suspect there was a second. I would have to delve deeper to find it though...'

'You imply a hypnotic suggestion? Could it explain all Bemosolinata's actions?'

'No, the padlock was betrayal. He knows that. He's shining that like a sun. But the murders... murder, he wasn't the first assassin, that was someone else... that's not him.'

'Is there any other matter we should bring up?'

'Why did you betray the Aisorbmii?' asked Rekowarilara. There was a moment, and the Marshal punched himself in the side of the head. 'He's a closet heathen,' Rekowarilara announced. 'He likes both kinds of rice pudding.'

'The worst kind of heathen,' said Volonitisegi. 'One who only pretends to be one of us.'

'Bemosolinata was an informer, sir, concluded Rekowarilara. 'He was hypnotised into an assassination behaviour, nothing more.'

'He killed eight Paladins, so you say, Marshal Rekowar. And he was an informer. The sentence is immediate death. He will be executed by-'

Bemosolinata's hearing disappeared.

Then his vision.

He lost all sense of his body. All he could feel was the voice.

Hello, Bemosolinata, it said. Do not worry. I'm communicating with you from my sanctuary with Rekowarilara. I merely wish to comfort you, before you go... as a fellow tool of the Conspirators. They're working behind the scenes, behind everything. All the conspiracies you knew are tools of theirs. They're coming to rule.

Who are you? thought Bemosolinata. What do you mean?

I'm a fellow tool of the Conspirators. I've already served my purpose, and they've already killed me. But I'm back, and they won't expect that. I'm back and I can fight them before it's too late.

And what about me? asked Bemosolinata. If what you say is right, they organised the conspiracy which did this to me. I would never have killed the Prime Minister, I wouldn't! Can I fight with you?

No, said the voice, You can't fight. You're going to die for your betrayal. But I can let you know you'll be avenged, I can give you that much. I'm going to live again, and I'm going to fight for my country against the Conspirators.

Your country?

Yes. The Kingdom.

The Kingdom? Who are you?

Now there's an immodest thought. Your last memory being my name! Well, when you go wherever it is you're going to, tell them what I'm doing. Tell them I'm going to avenge them all. I'm the Marquis Endam ar Berrito, and I'm back from the dead to save all the living!

They chopped his head off with a very sharp axe, in case you were curious.

But I suspect my viewers are more curious about other issues of the day... how was the Marquis resurrected? Who were the Conspirators? And what will happen next?

But be comforted. Some of our questions have been answered. These others have merely taken their place. In turn there will be more. Only with further research will we find the answers...

The Next to the Custard
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