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Raised voices grew louder the farther I descended the steps of my tower, getting closer to the main hall.
"… outrage, he needs to be killed," Ohlav declared loudly toward a growing audience. In one hand he held the headless body of a chicken, which he swung around for maximum effect.
"If that creature is allowed to—"
"What is going on here?" I bellowed, stopping Ohlav's tirade even though I already had a pretty good idea of what was going on. The proof had entered my bedroom, bloody and feathered, not too long ago.
"Your tribute's pet killed the chickens. It's a bloodbath," Ohlav screamed, waving the dead bird.
"How many?" I asked tight-lipped because this was a serious offense. Chickens brought us eggs and meat, their feathers made for great pillows and some even sew them into bedding.
During the cold season, we relied on the food stock we had stored. It was too cold to go hunting and most prey were hidden in hibernation. The ones who weren't would be not only hard to find, but without much meat on their bones.
Furbo killing all the chickens was a blow to the people inside the stronghold. Not a fatal one, but with spirits already low because of being locked in for so many months, people would take this more seriously. Thankfully, we had enough other livestock and stored reserves to get us through the worst of the cold without having to starve or even experience any hunger pains, nevertheless, my subjects were spoiled, and eggs were a big part of many meals.
"Where is it? It's time to put an end to the animal. Predators like it have no place inside a stronghold," Ohlav declared, making as if he was about to climb the stairs to my tower.
I grabbed his arm to stop him. "Where do you think you are going?" I demanded in a clenched voice.
"He needs to be put down, Warlord."
"Do not dare touch him, or I will poison your food, Ohlav," Fiona threatened. A mumble of agreement followed her statement, and I noticed half-amused that Furbo did have some supporters willing to stand up for him against his haters.
"That may be so, but it is not your place to decide," I growled, fully aware of the pain Furbo's death would bring Alahna, not to mention that I had… grown fond of the demon.
"I mean no disrespect, Warlord, but neither is it yours," Ohlav stated, challenging me.
"He's right," Grian, my steward, supported him. "He's your lady's pet. You cannot judge this incident clearheadedly."
"I'm your warlord," I pressed out between clenched teeth, teetering on the edge of bashing both males' heads in for challenging me.
"If I may, Warlord," Cassair stepped in. "Considering the great crime that has taken place here and how close our great Warlord is to the… accused, ahem, suspect; I think we should hold a tribunal to determine the guilt of Lady Alahna's pet and possible punishment."
A few snickers turned into subdued laughter as the tense situation loosened lightly. Cassair had always been a great diplomat and had brought many strained situations under control. His charisma was one of his strong suits and usually endeared him even to his greatest adversary.
Never had I been more grateful to my friend than now, where I feared I might have been forced to assert my authority as a warlord in a rather unfair way.
No matter how both Ohlav and Grian had overstepped their rank, they were both right. Under normal circumstances, I would have put the animal down no questions asked, but this was my lady's pet, as had been pointed out.
"And who will preside over said tribunal?" I asked Cassair, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Me, of course," he said, winking. I sighed in relief. Even if Cassair found Furbo guilty, I would be able to ascertain my power as warlord and pardon the offender. Keeping me in good graces with my chosen mate.
"Invite Lady Alahna and her pet down," I ordered a guard, praying Alahna had cleaned the little miscreant.
"And just to make it clear, anybody putting a hand on either one will answer to me." I met each of the males' and kallinies' eyes who had assembled in the great hall, which by now, closely consisted of the entire stronghold's population.
Tables were rearranged, and I didn't miss Cassair's obvious delight in presiding over the affair.
Alahna came down the stairs, holding Furbo defiantly in her arms, who, to his credit, seemed to understand the kind of trouble he was in and stayed in her embrace. Now and then his head poked up and his adorable eyes took in his audience.
With satisfaction, I noted an atmosphere of excitement among my people. The cold season had already lasted well over a month, and everybody was beginning to feel the effects of being locked inside the walls. No matter why we were here now, this kind of excitement was just what we needed.
Even though it was Thorton's feast day, this was different and enough to dispel the drudgery of everyday life during the dreary season.
"Who brings forth the accusations?" Cassair opened the tribunal.
Ohlav stepped forward with a stern expression on his face and a scowling glare toward Furbo in Alahna's arms. "Me!"
