Fighting For Justice

She was standing on the balcony, wild white hair straying from a careful bun. I thought I would just pass her by, creep by as quiet as a cat, but her head tilted when she heard my footstep and suddenly she whirled.

“Reykr!” She practically screamed, voice high and shrill. One might mistake her for a deranged old woman.

“My lady? Is there something I’ve done?” She was seething. This was not a good sign.

She stepped closer and hissed, “You know perfectly well what you’ve done! I make you the Aed of my army and this is how you repay me?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” I knew full well what she meant.

She could barely contain her anger. “You let him go!” She shrieked. “You let him escape past the dim-witted guards and off into the Barren lands where you know we cannot follow!”

I said nothing.

“How can you stand there and face me so stoically and self-righteously when my brother’s killer is not beheaded in a ditch because of YOU?”

“Drottning,” I started. “The servant you sentenced to death was innocent.”

She slapped me across the face, but I barely felt the sting; she was not trained as I had been to slap hard enough to break my opponent’s nose.

“YOU WERE THERE! YOU SAW HIM PUT THE GLASS OF FOUL POISON IN FRONT OF MY BROTHER!”

“He may have placed it there, but it was unwittingly so. You saw the way he looked when he was accused, drottning. He was the messenger, no more. We both know who was really behind this.” I replied, trying my best to remain calm.

“No, Reykr, no! There has to be some justice, some revenge! He must be punished!” She was near hysterical now, tearing at my leather vest.

“There will be justice, my lady, but killing an innocent man will not bring you peace.” I was stern, but in truth, I pitied her. She’d just lost her brother and a dear friend.

She sobbed. It was an awful, heart-wrenching sound that I felt through my chest to the very core of my being. “He can’t be dead. My little brother can’t be dead.”

I patted her awkwardly on the back, unused to so much display of raw emotion.

“There’s nothing you can do, for the moment.” I said.

“I know. I know. But what am I going to do without him?” She asked in a small voice.

“Rule,” I responded. She looked up at me with big eyes, but I only saw untapped strength in their depths. “Rule because the people need you. Be their Queen. Justice will come with time. Your brother’s killer will get what he is due.”

She took a deep breath, but it didn’t shake or tremble, and she smoothed her hair and clothes. In a moment she was composed and unearthly, all elegance and grace. The Queen looked at me with a penetrating stare. “Promise me. Promise me you will carry out all that is necessary to bring justice for my brother’s murder.”

I didn’t hesitate. “I promise.”