Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 61: TRIAL OF THE GOBLIN LORD

Chapter 61: TRIAL OF THE GOBLIN LORD

The Grand Chamber of Justice—a vast semicircular hall with towering marble columns and rows of polished oak benches—buzzed with feverish anticipation. Morning light filtered through stained glass windows depicting ancient kings delivering judgment, casting prismatic shadows across the gathered nobility. The air hung heavy with perfumed incense, a futile attempt to mask the stench of corruption that Reed’s sensitive goblin nose could detect beneath.

Reed stood in the accused’s circle, a mosaic of black and white tiles forming a perfect ring at the chamber’s center. His wrists bore ornate silver manacles etched with suppression runes that tingled painfully against his green skin. Despite being stripped of his weapons and ceremonial armor, Reed maintained the rigid posture of a lord, his amber eyes sweeping across the hostile faces of the royal court.

"Lord Reed of the Western Marshlands," intoned Lord Chancellor Blackwood, a spindly man whose black robes seemed to swallow the light around him, "you stand accused of high treason against the Crown. You have spread malicious falsehoods claiming that Her Royal Highness, Princess Elysandra, has been compromised by dark forces. How do you plead?"

The chamber fell silent, hundreds of eyes boring into Reed’s back. He could feel the weight of their judgment, their predetermined verdict. This was no true trial but a spectacle designed to discredit him before his inevitable execution.

"I speak only truth," Reed’s gravelly voice carried throughout the chamber without effort. "The shadows that consumed Lord Vermillion now reach toward the heart of this kingdom. The Princess is not herself—she is being prepared as a vessel for something ancient and hungry."

Gasps and mutters rippled through the assembly. A goblin accusing royalty of dark possession was unprecedented. Many nobles visibly recoiled, making warding gestures against evil.

"Silence!" The Chancellor’s gavel cracked against wood. "You will present evidence of these grave accusations or face immediate sentencing."

Reed’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. "I requested my evidence be brought forth—the artifacts recovered from Whispering Grotto, the testimonies of Lady Serena and Lord Everett, and the corrupted Hero bodies preserved in stasis. Where are they?"

Chancellor Blackwood’s face remained impassive. "Regrettably, the artifacts were deemed too dangerous for public display. As for your... allies, they await their own hearings for conspiracy."

Blood roared in Reed’s ears. They had isolated him, separated him from his evidence and supporters. A perfect trap.

"Then I have nothing but my word," Reed declared, "which has served this kingdom faithfully for twenty years. I stood against the mountain trolls at Blackspine Ridge when human soldiers fled. I negotiated peace with the feral tribes when your diplomats failed. I have bled for this realm more times than the stars you can count." His voice rose, addressing the gallery directly. "And now I tell you—darkness grows beneath us. The ritual was not stopped at Whispering Grotto; it was merely one branch of a greater plan. The Protocol Terminus advances, and at its completion, what emerges will devour everything you hold dear."

"Baseless fear-mongering!" shouted a voice from the royal advisory section. Lord Chamberlain Voss stood, his jeweled fingers stabbing the air in Reed’s direction. "The goblin seeks to create panic to mask his own treachery!"

Reed’s eyes narrowed. Voss had always despised non-humans in positions of power, but there was something different in his eyes now—a glassy, unfocused quality that Reed had seen before in the possessed Heroes.

Before Reed could respond, the massive bronze doors at the chamber’s rear swung open with a thunderous impact. Guards scrambled to attention as a bloodied figure stumbled forward.

"I demand to be heard!" Lady Serena’s voice rang clear despite her disheveled appearance. Her once-pristine white armor was stained with what appeared to be fresh blood, and a crude bandage wrapped her left forearm. "I bring testimony and evidence in defense of Lord Reed!"

Behind her followed Lord Everett, similarly battle-worn, supporting a trembling man in tattered noble finery that Reed recognized as Baron Kelther, one of the king’s inner circle.

Chancellor Blackwood rose from his seat, face contorted with rage. "This interruption is unacceptable! Guards, remove—"

"Let them speak." The command came from an unexpected source—King Eldreth himself, who had observed the proceedings in silence from his elevated throne. His weathered face revealed nothing of his thoughts, but his eyes held a sharpness that gave the Chancellor pause.

Lady Serena approached the central floor, maintaining a respectful distance from Reed as protocol required. "Your Majesty, three nights ago, we witnessed Baron Kelther undergo a transformation identical to those described by Lord Reed. His eyes turned black, his voice changed, and he spoke in tongues unknown to our scholars. When restrained, sigils appeared on his skin—matching exactly the patterns documented from Whispering Grotto."

Lord Everett guided the Baron forward. "Tell them what you remember, Baron."

Kelther’s voice quavered. "I... I was in my chambers. Something spoke to me from the shadows... offered power, influence beyond imagining if I would just... let it in." He shuddered violently. "I remember nothing after that until I awoke with Lady Serena standing over me, her blessed blade at my throat and holy water burning against my skin."

The chamber erupted in chaotic debate. Some nobles called for immediate dismissal of this testimony, while others demanded deeper investigation. Reed watched carefully, noting which lords and ladies seemed most desperate to silence Kelther.

King Eldreth raised a hand, and silence gradually returned. "These are serious developments that require—"

A sudden scream pierced the deliberations. At the gallery’s edge, a young nobleman convulsed violently, his body arching impossibly backward as black veins spread visibly across his face. His eyes rolled back, revealing nothing but darkness beneath his lids.

"The Herald comes!" he shrieked in a voice that seemed to echo from deep caverns. "The vessel awaits! Blood and shadow will reign!"

Before anyone could react, three more figures throughout the chamber began similar transformations—a royal scribe, an elderly baroness, and most alarmingly, one of the king’s personal guards.

Panic erupted instantly. Nobles scrambled toward the exits as the possessed figures began attacking those nearest them with inhuman strength. The elderly baroness, frail moments before, snapped a young knight’s neck with horrifying ease.

Reed reacted without hesitation. "Release me!" he shouted to the king. "Your Majesty, they target you specifically!"

The possessed royal guard had already cut down two of his companions and was advancing on the king with bloodied sword raised. King Eldreth’s remaining guards formed a protective ring, but uncertainty clouded their faces—they hesitated to strike their former comrade.

Lord Chancellor Blackwood made no move to assist, instead retreating behind his podium with calculated slowness that caught Reed’s attention.

"Release the goblin!" King Eldreth commanded, tossing a runic key to Lady Serena. She caught it mid-stride and rushed to Reed, unlocking his manacles with trembling fingers.

The moment his restraints fell away, Reed moved with the deadly grace that had made goblin lords legendary on battlefields. He vaulted over the witness stand, snatched a ceremonial spear from a fallen guard, and intercepted the possessed royal guard mere feet from the king.

The clash of weapons echoed through the chamber as Reed parried the guard’s unnaturally powerful blows. The possessed man fought with no regard for self-preservation, each strike meant to kill rather than disable.

"They’re stronger than before," Reed called to Serena and Everett as they engaged the other possessed. "The ritual’s progression enhances their capabilities!"

Throughout the chamber, more chaos unfolded as previously unsuspected cultists revealed themselves. Royal guards turned on their brethren, courtiers drew hidden daggers, and attendants blocked exits. What had begun as four possessed attackers quickly evolved into a coordinated assault by nearly twenty cultists.

Reed fought his way to the king’s side, using the spear with brutal efficiency. The possessed guard’s head rolled across the marble floor, black ichor spraying from the severed neck instead of blood.

"Your Majesty," Reed panted, positioning himself between the king and approaching cultists, "we must get you to safety. This attack was planned—they knew I would be brought to trial today."

King Eldreth’s eyes narrowed. "You still stand accused of treason, goblin. Why defend me?"

Reed impaled an approaching cultist through the chest without turning to look. "Because I serve the realm, not ambition. Because regardless of your distrust, you are the rightful king. And because your daughter can still be saved—but only if you live to authorize what must be done."

A momentary understanding passed between them—a fragile trust born in blood and chaos.

Across the chamber, Lady Serena and Lord Everett fought back-to-back, her blessed blade leaving trails of purifying light that seared the possessed. "Reed!" she called. "The Chancellor—he’s escaping through the royal passage!"

Reed’s gaze snapped to where Blackwood was indeed slipping through a concealed door behind the royal dais. "He’s one of them! He orchestrated this entire spectacle!"

"Go!" King Eldreth commanded. "I am protected." Indeed, loyal guards had finally rallied, forming a defensive perimeter around their monarch.

Reed sprinted toward the hidden passage, vaulting over fallen bodies and sliding beneath a cultist’s wild swing. The acrid smell of dark magic filled his nostrils as he approached the concealed door—the same corrupt energy he had sensed at Whispering Grotto.

He burst through the passage into a narrow stone corridor lit by enchanted sconces. Chancellor Blackwood stood twenty paces ahead, no longer fleeing but waiting calmly. His robes had changed, flowing now with shadowy patterns that seemed to move independently.

"You’ve been quite troublesome, goblin," Blackwood said, his voice overlaid with another, deeper tone that resonated painfully in Reed’s skull. "Always interfering, always surviving. We should have eliminated your kind centuries ago."

Reed readied his bloodied spear. "Who are you really? What entity speaks through this puppet?"

Blackwood smiled, his teeth suddenly too numerous, too sharp. "I am the voice of what comes after. The herald of the one who will wear the princess like a glove. And you..." His form seemed to waver, darkness pooling around him. "You are out of time."

The Chancellor raised his hands, and the corridor between them filled with writhing shadows that took humanoid form. Reed recognized the spectral shapes of Heroes he had seen fall at Whispering Grotto—their souls apparently bound to this monster’s service.

"The king may believe you for now," Blackwood’s distorted voice echoed, "but by nightfall, his daughter will be ours completely, and your warning will come far too late."

The shadow-Heroes lunged toward Reed as Blackwood’s laughter receded down the corridor. Reed braced himself, spear leveled at the advancing horde, knowing that beyond them lay answers—and perhaps the kingdom’s only hope.

The first shadow reached him, its ethereal claws passing through his armor and grasping directly at his life force. Pain unlike anything Reed had experienced before ripped through his body.

As darkness crept into his vision, Reed saw a flash of blue light from behind him—Lyra’s purifying power. Hope surged within him as he fought to remain conscious.

He would not fall. Not here. Not now.

Not when everything hung so precariously in the balance.