Once more a verdict was reached, and the Hall was silent, those within staring at one another a moment, confused as to how to proceed. The moment passed, and Isdon crossed to one of the Praetors guarding the exits, giving him instructions in a low tone. The Praetor gave a perfunctory nod and quietly left the chamber, Isdon’s tread seeming deafeningly loud as he walked back to Kodus’ side.
The crowd was hushed still, and Kodus let his eyes roam over them, attempting to scan the churning undercurrents and who was affected how. The merchant Zorg sat uneasily in one corner, staring – along with the guards wearing his crimson and grey tabard – unblinkingly at a man leaning unconcernedly against one wall, head hanging slightly and hair masking his face. Saros remained conspicuous in his absence, and Kodus wondered tiredly if he was a casualty or a threat, while several of those sitting at the back of the Hall had yet to make a contribution though the floor was open for all to speak as they chose.
At that moment the Praetor stepped into the chamber, and quiet muttering finally broke the silence as he approached the pit, stony-faced above his burden; the limp form of Khamaan, broken limbs dangling sickeningly, blood dripping slowly from the hole punched through his back, over his heart. The Praetor reached the pit and stood motionless for an immeasurable length of time before letting his burden fall, crossing himself absently as he turned and walked a few, short steps to stand before the Bastard. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as Khamaan hit the bottom of the pit – several in the Hall twitching involuntarily at the sickening crack of shattering bones. Face still set and emotionless, the Praetor started again.
“He gave me this, just before I did it.” He said, holding out a roll of bandages for Arthua to accept. He finally showed some expression, the corner of his mouth unexpectedly pulling up in a smirk. “Said it was the least he could do.” And with that he nodded shortly, walking back across the wall to rejoin his comrades.
Kodus could only shake his head in disbelief. ‘Soldier’s humour…’