Chapter 1006: An Executioner (Part Two)

"It means that Ian Hanrahan is about to die," Cossot said, looking up into the crimson eyes of the powerful vampire. "Because, because the lady you serve has decided that now is the time for him to die," she said as she realized the truth that went with those words.

Sybyll had been strong enough to storm the keep and kill Ian Hanrahan for a long time. It was only now that she’d been allowed to that Ian would finally die, but his fate had been sealed long ago, perhaps from the very day that Sybyll had become a vampire. There had been an axe hanging above his head since long ago, he simply hadn’t realized it. Or if he’d known, he’d never believed it would really reach his neck.

"Aye, tha’ is part of it," Sybyll acknowledged. "But think past me cousin. Ask yerself what it means ta’ be a knight an’ executioner fer someone more powerful than ye are."

For a moment, Cossot was utterly confused. Why was Sybyll even asking her this? But she didn’t dare to keep the powerful knight waiting and so she furrowed her brows in concentration and tried to come up with an answer.

"I, I don’t know," Cossot said after thinking for several heartbeats. "I think it’s like a promise," she said, looking at Ian Hanrahan’s broken body. "He’s such a powerful lord, but against you, it doesn’t matter. You have the power to make sure he faces justice and that he dies for his crimes. That’s what I think it means to be an executioner and a knight. That you’ll make sure no one escapes justice for what they’ve done."

"But if your lady is even more powerful than you are," she added, looking back to Sybyll in confusion. "Then I don’t know why she needs you. She could just do this herself. So... I don’t know what it means to be someone so strong who serves someone even stronger like this."

"I serve a great an’ powerful lady," Sybyll said with a chuckle. "But she can’a be everywhere at once, Cossot," she said lightly. "She cannot do everythin’ that needs done. Even now, on tha’ eve of such an’ important battle, she has greater things than’ Hanrahan ta’ busy herself wit’. But yer’ not completely wrong ’bout tha’ promise I am."

"I asked me Mistress fer tha’ power ta fell tha’ people I hated, ta’ claim my vengeance no matter what," Sybyll explained. "An’ she gave it ta’ me. An then she told me, there would be other people ta’ sharpen me axe fer. People who never wronged me, an’ needed ta’ die, an she asked me if I could do that fer her. I didn’a understand then, but I think I do now..."

As she spoke, Sybyll walked to the corner of the cell and returned after retrieving a long blade, forged from a glittering metal unlike any that Cossot or Roseen had ever seen. The long dagger belonged to Jalal, and Sybyll had borrowed it for exactly this moment.

"I think me Mistress always worried tha’ one day, she might need ta’ kill a friend," Sybyll said as she looked deeply into Cossot’s eyes. "Tha’ Eldritch have their conflicts. If one day, she were betrayed by Lord Ritchel in tha’ High Pass, or High Lady Erna in tha High Fen... it would be hard fer her ta’ kill them, or even ta’ kill their heirs."

Lady Nyrielle had lived for centuries. She knew the current Eldritch lords and ladies who were her neighbors from the time they were little more than babes. She’d known their parents, or their predecessors, and she’d been a friend to many of them for generations. If one day, Jalal turned his claws against her, or if one of his children did, it would have been difficult for Nyrielle to take their life.

Sybyll hadn’t understood that before. But now, as she stood over the man she hated more than any other, she finally understood some of the struggle her Mistress faced.

"I hate Ian Hanrahan," Sybyll said fiercely. "An’ I want him dead more than anythin’. But I don’a have much kin left in this world, an’ Ian isn’a just me cousin. He’s me cousin Hugo’s father. Hugo’s a good lad an’ Ian weren’t much of a father to him, but... when tha’ moment comes, it’s hard ta’ see it done."

"Does he, does he have to die?" Roseen asked from behind Sybyll. "You could exile him, like Bastian. Or keep him locked up down here until... um, for the rest of his life. You don’t have to kill him," she offered.

"No," Cossot said, shaking her head. "He has to die. Dame Sybyll said it herself. Her Mistress has decided that now is the time for him to die. He deserves to die for all his crimes. It’s just, it’s hard for her to swing the axe. But just because it’s hard for her, it doesn’t mean that he gets to live."

"Just so," Sybyll said with a sad smile as her student arrived at one of the answers she’d been looking for. "He’s murdered more an’ just me mother, an done things worse ’an death ta many. An’ even if we locked him away fer tha’ rest of his days, there are always those who wouldn’a believe tha’ truth of his crimes. They’d fight ta’ rescue him, or return him from exile ta’ put him atop tha’ throne again. Like as not, they wouldn’a even care fer him. They wouldn’a do it fer loyalty, but fer greed in the hopes tha’ he would reward them fer tha’ rescue."

"So, since ye understand," she said, flipping the dagger around in her hand to hold the glittering blade while presenting the hilt to Cossot. "Can ye strike tha’ blow?" Sybyll asked. "I can tell ye how ta’ make it quick. He’s suffered enough. I’ve had me vengeance. Now, it’s time fer it ta end."

Roseen’s eyes grew wide as they fixed on the blade in Sybyll’s hand, and even Ian Hanrahan coughed and sputtered in disbelief as he heard the words drip from Sybyll’s lips. She’d come all this way, she’d carved a bloody path through the defenders of Hanrahan Town, shattered the gates of the great hall, hunted him down, jailed him, tortured him, and now she was hesitating... because he was her blood kin? Because she’d taken some kind of liking to his bastard son and didn’t want to kill Hugo’s father?

Neither Roseen nor Ian Hanrahan believed it, but Cossot didn’t see things the way they did. Instead, all of her attention was on the strange, glittering blade of the dagger while Sybyll’s words echoed again and again through her mind.

"Can ye strike tha’ blow?"