Chapter 5 - The Trial of Blood and Iron
"Nathaniel! No!" Eleanor screamed from the balcony.
Nathaniel ran faster than he ever had in his life. The wind whipped through his dark hair as he breached the perimeter of tactical guards. Two security officers moved to block him, reaching for stun batons, but Nathaniel ducked beneath the first man's arm, hit him with a sharp elbow to the ribs, and kicked the second guard’s knee out from under him. Years of hauling heavy iron pots and fighting off bullies in orphanage back alleys had made him tough, fast, and relentless.
He reached the front of the acoustic cannon rig, grabbed a heavy steel crowbar from the back of an open supply truck, and slammed it directly into the generator housing.
Sparks flew into the night air as the generator exploded in a shower of white hot light. The agonizing high-frequency whine cut out instantly.
Aurelius shook his massive head, his golden eyes snapping back into focus. With a deafening snarl, the dragon swept his giant wing across the ground, sending the remaining tactical guards flying into the shrubbery.
Alaric Voss stumbled backward, dropping his electronic transmitter as Nathaniel turned on him, crowbar clutched in his hand, his eyes burning with fury.
"Get off this land," Nathaniel said, stepping toward Alaric. "Now."
Alaric backed away, his face pale, until he bumped into the hood of his sedan. "You... you violent brute! You are a menace to this family!"
"I am the heir," Nathaniel said, slamming the crowbar into the dirt inches from Alaric’s polished shoes. "And if I see your private mercenaries on this property again, I won't use a crowbar. I'll let Aurelius handle it."
Everett watched the entire confrontation from the front steps of the manor, his hands trembling. He saw the way the estate guards—men who had answered to his family for decades—looked at Nathaniel. They weren't looking at him with contempt anymore. They were looking at him with fear and respect.
Alaric scrambled into his car, shouting at his driver to retreat. The remaining armored vehicles sped away down the dark driveway, leaving the courtyard in a tense, echoing quiet.
Aurelius lowered his head, pressing his warm, scaled snout against Nathaniel’s shoulder. The pale birthmark beneath Nathaniel’s shirt glowed with a faint, comforting light, healing the bruises he had suffered during the brief fight.
Charles walked down the steps, stopping beside Nathaniel. He looked at his son with a mixture of pride and profound sadness.
"You defended him," Charles said softly. "No Wycliffe has stood in front of a dragon to protect it since the founder of our house."
"He was hurting," Nathaniel replied simply, tossing the crowbar aside. "You don't let a creature get tortured just because it's convenient for a trial."
Charles turned to face Everett, who was still standing on the steps. "Everett. Come down here."
Everett slowly walked down the marble stairs, his jaw set, refusing to look Nathaniel in the eye.
"Tomorrow morning, the Trial of the Ledger takes place in the Grand Library," Charles said sternly. "Alaric thought he could use violence to force a resolution tonight. He failed. Tomorrow, the truth will be laid out in front of every trustee in this state. Everett, I suggest you think very carefully about which side of history you want to stand on."
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Everett looked at Charles, then at Nathaniel, and finally at Aurelius. "I stand with House Wycliffe, Father," Everett said coldly. "And House Wycliffe was built on order, not chaos."
Without another word, Everett turned and walked back inside the manor, slamming the doors behind him.
