Free ISOF by Pete Townsend

so stupid again. You’ll get us both in trouble messing with them Jaresh guards and bringing unwanted attention upon yourself.’ She pushed him towards a doorway. ‘In here quickly,’ she ordered, giving him a push.

Chapter 10
    Surprised by the sudden push, Ben stumbled forward, his hands flailing about in front of him. A hand shot out, grabbed him and pushed him against a wall.
    â€˜Stand there, don’t move, don’t fidget and don’t speak until you’re spoken to okay?’ ordered a voice.
    Stunned into silence, Ben stood where he was told while the hand walked swiftly towards a huge chair. Nervously looking around, Ben could see that he was in some sort of courtroom. Around the walls hung ornate tapestries of hunting scenes and festivals. Immediately to one side sat a group of important looking people sitting on an intricately carved wooden bench while in the gallery above crowds of local people gathered, chatting eagerly and pointing at the scene below.
    The owner of the hand, a tall figure, dressed in a long sombre gown and wearing a dark silky hat with earflaps, bowed before the chair and spoke.
    â€˜My Lord, the thief.’ As he spoke the last two words, he swivelled, stepped to one side and pointed his finger towards Ben. The babble of voices rose to a crescendo as the accusation rang out.
    â€˜Quiet!’ shrilled a small, dumpy figure sat behind a large desk, a pen hovering over a large leather-bound book. The noise faded to a simmer as the figure, which Ben thought looked suspiciously like a pantomime understudy, took a slow look around the courtroom and then returned to its attention once more to the book. Ben smiled at the curious Humpty-Dumpty look-a-like.
    â€˜See, my Lord,’ declared the tall figure. ‘He sneers at the accusation. His face is a picture of contempt.’
    Once more the crescendo of voices rose to a deafening roar. Ben tried vainly to make his voice heard amongst the crowd.
    â€˜Quiet!’ shouted the Humpty-Dumpty figure.
    Everyone was quiet. Looking nervously around the room, Ben was aware of a sea of faces scrutinising him. Seated beneath a tapestry depicting a regal oak tree, with branches disappearing into the depths of the weave, was the Humpty-Dumpty figure draped in a maroon robe and wearing what Ben thought was a dead cat on its head. The figure beckoned him forwards.
    â€˜Come here boy. Let me get a look at you.’
    Ben approached the chair. Lord Tolc, or at least Ben assumed that this was Lord Tolc, peered at him closely and then nodded.
    â€˜So,’ said Lord Tolc. ‘You’re the duck thief are you. Let me tell you boy...’
    â€˜I had nothing to do with that,’ spluttered Ben. ‘I didn’t…’
    Lord Tolc waved his hand in front of Ben.
    â€˜Enough of your mumbling, boy. Where was I? Oh yes. Let me tell you…’ Lord Tolc leant forward. ‘Look at me, boy when I’m speaking.’
    Ben lowered his eyes from where he’d been tracing the various routes of the pictured oak branches.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ he said half-heartedly. ‘I was distracted.’
    Lord Tolc followed Ben’s gaze.
    â€˜Admiring our crest,’ he observed. ‘The sacred oak is very precious to our people,’ said Lord Tolc proudly. ‘It is a sign of strength and longevity, something that we Dilpends regard as a powerful symbol.’
    â€˜Not quite so powerful now,’ coughed the tall figure.
    â€˜What’s that you say?’ snapped Lord Tolc.
    â€˜I said,’ replied the tall figure, ‘that the concept of longevity for both the sacred oak and our people is now somewhat of a myth.’
    â€˜Balderdash!’ exclaimed Lord Tolc bouncing on his chair with anger. ‘Explain yourself.’
    â€˜My Lord,’ fawned the tall figure. ‘I was merely attempting to point out that times have changed. We can no longer reflect on past glories but look