Refocusing, Brandon sought out Sir Adam, who was wrestling with an internal storm of feelings – shock from his grandson's departure, sadness over the family ties now irrevocably altered, and bewilderment over the revelation of Brandon's unexpected paternity.
"Where are the corrupted officials I asked for?"
Sir Adam, sensing Brandon's intent, quickly shook off his daze and signaled to a nearby soldier.
The assassin who had initially been holding one of them at blade-point gave a contemptuous shove, sending the soldier stumbling into the line of officials.
A few of them flinched, their eyes wide, but they quickly regained their composure, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.
As they were brought before Brandon, the reality of their situation seemed to sink in.
Their shoulders slumped, the arrogance and authority they once held replaced by a defeated resignation.
Brandon's eyes swept over them, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp, taking in every detail.
He recognized some of them, men who had been responsible for the death of his childhood nanny.
Men who had once held power and used it for their gain at the expense of others.
He could feel the anger bubbling within him but kept it under control.
There was a time for emotion, and there was a time for action.
Now was the latter.
"Line them up,"
Brandon ordered, his voice cold and commanding.
The row of officials, once proud and unflinching, now found themselves at the mercy of a figure they had never expected to face. The realization of their situation began to sink in, and one by one, their knees started to give way.
"Kneel," Brandon's voice boomed, resonating with authority.
They obeyed, some dropping to their knees more willingly than others, their faces contorted with terror. A few broke down completely, sobbing and begging for mercy, their voices choked with fear.
"Please, King Brandon, spare us! We were only following orders!"
One wailed, while another glared defiantly.
"Your kingdom needs us; our knowledge can serve you. Spare us, and we will pledge allegiance to you!"
Another pleaded, tears streaming down his face.
The stench of urine filled the air as one elderly official lost control of his bladder, the dark stain spreading across his robes.
Their dignity had been stripped away, replaced by raw, unfiltered fear.
Little Baron, witnessing this gruesome display, felt a wave of fear wash over him.
His eyes widened, and he instinctively hid behind Brandon's armored leg, peeking out just enough to watch the scene unfold but close enough to feel the protective presence of his father.
"If these bad people hurt Mommy or Jade, what would you do to them?"
He asked, his voice gentle but firm.
Baron's eyes, filled with confusion and innocence, darted between the trembling officials and his father's gaze.
The weight of the question hung in the air, pressing down on his little shoulders.
"I... I dunno," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I'd want them to say sowwy…"
Brandon's eyes met the fearful gazes of the ten elderly officials, his face stoic but his eyes ablaze with a righteous fury.
The trembling men, once high and mighty, were now reduced to pathetic figures, their bodies quivering with terror.
Baron clung to his father's leg, sensing the tension in the air, his bright eyes filled with curiosity and a touch of fear.
He looked at the men, their faces lined with age, and then up at his father's determined face.
"What's happening, Daddy?"
He asked, his voice small and unsure.
Brandon knelt down, his eyes softening as they met his son's.
"Baron,"
Brandon said, his voice gentle but firm,
"These men have done very bad things. They have hurt people, and they must be punished.". Do you understand?"
Baron looked up at his father, his eyes wide and filled with confusion.
"Daddy, they're scared. Can't we forgive them if they're sowwy?"
Brandon's heart ached at his son's innocence, torn between a father's love and a king's duty.
He wanted to shield Baron from the cruelty of this post-apocalyptic world, yet he knew that the truth, however harsh, was a lesson he must impart.
It was a betrayal of innocence, but a necessity in surviving this harsh realm.
He hugged Baron close, his voice gentle but firm, knowing that the lesson he was about to teach was a harsh one.
"Son, in this world, there are people who will hurt us, hurt those we love, without a second thought."
"Saying 'sorry' is easy. But can we trust that they truly mean it?"
"Can we risk them hurting those we love again?"
He saw confusion, fear, and a plea for understanding in his son's eyes.
Baron looked up at his father, his eyes wide and filled with confusion.
"But it's mean to hurt old people."
Baron's voice wavered, a child's innocence colliding with the brutal necessities of power and justice.
Brandon sighed, knowing that this was a moment that would forever shape his son's understanding of the world.
"Yes, it is. But these men were mean to others when they had the power. They hurt many people. We have to make sure they can't do it again."
He saw understanding begin to dawn in Baron's eyes, but also a deep sadness.
Brandon turned his son away from the scene, not wanting him to witness the brutality that was about to unfold.
Brandon hugged Baron close, feeling his son's small body shake with sobs.
"Baron,"
He whispered, his voice filled with love and gravity.
"We must be kind to those who deserve it, and strong against those who would do us harm. Never let your heart be soft towards those who have proven themselves to be your enemies."
From his kneeling position, Brandon signaled to Baph.
Ten of his soldiers lined up behind each official, each holding a spear, their faces as stone.
The tension in the plaza was palpable, the silence almost a physical weight.
The officials, understanding now the fate that awaited them, began to break.
"PLEASE, King Brandon, King Void!"
One begged, his voice cracking with desperation.
"I have children, grandchildren. Spare me, and I will do anything you ask!"
"I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING!"
Another wailed, his body wracked with sobs.
"MERCY!!! MERCY!!!"
The pleas went on, each man's words a testament to his terror, his regret, his desperation.
But Brandon's face remained impassive, his eyes cold.
Finally, when the cries had reached a fevered pitch, Brandon's face remained resolute as he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
The soldiers behind each official raised their spears, the cold metal glinting in the dim light.
Time seemed to slow as the officials' eyes widened, their faces contorted in a final plea.
One by one, the spears were driven through their throats, each thrust followed by a haunting gurgle and a dull thud as lifeless bodies hit the ground.
*THUD…* *THUD…* *THUD…*
The scent of blood was thick in the air, a metallic tang that clung to everything.
The bodies slumped to the ground, lifeless, the life that had once animated them snuffed out in an instant.
The plaza fell into a shocked silence, the only sound the soft crying of a small boy, grappling with a lesson he was too young to fully understand.
His body trembled as he listened to the screams, his eyes wide with confusion.
"It's okay," Brandon whispered,
"They have faced the justice they deserve."
He knew his son was beginning to understand the grim reality of their world.
After it was over, Brandon wiped away Baron's tears, his own eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and resolve.
"Remember this, my son,"
He said, his voice soft but unwavering.
"We must be kind, we must be just, but we must never be weak. Our world demands strength, even when it feels cruel. Do you understand?"
His voice trembled slightly, betraying the inner turmoil of a father forced to teach his child such a painful lesson.
Baron looked into his father's eyes, seeing the pain and resolve there.
He nodded with reddened eyes, his small face set with a determination that mirrored his father's.
"Yes, Daddy. I… I can bwe stwrong like you."
In that moment, Baron grew in ways that were both beautiful and heartbreaking.
He had learned a cruel lesson, one that had stripped away a piece of his innocence.
But in its place, he had gained a depth of strength and understanding that would shape his destiny.
Brandon hugged his son close, knowing that he had done what he must, but feeling the sting of the price they had both paid.