WAYFARER: CLAIM THE UNCLAIMABLE

By the next morning, most of the town had already gathered outside Baron’s mansion. Residents packed the open square, leaned from balconies and filled the spaces behind temporary barriers while workers secured the raised platform in the center. Guards occupied every road leading toward it, and officials moved through the gathering with the calm efficiency of people preparing for an important public ceremony rather than the deaths of two strangers.

Inside the mansion, Baron sat at the long table with the innkeeper and several officials nearby. A thick agreement rested in front of Arch, considerably larger than anything he had signed since arriving in town, and Baron pushed it across the table while explaining that it was the final document necessary for someone who intended to remain beneath his shelter.

”You should read this one carefully,” Baron said, tapping the first page. ”Once it’s signed, there shouldn’t be anything uncertain between you and this town.”

Arch rested one hand on the document without opening it. He looked at Baron instead and answered calmly, ”If it came from you, then it must be for the town’s sake. I have no intention of doing anything against you or the people living here, so I doubt there’s anything inside worth arguing over.”

Baron smiled at the answer. Arch accepted the pen from the innkeeper, signed where he was shown without turning another page and slid the document back across the table as if the matter required no further thought.

Several officials and Wayfarers were already preparing to leave for the execution ground. One after another, they approached Baron before departing, lowered themselves briefly and touched his feet while offering quiet words of loyalty or gratitude. When Arch’s turn came, he followed the same custom without hesitation.

Baron rested a hand against Arch’s shoulder before allowing him to stand. ”A man with your experience shouldn’t spend the rest of his life wandering. Once today is finished, we can discuss what place you should have here.”

”If the town has use for me, I see no reason to leave,” Arch replied. Baron seemed satisfied enough with that answer to hand the agreement to the innkeeper and tell him to store it with the others before sending someone downstairs for the prisoners.

Sio and Angle were brought up from beneath the mansion soon afterward with the dark suppression shackles still locked around their wrists. Sio tested his Claim once while the guards led them through the corridor, but nothing happened; no portal opened, and the restraints remained irritatingly effective.

The noise outside grew louder with every step toward the mansion entrance. When the doors finally opened and sunlight struck Sio’s face, he needed only a few seconds to understand how seriously Baron had taken the execution, because the square ahead looked packed almost from one building to the next.

Angle noticed something else first. Arch stood near the rear of the execution platform, and a broad executioner’s sword rested beside him.

Angle slowed enough that the guard behind him had to shove him forward. His chained hands closed tightly, and his thumb pressed against the side of his finger until the skin beneath it turned pale.

Sio saw the movement and kept his mouth shut. The expression on Angle’s face reminded him too much of Mira during the days surrounding Vise, when she had watched Sio as though looking away for even a second might be enough for someone to take him again.

Sio had understood that fear from the side of the child being protected. Standing beside Angle now showed him another side of it, because Angle wasn’t merely afraid of dying; he was staring at the man who had raised him and wondering whether his own father was about to be the one who killed him.

Sio had enough fear of his own to understand. His mouth had gone dry before they reached the platform, and every movement of the shackles against his wrists reminded him that if the sword actually came toward his neck, there would be no portal appearing at the last second unless somebody removed them first.

The guards forced both of them onto their knees near the center of the platform. Baron sat above the square in an elevated chair surrounded by officials, generals and the three Wayfarers who had overwhelmed them the previous evening: the large Riven with rough black stone-like armor, the grey-coated woman with three floating silver rings, and the short-haired woman whose pale-blue Scar ran from her jaw to her fingertips.

Baron rose and lifted one hand toward the crowd, waiting until conversations gradually faded. ”These two entered our nation and turned against the people who welcomed them. They infiltrated my residence, attacked citizens who attempted to restrain them and threatened the order that has allowed this town to prosper, and today they will answer for what they have done.”

Sio stared over the gathered faces while Baron continued. Yesterday he might have found something ridiculous in being labelled an enemy of an entire nation after spending barely any time there, but kneeling on an execution platform made that thought considerably less funny.

Baron explained that after their deaths, the Wayfarer Nexus would be contacted and the bounties attached to them would be claimed. According to him, the money would return directly to the town through repairs, supplies and expanded trade routes, and several people in the crowd began cheering before he had even finished.

That reaction bothered Sio more than open hatred would have. Baron really had repaired roads, protected travellers and helped businesses survive, and whatever his Claim could force from people when he actively exerted control, not every good thing they believed about him had been planted there.

Metal scraped against wood behind them as Arch lifted the sword. Angle’s shoulders tightened immediately, and when Sio glanced sideways, he saw both of Angle’s hands wrapped around the chain between his wrists hard enough to hide most of the trembling.

Sio shifted one knee until it touched Angle’s briefly. He didn’t promise they would survive because he had no idea whether they would, but Angle looked toward him after a moment, steadied his breathing and gave the smallest nod before facing forward again.

Arch stepped into position behind them while Baron lifted his hand. ”Proceed.” The single word carried across the quiet square, and Sio felt his entire body tighten before Arch even moved.

The shadow of the sword stretched across the platform as Arch raised it. Sio could hear his heartbeat harder than the crowd, and the blade came down fast enough that instinct made him jerk even though there was nowhere to go.