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Warning - contains some violence.

Icon art from the Mermul reference by Billie/FeatheryFlukes

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Chapter 4 - Justice

"How safe are we, really?" Mermul asked nervously. They were in an area of parkland, where a number of dragons, furres and humans alike were exercising or dozing in the sun.
Fiskul the Devourer was snoring gently beside them, but the blue-grey fluff-dragon kept glancing nervously at the green hills as if expecting to see the glint of a sniper rifle.

"The city is protected from the air by a mass barrier," Fardon said. "Birds, insects, rain and so forth are able to enter, but dragons and aircraft cannot. People enter and leave through designated ports like the one we used. By the way, that's another reason we have to fly low within the city - too high and you'll hit the barrier, which isn't much fun.
"It's not perfect but it gives us a measure of protection against a direct assault by Hunters and rival factions such as Thurr and his mob. Leaving the city, however, is risky as you know. The Hunters try to sneak into the surrounding regions. If they get too close we can usually stop them, but further out..." he shrugged his wings. "It's a no-man's land."

"Do Hunters try to sneak into the city itself?" Mermul asked worriedly.

"Sometimes. We can't completely stop acts of terrorism," Fardon admitted. "But they generally need weapons to do much harm, and we can catch those at the border.
"Hunters do send folks to the university here, though. Not often, as it usually backfires. Atlantia is the nearest Hunter territory and no dragon will be entering or leaving there alive. So they don't exactly have any of us to study... But at the same time, they need people who understand our physiology, even if it's just to kill us. So they send youths to the Institute of Dracology."

"What happens?" Mermul asked.

"Either their loathing for dragons slips through and they're caught, or they go native," Fardon said. "Lord Varl does not wish to be vindictive. If they want to join our side, they're welcome to stay. Otherwise, they'll be thrown back in the disputed territories in short order. If they're caught perpetrating some atrocity... Well, the sentencing will be swift," the larger dragon sighed.

"What about... Lord Thurr?"

"We have caught his agents here before now," Fardon said. "I'm sure he has his spies, but as long as they don't do anything too extreme... No point in starting some kind of witch-hunt. If they do..." Fardon sighed. "Well, it's the worse for them. That rogue who burned the Hunters and the migrants... Might be the work of a lone maniac, but it's probably one of Thurr's boys running amok."

Just then an electric motorcycle arrived, and stopped in front of Fardon. The driver was a black jaguar, who took a large scroll and handed it to the dragon.

"Thank you," Fardon said, and lowered himself so the rider could reach the collar around his neck. The cat reached up with a small hand-held device which emitted a beep, and then headed off.

Fardon opened the scroll and scanned it briefly.

"Ah," he said. "Good news and bad news. Your application for citizenship has been received. We'll need to fly to the capital tomorrow to start the process."

"Is that bad?" Mermul asked, looking a little confused.

"No," Fardon said. "The good news is for you. The bad news is for me."

Fardon rolled up the scroll and placed it in a pouch on his collar. "Remember, I am a knight of Lord Varl," he explained. "And unfortunately I have duties to perform. I would advise you stay at the park until I return. I do not think you will not wish to see this."

"What are you going to do...?" Mermul asked nervously.

"I am going to kill a man," Fardon said quietly, looking at the rolling grassland and clear blue sky. "The Hunter who shot Fisk. The others shot themselves to avoid capture, but he has been taken alive. I am to carry out the death sentence upon him."

"But, uh... Fisk is alive," Mermul pointed out, gesturing at the sleeping black form.

Fardon shifted uncomfortably. "Do not tell anyone that," he said in a low voice. The other dragon opened his mouth indignantly to protest, but the knight placed a hand on his shoulder to silence him.

"Mermul, listen. That revelation would be do more harm than good, when people discover why he survived. It would sow panic that the end-times are here. Worse, some Hunters justify their actions on the basis that one of us is destined to devour the world, and we don't want to feed that fire. You, of all people should know this!"

"True... But then you'll be executing someone for murder when their victim is still alive!" Mermul hissed, looking appalled. "That's not right!"

"No, but it wouldn't change the outcome, Mermul. Fisk was just one of his victims. And while Lord Varl favours rehabilitation and redemption, this... criminal... has also attempted to kill me, one of our mighty Lord's officials. Such an insult to his authority cannot stand."

"Isn't this a conflict of interest?" Mermul asked. "You being both a target and the executioner?"

"Strictly, yes. But that it just an unhappy coincidence," Fardon assured him. "Executions are rare, and our Lord does not wish to encourage undue bloodlust by having a dedicated headsman. But at times like this, justice must be done - so it falls to his knights to do the deed. We have a rota, and it so happens to be my turn."

"It seems... a bit soon," Mermul said. "I know they tried to kill us all... But shouldn't the judgement take longer than that?"

"It should have," Fardon agreed, looking troubled. "Taria isn't perfect, Mermul. Nor is Lord Varl - at the end of the day, he is a dragon and his sense of morality does not always align with other races, or even other species of dragon," he added, gesturing at Mermul's blue-grey fur. "For attacking a high official, my Lord wanted to make an example of this Hunter, and his advisors - from all races - concurred.
"Even so, the hunter received a fair trial, defended by a member of his own race. You or I would receive summary execution in Atlantia, remember - if we even lived that long."

"But... a show trial?" Mermul protested.

"No. Lord Varl is not a tyrant. At least, he tries not to be. The Hunter himself cut things short. He's a cultist, and not only pleaded guilty, but boasted of his deeds. What could his legal defence do with that? I suspect he wanted to become a martyr... Well, he shall get that wish. But it still... stinks. Perhaps that was the point..."

"How will you... martyr him...?" Mermul asked sadly. "The rope...?"

"No," Fardon said. "We do not do that here. Firstly, it is unnecessarily cruel, even by dragon standards. But more to the point, Lord Varl has gone to great lengths to try and make our kinds equal before the law. It is not practical to hang a dragon, and a slow, painful death that is specific to the smaller races will send very bad signals.
"To kill in self-defence is one thing, but setting out to take the life of another... We wish to be as fair as possible about that. No... I must take the condemned man's head."

"I see," Mermul said, looking unhappy. "That would certainly work for... all cases."

"Indeed. They will be given a choice, to die by tail blade, the axe, the sword, or the guillotine."

"What about biting?" Mermul asked nervously.

"We do not do that here either," Fardon said, looking at the blue dragon curiously. "We do not wish to frighten the smaller races. Also, that risks swallowing the blood and flesh of a fellow sapient, which we find abhorrent. Remember, we are trying to have a society where dragons and smaller races can coexist and barbaric acts - reminders of what we could do if unrestrained - that will not reassure them. I have heard Lord Thurr does this... biting the heads off humanoid enemies and eating them."

"He has also been known to eat his fellow dragons," Mermul shuddered.

"In any case, it must be done," Fardon sighed. "And I must prepare. Please remain here with Fisk. I will return later - pray, do not betray my trust, as it will not look good on your citizenship application if you run off."

* * *

Fardon stood in the courtyard of the regional administration building in Tarnover. He wore ceremonial platemail and the polished armour gleamed in the sun.

"For the crimes of murder, and the attempted murder of a high official of Lord Varl, the court has found you guilty," the dragon intoned. "The sentence is death by beheading. Have you any final words before that penalty is carried out?"

The soldier was a tiger, and stood defiantly, his hands bound behind his back. A wolf and a puma held his shoulders firmly.

"I have regrets," the tiger said. "If I could live my life again, I would have killed twice as many of you worms, and the traitors who aid you to boot!"

Fardon sighed. "Then, in the name of Lord Varl, I must send you to the gods," he said. "May they show mercy on your soul."

"And may the Devourer take yours!" the Hunter snarled, as the two guards moved him forwards, towards the wooden frame of the execution device. His step faltered slightly as he took in the blade that shone menacingly in the dwindling sun. Soon he was lying on the table, head staring down into the waiting basket.

Hunter took a great gasp of breath as Fardon's gauntleted hand closed around the lever.

"DEATH TO ALL WORM-" the Hunter yelled, his voice cut off abruptly. Army boots kicked once and went still, as did his tail. Silence fell, save for the faint pattering of blood on sawdust.

"Justice is done," the dragon boomed.

* * *

Some time later Fardon returned to the park. Fiskul and Mermul were waiting for him near the entrance.

"Are you alright...?" Fiskul asked, looking concerned.

Fardon glanced back at them. "It is part of my job," he said. "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to..."

"No!" Mermul yelped. "Remember what his job is! Don't give him ideas!"

"True," Fardon grimaced. "Be that as it may, I pledged to serve and protect my Lord and my people, knowing that it would mean the spilling of blood - whereas Fisk had his duty thrust upon him unwillingly. No-one can complain if he is delinquent in that regard, especially when he does so to protect his friends."

"It's in the claws of the gods now," Fiskul said piously. "You have done your part, and while the taking of life is regrettable, you have saved many more."

"I am a dragon," Fardon said. "We can fight our instincts, our desire for domination and the thrill of taking prey, but we cannot suppress it entirely. Intellectually I know that the Hunter's execution was regrettable but necessary. He was not even just a Hunter, but an anti-dragon cultist as well. But... actually taking his life... that was... enjoyable."

Mermul just looked miserable.

"So, you feel guilty because you liked it," Fiskul stated. "And you feel you must atone for... For being the way you were made. I do understand... And I'm proud of you for it."

"Thank you for your kind words, Fisk," Fardon said, making the dragon equivalent of a smile. "I am not sure what the Blessings of the Evil One will do for my spiritual credit rating, but... Thank you for understanding."