Scene Forty Eight
In front of the castle steps, the centaurs start to revive, and Proteus writhes upon the ground. Miranda and Hamnet gaze adoringly at each other. Will and Quicksilver look on the couple with bittersweet tenderness. They all start as the rumble of thunder echoes.
Quicksilver started. Thunder? In the crux? Could that be, when there was neither rain nor true sun here?
Then he saw the gigantic shadow leaving the white castle and forming into almost human aspect as it approached. It was a hunter on a giant horse, who rode down the front steps followed by snarling, dark dogs.
Miranda cried out and held Hamnet tight in her embrace, as tears ran down her face at her adopted father’s approach.
Still on horseback, the Hunter stood a few paces from the group.
The centaurs attempted to rise but could only fall again and whimper in fear.
Will jumped to stand in front of Miranda and Hamnet, his arms open wide as if to protect them.
And Quicksilver, feeling less than innocent here, feared the blood would drain from his heart as he faced the immortal lord of Justice.
“How, now?” the Hunter asked, his voice rumbling with the thunder of all the storms absent from the crux. “What have we here?” He looked at them, a smile of amusement in his inhumanely perfect features.
“It seems to me that all of you are guilty of crime, or action, or absent thought.” He grinned. “So make confession and, mind, make it true. Some will be pardoned, the others punished. For never was there tale of greater woe than this you have enacted.”
Quicksilver, rousing himself, looked at the perfect immortal face, then glanced back at his scared companions who lay upon the sand. He stepped forward.
He must take his punishment and protect everyone else. He could feel Silver’s agreement within him.
Naked and vulnerable, his silvery blond hair his only covering, leaving bare the scars with which war had marked his flesh, he stepped forward and bowed to the hunter.
“Lord of Night, and Justice and Eternal Law, leave my companions and adversaries in peace, for I alone am guilty.
“By my own reasoning and upon my own head, I decided to suppress what I was and make myself only into a king of fairyland.
“Thus became I inflexible and harsh and, with my stern rule, tempted my kinsmen to revolt.” He waved towards Proteus. “By my ill thought did I also allow crimes against centaurs and trolls to continue, till those races erupted in fresh mutiny. Thus did I, my crown and power abuse, till the reels ensnared in their plots my friend, his son, your daughter.
“All here are innocent, save myself. I alone am guilty and you may punish me.”
He knelt and waited, and the Hunter looked on him.
Quicksilver’s heart beat fast, fast. Would the Hunter kill him? Or make him one of the cursed dog that, even now, slavered and strained towards Quicksilver’s flesh, lacking only the Hunter’s word to let fly?
The Hunter’s loud, rumbling laugh erupted, and Quicksilver looked up, terrified.
“O king, you are guilty indeed,” the Hunter said, "of folly and love. But if those were the crimes that I punished, there would scarce be a living being, human or elf, still alive on Earth. Trust that Lady Silver who shares your soul, and mend your ways. You’re not so guilty that you can, upon your shoulders, carry the burden of guilt of all these here.”