Alonso Kerrigan of Taranith was an enormous disappointment to his father, Michaelus.

The old count had fought his way to his current standing amid the aristocracy through force of arms and alliances with strong but dubious factions. Balancing harsh diplomacy with skillful expressions of battle prowess, Michaelus Kerrigan had secured a reputation of strength untempered by mercy. His status as a warrior allowed him to force an alliance with a weak and ailing lord, Count Starden of White Falls. Through the marriage of the lord’s only child, the Lady Mara, Michaelus became heir to the lord’s lands and title.

One year after their marriage, Mara bore Alonso, a weak and sickly child who was not expected to survive a single winter. Michaelus was disappointed that his first heir should be so frail and held little love for him or the woman who bore him. Alonso surprised everyone, however. Though still sickly, he continued to draw breath and grow in the nurturing care of his mother.

That same year, Count Starden died and Michaelus eagerly claimed his “noble” prize. Wielding his newly acquired influence like a bludgeon, Michaelus began to lay the groundwork for a campaign of sovereignty... only the crown of Taranith would satisfy him. To his wife and child he paid little attention, already planning to find another more suitable vehicle for his lineage.

Ironically, he perished from a lengthy struggle with White Fever in the following year, leaving Lady Mara and her child in a precarious position. Michaelus’s political brutality had incurred more enmity than grace, and the lands of White Falls were highly valued among the bachelor lords of Taranith. Soon, Lady Mara found herself in a battle to maintain her family’s heritage and lands amid a storm of greedy suitors and vengeful lords.

Unlike her husband, Lady Mara wielded her influence with grace and skill. Drawing on her intimate alliances with various factions amid Taranith society, she managed to stave off the parceling of her land long enough to petition the favor of Duke Fallon Grathmore. The nature of that alliance is unknown, even to Alonso, but it was a pivotal moment in the course of fortune.

With Grathmore’s name as a shield, Lady Mara was granted the breathing space to secure other alliances, currying favor cautiously and effectively until a fragile network of security began to emerge. It is believed that Mara offered subtle aid and support to diverse mercantile and political factions, whose influence was growing stronger through all levels of the commonwealth.

Regardless of the means, Lady Mara had secured her position as Matriarch of the Kerrigan name, and it was clear she had no intention of sharing that with anyone but her son. She drew heavily upon the scholars and Loremasters of the time, sparing no expense to ensure her son’s education and awareness of the land and culture he would soon inherit. Priests, artisans, merchant princes, scoundrels, and bards were all called to the lands of White Falls to broaden the mind of the young lord.

The years passed and Alonso never overcame the frailty of his birth. His mother never warned him of his weakness, for indeed she saw none. Her eyes always looked to spirit wrapped in the flesh and it was there that she turned her son’s eyes as well. Together, they looked upon the world as a vast network of philosophies and convictions, made manifest by those who chose to express them.

Mara was careful to instill a respect for life and freedom in her son, encouraging his questions but warning him against judgements. “When you judge,” she would tell him, “you kill with conclusion. Better to allow for the possibility of grace, than to deny all hope of it with a conviction.” Thus, Alonso learned to evaluate his world and the people in it through the lens of discernment, rather than the filter of dogma.

His developing awareness was put to the test when his favorite tutor, Balthazar of Seven Oaks, was revealed as a Changeling and carried away by the church inquisitors. His horror was compounded by the announcement that Balthazar would be publicly executed as “an unholy abomination.” Enraged by the declaration, Alonso demanded that his mother grant him his birthright so that he might conscript troops to rescue his beloved friend.

Mara, who was also stricken by Balthazar’s fate, denied Alonso, saying that he would be declared Count of White Falls on his 18th birthday, two years hence. There followed a furious argument, which concluded two days later when Mara presented her son with a small chest full of gold. “Do with this as you will, my son,” she said. “I will not grant you your wish, but I will not deny you your right to choose your path, either.”

Silently, Alonso took the offering and left White Falls. With the guidance of an aged and sympathetic Captain in the Taranith military, he hired a cadre of mercenaries and planned the daring rescue of Balthazar. The mercenaries did their job well but were unprepared for the tenacious fury of the church’s warriors. Balthazar was indeed rescued, but half the mercenary troop was slaughtered, and several more were captured and would be interrogated.

Alonso presented himself to his rescued tutor, anticipating praise and gratitude. What he received instead was blistering tirade. “Young fool!” Balthazar bellowed in the secluded camp of the surviving mercenaries. “How dare you soak my name in blood! Do you realize what you’ve done, what a horrible beast you have unleashed in my name? Tell me, oh learned rescuer of old men... what do you think will happen next, hm? Will the Church smile and shrug and give me their blessing? Will those captured warriors silently bear the torture that is even now being visited upon them? Will the name of Kerrigan be spared from the fury of God?”

Alonso was stunned and overwhelmed by the revelation of his actions. He defended himself, but in the face of his friend’s righteous fury his arguments were empty and hollow in his mouth. Slowly the enormity of his deeds became clear, along with terror of the repercussions that would surely follow. Overcome by fear and despair he fled the camp, ignoring the suddenly concerned cries of Balthazar.

He fled to a nearby village, arriving pale and wheezing. A compassionate farmer who discovered the young lord wandering in a daze through his fields took him in. Ignorant of his identity, the farmer laid the trembling youth in his bed. Immediately, Alonso fell into an exhausted and dreamless sleep.

He awoke with moonlight filling his eyes and a thunderous banging in his ears. It took him a moment to realize the pounding was from below... a beating of heavy fists on a door. Dimly, the recent events cleared themselves of his mind’s fatigue and again fear clutched him. He listened at the door as church warriors interrogated the farmer regarding the whereabouts of Balthazar. Protesting his ignorance, the farmer was pushed aside as the churchmen searched his small home.

Alonso was frightened beyond all guile as a warrior thrust open the door to his room and demanded his name. His answer spilled out before he could think and he braced himself for violent hands to be laid upon him. When the warrior grunted and turned away, fear was mixed with confusion in the young lord’s heart.

Soon the men left to continue their search elsewhere and the farmer entered the room cautiously. He approached Alonso - who had collapsed upon the bed – with deference and respect. After a long silence Alonso acknowledged the man and they spoke at length. The farmer had heard Alonso identify himself to the warrior and was overwhelmed to have the heir of White Falls collapsed and bedraggled in his home. Alonso was reticent to speak and asked only of current events.

He learned to his surprise that he had slept for three days. In that time an aged Captain of the Taranith military had been captured and confessed to engineering a blasphemous attack against the Church. He had been executed for the church equivalent of treason that very morning. Of Balthazar or the affairs of White Falls the farmer knew nothing. Alonso thanked the man and asked to be left alone.

A Captain had confessed? What Captain was this? Unless... but surely that old warrior who had guided him to the mercenaries would not have claimed responsibility... would he? There was only one way to find out. Thanking the farmer for his kindness with words and gold, Alonso left to return to White Falls.

He arrived safely and was escorted to his mother. She looked thin and frail in Alonso’s eyes and he could see she had been crying. She rose quietly as he entered and a long horrible silence stretched between them. Then, the Lady Mara opened her arms and Alonso feel into them with tears.

It was revealed that the Captain had sent word to Mara when Alonso had contacted him. She counseled the old warrior to follow his heart, that she had no command or desire in this matter and only wished to see her son safely through this crisis. Apparently the Captain had decided his course and had instructed the mercenaries to name him as the conspirator should something go wrong.

“But why, mother?” agonized Alonso. “These events were initiated by me, by my choice. Why have so many suffered and shielded me from the retribution I deserve?”

“So you have judged yourself guilty, have you?” was his mother’s response. “And how do you judge the Captain? And Balthazar? And the mercenaries who died on your command? How shall they be judged in your eyes? If you believe yourself to be guilty, then turn yourself in.”

“Turn mysel...” Alonso was shocked at the suggestion. “Mother, you can’t mean it!”

“Stop behaving like a child, Alonso,” Mara snapped. “You deny everything you’ve worked to achieve when you whine like that. You are not Count of White Falls yet, but you have power whether you acknowledge it or not. Go and confess, you have my blessing if it will ease your sense of justice. But will not think first, boy? Will you not at least consider what we have spoken of regarding judgement?

“Confess and the House of Kerrigan falls. So be it. I would place our entire ancestry upon your right to make that choice and I would bless you for it.... I swear on my love that I would Alonso. You made a choice to rescue Balthazar and now you must own that choice. I made a choice to assist you and I too must own that. The Captain and the mercenaries, even the farmer... each of them chose and each of them must own those choices.

“Do you think any of us was forced or coerced? Was anyone commanded in this entire affair? No, save perhaps Balthazar and his choice was made a long time ago when he learned of his Changeling status. He chose to remain and pursue his life in spite of the dangers that choice implied. So he too chose and owned that choice.”

“So what is to be done,” whispered Alonso miserably.

“Well,” sighed Mara, “The Captain and mercenaries are beyond choosing now... they have gone to the Hall of Death. Balthazar I expect will flee into hiding, perhaps to be caught or live on. I have several audiences to grant in the morning and a household to run. And you... what will you do?”

“Am I not to be punished?”

“By me? Whatever for? Remember, I chose to let you chose. I could have had you locked up, you know. In my allowing I must also accept the outcome... otherwise I’m a hypocrite. As for the Church, you’ve already expressed your contempt for their justice in your action to free Balthazar, so surely you will not accept their harsh penance. No, Alonso... if there is to be punishment, it will come from you and you alone, my son.”

“But surely, something...” Alonso fell silent in grim confusion.

After a moment, Mara put her arm around him. “No, my son... nothing MUST happen. Nothing MUST be done. Only in the eyes of Judgement are such things so. Judgement denies freedom, denies choice. So you must choose if you will live your life in terms of ‘must be’ or in terms of ‘can be’. You need never decide, of course... but then in doing so, you have chosen anyway. You will have chosen not to choose.”

And with that she kissed her son on the forehead and left the room.

Alonso achieved his majority and was named Count of White Falls. He thus far has lived a rich and full life, attaining the rank of Loremaster in the eyes of his peers. When his mother died, he held her hand and wept at her parting. He has had many loves, made a few enemies, achieved wondrous successes and abysmal failures.

But through it all, he remembers the choice he made that night, alone in the hall of his ancestors.

© copyright 2000 David Robison
All Rights Reserved