Short Story

It was the sort of evening when the stars danced across the sky and the moon shone a beautiful white light with more grace than ever.  It was also the sort of evening when crickets and owls remained silent and the great black cloak of night seemed more sinister than ever before.

The trees, no longer whispering with the wind, cast long shadows over the Palace of West Hårtordar; as a prisoner, barely visible in the dark autumn evening, was led out of it. The man leading him was dressed in a dark hooded cloak, his features invisible to any passing animal. The two men were silent as they walked into the woods. More men followed behind them. One of the people following was holding an axe. He handed it to the one in front. It was now night and the sky had blackened to the colour of burnt ebony. The men stood still.
"Alas, 'tis a shame I must die on this day," lamented the prisoner.
The man in front remained silent.
"I always thought I would die of old age. I was wrong," the prisoner exclaimed.
The man with the axe showed no pity or remorse; neither did the other men.
"I must tell you this now" said the prisoner. "I know you will not believe me, but I must say what I feel I must say."
The man with the axe spoke for the first time:
"Very well, then, but make it quick," he said.
The prisoner spoke again.
"I shall begin: it was not me who killed her, nor was it was the butler. I woke when I heard a rustling downstairs. When I looked it was not Marigold, as I had thought. When I reached the stairs, the door slammed. Every part of my mind shrunk back in terror. I walked down the stairs and saw that the urn and the money box were gone. I then saw her body on the ground. You know I loved her. I wouldn't kill her. I don't know who did, I swear."

At the end of his speech, the prisoner looked into each and every of the other men's eyes. They had been trained for most of their lives not to listen to these stories. All of their eyes remained hard and cold. All except for one: the one with the axe. No emotion could be detected in his face. He put down his axe.
"Go then," he said.
And the man who was no longer prisoner disappeared into the night.