Sera ran her fingers along the tabletop, leaving a trail of smudges on the highly polished, black wood surface. She surreptitiously glanced around to see if anyone had taken notice of her minor indiscretion, and wiped the evidence clean using the edge of her conjugal cloth. A low chuckle resounded in her ear and she turned her head in time to see Jerad’s amused grin.
"I used to splotch this table with my sticky little fingers when I was a child." His eyes twinkled as he fondly recalled the memory. A puckish smirk crossed his face. "Too much temptation for a boy who reveled in mud frolicking."
Jerad flattened his palm against the surface. When he lifted it, he left behind a perfectly shaped handprint.
"A small token for the chamber maid I tormented with my leavings. She is an old woman now, but I am sure she will be endearingly ruffled by my little gift."
"You are quite the mischief maker husband." Sera smiled. She wished she had known him as the impish boy he apparently used to be.
Jerad appraised her with genuine warmth. It was the first time she referred to him as husband, and he liked the sound of it on her lips--lips he now bent toward to brush with his own.
Smacksmacksmack.
Phoebe’s lips were puckered and she was making kissing sounds in his direction.
She looked like a fish.
Jerad reached around Sera’s shoulder and lightly smacked the top of Phoebe’s head in response to her teasing. "Button it up sapling."
Phoebe stuck her tongue out at him.
Sera quietly laughed.
"Tsk, tsk my begats, must I send you to your chambers without supper?" Shegarth, who had just entered the chamber, did not miss the sibling exchange. There was immense affection in his countenance as he gazed upon his children. Shegarth placed a kiss on Phoebe’s cheek and moved behind Sera. He set a large, friendly hand atop of her shoulder and offered an accepting nod as he passed by. Sera nodded timidly in return. She remembered his presence in the Grandstage the luna of her arrival. Now, with less commotion surrounding her, she saw the evidence of paternity in his character. His features, his stature, the way he walked, were so obviously akin to Jerad, save the salt and pepper hair.
"Father." Jerad stood and inclined his head toward his sire. The two men embraced briefly.
Shegarth took his seat at the end of the table, nodding and greeting the arriving guests. The table would be full this luna. Along with the members of the Council, kindred and close friends were present. In two rises Jerad and Sera would receive their Marks of Permanence. By invitation, these guests had come to witness the event.
"Welcome everyone." The Archon stood and raised his goblet.
He turned to where Jerad and Sera were sitting. "And welcome to my daughter of the Mark, consort of my son, Jerad."
He tapped the base of his cup twice on the table in a congratulatory toast, and took a sip. The rest of the guests did the same. Sera shifted slightly at being the center of attention once again, but she accepted the acknowledgement graciously with a slight bow of her head.
A memory surfaced. Sera turned to Jerad, and smiled brightly. "Let me show you how it is done where I come from."
She raised her goblet and Jerad followed her lead. There was the tiny chime of crystal touching crystal as she tapped the rim of her glass to his. Sera entwined her arm around Jerad’s bent arm, and brought the cup to her lips. She took a sip. Jerad peered at her over the rim of his own cup as he drank, enjoying the intimacy of the Gaian practice.
"I think I much like your way better," Jerad set his goblet onto the table, and then he frowned. "Though I am not sure I wish for you to share this gesture with others."
…men.
"Ochi, Jerad. Only with you." Sera smiled. There was a sultry flicker in her eyes.
She slowly licked her lips. Her expression hinted sensual promise. Jerad hooked a finger under her chin and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. Sera tentatively drew the tip of it into her mouth and then coyly lowered her lashes, somewhat surprised by her own playful behavior. Jerad beamed a dazzling, white smile, taking thorough pleasure in her unrestrained dalliance, meant solely for him.
His eyes darted around the table. The guests were quietly engaged in their own discussions and paid them no heed. He growled from low in his throat, wishing they were alone.
The platters arrived with a variety of steaming foods and cold dishes. They were arranged along the length of the table, and the guests began to serve themselves, passing the plates when they had taken their fill.
Sera nibbled at her food, much of it unidentifiable by shape and color, but tasty to the palate nonetheless. She attempted to listen to the casual conversations, but her thoughts kept drifting to the Argilos’ journal. The looming prickle of finality that the entries seemed to imply unsettled her. She was pulled from her thoughts by a sudden barrage of questions directed her way.
"Sera, what Zone do you call home?"
"I… uh," her mouth dropped open, but what could she say?
"What bloodline Origin do you claim?"
"How came you into the company of the Noble Jerad?"
Sera’s head bounced from face to face.
"Hush!" Jerad intervened. "As you all well know, my wife has had a trying few rises."
"Is she ill?" the woman across from her remarked as she stared at Sera’s bewildered expression.
"Of sorts, Rhondia." Jerad placed a reassuring arm around Sera’s shoulder. "A blow to her head has left her vacant of her memories."
"What a terrible thing!" Rhondia replied. The other guests murmured their agreement.
Great. Now she was being pitied.
Sera could not have felt more pathetic, but much to her relief the subject was quickly forgotten as the guests began to converse on new topics.
The supper was nearly finished and the dishware was being cleared. Guests began rising from their chairs bidding their thanks to Shegarth. The room emptied until all that remained were the Magistrate members, Sera and Phoebe.
Sera turned to Phoebe. "Where did everyone go?"
"To find their amusements." Phoebe looked pensive for a moment, then she grew cheerful. "I will show you my chamber."
Phoebe looked to Jerad and he nodded his approval. He took Sera’s hand and gently patted it. "The Magistrate Council has orders of business to attend to. I am sure you will find it tedious. I will find you when we have finished.
An attendant entered the room and placed a small stack of papers in front of Shegarth. The Chief Magistrate shuffled through the documents and began passing them to other Council members.
Phoebe yanked Sera from her chair, pulled her across the room and out of the room. Sera spared Jerad a quick glance before Phoebe closed the arched, wooden double doors. Phoebe took Sera’s hand and began to run with her. Sera dug in her heels. She did not want to run through the halls like a frolicking youth.
She was much too old for that!
Disappointed, Phoebe slowed her pace.
She led Sera through a maze of hallways until Sera knew she was hopelessly lost. Phoebe finally halted near a guard who stood in front of a single doorway. The guard raised a fist, slapped it to the opposite shoulder and bowed his head. He then removed a key from his belt and slipped it into the door’s keyhole. With a click he pushed the door open for them.
Sera peered into the cavity, but all she could see was the beginnings of a twisted staircase that disappeared around a curved wall.
Phoebe clasped Sera’s hand once again and they began to ascend. After what seemed like endless upward spiraling, it finally dawned on Sera that they were climbing to the top of a tower. She questioned Phoebe and indeed it was the tallest tower in the castle--the very same one that caught Sera’s eye outside of the castle.
Sera was a bit winded when they finally reached the door at the top. Phoebe in all her youthfulness was barely out of breath. Phoebe opened the door and pulled Sera inside.
My goodness! Sera’s eyes widened.
The Inceptive
Chancellor Rhondia, a Noble of the First Corridor, waited until the doors were closed before speaking. "The Noble Chancellor Aryan will not present himself this luna?"
"He has given his pardon for this assembly." Shegarth answered impassively. He made no further comment, but knew it was futile to hope there would be no issue with the Challenge that occurred for the Rite of the Cloak.
"There is rumor that Aryan will seek requital for Sondra’s death." This statement came from the Inceptive Chancellor Jason, who was seated at the opposite end of the table.
"It is more than rumor Chancellor. I spoke with him last luna," Chief Chancellor Fremi, a female of the Second Corridor, chimed in. "His clan pressures him."
"I heard as much Fremi." Jason agreed. "My consort is friend to Ezra, and they spoke earlier this rise. But I am told that Aryan struggles with his anger, his loyalty to our Noble Jerad, and loyalty to his kinfolk."
Shegarth watched through the corner of his eye as Jerad’s disposition visibly stiffened. "What penalty do they seek?"
"His clan seeks Sera’s servitude in their house for her remaining term cycles."
Jerad clenched his fists. Never.
"They would own her like a slave?" Shegarth straightened and raised an eyebrow.
"Ah Archon, slave is such a harsh word." Rhondia responded to his look of surprise. "After all we do not adhere to bondage as do some Zones. Ochi, she should be allowed to move about freely, perhaps even continue to dwell in the house of Jerad, but she would be indentured to Aryan’s clan house."
"I do not find the request much severe considering they have lost one of their own." Fremi added.
"Would you agree to those terms, Jerad?" Shegarth looked at his son. All heads turned to Jerad and the Council silently awaited his response.
"Ochi. I will not allow her to become a common thrall." Jerad did not attempt to hide the irritation in his voice.
Shegarth was not surprised by his son’s reaction. Jerad was never one to compromise his convictions and his devotion to Sera was acutely obvious. As Chief Magistrate however, it was Shegarth’s obligation to oversee Council deliberations and his duty to remain unbiased, despite the fact that it was his son who was the focus of this charge. Additionally, it was preferable to settle disputes civilly rather than through the Challenge, and in this particular case, a Challenge that would most certainly bring no contentment to all involved. Sondra was dead, and nothing could amend that circumstance.
"The Magistrate could urge them to consider a lesser punishment, Jerad, one that is shall I say, of a less lengthy in term." Shegarth stood as he presented his appeal. "Would the Magistrate consent to a compromise in punishment if the clan approves?"
There were several nods of agreement. It was a reasonable proposal.
"You misunderstand Council members," Jason interrupted. "Servitude is only their first request. They wish the marriage bond be severed as well."
Jerad jerked from his chair nearly toppling it. "By what reason!"
"They claim a tainted bloodline."
"What is it of their concern as to the bloodline from which she was sired?"
Shegarth held up a hand and commanded them to hush. He ordered his attendants to leave the chamber, and then turned to the six Proletariat representatives of the common citizens. He bowed his head.
"I beg for your pardon and mean no condescension to the people of our Zone. We will deal with the municipal grievances momentarily. For now I must ask you take your leave while we discuss this delicate matter further."
The Proletariat commoners conceded to his request and Shegarth escorted them to the door. He thanked them and apologized for the disruption, then soundly closed the door when they were gone from the chamber. He was relieved they gave no protest. It was essential that the forthcoming discussion be handled with the utmost discretion.
Shegarth returned to his place at the table and took his seat. He exhaled harshly as he rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to ease the knot that was forming there. He lifted his head and fixated on Jerad’s face.
"As Keeper of the Key, son…" He cleared his throat and rectified, "…Noble Chancellor, it is your duty as well as ours to ensure the pure bloodlines not be corrupted, less the Key fall into unsavory hands."
"She is at the least of a Noble house with an allegiance Zone, is she not?" Rhondia looked toward Jerad and awaited his answer.
Jerad did not respond, and he would not lie, though he was sorely tempted.
"We realize that a bond between you and the female has transpired, but we must question if your enchantment with her has misted your logic."
Jerad bit back the anger that the accusation caused. Losing his temper would resolve nothing. He drew a deep breath and reined control over his precarious emotions. "I assure the Council that my judgment in regard to Sera is perfectly coherent."
"Your allusive behavior causes suspicion, Noble. If you make her Origin clear to us," Jason urged. "We might deny the demand to annul the bond."
Jerad slashed his hand through the air as he infused the Council with a look of indignation. "Her status was proclaimed with the handling of my sword."
Shegarth placed a firm hand on Jerad’s forearm. In want to settle this without bloodshed, he beseeched his son. "Sera’s identity could change this entire circumstance."
Shegarth knew the truth. He and Jerad had spoken in length about it. There was no doubt in his mind that Sera was exactly who Jerad claimed her to be. Though he disagreed, Shegarth fully understood Jerad’s refusal to enlighten the Magistrate Council. Their carelessness with the two Gaians had ended tragically, and Jerad would not risk Sera’s life.
Jerad glared at his sire, concern betrayed in his unblinking eyes. He subtly shook his head from side to side. Shegarth tipped his head in return, confirming that he would respect Jerad’s silence.
Jerad turned to address the assembly. "Sera’s status exceeds that of every Noble in this chamber and in that I ask you to take heed. Her loyalty lies where it should and not with that of our enemies."
The Noble Chancellor Larz, who had remained quiet during the discourse, leaned forward to speak. "Council, we talk of punishment and of descent, but we have yet to determine if a crime has indeed been committed."
"An unjustifiable death has occurred by a fatal blow, purposefully delivered," Fremi said.
"Nai." Jason rose from his chair and with his palms raised upward, he gazed around the table. "Such is forbidden in a simple Challenge for the Rite of the Cloak. It is as such according to our laws. Can one here deny this?"
Silence washed over the chamber. Jerad gritted his teeth and muttered an oath. Even he could not refute their laws.
"Then we do concur that punishment must be rendered."
"The fault lies with Sondra!" Jerad roared before another word could be spoken. "She should have called for a halt!"
"Someone most certainly should have called for a halt," Larz added with a near sarcastic tone. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
Murmurs erupted from the Nobles around the table, and the volume of their voices quickly increased as they began to argue among themselves.
"Order!" Shegarth bellowed.
All conversation ceased.
"I agree a halt should have been called, but I plead with the Magistrate to consider the circumstances. Had Sera called a halt, she would have relinquished Jerad’s cloak. If Jerad had called a halt, he would have relinquished his claim to Sera. Additionally, we have questioned the numerous witnesses present in the Grandhouse that luna, and they all agree that Sondra had obvious intent to kill Sera. Had I foreseen the outcome of the Challenge, I would have called a halt myself and left the decision of victory to the Council."
"My honorable Nobles, in defense of the Archon’s words, I was present in the Grandstage and the deed had been done before any of us had the clarity of mind to call a halt," Rhondia defended, petitioning the Council for leniency.
"Regardless," Fremi looked at Rhondia to disp
ute her claim. "Sera should have withdrawn her blade. She should have cried a victory."
"It was clearly and act of censurable misconduct," Jason agreed.
Shegarth drew his brows together. "Sondra would have retaliated so say the witnesses. Sera’s only recourse would have been to turn and run. There is no honor in that."
Larz gave pensive consideration to the Council’s discussion before adding his own thoughts. "Nai, that is true Archon, but in doing so it would have given enough space in time to call a halt."
"Sera could not have possibly known that." Jerad argued. "She is not of our Zone."
"Ignorance of our laws is no excuse, Jerad. It should have been explained to her."
Jason moved away from his place at the table and walked its length until he was alongside Shegarth‘s chair. He nodded to the Chief Councilor, before turning to face the Magistrate Council. "Failure to adhere to the Zone’s dictates resulting in an unlawful death shall be declared as the crime. Are all agreed?"
A mutual response of Nai was voiced by all members, with the exception of Shegarth, Rhondia and Jerad.
Rhondia pursed her lips as her eyes darted between Jerad and Shegarth. Her expression was apologetic. Her shoulders slumped and she uttered her Nai as well.
Jerad turned helplessly to his sire. "Father…"
"My hand will be forced with this my son. Will you accept any compromise, Chancellor?" Shegarth’s tone was sympathetic and he shared his son’s distress. The Council appeared settled on their decision.
Jerad’s chest heaved. The tempo of his breathing quickened as a burgeoning outrage assailed him.
Restraint be damned!
He would kill for Sera if forced to.
Jerad unleashed his anger. "Sera stays with me as she is. The bond will not be severed!" He slammed his fist against the table top.
"Aryan’s clan has the right of it to issue a Challenge, Noble Chancellor."
"Then the Challenge will be accepted." Jerad lowered himself to his chair. Anger radiated from his tense expression, as he responded to Jason‘s warning.
The matter was closed for now.
The Third Corridor Page 15