“What?” Nath exclaimed.
Every one of the judges raised their left hand. The crowd on both sides let out a hearty cheer.
“This is insanity!”
“Nath, be quiet. Your outbursts are not helping your case,” Laylana said.
“Your lack of an outburst isn’t doing anything for me either, Laylana. This is outrageous!”
Lindor pounded the marble ball like a hammer on the stone table. “Silence! Silence!”
The people cooled.
“Anlee, make your case.”
“Thank you, Judge Lindor.” Anlee motioned to an elven soldier wearing an almond-shaped helmet on his head. He marched forward with a bow in his hand. It wasn’t any ordinary bow. It was an exceptional one. She took the bow and held it up for all to see. “This is the murder weapon, which is more fondly known to the accused as Akron.”
“Ooh!” said everyone in the audience.
The soldier also handed her a quiver filled with arrows and two separate arrows that were not inside the quiver. Anlee set the bow on the stone table and the quiver beside it. She kept the two arrows in her hands. Raising them high, she said, “The arrows that pierced the hearts of Laedorn and Uurluuk!”
“Boo!” said the people. The outcries were angry.
Lindor banged the stone. “Silence! Silence!”
Anlee respectfully set one arrow down. She pointed the other one at Nath Dragon. “Witnesses—and there were many—saw a man fitting Nath Dragon’s unique description firing these arrows, unprovoked, into the very hearts of our leaders.” She reached over and caressed the finely carved elven ash wood of the bow. “And the most sickening thing is that this weapon—a gift from the elves to Nath Dragon—was used against them in a dark twist of fate.”
“I did no such thing!” Nath said with his head stuffed between the bars. “Haven’t you ever heard of an imposter?”
“Silence, Nath,” Laylana said in a warning. “I can handle this.”
“Can you?”
Laylana walked away and approached the table. “Judge Lindor, may I speak?”
“Anlee, is your opening statement concluded?”
With a quick look at Nath, she said, “That will do.”
Nath fought the urge to pull his hair out. He’d witnessed court judgments before in Nalzambor among many of the races. But he’d never seen a court that was so informal.
This is a joke. I have a bad defender, addled judges, and even my friends’ minds are elsewhere. They should be going after Lotuus. She’s behind all this.
Laylana began her opening statement, circling the table. Her eyes slid back and forth between the judges and the weapons as she spoke. “Judges, we certainly have a tragedy in the loss of our invaluable leadership. But we have something else as well. Mystery! Nath Dragon has always been a friend of the elves and the dwarves. He has been admired by them. What we have before us is the instrument, the weapon Akron. What we don’t have is motive.” Her fingers dusted over the table. “Why would Nath Dragon do something so uncharacteristic? To what gain? But by the end of this trial, I assure all of you that in your heart you will know Nath Dragon is not guilty of this crime. Somebody else is.”
The elven judges beside Lindor nodded. Nath found himself nodding as well. The tightness in his chest eased.
Maybe Laylana isn’t so affected as I thought.
“Any other remarks from either one of you?” Lindor asked.
The elven women shook their heads.
“Ah, proceed then,” the judge said with a yawn.
Laylana backed away and stood near Nath.
“You did well,” he said under his breath.
“I can get you through this. Trust me.” She gave him a nod.
Anlee approached the stone table. Using her hands and a mouthful of confidence, she made her case. With a finger up, she said, “Fact: Laedorn and Uurluuk are dead. Fact: Witnesses say a man fitting Nath Dragon’s description slew Laedorn and Uurluuk. Fact: The weapon Akron was described at both scenes and retrieved by the dwarves when the assassin fled. Fact: There isn’t a description of any other suspect.” She turned her back on the judges and faced Nath. “There is an old saying that goes, ‘If it looks like a unicorn, it’s a unicorn.’ Look at Nath Dragon, those scaly arms, that flame-red hair, and those golden eyes. There’s no mistaking Nath Dragon for anyone else but Nath Dragon.”
“Whoa,” Laylana said back to Nath, “that was really good.”
All of the judges behind the bench were nodding. With a dry throat, Nath replied, “Yes it was.”
CHAPTER 34
The first witness that Anlee called forward was the dwarven soldier Piigliin. Still in armor, he stood a full head shorter than Anlee. Nath couldn’t make out the dwarf’s eyes from behind all the hair. The only skin he could see on the dwarf was his turned-up nose. He listened to the dwarf’s convincing story after Anlee asked him what happened.
“I was part of Uurluuk’s escort—not that there was need for such a thing in Morgdon, until now at least, but it has always been customary.” Piigliin teetered back and forth on his feet. “So we marched as we always do to the square to have our fill at the Festival of Meads and Meats. We have those at the beginning of every changing season. We’d taken our places at the table when a wooly feeling went right up my beard.” He crawled his stubby fingers up his beard like a spider. “I took a gander in the spires, and there he was.”
“There who was? Can you show us?” Anlee asked.
Piigliin jabbed his finger at Nath. “I saw him, Nath Dragon. Plain as day because it was day. I was about to wave, thinking I’d offer a greeting. That’s when I noticed the bow. We’d just heard about the falling of Laedorn, but it hadn’t registered with me yet as to what was going on. By the time my wits caught on, it was too late. Nath Dragon pulled back the bowstring and fired. The arrow pierced the armor that covered Uurluuk’s chest. I’ll never forget that sound. Metal piercing metal. It was the sound of the world ending.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “Uurluuk died instantly, but he didn’t spill a drop of his mead. Like a statue, he held it right up to his lips. It was some fine mead.”
Nath rubbed his neck. He’d been around the dwarves plenty enough to know they weren’t liars. What Piigliin said he saw, Nath believed.
This isn’t good. If I’m convinced, how can the judges not be?
“Thank you, Piigliin,” Anlee said, patting his shoulder. “I don’t have any other questions for this witness.”
Lindor lifted his chin up from his chest, blinked his eyes, and said, “Yes, yes, any questions from the defender?”
“A few,” Laylana said. “Piigliin, how far away from the assassin were you when you saw him, her, or it?”
“Objection! The defender is misleading in her statement. The assassin is clearly a man,” Anlee said.
“And we know this how?” Laylana argued. “My own investigations have revealed that no one was closer to the assassin than a good fifty feet.”
“Overruled,” Lindor said. “Please continue.”
“Piigliin, how far from the assassin were you when that infamous shot was made?”
With a shrug of his shoulders that rattled his chest armor, Piigliin replied, “I’m certain it was fifty-seven yards. I’m good with distances. Just ask Glenwar or any of my kin.”
“I see. Fifty-seven yards is a fair distance.” Laylana walked away and up into the stands. Nearing the top, she said at the top of her voice, “About this far?”
“Close,” he yelled back.
“Interesting.” Looking right at him, she said, “Can you tell me what color my eyes are?”
He leaned forward. So did the judges. Piigliin’s features squirmed under his hair. Finally, he pushed his bangs up, revealing his brow and his own eyes, and said, “Blue.”
Laylana marched back down the steps, stood in the center of the courtyard for all to see, and said, “Clearly they are green, yet you say you saw golden eyes. You couldn’t have seen that.”
“Those golden eyes are bright. No one can forget them.”
“I believe you made an assumption. I argue that you didn’t even see scales—black arms, yes, but no scales. The hair, well, I’ll give you that, but anyone can wear a wig. After all, we know that assassins are masters of disguise, correct?”
With a grunt, Piigliin said, “I suppose. But I know it was him.”
“Or you hope it was him.”
Stamping his feet, Piigliin yelled, “There must be justice for Uurluuk!”
“Aye!” the dwarves yelled.
Lindor banged the round gavel on the stone table. “Order! Order! This festival-like behavior is for beyond the walls. There is no place for it within this courtyard!”
Nath stood back in the center of his cage, hanging on every word that was said.
Anlee brought forward witness after witness, dwarves and elves alike. Each of them recounted the same believable story, but when it came to the details, Laylana picked them apart. Witness by witness, she imparted doubt about what they had seen.
As it turned out, Laylana was right. Not one single witness had been closer to the assassin than a good fifty feet. The only caveat was that when the dwarves gave chase, the bow and quiver had been left behind.
When the last witness departed, Lindor stood up, pounded the stone on the table, and said, “Let’s take a brief recess.”
Laylana made her way over to Nath’s cage. “How do you think I’m doing?”
“Truly great. I’m thankful.”
“Well, we have a long way to go, but I might be able to turn the tide when I call your friends to testify.”
“I just hope they’ve regained their wits by then,” Nath said, referring to Ben and Brenwar. Both of them had departed. “Something has gotten into them, Laylana. I swear, you have to listen to me. Fairy Empress Lotuus is here.”
“Nath, I have people looking into it.”
“Who?”
“People. Now keep silent while I work. The quieter you are, the better I do.”
The judges who had briefly departed returned to their chairs. They whispered to one another and made quick unsettling glances at Nath.
Feeling the tingling in his fingertips, he said, “I will.”
CHAPTER 35
As the people refilled the empty seats in the stands, Laylana got caught up in a conversation with the judges and Anlee. Nath overheard every word of it. Anlee made the case that Bayzog, Sasha, Rerry, and Samaz could not be called as witnesses since they were incarcerated for conspiring to free Nath. Laylana made the case that neither Nath nor his imprisoned friends had been found guilty of anything, hence they could witness.
Among themselves, led by Lindor, the judges deliberated on the argument. They returned to their seats, and Lindor quickly said, “No, the witnesses brought to our attention will not be allowed to testify.”
With her brows knitted together and her cheeks turning red, Laylana stormed over to Nath and said, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see that coming. You’re right, Nath. Something is amiss, but stand with me.”
“I am. Do your best.”
Lindor banged the marble gavel. “Defender, call your first witness.”
Laylana motioned to the first row of the dwarven stands and said, “I call Morgdon’s very own Brenwar Bolderguild.”
Applause erupted among the dwarves when Brenwar stood up, waving his skeleton hand. His face almost made a smile.
That’s unsettling.
“Brenwar,” Laylana began, “you are on the record stating that during the time of the assassination, you were with the accused. Can you explain?”
“I’d be glad to.” Casually, he clawed through his beard. “We were fighting our way out of Urslay, the giants’ home, in the windy mountains with snows deeper than a bugbear’s thighs. We’d been corralled by the titan leader himself, who was hosted in an earth giant’s body. Death swarmed around us. Mortuun and I took down giant after giant, but there came that moment when the tides that fill the graves swept in. Somehow, on Nath’s command, his sword Fang transported us to the Elven Field of Dreams. It was there that we encountered the wilder elf Slavan and the guardians. He informed us of the assassination.” Brenwar shook his head. “The accusation is impossible. I can’t explain how, but we found that we’d traveled forward in time, one year to the day.”
“I see. I admit that is a unique story, but far from impossible.” Laylana reached under the stone table and pulled out some wooden crates. She took out a pair of leather-bound tomes and held them up. “These are elven histories. Tales from our past. There are many examples of elven heroes and enemies moving through time that we are all well aware of. I’d like you to admit that these are evidence.”
With a bored look, Lindor gave a wave of consent.
Continuing, Laylana said, “Brenwar, you’ve traveled with Nath Dragon for over a century. Can you share an example of him showing ill will toward the elves or the dwarves?”
“I cannot say that I ever have known him to, but he does have a hard time listening to one particular dwarf from time to time.”
Oh please, Brenwar, are you lecturing me from the courtyard now? At least he seems to be himself.
“I see,” Laylana agreed. “But there is no ill will that you know of between Nath Dragon and the dwarves or the elves?”
“No.”
“Good. Now, Brenwar, can you tell me about a creature called Gorlee the chameleon?”
“Now that’s an odd bird if there ever was one. He can put on the likeness of any person in this court. I’ve even seen him change—more than once—with my own eyes.”
“So, what you are telling me is that this chameleon can even change into the likes of Nath Dragon.”
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
Laylana gave a quick smile to the judges. “No further questions.”
“Er, Anlee, do you care to cross-examine?”
Anlee pushed her sleeves up past her elbows, walked in front of Brenwar, and said, “I would, your honor. Brenwar Bolderguild, have you ever seen Nath Dragon kill anyone in anger?”
“Objection!” Laylana shouted out. “She’s attempting to mislead the judges about the witness.”
In a smooth reply, Anlee said, “I’m merely painting a picture of the true nature of the accused.”
“I’ll allow it,” Lindor said.
Huffing, Laylana briskly walked up to Nath and said, “She’s a snake.”
“I’ll ask the question again. Brenwar Bolderguild, have you ever seen Nath Dragon kill anyone in anger?”
Brenwar replied with uncharacteristic casualness. “Oh, lots of times. Back when he was younger, he had a really bad temper. A real hothead. That’s a big part of the reason I got stuck with him. He needed that temper tempered.”
“And this is the truth?”
Brenwar’s chest puffed up when he said in a growl, “Dwarves don’t lie.”
“So, Nath Dragon is a killer?”
“Regarding the orcs and the rest of that foul brood, I’d certainly say yes. But we dwarves don’t really count the orcs as people. Killing them is the equivalent of cutting down briars.”
“Nonetheless, he’s good at killing things?”
“He’s Nath Dragon, the most renowned warrior in the land. It goes without saying that he is.”
Nath felt a slight out-of-body experience. Part of him took what Brenwar said as a compliment. The other part began to sink back into the quagmire of his troublesome past. What got him was that he had killed in anger. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
No matter how fast you run, you can never outrun yourself.
Anlee hammered at Brenwar with more about Nath’s personal history. By the time she finished, Nath felt like he’d been drummed on by a pair of ogres, the things she asked were so deep and personal.
How does she know all this?
He noticed some elven maidens offering drinks in the stands. One of them, clad in clothing that was unusually re
vealing, refilled the judges’ cups. It wasn’t Lotuus, but this one’s toes didn’t touch the ground either.
I smell the stink of Lotuus’s treachery.
CHAPTER 36
Next, Ben was called in front of the judges by Laylana. He walked over with a bit of a limp.
“Ben, can you tell us how you came to be in possession of the bow Akron?” she asked.
“Certainly. Ever since I met Dragon, er, Nath Dragon, I’ve been fascinated with the bow. I was just a farm boy when we met all those years ago. Well, as time passed, and with a lot of pleading on my part, Nath let me shoot Akron. I guess you could say I earned his trust.” He tugged at his shirt collar with his finger. “So, over time, I used Akron many times during our adventures. As a matter of fact, he let me have the fine weapon when I returned to Quintuklen after the last Dragon War.”
Pacing with her hands behind her back, Laylana said, “I see. So, it’s been a very long time since Nath Dragon has been in possession of Akron.”
“A very long time. I’m not going to lie, I took a great deal of pride in keeping the weapon with me. It was an honor.”
“Did Nath give it to you?”
Ben shook his head. “That was never the understanding. I think Nath allowed me to use it to help protect others in my home city, Quintuklen. My family too.” He gave Nath a little wave. “I’m grateful.”
“So, tell us what happened to Akron. When and how did it end up missing?”
With a long expression, Ben said, “I can’t say when or how exactly, and that’s hard for me to admit. But over a year ago, we battled the wurmers just outside of Quintuklen. That was the last time I used it. Nath departed after that, and I held onto Akron. I secured the bow in my home, in a locking chest. I’d check it every month or so.”
“And when did you notice it missing?”
“Several months ago.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No, I was embarrassed. It wasn’t until I met with Bayzog that I mentioned it again. That’s when I found out about the assassinations.” With a guilty look at Nath, Ben added, “If anyone should be accused, it should be me. I didn’t do it, of course, but I know Nath didn’t either.”
Trial of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 6 of 10) (Tail of the Dragon 7) Page 11