“Charges?” Veovis laughed coldly, then tilted his head slightly. His eyes were hostile now. “I do not understand you, Master Jadaris. Of what precisely am I charged?”
“Of trading in illicit Ages. And of murder.”
The look of shock in Veovis’s face surprised Aitrus. For a moment Veovis seemed unable to speak, then he shook his head. “But this is ridiculous! I have done nothing.”
“We have the proof,” Jadaris said coldly. “But I am not your judge, Veovis. At least, not alone.”
Jadaris seemed to straighten, taking on his full authority, then spoke again.
“Guild Master Veovis, you will be taken from this place to the Guild Fortress of Irrat where you will be held until a date is set for your trial.”
“My trial?” Veovis’s expression was one of sheer disbelief.
Jadaris nodded, yet he seemed far from triumphant. “This is a sad day for the guilds, Lord Veovis. You have brought great shame upon us, and even greater shame upon your father.”
“But I have done nothing!”
Jadaris glared at him. “Nothing? You will be silent, Guild Master, or I shall have you gagged!”
Veovis blinked, astonished. His mouth opened, then snapped shut.
“Good,” Jadaris said curtly. “Now take him from here before I am tempted to do to him what he did to those poor boys.”
§
Aitrus returned home to find the blinds drawn, doctors hurrying to and fro. His mother, Tasera, greeted him in the hallway, her face gaunt, her eyes troubled. Gehn had worsened, it seemed, and almost died. It was she who had finally called in the healers, when all else seemed hopeless.
Aitrus went through to the nursery, fearing the worst. Anna was sitting beside the cot, clearly exhausted, staring down at the feverish child as he lay there like a waxwork doll, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. Nearby, a doctor spoke quietly, urgently to one of his colleagues, then, seeing Aitrus, came across.
“There’s little we can do,” he said sorrowfully. “We have tried several remedies, but the child seems unable to keep anything in his stomach. I fear it is up to the Maker now.”
Aitrus thanked the man, then went over and knelt beside Anna, resting his hand lightly on her knee.
“Ti’ana?...Ti’ana It’s Aitrus. I’m back.”
She turned her head slowly and looked down at him. “He’s dying, Aitrus. Our son is dying.”
The desolation in her face was unlike anything he had ever seen. “No,” he said softly. “He’ll come through.”
But she was not to be consoled. “You did not hear him, Aitrus. The sounds he made. Such awful, dreadful sounds. And the spasms. Twice I thought I’d lost him.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but he’s still here.”
He took her hands and clenched them, looking up into her face. “Won’t you fight for him, Ti’ana? Won’t you help our son survive?”
Anna closed her eyes, pained by his words. “I’ve tried, Aitrus. The Maker knows I’ve tried my best. But I am so tired now. So very, very tired.”
“Then rest, my love. It’s my turn now.”
Aitrus stood, then, bending down, lifted Gehn from the cot, holding him tightly, securely against his shoulder. The child whimpered a little, then settled against him. He was so light now; there was so very little of him. The lightest breeze would carry him off.
Aitrus shuddered, filled with an ineffable tenderness for his infant son. “Come now, little one,” he said softly as he carried him from the room. “Let us see what a little sunlight can do for you.”
§
Veovis looked up from the summary document and sighed. It was lies, every word of it, yet even he could see how convincing a case Aitrus had made against him. If the Five believed this—and why should they not?—then he would be found guilty, without a doubt.
Suahrnir. Suahrnir was the key, but Suahrnir could not be found.
Veovis’s own statement lay on the desk beside his elbow—six pages in his own hand. At best it seemed naïve, at worst a tissue of lies and excuses. He knew which his fellow guildsmen would think.
They had let him see the evidence against him; the books and documents and letters, all of it written, or so it appeared, in his hand. Good forgeries they were—the best he had ever seen—but forgeries all the same, for he had not written a single word of what they had shown him.
He had pointed the finger at Aitrus, but they had expected that. It was to be expected, after all. To “humor” him, and perhaps to mollify his father, they had even searched back in he guild records to see whether there might not be some earlier instance of such fraud, one that might be attributable to Aitrus, but there was nothing.
Aitrus was a clever one. None cleverer. He played the honest man. But Veovis knew better. He knew now what a snake Aitrus was.
He heard the cell door open behind him and turned to see a guard bring in a pile of clean clothes and place it on the bed in the far corner of the room. Another guard stood in the door, blocking it. The sight of it almost made him laugh, for it suggested that he might try to escape, and when did a D’ni Lord run from his fate?
Veovis turned back to the copy statement, then pushed it away from him. It was no use. There was no way he could answer this. It was like grasping at phantoms.
He even understood it, now that he had had time to reflect upon it.
How long had Aitrus prepared this? Since he had refused to countenance the wedding, no doubt.
Veovis stood and stretched. Was that all Aitrus wanted? To bring him down? Or was there more? Was there some further part he could not see?
Veovis crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, beside the pile of clothes. He felt weary now and in need of sleep. Too much had happened much too quickly.
He reached out and picked up the pile of clothes meaning to move it so that he could stretch out on the bed, but the pile was heavier than he expected. Strangely heavy, in fact. He put it down, then began to sort through it, his brows knitted.
There! Halfway down the pile his fingers closed on something hard. A book! A leather-covered Book! He drew it out and stared at it, amazed. There was no mistaking it—It was a Linking Book. He opened it. There, on the right-hand page, the tiny panel glowed invitingly.
It was a trap. It had to be, or a test of some kind. He closed the Book and set it down.
A trap. Of course it was.
But what if it was not. What if this was his father’s doing? Veovis stood, then closed his eyes, wracked by indecision. This was his chance to prove himself an honest man. If he handed in the Book…
He groaned, then sat once more. Who was he fooling? They would find him guilty whatever. The evidence was too strong against him. And what then? Two hundred years, he’d spend, trapped on some hideous, tiny island on a Prison Age, watched every second of the day and night.
The thought was unbearable. Opening the Book again, he placed his hand against the panel…and linked.
§
Lord R’hira stepped into the empty cell and looked about him. The Linking Book lay on the bed where Veovis had left it only a moment before. He stared at it, then shook his head. A while later he heard a shout from farther down the hallway—a curse that turned into a groan.
So now you know, R’hira thought sadly. And what will that knowledge do to you, Veovis?
The Book had linked to an enclosed room on a different Age, in which was a table. On that table was a second Linking Book and a tank of acid. It was a classic escape maneuver, and Veovis, naturally, had seen exactly what to do.
But that second Book linked right back to D’ni—to the interrogation cell at the end of the hallway, wherein sat Master Jadaris and his guards.
R’hira sighed. Had Veovis known it was a test? Or was this simply some final piece of arrogance on his part?
He turned. Rakeri was standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with the knowledge of what his son had done.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, but Rakeri shook
his head.
“Do what you must,” the old man said. “I wash my hands of him.”
§
Aitrus woke, not knowing where he was. It was bright, too bright to fully open his eyes.
Gemedet. I must be on Gemedet.
Squeezing his eyes shut again, he searched about him with his hand until his fingers closed upon his glasses. He pulled them on, then slowly opened his eyes again. The filters in the glass made the brightness bearable.
It was morning. Or maybe afternoon. How long had he slept?
Then he remembered.
“Gehn!”
He sat up, looking about him anxiously, then relaxed. Gehn lay not three feet away from him, swaddled in a blanket where Aitrus had laid him last night. He lay there silently, his tiny glasses shielding his eyes against the light that shone in a broad hand through the window just above them.
Aitrus shuffled across, then picked up his baby son, cuddling him for a moment, then putting a hand lightly to his brow.
The fever had passed.
Gehn stared back at him, curiously, his eyes placid, calm. D’ni eyes, for all the doctors said.
“You came through,” Aitrus said, smiling at him, proud suddenly of his son. “Look at you, there’s nothing of you, Gehn, yet you came through. You lived!”
There was a noise outside. Aitrus turned. Was it some forest animal, sniffing about the camp? Then he heard the soft hum of Anna’s voice and smiled.
He stood, carrying the child out to her. She was standing with her back to him, looking out across the valley and the mist-wreathed waterfall. For a moment he simply stood there, watching her, conscious of how the sunlight formed a shining wreath about her long, flowing hair, then he spoke.
“Ti’ana?”
She turned, smiling at him. “I wondered when you would wake.”
“Look,” he said, holding out Gehn to her. “The fever’s gone.”
“I know,” she said, coming across and taking Gehn from him. “I came in earlier and saw. I thought I’d let you both sleep.”
He looked up at the sky. The sun was sinking toward the west. “It’s late,” he said. “How long have we slept?”
“A full day and more,” she said, smiling broadly at him. “It clearly did you good.”
“Yes,” he agreed. Then, as if suddenly recalling something, he laughed. “You know, I had a dream last night.”
“A dream?” She looked at him, intrigued. “What kind of dream? A pleasant one I hope.”
He smiled. “Oh yes. I dreamed we walked the tunnels to the surface. You and I…and Gehn. And you took us to all of those places you have told me of in the past, even to Tadjinar itself.”
“And the Lodge?”
“Yes.” He nodded, staring out past her as if he really saw it. “I dreamed that we stayed there and that I sat there in the window with you, looking out across the desert. There was a full moon above us and the sky was full of stars. And Gehn…I could hear Gehn sleeping in the room behind us.”
“Maybe it will happen, one day.”
“You think so?”
She was quiet a moment, then, “I heard what happened…with Veovis.”
“Ah…” He nodded, then, “I do not know what to think, Ti’ana. The Veovis I knew would never have acted in such a fashion.”
“Yet people change.”
Aitrus looked directly at her. “Do they? I am not so sure, my love. What a man is, he is. Though Veovis is no friend, I would yet trust him above many who call themselves my friend. And do you forget…he brought you home that time.”
“It was but common courtesy.”
“Was it? And yet that same man is charged with callously murdering two guildsmen. Do you really think him capable of that?”
Anna looked down, troubled. “Of course…you have not heard, have you?”
“Heard what?” Aitrus asked.
“The Five Lords tested him. Secretly gave him a Linking Book, in his cell on Irrat. He took it and tried to escape. No honest man would do that, would they?”
Aitrus stared at her a moment, then looked down. “So it si true, after all.”
“It seems so.”
“And Lord Rakeri? How has he taken the news?”
“Badly,” Anna said, rocking Gehn gently. “It appears he has taken to his bed. Some say his is dying.”
Aitrus looked down, touched deeply by the news. “Then it is an ill day for D’ni,” he said quietly. “An ill day indeed.”
§
The narrow streets leading to the great Guild House were packed as the carriage carrying Veovis rattled through the gates, drawn by two great oxen.
After twenty days of evidence, the Council was to give their verdict. Never before had so high a public figure been on trial, and never for such heinous crimes.
To trade in illicit Books was bad enough, but to kill one’s fellow guildsmen, that was unheard of. And that was why they crowded into the narrow spaces between the great houses of the upper city, straining to get a glimpse of the villain of the piece, Veovis.
Some saw him as a greedy man, for whom great riches had never been enough. Others commented on his hypocrisy and saw his protestations of innocence in the face of such a weight of fact as a sure sign of his mental instability.
This was the atmosphere in which Veovis stepped down from the carriage, and, climbing the marble steps of the Guild House, crossed the outer room and entered the great chamber to hear the verdict of his peers.
A temporary gallery had been built at one end of the chamber especially for the occasion—a temporary affair that seated those few dozen guests who had been invited by the Council to bear witness. Among these were the families of the two dead guildsmen, A’Gaeris, and Aitrus’s wife, Ti’ana.
Anna was now a D’ni citizen. In a private ceremony, a week earlier, she had become by law what blood nor marriage could make her. It was a precedent, but one the Council approved.
But now the moment had come. As Veovis stepped out between the great doors, a silence fell over the great, circular chamber. From their seats on the various levels, every member turned to look.
Veovis had had his hair cut stubble short. He wore a simple one-piece of rust-red cloth. There were iron manacles about his wrists, linked by a short length of chain, and manacles at both ankles, from which two fine steel chains led back into the hands of a Maintainer guard; a big man, capable, it seemed, of holding back a team of horses.
Even so, Veovis stood there a moment with his head high, his eyes as proud, as unbowed, as an eagle’s, then he began to descend the steps, passing between the great pillars.
Below Veovis, in the center of the chamber, stood the five great thrones of the Five Lords of D’ni, but today only four of them were filled. As Veovis came to a halt in the space before them, the great Lords stared at him like living statues, their dignity immense.
There was a moment’s silence, tense, expectant, and then Lord R’hira spoke.
“Guildsmen. Have you decided?”
There was a resounding “Aye!” from all sides of the chamber.
“And your verdict?”
“Guilty!” 360 voices said as one.
It was done. Veovis seemed to tremble; yet his head did not waver, nor did his eyes show even a flicker of regret. If anything he seemed even more defiant than before.
R’hira looked to him, his ancient eyes cold, no trace of compassion in them. “Before I come to your sentence, is there anything you would like to say, Guild Master Veovis?”
Veovis met the ancient’s eyes, then shook his head.
“Very well, then it is the decision of this House that you be stripped of all rank and that from henceforth your membership of the guild be annulled. Further, you will be taken from here and on the seventeenth hour fifteen days hence will be transferred to a suitable Prison Age, to be held there for the remainder of your natural life.”
All eyes were on Veovis. From her seat in the gallery Anna saw how fine, how dignified he looked
in this his final moment and felt the slightest flicker of doubt cross her mind. Yet he was guilty. She had heard and seen enough these past twenty days to know that much. Glancing across, she saw how A’Gaeris was leaning forward. What was that gleam in his eyes? Delight that justice had finally been done? Or was it simple gloating?
She looked down briefly, a shiver of distaste running through her, then looked back, her eyes seeking out Aitrus where he sat in the first row, just behind Veovis.
As Veovis turned, preparing to climb the steps again and leave the chamber, he halted briefly, right in front of Aitrus, staring down at his once-friend. Something seemed to be said, then he walked on, his bare, manacled feet climbing the stone, the big Maintainer trailing behind.
Anna waited, as the great Lords ended the session, then, as the members began to stand, a great murmur of talk rising in the chamber, she hurried quickly down the steps.
Aitrus was standing in the midst of a tiny group of other members. As she stepped into their circle they broke off their animated discussion, bowing to her respectfully.
“What did he say?” she asked, looking anxiously to Aitrus.
He hesitated, conscious of the others listening. “Not here, Ti’ana.”
She frowned. “Did he threaten you?”
Aitrus shook his head, but he was awkward now. Looking about him apologetically, he stepped across the circle and, taking Anna’s arm, led her away.
“Well?” she asked, when they were outside, out of the hearing of the others. “What did he say?”
Aitrus turned from her, as if he could not face her. He seemed pale now, discomfited. “He blames me.”
“Is that what he said. That he blames you?”
Aitrus shook his head.
“Well, tell me, Aitrus. What did he say?”
Aitrus turned, looking directly at her. “ ‘You should have let me fall.’ That’s what he said.”
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