The Swordsman's Oath toe-2
Page 36
“Come.” Laio turned and led the way, back straight, head held high, her poise impeccable. I drew myself up as straight as if I had been granted a private audience with the Emperor and kept pace at her heel. As we reached the stairs, Gar and Sezarre emerged, equally resplendent, faces equally grave. Side by side and everyone in step, we descended to the compound where the throng parted before us in silent waves of obeisance before sweeping around to follow like a gathering sea at our backs. Crossing the compound, we entered a great hall that I had not been in before and it took all my training to remain impassive as I took in my surroundings.
This was Shek Kul’s audience chamber, the heart of the domain, the seat of his authority. It was a lofty, pillared hall with walls of shining black marble inlaid with false arches of a green, veined stone, bracketed with torches scattering golden light from their faceted and mirrored niches. Shutters high above our heads had been opened and a breeze stirred the array of pennants hanging from the central arch of the roof. The snap and flutter of the silk could clearly be heard above the faint sounds of the expectant crowd. Censers filled the air with their perfume and the soft whisper of fly-whisks sounded on all sides.
Our steps echoed on the floor, the sound vanishing into the masses already gathered along the walls, more pressing in at the wide double doorway. We proceeded up the central aisle to stand in the center of a vast abstract design in green marble set into the floor at the foot of a flight of three broad steps. Shek Kul looked down from the dais, seated squarely on a black wood throne inlaid with silver and precious stones. In a dramatic contrast to ourselves, the Warlord was dressed in plain white silk, hair and beard unornamented, his only gem a great emerald set in a heavy gold chain around his neck. He waved Laio and Gar to seats at his off hand with an economical gesture, his grave expression unchanging.
I took my stand at Laio’s shoulder, wanting to share a glance with Sezarre but unable to do so without moving my head. Before I had time to grow concerned about the possible implications of Shek Kul’s dress, a low murmur swept toward us through the expectant crowd and the guards at the doorway stood aside to let Kaeska Shek enter. I heard a note of sympathy, which gave me something new to worry about.
Kaeska was a forlorn figure, tiny in the vastness of the hall, bare feet silent on the cold marble as she walked up the central aisle toward judgment. Her hair was bound in a simple braid down her back, face naked and vulnerable, and she wore only a plain dress of unbleached cotton. I managed to keep my own contempt out of my face, but couldn’t help glancing at Shek Kul to see how he was reacting to this display of penitence. To my relief I was sure I saw a gleam of cynicism to answer my own in his dark eyes. Looking for the Elietimm priest, I saw he was following Kaeska, his distance nicely judged not to distract the onlookers from her portrayal of humble duty.
My thoughts were interrupted by the heavy slam of the far doors, the bar falling across with a thud that made me feel as trapped as Kaeska, the feverish scent of anticipation replacing the fragrant aroma of the night-time gardens. I drew a deep breath as Shek Kul rose to his feet, looking down at Kaeska with hard eyes.
“You are accused of suborning sorcery in my domain, woman. How do you answer?”
“I deny the act.” Kaeska’s reply was little more than a whisper, catching on a half-stifled sob that elicited a ripple of sympathy from the closest spectators. Shek Kul looked unmoved.
“I will hear the accusation.” He looked at me and I thought I saw some hint of encouragement in a softening of his expression.
“Stand next to Kaeska,” Laio murmured through barely parted lips and I marched briskly down the steps, pleased to see faint distress in Kaeska’s eyes as I towered over her, armored in all the regalia of the domain. Wreathed around with the coils of the inlaid design, I have to confess that I felt uncomfortably exposed to the probing gazes all around.
“Speak only the truth or suffer the consequences.” Shek Kul looked even more forbidding from here.
I took a soldier’s stance and began my tale, drawing on all my knowledge of the Aldabreshin tongue, forcing myself to speak slowly and clearly, repressing any hint of emotion, trusting that the facts alone would condemn the woman. Murmurs among the crowd rose, died back and swelled again as I continued my recital, but I kept my eyes fixed on Shek Kul, speaking to him as if we were alone in the windswept center of the Dalasorian plains. When I fell silent, the tension in the air would have blunted steel.
“What say you?” Shek Kul demanded of Kaeska.
“I confess—” She collapsed to her knees, face hidden in her hands, her sobs ripping through the shocked silence of the great hall.
“You—” Shek Kul was startled to his feet for an instant before he regained his poise. I looked at Laio and saw she had gone so pale beneath her complexion and her face paints that I thought she would faint.
“Not to the sorcery!” Kaeska’s head snapped up and, for all her tears, her eyes were clear and calculating. “Never to the magic but, oh, my lord, I—” she choked on a shuddering breath. “I confess to fatal weakness, mortal foolishness, to succumbing to the lure of the mainlander smoke. I have sought for so long for a cure for the pain that twists in my heart, that I have been unable to bear children, that my blood falls barren, not to nourish the domain—”
Her eyes closed in anguish, she clasped her hands to her breast, mouth working but no words emerging. She could certainly weave a pretty sentence for a woman in such dire distress, I thought sourly.
“In my travels and trade, as I sought to serve the domain in the only way I could, I heard mention of these mainlander smokes, of the way they can lighten the heaviest burdens. I was tempted but I resisted, you must believe me, I resisted until I heard that Mahli was to bring the blessing on the domain where I had failed. The anguish, the envy, the mean and petty jealousy that clawed at me, oh my lord, I hated myself for the foulness of my thoughts when I should have been rejoicing—I could live with the pain of my empty womb but I could not face the repellent creature I had become. I took to the smoke to escape myself, the rending of my conscience, the corruption that festered within me!” Her voice, rising through this increasingly frantic speech, fell and shattered into hysterical crying, Kaeska prostrate on the shining floor, hands clinging to the unyielding stone.
I kept my stance, expressionless but I could assess all too well from the faces I could see the impact of the tableau the pair of us were presenting; Kaeska, tiny, undefended, baring the shameful secrets of her heart as I loomed over her, armored, ostentatious in my finery, eyes hooded by the helm, my sword hanging over her naked neck.
Rapid chatter scurried around the assembled islanders, the volume increasing until it was abruptly silenced as Shek Kul rose and descended the steps with a measured tread.
“Calm yourself.” His soft words reached to the furthest corners of the hall as he knelt beside the weeping woman and she fell silent. Taking one of Kaeska’s hands, he raised her to her knees and used a soft silk square to gently wipe the tears from her face.
“So why does this slave accuse you of sorcery?” I breathed a shallow sigh of relief at the firmness of Shek Kill’s question.
Kaeska spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “I do not know. I cannot say—my lord, forgive my foolishness, my failing! I have spent long days of anguish repenting my weakness, I will be a good wife to you—raise Laio and Gar above me and I will take my place as the least of your women. My transgressions have been grievous but I have seen the error of my ways—let me make a new start just as the birth of our son marks a fresh opening for the domain. Crown this joyous time with the shining jewel of mercy.”
“If this slave did not see sorcery, what did he see?” Shek Kul stood and looked down at Kaeska, arms folded, face stern, his manner subtly directing the mood in the hall.
“May I speak?”
The Ice Islander’s halting words shocked a hiss from the assembly but I saw Shek Kul’s eyes were unsurprised. “I will hear you.”
So his was the pattern of words I had been hearing in Kaeska’s impassioned laments.
“The slave was listening at the door, was he not?” The snake wasn’t even looking at me. “The shutters were open to catch the breeze and the door was uncurtained, as I recall. I suggest the air carried the smoke to the slave and worked on his mind to weave a hallucination. It is not an uncommon effect of the drug on an unprepared mind; I blame myself for not ensuring the smoke did not drift.”
Shek Kul looked at me. “How say you?”
I bit down my instinctive rebuttal and took a slow count of three before replying. “No, it was no hallucination.” The approval in Shek Kul’s eyes at my considered response heartened me further.
“Forgive me,” the Ice Islander’s words were courteous, but I hoped Shek Kul could see the hostility in the man’s eyes as he turned his gaze toward me, “but how can you be so sure? The very nature of an hallucination is to mimic reality in every particular.”
“I had experience of taking smoke in my youth.” I kept my voice level and unemotional. “This was completely unlike that feeling.”
“Of course,” the Elietimm nodded, “you are a mainlander, are you not?”
I could tell this reminder was not lost on the watching islanders and saw that Shek Kul was looking thoughtful.
“I am body slave to the Warlord’s lady, Laio Shek,” I stated firmly. That much was simple fact, and no forswearing.
“The question of the effect of the drug aside,” the Ice Islander moved on smoothly, “your accusation of sorcery, of magic, stems from what exactly? From the rites you say you saw and heard? From the words I spoke in what you yourself said was a tongue unknown to you?”
I nodded, not about to risk a snare in his tangled argument. He inclined his head with a satisfied air and turned to Shek Kul.
“As I explained, the holy men of my people use the smoke to open their minds to the higher states of awareness. I have some grounding in what is a complex procedure, not without risk, and we use chants to focus ourselves. This is what the slave heard and did not understand; it is not magic in any sense.”
“What I saw being practiced was sorcery.” I raised my voice above his tone of level reasonableness and was gratified by the whisper that ran around the hall.
“Again, I ask, how can this man be sure?” The Elietimm kept his eyes on Shek Kul.
“I have seen magic worked before—”
‘The mainlander practices of charlatans and those whose very blood is tainted with enchantment—are you saying you are familiar with such men?“ The priest’s eagerness to discredit me betrayed him.
“I have seen this magic worked by men of your race, on the islands you inhabit in the far ocean,” I stated baldly.
The bastard knew I had scored a hit with that stroke and looked for a recovery. “You say you have visited my homeland? How did you come to be there? What were you doing in the deep ocean?”
“I was on a fishing vessel that was carried far off its course by wind and current.” What did the fool think I was going to say? That I had been on a spying trip working with a wizard of Hadrumal who reported directly to the Archmage?
“So you don’t know exactly where you were?”
I had to concede that, given the circumstances.
“Did you see much of the island you arrived at? How long were you there?”
“Enough to know your islands have none of the resources you are offering to trade—no wood, no metals, no leathers,” I said crisply. “Long enough to be greeted with hostility and attacked with magic.”
“You are no fisherman, surely? What were you doing on a fisher vessel?”
This change of tack momentarily threw me off balance. Aware that I had hesitated, if only for a breath, I opted for the truth. “As a sworn man to the House of D’Olbriot, I was seeking revenge for cowardly and magical assaults on members of my master’s family.”
That came out more forcefully than I had intended. I mentally kicked myself as I felt a shift of disapproval in the air of the hall.
“It would seem your mistress has still to beat those old loyalties out of you, Tormalin man.” The Elietimm fixed me with a challenging eye for a moment but then shrugged helplessly. “I believe I know the islands that you speak of, but I can assure you I am not of their race.”
“You are of the appearance of the enchanters, you speak their tongue.” I insisted, aware this was now my word against his. “I have also seen your kind of magic worked on the mainland, used in foul assaults on the weak and helpless, to maim and to rob.” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice as 1 remembered Messire’s nephew, blinded and bleeding after these scum had beaten him senseless. If this bastard was going to remind everyone I was a mainlander, I’d do my best to reverse that rune for him.
Shek Kul raised a hand and returned to the dais, all eyes on him, my heart quickening.
“I do not find this matter either truly proved or satisfactorily refuted,” he declared, his deep voice ringing through the hush of the hall. “A grave crime is alleged and this must be resolved. The truth will be tested in single combat, at noon tomorrow, on the person of this body slave who brings the accusation.”
I looked blankly at Laio, only to see a look of total shock on her face. She jumped to her feet, silencing the buzz of speculation running rife on every side.
“Where is the body slave to Kaeska Shek, that her veracity may be defended?”
“Yes, where is Irith?”
Shek Kul looked at Kaeska, who was unable to restrain a fleeting smug expression before collapsing once more with piercing wails of distress. “He is dead, my faithful servant, he is lost because of my stupidity. As well as the smoke, I acquired some berries to numb my mind, but whereas I knew they should only be eaten one at a time and seldom, Irith found them and ate them all!”
“The commander of the guard will examine the body.” Shek Kul’s uncompromising pronouncement shocked Kaeska to silence and she stared up with no little dismay. I couldn’t see what she had to worry about; tahn poisoning is tahn poisoning and I couldn’t see there being any trace to prove whose hand had been behind it.
The Elietimm stepped forward to divert attention from Kaeska, all humble solicitude. “Since it is my ill-considered actions that have exposed the lady to these accusations, may I make some reparation by defending her honor? I am no swordsman but I have some small skill with a mace, if that would be allowed.”
Shek Kul looked at him, contempt plain on his face now he had given his judgment. “That would seem entirely fitting.”
I bit down hard on my protests as I caught a frantic look of appeal from Laio. Fuming, I waited as first Shek Kul then the two wives descended from the dais, Kaeska taking her place beside Gar, a spring in her step proof against the venomous glance she received from Laio. Sezarre moved to put himself between me and the Elietimm, a good thing because I was so furious I was sorely tempted to put a length of sharp steel through the bastard’s guts there and then. Kaeska and the enchanter must have been working to this end all along. We returned to the residence, my anger driving me on so fast that Laio was only able to keep her position in front of me by half running at times.
I turned on her as soon as we were inside her apartment, not caring who heard what through the flimsy
walls and shutters. “What’s this about a single combat? You never said anything about that! You were so cursed sure Shek Kul would leap at the chance to get rid of that bitch, he’d hardly pause for breath! What’s going on?” I ripped off my helm and bracers, dropping them anyhow, heedless as a gem bounced loose from its mounting.
“It’s hardly ever done, I never thought Shek Kul would opt for testing the truth like that.” Laio was visibly upset, but I had more important things to worry me as I stripped off my chainmail.
“Where’s the cursed justice in a single combat, Dast help me? I could have taken Irith, no question, whether Kaeska was innocent or guilty—that’s probably why they finished the poor bastard off! Now I have to fight that cursed enchanter, who’s not only handy-looking with a mace but I’ll lay sound coin will be using magic on me as well!”
Laio was struggling to follow my rapid and impassioned Tormalin. “He wouldn’t dare,” she objected.
“Who’s going to know? Who’s to say his little chant isn’t some kind of battle cry? Is Shek Kul going to stop the fight when I back off and say the bastard is messing with my mind? How exactly does this test of truth work?” I was sweating profusely and shrugged myself out of my padded jerkin with an oath.
“It’s a fight, two men, each with a weapon and armor, to the death.” Laio looked on the edge of tears. “Once the word is given, it cannot be stopped, not until one is dead. Anyone backing out is deemed guilty and executed.”
“Either party? If I back out, all of a sudden, I’m looking at a sunset trip with Poldrion?”
Laio’s hands hovered in confusion as my meaning escaped her. “The test is a serious matter, Shek Kul would not call for one unless he thought it was necessary. You are telling the truth, so you are bound to win!”