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Chapter 51
December, 3,390 BC
Earth: Village of Assur
Gita
It was almost nightfall when she heard them arrive downstairs; first Rakshan's voice, then Behnam's, then Yalda and Zhila's, and then finally Immanu himself returned with the Chief. They conversed amongst themselves, and then sent Siamek up to fetch her, followed by Zhila, winded from her climb up the steps. Despite her age, the second-oldest woman in the village refused to lean on Siamek's arm and peered at Gita with her cateract-clouded eyes.
"They wait for you, child," Zhila said.
Gita nodded, her eyes black with fear. She'd known this was coming. She'd known this was coming all along. The Tribunal. The three-judge panel who convened only to consider matters too weighty for even the Chief to decide ... or too controversial.
Zhila's wrinkled lips tightened into a grim line, though whether it was at her, or the lingering stench of Mikhail's chest wound, Gita couldn't tell.
"They're meeting here because Mikhail is too frail for you to leave his side for too long," Zhila said. "And also because the Chief fears Immanu might rile up the village to take matters into their own hands, no matter what the Tribunal decides."
"You'll come get me if he forgets to breathe?"
"Just tell the truth, child," Zhila said. "Tell the truth no matter how frightened you are or damning the evidence might be. If you tell the truth, the Tribunal will be inclined to grant you mercy, for only if they know the truth can they guide this village about larger matters."
"I understand."
Once upon a time, the widow-sisters had been her protectors, two kind old women who had given her a piece of bread each morning under the ruse of letting her fetch their water. They had always been kind when no other soul had seen her, but Mikhail had been dearer to them still. Did they think she was guilty? Gita had no idea. The moment Immanu had accused her of being a traitor, the entire village had rallied behind him, all waiting for Mikhail to wake up and adjudicate her guilt.
Only Mikhail hadn't awoken. And now Immanu wanted his vengeance without even waiting for the man to pass into the eternal night...
Siamek towered over her, his expression dark and unreadable. Why, oh why, did they always send him to guard her? Him, who trusted her less than all the others? She moved past him, noticing the way he pulled back when her shoulder accidentally brushed his chest.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
Emotion danced across his face. Anger? Hatred? Longing?
'Don't look at me like that,' she thought to herself, but she dared not give voice to those words. Not to him, he who had every reason to hate her.
She moved down the stairs, still blood-stained from the night before. Seated on a long bench were Yalda, the oldest woman in the village, Behnam, one of Mikhail's eight original archers, and Rakhshan, the flint-knapper, a man who Gita barely knew. At one end of the Tribunal stood Immanu and the Chief, and at the other stood Needa, her arms crossed, glowering at her husband.
Zhila was old enough that she should have sat in Rakshan's place, but Yalda and Zhila always said they were of such like mind that having two sisters on the tribunal would be like granting no decision at all. Gita searched for a friendly face, but the Tribunal was stone-faced whenever they were faced with an adjudication. Chief Kiyan refused to meet her gaze, while Immanu glowered at her, his eyes filled with hatred.
"You have made serious allegations, shaman," Yalda said. "Allegations you have made before, and which the Chief's own investigation did not support. Now you have asked us to second-guess his judgment, claiming new evidence which the Chief does not wish to consider."
Needa glowered at her husband.
Immanu glared at the Chief.
The Chief glanced at Gita, his expression cloaked.
Gita's eyebrows raised in surprise. The Chief had already conducted an investigation? How come none of the guards had told her this? All of a sudden, her continued existence, Needa's refusal to kick her out, and Immanu's anger at the fact Mikhail went downhill the moment he forced her to leave all made sense.
"We shall not entertain evidence upon which the Chief has already considered ... and rejected," Behnam said, the elderly archer. "Only new evidence, shaman. Who do you call as your witness?"
Gita's heart fell as her uncle called the name.
"I call Waradishtar of Nineveh," Immanu said. "Qishtea's second-in-command."
Immanu's eyes glowed with victory as Waradishtar strode into the house, wearing the fringed robe of an emissary. Gita felt sick. Waradishtar had always had it out for her, even before she'd insulted him at the Regional Meeting of Chiefs.
"What evidence do you have for us, son?" Yalda asked. As the oldest living person in this village, it was her privilege to speak first, whether or not she was a woman.
"I bring evidence that the traitor has a long history of conspiring with Shahla," Waradishtar said.
"And what form does this evidence take?" Yalda asked.
"My own first-hand observations," Waradishtar said. "And this seal of authorization from Qishtea, Chief of Nineveh, to speak on his behalf."
"Go on," Immanu said. "Tell them what you told to me!"
"Nine moon cycles ago," Waradishtar said, "Jamin came into our village, sent on a trading mission by his father." The Nineveh emissary gave the Chief an apologetic look. "This was while Qishtea's father was still alive and Chief Kiyan's son was still a part of Assur."
"This Tribunal has convened to adjudicate Gita's guilt," Yalda said, "not Jamin's. Jamin has already been banished from this village."
"That's what I'm getting at," Waradishtar said. "Several traders accompanied the former young chieftain, including Laum, the linen-trader, and Shahla, the linen-trader's daughter."
"And was there anyone else in this delegation?" Yalda asked.
"Yes," Waradishtar said. He looked straight at Gita. "Gita accompanied Shahla as her guest."
Gita wished fervently a hole would open up and swallow her alive. Oh, how happy she had been to be asked along on that mission! And oh, how much she regretted it now, being sucked into Shahla's intrigues!
"And what did Gita do during this trip to Nineveh?" Yalda asked.
Her ears began to ring. She could feel the sand being shoveled around her body, incapacitating it so the villagers could stone her alive.
"She was observed carrying trinkets from Shahla's quarters to Jamin's," Waradishtar said. "But Jamin wasn't interested in her, so instead she sent Gita to arrange a liason with Qishtea, to sleep with him and then leak the information to Jamin to make him jealous, because everybody knew that whatever Qishtea had, Jamin wanted too."
"And did Gita arrange this liason with Qishtea?" Yalda asked.
Waradishtar gave Gita a triumphant grin.
"Yes, she did," Waradishtar said. "And then she arranged to have Jamin walk in on them so he would see Shahla in Qishtea's bed and be moved to take back possession of his woman."
"And did it work?" Yalda asked.
"Not the way they wanted," Waradishtar gave Gita a cruel grin. "Jamin walked in and told Qishtea he could have her. Shahla, that is. Nobody wants Gita, not even if she spreads her legs and gives the entire army access to her pleasures."
"That's enough!" Yalda snapped. "We shall not tolerate personal attacks upon the accused!"
"Assur may be smaller than Nineveh," Behnam said, "but we are more civilized than you. The Tribunal shall not tolerate such disrespectful speech!"
Gita recognized the echo of Mikhail in Behnam's words. Or was that the echo of Behnam in Mikhail's teachings? The two had hunted together often, one the mentor in heavenly warfare, the other a teacher of how to handle men possessing large egos.
"Did you witness this intrusion yourself, Waradishtar?" Yalda asked.
"Yes, I did," Waradishtar said. "It was my night to stand sentry outside Qishtea's father's house. Gita claimed Qishtea's father had summoned him and led him straight into Qish
tea's bedroom."
"What did Qishtea do?" Yalda asked.
"The moment he realized what the two had been up to," Waradishtar said, "he threw Shahla out of his bed and told her to go out into the desert and sleep with the hyenas."
"What did Shahla do?"
"She threatened Qishtea she would get even," Waradishtar said. "And then she stormed out of there, dragging that one by the arm."
"See!" Immanu crowed triumphantly. "This was not the first time this one acted as a go-between for Shahla and this one's traitorous son!"
"We shall decide that matter," Yalda said.
"But the evidence is as plain as the nose on your face!" Immanu shouted. "Can't you see? She is guilty!"
The three Tribunal members glanced from one to the other.
"Do you bring any other evidence that Gita conspired with Shahla?" Yalda asked.
"No," Waradishtar said. "That is the only incident I witnessed."
Rakshan, the quietest of the tribunal, drummed his fingers on his hands, knapping imaginary arrows in his mind.
"Tell me, Waradishtar," Rakshan asked. "How long ago did Shahla lay down with Qishtea?"
"It was early spring," Waradishtar said. "A few weeks before the winged one moved into your village. Until then, it was possible to reason with Jamin, to distract him from his obsessions with talk of the hunt, but after the winged one took up residence here, there was no reasoning with the man. It was as if he'd been driven mad."
Rakshan drummed his fingers some more.
"Do you have any knowledge as to whether or not Qishtea consummated this tryst with Shahla?" Rakshan asked. His fingers flicked at his hand, flick, flick, flick, knocking imaginary chunks of stone out of whatever shaped within his mind.
"Of course he did!" Waradishtar laughed. "Qishtea is quite the ladies' man, and they were in there for several hours, grunting like two horny goats until Jamin walked in and caught them in the act."
Gita's eyes grew wide. Shahla had always denied she'd lay down with Qishtea, claiming she'd only led him on just long enough for Gita to maneuver Jamin where she wanted him, all under the guise of making Jamin jealous. Was Waradishtar lying when he claimed Shahla had been there for hours?
The same horrible thought passed through her mind at the same moment it passed through the other members of the Tribunal.
"Thank you, Wardishtar, for traveling so far to bring this matter to our attention," Yalda said. She gave the Ninevehian warrior a polite nod. "I trust you have found comfortable accomodations for the evening?"
Waradishtar glanced between Immanu and the Chief. Given the attack last night, neither person's house was suitable to host someone as high-ranking as the Nineveh emissary. Especially not the Chief, whose house had suffered fire-damage.
"He is welcome to spend the night with me," Behnam said. "My accomodations are far less luxurious than the Chief's, but my wife is a wonderful cook. When I was dragged out of my house earlier this afternoon, my wife was in the process of plucking a nice, plump duck."
"Thank you, Behnam," Waradishtar said. He nodded to each member of the Tribunal, and then shot Gita an 'I told you I'd fuck you over look' as he strolled out of there, his expression triumphant.
No sooner was the door closed than Yalda gave voice to the thought on everybody's mind. She turned to Gita, her brown eyes furious.
"You knew that baby had possibly been fathered by Qishtea!" Yalda shouted at her. "And you never spoke up to exhonerate Mikhail!"
"I ... I ... I didn't know!" Gita blurted out.
"Do you deny you led Jamin there to make him jealous of his rival?"
"No!" Gita said. "I mean ... yes. I don't know!"
"Which is it, child?" Behnam interceded.
Gita's heart beat in her throat as she stared at the faces which all stared at her with hostility. Immanu, because he blamed her for his daughter's kidnapping. Chief Kiyan, because she should have known Shahla had lied when she'd claimed she'd been too heart-sick over Jamin to lay down with Qishtea. And now Yalda, dear sweet Yalda who had fed her when she was hungry and trusted her inside her house. She remembered how Zhila had said to conduct herself.
"I did act as intermediary to bring Qishtea and Shahla together," Gita confessed. "And I did lead Jamin there, at the appointed time, because Shahla wished for him to realize she had other options. We both wanted Jamin to stop pining after Ninsianna. But Shahla always swore she had not lain down with Qishtea that night."
"And why should we believe you, traitor?" Immanu hissed.
"Because it is the truth," Gita said. "Shahla never told anyone she was pregnant until she grew so large her mother noticed she was with child. The only thing she wanted was for Jamin to marry her."
Needa stepped forward.
"Then why, child, did she accuse Mikhail of fathering her child?"
Gita swallowed. The truth. They wanted to know the truth.
"Jamin didn't want anything to do with Shahla until the day he was supposed to marry Ninsianna," Gita said. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "She loved him, but he wasn't the same man he'd been before. Every time he got angry, he took it out on her by beating her. I told her she deserved better, but she kept making excuses for him. So I told her a little lie. I told her -I- had a crush on Mikhail, because whatever man I liked, Shahla always stepped in to take him first."
"Why would you set your friend's sights on a man who was already promised to someone else?" Needa asked. "Do you know what hell you put them through? Ninsianna and my son-in-law?"
"I told her that because he was unassailable," Gita wept. "Mikhail never had eyes for any woman except for Ninsianna. I just wanted to keep her mind off of Jamin, so I set her sites on the one man she couldn't have. I had no idea that Shahla would become mentally unstable."
"And so Mikhail was accused," Yalda said. "And you, child, never stepped forward to clear his name."
"I didn't know," Gita wept, but the words sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Shahla always claimed she had no idea who the child's father was. And the more I found out about how many men she'd lain down with, the more I believed her. That she really did not know."
Chief Kiyan looked to Immanu. "Does Qishtea know the baby might have been his?"
"Does it matter anymore?" Immanu asked.
Chief Kiyan rubbed his chest above his heart.
"No," he said softly. "I suppose it is too late to do anything about it. Qishtea would not have accepted responsibility for the girl's condition any more than my son did."
Gita expected the Chief to glare at her with hatred, but instead his eyes were filled with grief. It was no secret that the Chief hadn't been the same since his son had been banished and since last night, it appeared the Chief might die of sorrow.
"So how does the tribunal rule?" Immanu asked.
The three Tribunal members looked from one unto the other.
"Do you have any additional evidence, shaman?" Yalda asked.
"Isn't that enough?" Immanu asked, his expression hostile.
"Answer the question, shaman."
Gita stood frozen in terror. Here it was. They would judge her guilty, and then drag her away to do ... what? What was she guilty of?
"I demand you sentence the girl to death by fire!" Immanu said.
The three Tribunal members glanced at one another, and then nodded. They had reached an agreement.
"We will take the matter under advisement," Yalda said.
"But the solstice fire is in three days!" Immanu said. "If I throw her on the Narduğan fire, She-who-is will be appeased."
"You do not have the right to take Gita's life in exchange for your daughter's," Yalda said. "You gave away that right when you gave away her hand in marriage to her husband."
"Mikhail is as good as dead!" Immanu shouted. He pointed at the Tribunal, his eyes so golden they were almost red.
"He is not dead yet," all three Tribunal members spoke in unison.
"We shall not rule on her guilt until the matter has been res
olved as to whether we render a decision on one death," Behnam said. "Or two."
"Rehashing this injury is harmful to our village," Rakshan said. "The Tribunal does not wish to keep hearing the same evidence be repeated over and over again."
Hope flared in Gita's heart. She noted the way Yalda kept glancing up the stairs to Mikhail's bedroom. All understood the only reason Mikhail fought to live was because he believed his wife was at his side. If she was killed, he'd be dead within hours. The Tribunal stalled for time.
"Kiyan?" Immanu turned to the Chief.
"I ceded my authority on this matter to them," Chief Kiyan said. "But even if I hadn't, old friend, I would have to agree with them. So long as Mikhail is alive, the right to demand this girl's life in exchange for that of his wife belongs to him. Not you."
Gita had always lurked in the periphery of the witchy things her uncle and cousin had done to invoke blessings for the village, but one thing she had learned last night was that sometimes when you were desperate, the gods did answer your prayers. Trills of energy tickled throughout her body as Immanu's eyes turned pure gold. A different person peered out of her uncle's eyes, an authority higher than the Tribunal to dictate what the village must do.
"You will make this sacrifice," She-who-is-Immanu spoke through the shaman's mouth. "So at the moment of death, I can peer into this traitor's soul and discern where the Evil One has spirited away my Chosen One."
She-who-is-Immanu appeared oddly feminine despite being in possession of a grown man's body.
"Immanu?" Rakshan asked, the flint-knapper.
"You will address me as Your Eminence," She-who-is-Immanu said, "for so long as I choose to inhabit this mortal vessel."
Every person in the room gaped except for Needa, who rolled her eyes. Gita felt terror as that golden gaze met her black eyes, and then stared right through her, as though seeing her for the very first time.
"I thought ... only ... Ninsianna..." Rakshan stammered.
"The vessel must be willing," She-who-is-Immanu said. "Something this one stopped being after that useless creature," SHE pointed at Needa, "refused to come back until he stopped allowing me to inhabit his body. My Chosen One posseses no such inhibitions."
Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 54