The Arbiter gaveled once more. “The aggrieved will now make his case,” he said.
Once more, Hal’El took the lectern and called on his attestants. The first to be named was one of Suge’s lackeys, Han Reold. He was led through the events of the night in question, lingering on how he and the other two Wrestivas felt upon seeing two Kumma women accompanied by a Sentya.
“So, you were rightly incensed by this puffed up boy daring to spend time alone with a beautiful daughter of our own Caste?”
Jaresh snorted in disgust and reddened in anger. His mood wasn’t improved as he noticed several of the ‘Els and Kummas nod in understanding as Hal’El encouraged a testimony meant to make Suge seem like a noble warrior seeking to protect a virtuous maiden from the grotesque advances of a thick-skulled, slavering Sentya. He recognized Hal’El’s ploy, but it wasn’t the same as accepting it, much less liking it. Jaresh was the son of Dar’El Shektan and Bree was his sister. Why shouldn’t he go to a play with her?
Fortunately, his mood improved when Nanna got a hold of the sycophantic rat. His father went straight for the jugular and forced Han to repeat what Suge had said to Bree.
The gallery gasped in shock and horror when Suge’s words were made public. Jaresh was pleased to see even the conservative ‘Els squirm in discomfort and disgust.
“He said what about my daughter? I sure I must have misheard,” Nanna said in flat voice, taking a menacing step forward. Upon hearing the words repeated, Nanna turned to face the gallery, fury etched on his face. “Consider those words, and consider what your actions would have been had some sodden thug dared speak such vile curses at your own daughter. Or your sister. Or your wife. Who among you would have held back?”
“I thought his words were disgraceful,” Han blurted out. “He shouldn’t have said what he said. They were indefensible.”
Nanna slowly turned back to face him. “Indefensible? As in words so ugly you would not have protected him from House Shektan’s justified retribution?”
Han nodded, looking miserable and unable to face Nanna’s scrutiny.
Nanna nodded. “Perhaps you are not entirely without character.”
Hal’El stiffened in anger at the words spoken by his kinsman. He shot a look of loathing at Han Reold. It wasn’t what he had expected the bootlicker to admit. By agreeing with Nanna’s assertion, Han had basically undercut Hal’El’s already thin argument that Suge’s actions had been justified on the night in question.
A small smile – one quickly hidden – momentarily lit Jaresh’s face. Nanna had no further questions and took his seat.
“The attestant is dismissed,” Lin’El said.
“A moment,” Hal’El said, standing swiftly. “Might I indulge the tribunal with a final question?”
Lin’El allowed it, and Hal’El approached the attestation stand where his kinsmen shrank beneath his ‘El’s baleful gaze. “On the night my son was murdered, did you have to engage your Well in order to witness the fight?”
“Sir?”
“Are you deaf as well as stupid?” Hal’El snapped. “Did you have to use your Talents in order to witness the fight? Were both combatants moving so swiftly they couldn’t be seen with the unaided eye?”
Han swallowed heavily. “I…I don’t know. I always conduct Jivatma during a fight,” he said. “The Sentya was fast but not as fast as one of us. Not even close.”
“But faster than a Rahail or a Muran?”
Han looked confused. “I suppose so.”
“Yes or no,” Hal’El growled.
“Yes.”
Hal’El smiled in satisfaction and nodded to Lin’El. “I’m done with him.”
Next, Wan was called to the stand, and delivered much the same testimony as his twin. Other attestants were brought forward, and with each of them, Hal’El lingered on the question of Jaresh’s speed in relation to that of Suge.
Even Teletheil Foal, the Shiyen physician who had tried to resuscitate Suge was called as an attestant.
“Did you witness the fight between my son and his murderer?”
“Yes.”
“And what was your impression?”
“The Sentya was the better fighter.”
Jaresh’s lips quirked as Hal’El worked to hold back a scowl of annoyance. “Anything else?”
“Both men moved much faster than my poor eyes could follow.”
“I see. Thank you,” Hal’El said, resuming his seat behind his table.
Nanna stood and approached the Shiyen. “My son’s behavior in the face of the Wrestiva coward’s dishonorable actions…how would characterize them?”
“Noble. He sought to save the life of the man who spoke so poorly about his sister,” the physician said. “All men of decency would have done as your son did.”
Nanna turned to Hal’El. “Almost all of us,” he replied, earning a sharp intake from the gallery at his unvarnsished insult.
Hal’El didn’t react. His eyes remained flat and unblinking.
After the Shiyen was released, Hal’El called his next attestant. His choice was surprising. He called on Conn Mercur, the dean of Verchow School of Medicine, one of the two medical colleges in Ashoka.
Like all Shiyens, including Teletheil Foal, Dean Mercur was somewhat short and stocky. His skin was dark as old walnut and his coarse, black hair was cut short. Dark eyes sat above high, prominent cheeks and a ready smile.
Hal’El approached the attestant stand with a warm and welcoming smile. “You are considered one of the finest minds and physicians of your generation, is that not so?”
Dean Mercur smiled slightly in return. “I simply used the gifts with which Devesh saw fit to bless me. If others accord me any honors, it is because I reflect Devesh’s glorious light, not furnish my own.”
Shiyens had a pious devotion to Devesh, which would have been beautiful if it weren’t in honor of a deity who had abandoned and betrayed Humanity over two thousand years ago. Or so Jaresh thought.
“The humility of a Shiyen,” Hal’El said, sounding warm and sincere. “So different than the boastfulness of a Kumma.” He played to the audience as he chuckled dryly.
Dean Mercur smiled wryly. “Or perhaps we have more reasons to be humble,” he replied, earning further laughter from the gallery.
Hal’El laughed in appreciation as well, and after the audience had settled down, he turned to face Dean Mercur once more. “We’ve heard some harsh words spoken about my son,” he began. “I’m sure it’s upsetting to all in attendance but especially to an honored physician such as yourself.”
The dean paused as though carefully considering his words. “Your son’s words were unseemly. Vulgar. I would have expected better from one of your lineage.”
Hal’El stepped away from the attestant’s stand. “Yes. We all have regrets,” he said softly before turning back to the dean. “What do you know of someone conducting a Talent not of his own Caste?”
Dean Mercur frowned. “It has been known to occur,” he said. “Very rarely, however. I would estimate less than once a century according to our records.”
“Is there a common feature to these occurrences?” Hal’El asked, although Jaresh could tell he knew the answer before he even spoke the question.
The dean nodded. “In times of great need. When one is dying or someone close to you is in dire need, a Talent not of one’s own Caste can manifest.”
“Like as a Sentya battling a Kumma. He would rightly fear such a conflict might lead to his death?” Hal’El asked, staring Jaresh in the eyes.
“It’s possible.”
Jaresh scowled.
“It will be fine” Nanna murmured. “He won’t have the votes for it. I can read the Chamber well enough to know.”
“And when it occurred, how was it viewed?” Hal’El inquired.
“Confusion and disgust,” the dean answered. “Why would someone not of Caste Shiyen be able to Heal? It goes against the dictates of the First Mother and First Father. From The Word a
nd the Deed: To each Caste, a Talent and seek not that which is not yours. It is what They taught us before Suwraith overthrew Their world.”
“And the punishment for such individuals?” Hal’El asked.
Dean Mercur appeared perplexed. “It was different for every individual. Some were allowed to remain in their home cities; others were exiled. It depended on the circumstances and decision of their Caste.”
“And if their ill-gotten Talent led to the murder of another?” Hal’El asked slyly.
Dean Mercur frowned. “I believe this tribunal has been convened to make just such a determination. Is it not so? To decide if your son was killed in self-defense or if he was murdered?”
“Exactly,” Hal’El replied, turning to face his fellow ‘Els. “If a Sentya murders one of our own through the use of our own Talent, what is the punishment for such a heinous act?”
He took his seat, Nanna stood. “And like his son, Hal’El leaps without looking. We haven’t determined that Suge was murdered. By all accounts, he sought the fight, and he lost the fight. Those are the simple facts. All the rest is idiotic confabulation.” He turned to face Hal’El. “Have we really been brought together here at this tribunal, wasting valuable time effort, on this inane hypothesis of yours? All because you are unwilling to accept your son’s flaws?”
“I will show…”
“You’ve shown nothing,” Nanna said, cutting off Hal’El. “And the lectern is not yours.”
“How dare you!”
“Silence!” Lin’El thundered. “The lectern belongs to Dar’El.”
Dar’El waited while Hal’El settled down with a muttered curse before turning to Dean Mercur. “Given the testimony of all those brought forth today, does it seem likely that my son can conduct his Well as a Kumma might?”
“I don’t know,” the dean answered. “There are no records to indicate how fast or strong a non-Kumma would be in such a circumstance.”
“So then this is all just speculation?”
“I suppose so,” the dean agreed.
“In other words, Hal’El has resorted to fables to understand his son’s demise,” Nanna said. “I have no further questions.”
Hal’El stood. “Redirect?”
Lin’El allowed it, Hal’El approached the attestant’s stand. “The autopsy report indicates my son was drunk at the time of the fight. On the Gristole scale, he was a two. That would make him slightly impaired, correct?”
Dean Mercur nodded. “So I have been told.”
“And can you conceive of any situation or circumstance in which a Sentya could defeat a Kumma with such a modest reduction in his fighting ability?”
“No. It should not be possible.”
“No circumstance at all?” Hal’El persisted. “Luck? Greater skill?”
Jaresh held his breath, knowing where this was leading.
Dean Mercur shook his head. “Certainly there is always luck, but the odds would be so great, by all accounts it wasn’t what happened. No one said your son slipped or stumbled. He was simply bested, which should also be impossible.”
“So how did it happen then?” Hal’El asked. “How did a Sentya defeat a Kumma?”
“I don’t know.”
“But if we’ve ruled out luck skill, what else is there?” Hal’El asked. “What other circumstance could allow for such a bizarre occurrence?”
Dean Mercur hesitated. “The only manner I can think of is if the Sentya was moving much faster than normal. If he was stronger as well.”
“Like a Kumma conducting Jivatma.”
The dean hesitated again. “I…suppose so.”
The speculative murmuring of the gallery grated on Jaresh’s nerves. They were actually considering Hal’El’s ridiculous idea.
Dean Mercur proved to be the last of Hal’El’s attestants. After him, it was Nanna’s turn. He called all of Jaresh’s friends, they simply re-iterated what had already been said: Jaresh had not sought this fight Suge was completely to blame for instigating it in the first place. And with every attestant, Nanna let it be known that House Shektan believed in equality amongst the Castes. He also slipped in the implication that House Wrestiva apparently believed Caste Kumma was superior to all the others. How else to explain this tribunal where a Sentya was on trial for his life simply because he had the audacity to defend himself? It was a deadly precedent House Wrestiva sought. The non-Kummas in attendance muttered in angry agreement at Nanna’s words, but too many of the ‘Els seemed to be watching in stony silence, although the members of House Wrestiva looked less than pleased at Hal’El’s inability to deflect Nanna’s insinuations.
Late in the proceedings, as Nanna was finishing up with an attestant, Jaresh noticed Bree finally enter the Assembly.
She quickly made her way down the stairs and across the stage, seating herself next to Jaresh. Whispered murmurs rose at her passing, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Let me interview the pathologist, the one who performed the autopsy?” she whispered to Nanna. She seemed pleased and excited at the same time.
“What have you learned?” Jaresh asked.
“Something that should end this entire farce have it blow up in Hal’El’s face.” She grinned. “You shouldn’t even have to sit at the attestant’s stand,” she said to Jaresh.
“You’re sure?” Nanna asked. “We are already likely to be victorious.”
“I’m certain. This will be the final log on the Wrestiva pyre. They’ll burn,” Bree replied. “But I need to be the one to do the questioning. It’s complicated, and I can’t explain all the details right now.”
“You’ll have your chance,” Nanna said, “but calm yourself. You need to be clear-headed when you question an attestant.”
Jaresh nodded. “I’ll help.” He reached for his Well and conducted Jivatma. One of Caste Sentyas greatest Talents was the ability to instill utter serenity in themselves and thereby organize their thoughts and ideas with near perfect clarity. And it was also a Talent they could share with others.
He encompassed Bree in the glow of his Lucency, and her grin faded. A look of firm resolve took its place. “Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding flatter than usual.
“You’re more than welcome,” Jaresh said, “especially if you can do what you say you can.”
A fleeting smile graced Bree’s face before quickly fading. “Call the attestant.”
Step Lindsar, the Shiyen who had performed Suge’s autopsy was recalled to the attestant’s stand. The physician was in his late forties and sloop-shouldered. His hair was pleated in long braids but his lean, angular face was clean-shaven.
“I cede the lectern to my daughter, Bree Shektan. She will be the one to question Physician Lindsar,” Dar’El said.
Bree stepped forward to the lectern, pausing to clear her throat. “You mention in your report a blue tinge to Suge’s fingers and toes as well as dilated pupils. Do you have any explanation for such a finding?” Bree asked. “Any herbs or something along those lines?”
“Nothing other than poppy-based drugs,” the physician answered. “But none were found in Suge’s body.”
“Nothing?” Bree asked. “You’re sure? No drug that can do all that and also turn the whites of a person’s eyes a barely detectable shade of blue?” Bree seemed to be holding her breath, as though she already knew the answer and was willing the Shiyen to come up with it as well.
The physician thought for a few moments before shifting in his seat, looking uneasy. “There is one,” he said, hesitantly.
“And it is…?” Bree asked after a moment’s silence.
Lindsar grimaced. “Snowblood.”
The gallery exploded into bedlam as the Arbiter hammered his stone gavel for order but to little effect.
“Outrageous! This is a travesty! It was my son who was murdered!” Hal’El shouted as he roared to his feet. “These despicable Shektans shamelessly seek to strip Suge of every last shred of his dignity.”
Jaresh was held frozen in shock. Sno
wblood? It was a powerful hallucinogenic stimulant meant to induce euphoria and a substantial increase in the speed and strength of the user. But, when coming off the high, the drug was known to cause paranoia and rage, as well as a loss of co-ordination and reaction time. Those stupid enough to try it were often addicted within several weeks of regular ingestion. They eventually wasted away as the drug burned them up, leaving them without an appetite for anything but their next use of the drug. Most ended up as skeletal husks, frequently dying within a year of first trying snowblood. As a result, the drug had been banned long ago, and use of it carried a terrible stigma. Jaresh’s lips curled in disgust. Suge using snowblood? What a degenerate.
It still fell to Bree to prove her accusation, but if she could, there was no way Jaresh would be found guilty.
Jaresh shared a tight-lipped smile of triumph with Nanna, and glanced to where the Shektans sat. They were openly smiling, shaking one another’s hands and doing little to hide their joy. His mother’s eyes were shiny, and she wiped aside a tear or two. Even old Durmer Volk and Garnet Bosde were laughing and gave Jaresh a fist pump of encouragement.
It took some time, but the crowd quieted once more with whispers of conversation still rippling here and there.
“I demand that no more questions about snowblood and my son be allowed. He is not facing the tribunal here. The Sentya is!” Hal’El shouted, hot and angry.
“Sit down, Hal’El,” the Arbiter said in irritation. “I know how you must feel, but we must know the truth. Continue,” he said to Step Lindsar.
Physician Lindsar explained the history of the drug and its effects, including the reason it had been banned.
“Your account tells us all we need to know about the drug, but not why Suge might have been using it,” Bree said. “Is there anything else you can offer?”
“Well, along with the emotional changes and metabolic changes – by this I mean the temporary increase in speed and strength followed by a terrific fall off – it also causes characteristic physical findings, and among these are dilated pupils, peripheral cyanosis – blue fingers and toes – and a blue tint to the sclera – the whites of the eyes.”
“We’ve heard it said how Suge greatly improved his skills as a warrior over the past few months. Is that a known side effect of the drug?”
A Warrior's Path (The Castes and the OutCastes) Page 15