Heroes' Reward

by Moira J. Moore

  “This is unacceptable. You represent the Crown now. You will dress accordingly.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “You might want to do something about your hair as well.”

  This was ridiculous. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “You will have access to the finest tailors and maids. You will have no excuse for a substandard appearance.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Do you understand your roles?”

  Servants, spies, and ambulatory art. “Yes, Your Majesty.” I must have sounded like a half-wit, repeating those two words and saying nothing else.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Taro echoed.

  “There is one other matter,” Gifford continued. “You will, of course, be expected to cooperate to the best of your ability during the course of Lord Tarce’s trial.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Whose what?

  “My apologies, Your Majesty.” Taro bowed. “We hadn’t heard of any complaints laid against Lord Tarce.”

  “There is no reason why you should have,” Gifford said coolly.

  All right, then.

  “May we know the nature of the complaints?” Taro pressed.

  “All will be revealed during the proceedings.”

  Just … brilliant. What were we going to do? This was Tarce. Fiona’s brother. An annoying sort of person, but I didn’t believe for a moment he’d broken any laws.

  At least, not any laws that made sense.

  Gifford waved a hand. “You may go.”

  We bowed and left the room. My brain felt frozen. I couldn’t remember getting to our suite, just sitting in a settee and wanting to cry.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tarce was bruised and pale, unshaven, his blond hair greasy. His wrists and his ankles were shackled, hampering his stride, which was already weakened by his limp.

  The Guards, either impatient or amused with each stumble, dragged him more quickly across the floor of the courtroom. The manacles were unnecessary. There was no way Tarce could escape from the ring of Guards surrounding him, and if he did manage to do so, there were Guards at every door. The manacles were meant to humiliate him.

  Once he was in the stall of the accused, though, he stood tall. He was trembling, just a little, but he was attempting to face his accusers with pride.

  He was glaring at the Emperor, which might be foolish but was still admirable.

  The courtroom was nothing like Fiona’s. It was huge, built almost entirely of black walnut, which gave the room an intimidating, suffocating aura. In the centre of the room, isolated from everyone else, was the stall of the accused. The stall faced rows of chairs and desks, four levels ascending to place the highest row well above Tarce’s head. And in that top row, a dark wooden throne had been built for the monarch.

  The Emperor was in attendance, Lady Green seated beside him. In all of the surrounding desks were members of the Imperial Council and a collection of titleholders.

  Along the sides and the back of the room were rows of benches for the spectators. I would say a few hundred could be accommodated. Right then, the benches were packed.

  The Emperor settled everyone in the crowd with a wave of his hand. He nodded at the Minister of Justice, who stood and read aloud from a stack of paper. “Lord Tarce Yuno Det Keplar, by the Emperor Gifford, High Commissioner of Justice, is hereby accused of treason, conspiracy to commit treason, sedition, attempted murder, common assault, sexual assault, and theft.”

  Tarce wasn’t capable of any of those crimes. What had happened?

  “On the allegation of treason, how do you respond?”

  “Not culpable.” His voice shook a little, but it was loud and clear.

  “On the allegation of conspiracy to commit treason, how do you respond?”

  “Not culpable.”

  “On the allegation of sedition, how do you respond?”

  “Not cupable.”

  And so on.

  After he had declined culpability for theft, the Minister of Justice declared, “We shall be adding perjury to the list of allegations.”

  “Why?” Tarce demanded.

  The Minister of Justice scowled. “It’s not your place to ask questions,” she scolded. “The allegation of perjury must be included. Obviously, you lied when you denied responsibility for the other allegations.”

  So logic wasn’t going to have a place in this event. Why were we even there if he was already as good as convicted?

  “I didn’t commit perjury.”

  I looked about the room frantically, trying to find a means of escape. There had to be one. No room was impossible to escape.

  But I couldn’t see any options.

  “Regarding the allegation of treason,” the Minister continued, “letters were intercepted. Letters written by you, giving details of a parade being planned for his Imperial Majesty, details known to no one but a core few at that time. These letters included suggestions where assassins might best assault the Emperor.”

  So they were going to give him the details after demanding a response to the allegations. Very just.

  “I wrote no such letters.”

  “These letters were signed by you. We were told by the woman you hired to deliver them that she received them straight from your hand.”

  “What woman?”

  “We can’t leave the witness vulnerable to retribution.”

  “I have the right to – ”

  “You have only the rights We grant you!” the Emperor thundered.

  According to how the law used to work, Tarce did have the right to question witnesses. No longer, apparently. Tarce changed tactics. “May I see the letters?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” the Minister said.

  Taro had once created a sort of cyclone in a room to prevent a whole bunch of people murdering a whole bunch of other people. Could that work this time? Maybe we could get Tarce away in the confusion.

  No. The cyclone would whip around the heavy chairs and benches and desks and tables and kill everyone. Including Tarce, Taro, and me.

  “The letters were addressed to five recipients, and included inducements to turn honourable and loyal people against the Crown.”

  “What people?” Tarce asked.

  Did he really think he would get an useful answer?

  “Interrupting the proceedings will be of no benefit to you.”

  Clearly nothing would be of benefit to him.

  “Do you deny being in the company of Lord Elken eight days ago?”

  “No.”

  “A known traitor.”

  “I don’t know of any accusations made against him.”

  “The allegations were filed against him two days ago.”

  From the look of his beard, Tarce had been incarcerated longer than that.

  I could kill people with the black cloud cast, much as the idea repulsed me. That would definitely cause a distraction, while keeping Taro, Tarce, and me untouched.

  I was appalled my mind could work that way. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “Do you admit to being in the company of Lady Denden twenty-one days ago?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  Of course he didn’t remember that far back. Who would, barring some enormous unusual event?

  “How convenient,” the Minister drawled. “She spoke of being in your company that night.”

  This time the Minister paused, obviously waiting for Tarce to respond.

  He clearly had no idea what to say. “All right.”

  “So you don’t deny it.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “She has been found to be engaging in treasonous activities as well. Your choice of associates has been unfortunate.”

  I no longer believed that people should be judged by their acquaintances. I had kept company with criminals, and it hadn’t been voluntary. Usually.

  “Do you admit to meeting with Lady Isle, Lady Tressing, Lord Linor, and the Mi
nister of Waterworks – ”

  So that was what had happened to the last one.

  “ – for the purpose of luring others into a conspiracy to oppose the passing of the River Laws?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Lord Linor states otherwise.” The Minister gestured at a young man sitting at one of the desks surrounding the Emperor. The man’s head was bowed so he could avoid looking anyone in the eye.

  He’d lied to save his own life, throwing Tarce at the Emperor, I was sure of it. Coward.

  “Lord Linor also informed us you made an attempt on his life –”

  “No!”

  “– with an idol of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Constia. This is a disgusting violation of a Crown image.”

  “That never happened.”

  “You are calling a member of our Council a liar?”

  “You are calling me a liar.”

  “And who are you?” the Minister sneered. “The useless lackey of a defiant titleholder, a titleholder who is too arrogant to come to the Council to show proper obeisance to our Emperor. She banished you here, to rid herself of you while throwing dirt in the face of the Emperor himself.”

  I hoped Tarce knew that wasn’t true. Fiona had sent him to Erstwhile to do a difficult job, and she had felt he was doing it well.

  “And because you’re weak and desperate for relevance and importance in the eyes of virtually anyone else, you sought the respect of those striving to undermine the Emperor’s true and noble authority.” The Minister cocked her head to one side. “One would almost pity you, but weakness is not a defence under the law.”

  Was there currently any defence under the law?

  “And, coincidentally, the idol is now missing.”

  Tarce clenched his teeth briefly before saying, “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “That idol is over forty years old, created by one of the finest craftsmen of the time. How could you think you would get away with such a theft?”

  “I did not – ”

  “And then there is the vile rape of Lord McCon.”

  “I’ve never raped anyone!” Tarce objected.

  Everyone knew his protests were pointless, but if he said nothing, it was as good as admitting responsibility for the crimes.

  “Stand, Source Shintaro Karish.”

  There was a rustle of words and clothing as everyone acknowledged Taro’s presence with their attention.

  Taro stood with no hesitation, no apparent reluctance. Almost as though he were eager to do as he was bid.

  “You were present for Lady Westsea’s scandalous assault on Lord Kent, his people, and his estate, were you not?”

  Kent had assaulted her first. Fiona’s closest neighbour, he had begun his attempt to acquire the Westsea estate through an offer of purchase, and then an offer of marriage. When those were firmly refused, he had attacked the resources of her tenants, to undermine Fiona’s relations with them and their trust in her. Then he had sent people, fighters and casters, to attack her tenants directly.

  Fiona had had to do something. She couldn’t let the violations continue until the estate and everyone on it were destroyed. So, as permitted by old, almost forgotten laws, Fiona had led her tenants, armed with nothing more than farming, fishing, and whaling tools, into an actual physical battle against Kent and his tenants.

  It had been horrifying and barbaric. Still, looking back, I couldn’t think of what might have been an effective alternative.

  I didn’t understand why Fiona’s actions were now considered scandalous. Shortly after the whole bloody affair, the Emperor had given the Kent estate to her. None of us knew why, as the Emperor had made clear his dislike of Fiona, but surely it hadn’t been part of some trap to be sprung five years later. Who could plan that far in advance?

  “Yes, Your Eminence,” said Taro.

  “In fact, you participated in this assault, did you not?”

  “Yes, Your Eminence.”

  “Are you aware that this was a grave violation of the law? You were neither a servant nor a tenant of Lady Westsea. She had no right to include you, and you had no right to follow her actions.”

  Huh. I’d never considered that possibility.

  “However, we concede that you must obey the commandments of the highest titleholder in your sphere.”

  Not true, in theory.

  “We must commend you on your adept handling of what was truly a delicate and difficult situation.”

  It had been difficult. I didn’t know about delicate, though. There hadn’t been time for a thorough examination of any alternatives.

  “You are therefore forgiven for your illegal activities.”

  Taro bowed. “Thank you, You Eminence.”

  I blew out a breath of relief. Taro wasn’t going to be subjected to a travesty of a trial.

  “However, we have been told Lord Tarce has no excuse for his attempted assault on Lord Kent.”

  Tarce hadn’t assaulted Kent. He had merely gone to his manor to warn him Fiona’s family would be supporting her, to order him to stand down. He had been beaten nearly to death as a result, and I was pretty sure it was only due to Browne’s incredible skill that he had survived. Even that hadn’t been enough to cure him of his limp.

  His beating had been Fiona’s last line, the event that had pushed her into action.

  “Lord Tarce is not a titleholder himself, and we know he wasn’t ordered by the titleholder to attack Kent.”

  How the hell did they know that? Who had told them? Had there been a mole among Fiona’s people way back then?

  “This is true, isn’t it, Source Karish?”

  A long pause.

  I had no idea what he should say.

  Taro said at last, “I don’t know, Your Eminence.”

  This brought on a new wave of whispering, and my heart started pounding. Taro had given them an answer they didn’t like. What would be the consequences?

  “Silence,” the Minister ordered, and everyone shut up. She delivered a hard look on Taro. “I remind you, Source Karish, that in this place, above all others, the truth must always be spoken.”

  Such bold hypocrisy.

  “Your Eminence,” said Taro. “Her Ladyship would never discuss such important matters with me.” He smiled wryly. “Everyone knows I don’t have the mind for that kind of thing.”

  The Minister stared at him for a long moment. Then she looked up at the Emperor.

  The Emperor gave her a slight nod.

  “Very well,” said the Minister. “This means, of course, that you can’t attest to Lord Tarce’s innocence.”

  Ah hell. Didn’t see that coming.

  Taro kept all elements of dismay from his expression and his voice. Good lad. “No, Your Eminence.”

  “You may sit.”

  Thank Zaire. The more questions Taro was asked, the more likely he would be trapped into saying something damning. For both Tarce and himself.

  “It is unfortunate that Source Karish can’t speak to Lord Tarce’s ignoble actions,” said the Minister. “But given the crimes committed by Lord Tarce upon his arrival to Erstwhile, we can only assume he committed the crime of assaulting Lord Kent as well.”

  Of course.

  “Council,” said the Minister. “Is Lord Tarce Yuno Det Keplar culpable for these crimes?”

  The man in the highest and most left of the seats called out, “Culpable on all allegations.”

  Of course.

  The woman beside him announced, “Culpable on all allegations.”

  As did the woman beside her. And on it went.

  I knew everyone had already made their minds up before they’d entered the room, that probably no one really had a choice, that they didn’t dare to disagree with Gifford, but that didn’t keep me from hoping that at least one person would stand up against this disgusting subversion of the law.

  No one did.

  I glared at Lord Linor. I really wanted to walk over to him and slap the cowardice
out of him.

  The Minister announced, “Lord Tarce Yuno Det Keplar, you have been found cupable for all allegations. You will be executed and your goods shall be repossessed by the Crown. And thus we demonstrate the justice and stability of our Imperial Majesty’s reign.”

  I closed my eyes. I couldn’t let this happen. I had no idea how to stop it.

  “Thank you all for the dedicated performance of your duty,” the Minister said to those sitting in the desks around her. “This trial is closed. The condemned may be removed.”

  The Guards were even rougher with Tarce while dragging him out of the room. Tarce’s face was frozen, his eyes wide. He was living a nightmare.

  What were we going to do?

  Once Tarce was out of the room, everyone stood as the Emperor and Lady Green left. Then the Council members were released. It was only once the last had left the room that the rest of us were allowed to go.

  There was no way we could let Fiona’s brother die, but we didn’t know when he was going to be executed, or where he was being kept in the meantime. And we didn’t have the kind of freedom to move around as we’d had in earlier times. We couldn’t hunt him down unnoticed.

  We could think of nothing to do but go back to our chambers, where I sprawled in a chair and stared up at the ceiling and Taro paced with his hands in his hair.

  There was a knock on the door. I covered my eyes and groaned. I didn’t want to deal with anyone.

  I heard Taro open the door, and I uncovered my eyes, straightening in my chair. A stocky middle-aged woman with thinning silver hair and large brown eyes stood in the hall. She bowed. “Lord Shintaro.”

  He hated it when people called him that.

  “I am Solicitor Natson.” She looked beyond him to me. “May I speak with Shield Mallorough?”

  “Of course. Come in.”

  I held back a sigh and stood. I was tired. I wanted to be left alone to think. Only I couldn’t think profitably.

  The woman seemed nervous, shifting her feet, continually adjusting her grip on the thick black book she was holding. It was a newly constructed book. I could smell the dye of the leather.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you. And I’m terribly, terribly sorry about Lord Tarce.” She glanced back at Taro. “I know he is family.”