When they were alone, Skagi sat down next to Ashok and leaned against the wall. “Well, you know how to attract the most attention, I’ll give you that,” he said.
Cree put a waterskin in front of Ashok’s mouth. He tipped it up and let him drink deeply. Ashok had never tasted anything so sweet and cold. He started to feel stronger, and his head was beginning to clear.
“How long has it been?” he said.
“Since they put you in the dark? Three days,” Skagi said. “We thought you’d be in better shape than you are. Uwan thought so too. He was pretty upset when he saw you.”
“Uwan was in my cell?” Ashok said. He had no memory of the leader being with him since he’d made his confession. “What happened to Ilvani?”
“She’s waiting for us at the top,” Cree said.
On hearing that, Ashok stood. “Let’s go,” he said.
“We can take some time,” Cree said. “Uwan told us to be certain you were strong enough to make it to the top.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ashok said. “We all know what the outcome will be. Let’s get it over with.”
Reluctantly, Skagi and Cree fell into step beside him, and they started the climb. Ashok had never been bothered before by the height or the hundreds of steps that wound up the towers, but that time he felt each burning step as he pulled himself slowly up the risers. Looking down made it worse as it forced him to count each step. He tried looking up, but the effect was so dizzying he had to stop and clear his head. Cree and Skagi steadied him, and they went on.
After walking in silence for a time, Ashok said, “Why did you come?”
“Uwan asked us,” Cree said. “He wanted you to see some friendly faces.”
“Is that true?” Ashok said. He caught himself holding his breath, hoping. “Is that what you are?”
Skagi sighed. “We were unfriendly for a while—would have been a lot easier if you’d told us what you knew in those caves.”
“I know,” Ashok said. “It was selfish, and it almost got us killed.”
Cree nodded, acknowledging the words. Skagi said, “But when we talked about it—understand, I don’t intend to admit this more than once—we realized you were the only reason we made it out of there alive. You picked your side, and that’s good enough for us.”
“We aren’t the only ones who feel that way,” Cree said. “Most of the military feels you should receive clemency, but then there are the Beshabans and the few Sharrans that have come out of their holes to protest that you should be executed. Vedoran stands with the Beshabans now, and shouts loudest. But there’s been”—Ashok thought Cree sounded smug—“a development nobody expected.”
“What is it?” Ashok asked.
“No time; we’re here,” Skagi said. He looked at Ashok warily. “If I leave the hood off, will you promise to behave? I’d hate to have to chase you outside the walls again.”
Ashok smiled briefly at the memory. “I’ve got nothing to run from anymore.”
At the tower summit, the wind howled as Ashok had never heard it before. He had to bend into the wind to move forward. Lightning from Tower Makthar’s spikes played above their heads and struck the stone spikes in irregular intervals. The air was charged and smelled of fire. The shadows seemed close and black like hovering demons.
Across the tower from them stood several figures, including Uwan and Ilvani beside him. Ashok had to look twice before he recognized the witch.
She was dressed in a simple, long-sleeved black dress, and her hair was tied tightly at the back of her head. She wore a long black cloak with an overlay of silver chains, and at her belt she wore her green satchel. Her hand kept straying to it as if for comfort. She glanced at him and quickly looked away.
Uwan wore a neutral expression as Ashok, Skagi and Cree came across the tower to stand before him. He had his greatsword in his hands, its point downward between his spread feet. Next to him, but clearly apart, stood Vedoran and a group of male and female shadar-kai. Ashok didn’t know them, but he saw the holy symbols they wore.
Beshaba and Shar—goddesses of misfortune and night. To my left stands oblivion, Ashok thought, and to my right salvation. He stepped away from Cree and Skagi and approached both groups.
Below them, the crowd noise swelled to a rumbling thunder. A storm created by the shadar-kai was about to burst.
Uwan spoke, and his voice was magically deepened, amplified to carry across the city. “I call upon you, shadar-kai of Ikemmu, to hear evidence against Ashok, a shadar-kai who is accused of treason and willful deceit of the city of Ikemmu and its citizens. I call upon Vedoran to stand as accuser and to present evidence for his claim. Step forward, Vedoran.”
Vedoran came forward, and the contingent of clerics followed close behind him. He approached Uwan, and Ashok could see that something was definitely amiss. Vedoran looked agitated, more so than Ashok had ever seen him. When Chanoch had disobeyed orders, he hadn’t looked so undone. Vedoran turned a black glare on Ilvani as he approached, but the witch stared through him as if he were made of smoke.
“My Lord Uwan,” Vedoran said, and his voice too was amplified to carry. Ashok could see it took all his willpower to spit the words of respect for the whole city to hear. “I regret to say that I am unable to produce evidence against Ashok.”
Uwan looked grave. “You bring a serious accusation to bear against your fellow shadar-kai. I trust you would not waste our time with pretenses?”
“I would not, my Lord,” Vedoran said. He stared at Ilvani with pure hatred, so intense that Ashok and Uwan each took a step forward. Skagi came forward and put a hand on Ashok’s shoulder to hold him back.
“The evidence which I intended to present to you has been lost,” Vedoran continued, “taken, though I have no proof of that claim either, save my word.”
“Your word the city once held good,” Uwan said, “but now it is called into question. The claims you make are substantial, yet they go unsupported. Based on the lack of evidence, what judgment can I hand down?”
Cheers and anger came from the crowd, and Vedoran didn’t immediately answer. Behind him, one of the Beshabans, a man, stepped forward.
“My Lord Uwan, if I may?” he said.
Uwan nodded. “Speak, Traedis, servant of Beshaba,” he said.
“The evidence, or lack thereof, has been rendered moot by the accused’s own confession. From his lips you heard the story of his deception in the caves where our people were being tortured and butchered. You heard him say that he planned to give vital information about the defenses of this city to his enclave. He has confessed to all the crimes of which he stands accused. Nothing remains but sentencing.”
“We hear you, Traedis of Beshaba,” Uwan said. “Yet I would put forth the following to dispute your argument. You claim Ashok betrayed Ikemmu, yet I have here”—he reached inside his cloak and pulled out several sheets of parchment with scrawled writing in various hands—“written testimony vouching for Ashok’s character, testimony offered without coercion by no less than three shadar-kai in good standing with this city; one human merchant, Tatigan, who is known to all; and a halfling, Darnae, a prominent lady of business in the trade district. What say you to their words? They speak in praise of Ashok’s character.”
Ashok felt a swell of warmth, the first hint he’d had that there was something still alive inside him. He couldn’t read what was written on the parchment, but seeing the ink Darnae and the rest had spent in his defense bolstered him as nothing else had.
“My Lord,” Traedis said, and he sounded amused, “I could produce twenty, fifty such accounts for and against the accused, simply by sifting my hand through the crowd below. The opinion of the people does not prove guilt or innocence.”
“You’re right,” Uwan said, “it does not. But these accounts are not the only testimonials I offer. You were wrong about one of your statements before, Traedis. You said that Ashok confessed to all the crimes of which he was accused.”
“That i
s so,” Traedis said.
“I submit that the accused did not confess to the murder of Natan, servant of Tempus,” Uwan said. He looked at Ashok and addressed him for the first time. “Is this correct?”
“It is,” Ashok said. “I didn’t murder Natan.” He looked at Ilvani as he said it, but she ignored him. She was a wax doll, only half present for the proceedings.
“Very well,” Uwan said. “Ikemmu has heard from Vedoran, and Traedis of Beshaba, and from the accused himself. There is one among us who has yet to speak.” Uwan turned to Ilvani, and the neutral mask he wore cracked just enough to show his uncertainty. He was not sure what was going to happen next, Ashok thought. None of them were. The collective at the top of the tower held its breath as Ilvani stepped to the fore.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
ILVANI CLOSED HER EYES, AND WHEN SHE OPENED THEM IT WAS AS if she’d drifted back down into her body from some other place she’d been. She gazed at all of them in turn, even Ashok. But when she spoke, her eyes were on the crowd.
“I address the shadar-kai of Ikemmu,” she said, in a voice that magically enhanced made her seem like an immense entity occupying a tiny, fragile body. “I come to offer my testimony in defense of Ashok, and to bring you the vision Tempus has shown me. He has come to me with the truth.”
The crowd fell into a hush at her pronouncement, but the Beshabans and the Sharrans erupted in protest at once. Vedoran looked stunned. His gaze went back and forth between Ashok and Ilvani, as if there were some private conspiracy between them that he could root out. Once again, Ilvani ignored him completely.
“My Lord,” Traedis said, and made an impatient gesture for his companions to be silent. “I must protest. With all respect to Natan’s memory, his visions were never presented as evidence in the trials of citizens. What credence can we give to—you’ll forgive me, my Lord—a madwoman?”
“You are not forgiven, Traedis, for addressing a servant of Tempus with such disrespect,” Uwan said. His hand tightened on his sword hilt. “But I will address your concerns. Natan’s visions were often used to guide this city in matters of trade and war, and in turn the city prospered. You voiced no objection at those times. Ilvani is sister to Natan. They are of the same blood and share Tempus’s favor.”
“I mean no disrespect,” said Traedis. He was growing impatient, Ashok thought, eager to have the argument dismissed before the situation slipped out of his control. “I meant only to say that perhaps Tempus’s vision may become clouded when filtered through her mind. She is blessed of Tempus and this city—I do not deny it. But she is not unaffected by the rigors of the world. They have damaged her mind. You know I speak the truth.”
“Granted,” Uwan said. His eyes were still dangerous. “But we shall hear the vision, and let all who witness be the judge of its merits.”
Ilvani had been waiting all that time, patient and serene, until the two men finished their confrontation. She continued speaking as if nothing had happened.
“Tempus showed me my brother, Natan, conversing with the shadar-kai who would be his murderer,” Ilvani said. Her voice wavered, and the calm façade almost slipped. She swallowed and went on. “They spoke as comrades. Natan trusted this shadar-kai and was betrayed. Vedoran”—she pointed an accusing finger at the sellsword, and Ashok thought he saw black energy crackling at her fingers—“killed my brother. So says Tempus, and so say I.”
The crowd below, stunned silent by Ilvani’s revelation, waited for the Beshabans to respond. Traedis bowed his head respectfully to Ilvani. She made no response.
“Your accusation is heard,” Traedis said, “but my objection to its use as evidence stands. The only indisputable proof we have that a crime was committed is Ashok’s confession. My Lord, we must act upon it, or you make a mockery of justice in Ikemmu.” Traedis’s voice rose, and the crowd rose with him in mixed tumult.
Uwan held up his hands and said, “Ikemmu speaks, and you are heard. I will pass my judgment and you, Traedis of Beshaba, will declare its merit.”
Traedis bowed, and the rest of the Beshabans and Sharrans murmured their assent. Ashok faced Uwan while Skagi and Cree stood behind him.
The leader of Ikemmu approached, and when he spoke to Ashok the words came without magic, so that only Ashok and his companions heard them.
“I was wrong,” Uwan said. “I have wronged you and this city, and on your shoulders rest the weight of those mistakes.” He looked Ashok in the eyes. “But you are stronger than you know. Tempus believes you can bear this burden, and so do I. I believe in you.”
He turned to the crowd, and his voice rose again in judgment. “On the weight of Ashok’s confession we condemn him to the shadows.”
The crowd exploded. Some of their reaction was excited applause, but there was also a strong uproar of disapproval.
Traedis smiled in satisfaction and said, “You are wise, my Lord Uwan.”
Uwan looked at the cleric and the rest of the Beshabans. He spoke over the crowd. “There will be a provision to the sentence.”
Traedis’s smile froze on his face. Vedoran seethed in quiet rage, though only Ashok was paying attention to him.
“We will hear the provision,” Traedis said neutrally.
“In light of Ashok’s service to Ikemmu, we offer him this one chance to redeem himself and earn the city’s forgiveness,” Uwan said. He glanced meaningfully at Ashok. “When Chanoch was sentenced to the shadows, ten days elapsed before Tempus claimed him. I give this fate to Ashok. If, after ten days, Tempus has not claimed his soul, Ashok will be forgiven by the gods and by this city. He will be set free.”
Traedis considered for a breath, then stepped back to confer with the other clerics. Several of them glanced at Ashok, their gazes accusing.
“Look at them. They’re laying odds on how long you’ll last,” Skagi muttered.
“The way I feel right now, even I wouldn’t bet on me,” Ashok said.
Vedoran went to speak to Traedis. Ashok couldn’t understand what was said, but Vedoran gestured angrily with his hands, and his expression got blacker with each passing breath. Finally he stalked off by himself, and Traedis turned to address Uwan again.
“We agree to your terms, Lord Uwan,” Traedis said. Amid the ensuing roar of the crowd, he added, in a voice that did not magically carry from the tower, “You take a grave risk, my Lord. If the accused does not survive the ten days, it will send a powerful message that Tempus’s might in Ikemmu is not infallible. If His emissary falls, who might be next?”
Beside him, Ashok felt Skagi and Cree stiffen. Cree went for his katar, but Uwan barked, “Peace. This is a seat of judgment. No violence will touch this place.” He glared at Traedis. “You have your terms. Go and take your brethren. The sentence will begin at once.”
One by one, the Beshabans and Sharrans went down. Vedoran went to Traedis, and it was clear the two were arguing again as they left.
Ilvani went to the edge of the tower and looked down. Uwan went to stand beside her. Skagi and Cree led Ashok away.
When they got to the bottom of the tower, Ashok’s guards were waiting to escort him, but Skagi waved them off. “We’ll take him,” he said.
Outside Makthar, the crowd had mostly dispersed—helped along, Ashok thought, by the presence of dozens of ranking warriors of Ikemmu’s military. Ashok was grateful for their presence. He didn’t know if he had the strength to walk through that crowd again, engulfed by such measures of adoration and hate.
The walk back to the deep tunnels was a sluggish march. Skagi and Cree were subdued; Ashok knew they were drawing out the journey as much as possible, giving him a chance to work his muscles and gain a hold on the world. He would need it.
They passed the Camborr training grounds and the paddock where the nightmare had scorched the earth and where Ashok had first learned to ride the magnificent beast. He wondered where the nightmare was now, and if it had found a new master, one more bloodthirsty than he.
Ol
ra passed by them on her way out of the tunnels. She said nothing, but her eyes met Ashok’s, and she nodded. Her arm brushed his and then she was gone.
They stopped at the cave entrance, and Ashok turned for what he thought could be his last look at the city of towers.
The city appeared before him as it had in the portrait Ilvani had painted. The watching eye stared down at the city, and the carved, winged humanoids cavorted on the outside of the towers. Below them, the shadar-kai and the other races went back to their daily business in the city they’d adopted from their winged watchers.
Whether they were Tempus’s angels or the last pictures of a dead race, Ashok would never know. But he could feel their presence. He thought that must be legacy enough.
“I’m ready,” he told the brothers, and walked with them into the dark.
The guards at the door chained Ashok in his cell and put the hood back over his face. Skagi and Cree had refused those duties, but they stayed with him after the guards left. Ashok heard Skagi scuffing his boots against the floor restlessly. Cree was his normal, utterly silent self, but Ashok felt the weight of his concern.
“I’ll be all right,” Ashok told them.
“ ’Course you will,” Skagi said. “We ever say you wouldn’t be?”
“He was right, you know,” Cree said. “What Uwan told you—remember it. You’ll be the one to determine your fate.”
“Uwan said it’s up to Tempus,” Ashok said.
“I don’t think so,” Cree said. “Not this time. You live by your own will, or you’ll give yourself to the shadows.” He touched Ashok’s shoulder. “But the gods be with you anyway, my friend.”
Skagi coughed and patted his arm awkwardly. “Be well,” he said.
Then they were gone, and Ashok settled into the darkness for a long, silent vigil.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
VEDORAN STOOD IN THE HALF-RUIN OF THE OLD HOUSE AND TRIED to keep from killing Traedis where he stood.
“You betrayed me,” he said. “Ashok lives.”
Unbroken Chain Page 28