by Matt Gilbert
But was he a Meite? Perhaps, but it seemed unlikely. She’d never thought of sorcerers as being inclined to biting wit and sarcasm, and certainly not as dirty old men flirting with women half their age. A proper sorcerer would be reading musty books and making pacts with demons or some such.
Maralena was the next to arrive. Her jewels were gone now, as was her other finery. She had chosen a simple brown tunic and pants with no adornment at all. That’s supposed to make you look unassuming, eh? Are they that stupid? Maralena was accompanied by Olemus Freth, who was as rich as an old dragon and twice as fat. Mei, is he wearing a tent? Sadrina Veril, the socialite, chattered at them from behind, festooned in rubies and red silks, and sporting a ridiculous hat with pink feathers that rose a foot above her head. Kariana tittered to herself, remembering that Prandil had once editorialized about Sadrina: “She might easily be replaced by a mannequin. It would serve just as well for displaying clothes and jewelry, and would be better company by far. At least a mannequin could be trusted to keep its mouth shut.” They ignored her completely as they took their seats as far away from the others as possible. Meites? Not a chance.
Lucreta Strall and Maklin Yorn arrived shortly thereafter. House Strall was chiefly concerned with education in Nihlos, and Lucreta was the embodiment of the notion, the archetypical blue-haired, frumpily dressed teacher with a blue-sequined handbag shaped like a fish. She waved at Kariana, and Kariana felt compelled to return the ridiculous gesture. Maklin, dressed in a black tunic and pants, moved slowly, a combination of his age and his intent focus on his ever-present sketchbook. His pace was a simple cycle: every few steps, he stopped, looked confused, then enlightened, and scribbled something, then started moving again. He didn’t even look in Kariana’s direction. She might have taken offense to it as a snub, save for the fact that it would be dishonest to accuse him of ignoring her. It was more the case that he was not even aware of her existence. Meites? Impossible.
Last, and five minutes late, came Maranath Aswan, looking haggard and disheveled. The eldest of the elders, he moved ever so slowly, his long beard swaying as he struggled forward, his gnarled hand gripping his cane as a lifeline. Mei, did he even bother to change clothes for the trial? Or bathe? She sighed with relief. Not so many Meites after all! Perhaps it was all a lie that Maralena had cooked up to frighten her.
But as Maranath passed and looked her way, meeting her gaze, she felt her breath catch in her throat. His eyes bored into her from beneath his gray brows, fire and ice, brooding, brilliant blue, so full of life that it made her feel terribly old and weak. They were the eyes of a child!
He’s faking it. She didn’t know the source of that notion, but she knew it was true. Old and gnarled, yes, but he doesn’t need that cane. He doesn’t need anything!
Maranath smiled at her a moment, then turned and took a seat next to Ariano. Mei! He knows I know!
In the end, it hardly mattered. He would be with her or against her, and she would just have to play the hand she had been dealt. Feeling slightly sick, she rose, cleared her throat, and called out, “This meeting will come to order. Caelwen, please seal the room.”
Caelwen entered from outside and hauled on the heavy doors. He cast a glare of rank disapproval her way, no doubt in regard to her ‘Plan B’ precautions. Once the doors were closed, a contingent of a hundred guardsmen would take up position and await her orders. If things went really awry, that should be more than enough to handle even a few sorcerers. She just hoped Caelwen’s overdeveloped sense of duty would keep him from betraying her secret. There was some slight risk to his father’s safety if it blew up in her face, but it might very well be a matter of her saving his life with this scheme. She was fairly certain Caelwen would keep quiet. It was just a precaution, after all.
The elders gradually grew silent, save for Sadrina, who went right on nattering away to Olemus. Polus turned toward her and fixed her with a withering glare, and she blanched and fell silent.
“There’s no way to pretty this up,” Kariana said, repeating the words she had practiced with Maralena. “You all know the situation by now. I called this closed session because I intend to execute the foreign agent as a spy, and Aiul of House Amrath for high treason.” She looked pointedly at Narelki, hoping to see a reaction, but Narelki’s face remained a stone mask. The rest of the elders murmured amongst themselves for several moments, and Kariana stood by, waiting for the battle to begin in earnest.
Polus Luvox was the first to speak. He rose and called out, “Insufferable fool! Our ancient enemies return to Nihlos, and you told us nothing? You told me nothing? By rights, we should have you on trial here!”
Kariana blinked a few times. That was unexpected. “It seemed like a good idea at the time?” She looked to Maralena to see the Elder palming her face. I guess that was the wrong thing to say.
Prandil tittered at this. “Do you believe in fairies, too, I wonder?”
“It was a mistake, in retrospect. All leaders make them from time to time.” There, better. She’s looking less like she’s having a stroke, now.
Prandil shook his head in amusement. “You seem to be going for some sort of record here.”
Kariana clenched her jaw, struggling not to respond in anger. “Be that as it may, I am trying to rectify those mistakes. That is why we are here.” There. That’s sounds more like father. I can do this.
Prandil folded his arms across his chest and nodded, grinning like a fool. “Oh, indeed. It shall be quite interesting seeing what form that takes.”
Narelki took that moment to rise, and a hush fell over the courtroom. House Amrath was well respected, and Narelki doubly so. Kariana felt as if her hate for Narelki would burn a hole through her chest, fall onto the desk, and set it on fire, but managed to control herself.
Narelki raised an eyebrow in disdain as she looked pointedly at Kariana and spoke, her voice as icy as wind blowing over a frozen lake. “This is all irrelevant. You have no authority to put any Housed citizen to death.”
“True enough,” Kariana conceded. “But this is a special case of high treason, and requires a heavy hand.”
Narelki looked around at the others, then back at Kariana and shook her head. “There is clear precedent here,” she called out in a strong, confident voice “In the case of Aswan’s Rebellion, Tasinal himself established the proper punishment: imprisonment until the offending noble bends a knee. Tasinal’s Mercy is well known to any who have actually made a study of the law.” She looked pointedly at Kariana.
Maranath rose, and Kariana felt herself flinch inwardly. What would the Meite say?
The old man wobbled on his cane a moment, then spoke, his voice strong and gravely, at odds with his age. “Narelki is quite correct. This is basic history. My own house would not even exist were it not for Tasinal’s Mercy.”
Maralena, grinning, called out, “I’m not so sure that’s a compelling argument.” Laughter erupted from the rest of the elders.
“Indeed!” Prandil added, chuckling. “The lot of them are crotchety old men waving canes about and provoking scandals. They’re born that way!”
Maranath took their barbs with good humor, chuckling. “Aye, and House Idlic has never once provoked scandal!”
Prandil raised a hand to his cheek in feigned shock. “Never!”
Maranath aped a scowl and waved his cane at Prandil. “I’m not so old that I can’t thrash you for insolence, pup! Now leave an old man to speak without heckling, if you have it in you.”
Prandil mimed zipping his lips shut and nodded vigorously.
“All humor aside,” Maranath continued, “This notion of executing a noble is simply not legal, and we all know it.”
Kariana shook her head in vigorous denial. Don’t screw this up. Play it like she told you! “This case is not the same. Aswan led an internal rebellion. Aiul has conspired with foreign nationals. This is not rebellion, it is treason, a much higher crime, and one for which there is no precedent.”
Kariana
smiled to see Narelki’s jaw clench.
Maranath grunted loudly. “Tasinal was not so foolish as to force his loyal subjects into such decisions.”
The rest of the elders once again broke into debate, arguing the merits of the points raised. Polus, at last, rose to speak with their consensus. “We will not judge these men without hearing them speak. Bring them before us and let them account for themselves. Then we will decide if you have the right of things.”
Kariana nodded. “Very well. Caelwen, bring in the prisoners.” She would have preferred carte blanche, but Maralena had told her to expect this.
Caelwen turned and opened one of the double doors. “Bring them in.”
The Southlander and Aiul, flanked by four guards, entered the courtroom in chains, still wearing the bloody clothes in which they had been captured. They slowly made their way forward, their movement restricted by hobbles. The Southlander stood at attention before the elders, while Aiul stood slump shouldered, head bowed in shame. Caelwen quickly ushered the guards out again, then closed the doors and took up station behind the prisoners.
Kariana cleared her throat and spoke. “Here stand before you a Southlander spy and a traitor who conspired with them to murder me and conquer this city.” She could feel her nostrils flaring as she spoke. Yes, very indignant! That should sell it well. “What can either of these wretches possibly tell you that will vindicate them? What can this foreigner do but bring death upon us if he is released? I tell you they must die!”
The Southlander’s eyes grew wide, and he struggled at his bonds. “I deny this court! Barbarians cannot sit in judgment of civilized men!”
Caelwen gave Sandilianus a cuff to the ear. “The prisoner will not speak unless spoken to.”
Sandilianus turned and spat at him. “You promised us justice! You are a cowardly, lying dog! Elgar take you!”
Caelwen, his face carefully blank, raised his fist again, but Maranath called out, “Let him speak.” Caelwen lowered his fist and nodded.
Maranath looked down at the prisoner, summing him up. “What is your name, Southlander?”
Sandilianus stood to attention again. “I am Centurion Sandilianus Abu al Khayr, officer in Prince Philip’s personal retinue, serving under Tribune Brutus Samir, and loyal servant to Ilaweh.”
“A warrior, you say?”
“Take these chains from me and I will do more than say it.”
Maranath chuckled and shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re asking, boy.” Kariana felt a cold chill run up her spine. The sorcerer was taunting him! “If you are no spy, and you did not come here for war, then why come at all?”
“We are explorers,” Sandilianus answered. “We followed Yazid Valerian, a holy man, on a quest to find an ancient evil.” He stared pointedly at Kariana. “But evil found Yazid, instead.”
Maranath waved his hand impatiently. “Yes, yes, we know the story. She is an imbecile, that much is established. But what is the ancient evil you speak of?”
Sandilianus shook his head. “I can say no more.”
Polus rose and called out, “Not even to save your life?”
Sandilianus shook his head again. “I am a warrior. I am already dead.”
Polus glared at Kariana. “This man is no spy.”
Kariana leapt to her feet in outrage. “Of course he is! And he must be put to death as one! He cannot be allowed to communicate our weakness to his people or we are doomed!”
“We did not hide our faces or skulk about!” Sandilianus shouted. “Not once we knew who we were dealing with. We approached your men openly, and we were attacked and murdered!”
“You lie!” Kariana cried, pounding her fist on her desk. “You hid yourself under hoods and cloaks and slipped into this very building to murder me!”
Sandilianus jerked at the chains who bound his hands, as if he might break them and use them to strangle her. “By then we were at war, a war you began with us! There is no dishonor in surprising an open enemy! I deserve ransom, or at least an honorable death. I am no spy!”
Maranath sighed and turned back to the other elders. “This Empress is out of control. I propose we remove her.”
Prandil chuckled. “Oh, Maranath, always so serious! She has spunk!”
Maranath did not smile. “No, I think we have made a mistake putting her on the throne.”
“Just so,” Polus agreed, his face stern and unforgiving. “This has gone beyond incompetence and well into power madness. What she proposes isn’t merely idiocy and dishonor, is an outright act of war against a people who can in all likelihood raze Nihlos if provoked. I stand with Maranath.”
Kariana was seething. She couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. She pointed a finger of accusation at Maranath and shouted, “Bold words from a criminal, Meite!” If she was wrong, it was going to be a disaster, but it already was. She had little to lose.
Maranath looked at her with a raised eyebrow for a moment, then began to laugh softly, his beard quivering, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Mei. Prandil may have a point, for once. We underestimate you, don’t we, my dear?”
Kariana turned to Polus. “Is that not a clear confession in open court? You stand with a criminal?”
Polus sneered his disgust at her, shaking his head sadly. “The children are so weak these days, and ignorant.” Lucreta squirmed uncomfortably in her seat as he looked her way for a moment, then turned back to Kariana. “Meites do not recognize law when it conflicts with their will. The law exists only to keep fools from dabbling.”
Kariana felt her jaw go slack as she looked about at the rest of the elders, most of whom were nodding in agreement. Maralena, pale faced and wide eyed, was gesturing at her not to go down this path, but it was simply too late. “Mei! All of you? You’re all a part of this?”
“She was far too young to have been given the crown,” noted Lucreta.
“And too ignorant,” Polus shot back at her.
Lucreta seemed to shrink a bit at the accusation, but muttered, “It was how Tasinalt wanted things.”
Olemus nodded. “Untrained and weak, as I told you all at the start of it. It was a reckless decision.”
“Dont talk about me like I'm not here!” Kariana commanded. This was all spinning out of control!
“You would have us speak to you?” asked Ariano, her soft, almost musical voice at odds with her wizened, shrunken features. “I seem to recall that it was you who chose to ignore me when last we spoke of meaningful things. You never answered my question about your brother.”
Mei, will that damned rumor never die? “Shut up, crone! You know nothing!”
Ariano smiled, and said, “Perhaps it is best if we are both silent, for now.”
“An easy thing for you to say, you wrinkled old whore! You’re not fighting for your life!”
Polus held up his hand for order, and again spoke to Kariana. “Nihlos has ever been ruled by those with the will to do so. Laws are for those who lack initiative.”
Prandil tittered, then jeered “It must gall her to know the bitter truth, that her life is a great, self inflicted delusion.”
Kariana was mildly heartened to see Caelwen’s cool demeanor slip away as he glared daggers at his father. For once, she felt some empathy for her guardian. Corruption everywhere! But unlike Caelwen, she was flexible. She could play this game. She just needed to learn the rules, form some strategies. If they have no law, then neither do I.
“I have plenty of initiative,” she growled. ”I think when we are done here, I shall make it my goal to root out these criminals and put them all to the sword!”
At this, the chamber erupted in reaction from all save Maklin, who was still busily scratching away at his pad, oblivious. Maralena again looked as if she might be close to having a stroke. Sadrina cackled and punched her in the arm. Olemus rolled his eyes. Prandil, Maranath, and Polus all laughed out loud, and everyone else snickered softly.
Prandil wiped tears from his eyes and spoke for them all. “You barely
survived this one’s wrath,” he said, pointing to Aiul. “You think you would weather Meite assassins?” Prandil shook his head, still laughing. “I like this empress. She’s amusing. After we spank her, I say we return her to the throne.”
“Don’t mock me!” Kariana fumed.
Prandil’s smile vanished and his eyes grew dark with anger. “I do what I will, child,” he answered, the humor gone from his voice. “You would do well to remember that.”
Kariana had a sinking feeling that she had just uncovered another Meite.
Maralena rose to her feet, almost stumbling. “Mind your tongue, fool, before you bring ruin on us all!”
Ariano smiled her sickeningly sweet smile again. “Aye. It is dangerous to antagonize hidden enemies.”
Kariana could scarcely breathe. The throbbing in her head felt as if a spike were being driven into her skull. She was screwed, totally and utterly fucked beyond all repair. It was freeing, in a way, the realization that she had absolutely nothing left to lose. “It’s dangerous to back desperate people into corners, too!”
Maralena’s eyes grew wide as she looked from Kariana to Caelwen standing at the entrance, then back again. She’s worked it out! Good for her! Oh, well, they’ll all know soon enough. The matriarch of House Prosin leapt to her feet and shouted, “Mei! You fool! Don’t!”
Kariana smiled and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Guards!”
The contingent of armed men standing outside responded immediately. The courtroom doors were nearly torn from their hinges as the guards burst into the room, weapons drawn. Caelwen drew his own weapon, but instead of joining them, he stood motionless, obviously conflicted. Kariana smirked at his confusion. It served him right, always being so smug and cocksure.
Her amusement was short lived, however. Polus shouted to his son, “Stand down and secure the prisoners!” She noted with detached amusement that Caelwen’s duty to his father was likely the only handhold on sanity the poor wretch had left.