WINDWEEPER

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WINDWEEPER Page 18

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo


  "Read it."

  He sighed. What difference did it make if he read it or not? He would sign it anyway. He reached for the quill, but it was held away from him.

  "I must insist you read it before I allow you to sign it."

  He lifted the top portion of the page away from the desk and scanned the writing. He closed his eyes when he was through, let out a tired, weary sigh, opened his eyes again. He patiently held out his hand for the quill.

  "You have read it?"

  He nodded.

  "And understand?"

  Again the silent nod.

  The quill was laid in his hand. He carefully scrawled his name along the bottom, then put his hands in his lap and lowered his head.

  The door opened, the guard removed the desk, and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

  "The trial will convene in less than an hour. Is there anything you wish to say to me?"

  He raised his head, focused on the man's face. What was there left to say?

  His visitor bent over him, took his chin in a tender grip. "You will be tried in open court."

  He spoke for the first time in two days. "And found guilty."

  "Then punished."

  A fleeting smile touched his dry lips. "I know you will enjoy watching that, Kaileel."

  Kaileel Tohre blinked. His fingers moved up the Prince's cheek and caressed him.

  "I loved you," the High Priest swore. "I love you more than you will ever know, and you spurned me. Spat on me. But even so, I will give you one more chance. Just one. All you need do is say the word. If you were but to accept me, to accept what I can offer you…"

  Conar slowly shook his head, reached up to take the man's hand from his face. He held the hand in his own as gently as though it were Liza's. "I would rather die."

  "You just might."

  His voice was more dead than alive as he answered. "Leave me alone, Kaileel. For once, just leave me alone." He squeezed Tohre's fingers, then released him.

  "Where you are going, you will surely be alone!" the High Priest promised before slamming out of the room.

  * * *

  The King was amazed at the difference in his son's appearance as Conar was led into the Tribunal Hall of Justice. There wasn't a mark on his face. Thankful he had said nothing to the woman sitting so rigidly beside him, he silently seethed. This was, no doubt, Tohre's doing. The bastard hadn't wanted the Tribunal, nor the young man's family, to see how horribly he had been treated. Without the physical evidence of torture, Conar's battered face, no one could claim duress.

  The King had been shown his son's confession. Even knowing the evil thing was all a lie, Gerren could not protest its authenticity until Conar, himself, had made an appearance in court.

  He should have known the Domination would never have brought Conar to these chambers the way he looked two days earlier. With brutally abused body on exhibit for all to see, the King could have called for an investigation. Now, unless Conar told the truth, the charges would make no difference. And even if he tell all, would anyone believe him since no marks attested to the fact that Conar had been horribly, savagely beaten?

  Legion closely watched his brother. Conar entered the room with shoulders slumped. Whatever had happened in the Interrogation Facility had considerably shaken the young man. He had yet to look up to see if his wife were in attendance. He stared at the floor, his hands at his side, submissive and obedient.

  Brelan's eyes narrowed. There were no livid bruises to indicate Conar had been tortured, no shambling walk that would have meant leg irons. He had been freshly shaven and barbered, his skin glowing with a recent bath; his hair was still damp, hanging in curling tendrils around the nape of his neck. It looked for all the world as if he had been well-treated, but was overcome with guilt.

  Brelan knew better.

  Hern knew better, too. Something had caused this lassitude, this spiritlessness. Conar seemed detached from what was going on, oblivious to those who sat in the benches. He wondered if the boy had been drugged.

  Liza wondered, too. She stared at her husband, willing him to look at her, at anyone; but he kept his face averted, his head down. She looked to his father.

  "He looks well enough," Gerren told her, sensing her unease.

  Brelan heard his father, but the words did not match the emotion in the man's voice. Their father had been to see Conar two nights ago and no doubt saw the results of two weeks worth of interrogation. What they were now seeing was the result of some potent healing charm. Brelan expected such a ploy and came prepared. But he had not expected Conar's quiet acquiescence. He watched Conar tremble as Liza's voice broke through a moment of silence.

  Legion understood. The confession had been extracted, no doubt, under penalty of Liza being harmed, even arrested in the so-called conspiracy against the King. If that were the case, it made sense that Conar would not seek to clear his name. A'Lex leaned over to speak in low tones with Brelan, who sat with a carefully controlled face, his chin resting on the apex of his fingers.

  Brelan nodded as Legion spoke. He knew his eldest brother was right. Liza had been threatened.

  "Will they let him give defense of himself?" Teal du Mer asked, leaning forward to whisper.

  "Why wouldn't they?" Legion asked.

  "They didn't allow Roget to," Teal answered. "They read the charges, asked him if they were true, then passed sentence. All Roget said the entire time was, "Aye."

  Hern turned. "They've got to let him speak in his own behalf. They have the confessions of the other six men implicating him in the plot. Even with that damned forged confession, they still have to give him time to tell the Tribunal why he did it." Hern's knowledge of Serenian law was almost as good as Teal's.

  "In Oceania, a man is innocent until proven guilty," Chand Wynth said bitterly from his place beside his brother Grice, who sat behind Brelan. "Here, he is guilty until proven innocent!"

  "Be quiet, Chandling!" Grice snapped. "We are here to observe, not to interfere!" A loud bang came from near the rear of the courtroom. Grice turned to see a portly man pounding on the floor with a six-foot-long quarterstaff.

  "Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear ye! This Tribunal Court of Justice is declared open!" the bailiff called. "Stand in honor of the Tribunal's arrival!"

  Those seated in the visitors' benches came to their feet as the three Tribunal judges filed into the courtroom. Their long, official rust-colored robes rustled as they took their seats on the High Bench. The bailiff struck his quarterstaff on the floor and the visitors resumed their seats.

  "This court is in session!" the bailiff cried.

  The man sitting in the center of the High Bench picked up a list of charges and began to read them to those assembled. His voice was toneless, devoid of inflection, bored. The men who flanked him kept their keen eyes on the prisoner, seemingly unaware of what was happening around him.

  The other two men on the High Bench looked past their Chief Justice and frowned at one another. They had expected more of a show.

  As the charges were read, Brelan continued to study Conar. Conar's head was still bent, his gaze on the floor. He had not looked up once. The two guards beside him were close enough to grab him if he tried to run, and he seemed much aware of their presence. Their stern faces were turned away from him, but they seemed to be nervously surveying the hall in case supporters of their prisoner dared to try to intervene.

  What are you thinking, Conar? Brelan wondered, what are you feeling?

  Conar heard himself being condemned in front of the people he loved and cared for, knowing he could not, dared not, protest his innocence. The men standing at his side had been ordered to kill him if he said one word Kaileel Tohre did not want to hear. He knew they would make it look as though he had tried to run, and the last thing he wanted was for Liza to see him cut down. As for dying, he didn't care. Something told him death would be preferable to whatever Tohre had planned.

  "Those are the charges as read," the Chief Tribunal Just
ice told those assembled as he laid down the parchment. "We are ready to hear the prisoner."

  "Conar, son of King Gerren," the bailiff shouted. "You are called to testify!"

  King Gerren lowered his head. Not Prince Conar. Not even Conar McGregor. Because of him, his son's identity had been removed, along with his surname. He would not even be allowed to take his mother's maiden name, as would an illegitimate son, since her family had been royalty, and Conar was now a commoner according to Serenian law.

  Escorted from the prisoner's box to stand before the three-member panel, Conar was asked if it was his signature on the document before the court.

  "Aye," he said softly.

  "Was this confession signed of your own free will? Without duress?"

  He wanted to shout the truth, to tell his family how much had been done to him to extract that confession, but he knew he didn't dare.

  "Aye." His voice was almost a whisper, but every person heard it.

  "Do you corroborate the charges against you, Conar?"

  He looked at Coure, the Chief Justice, and opened his mouth to speak. A low warning grunt from the guard on his left, Tymothy Kullen, made him close his lips.

  "You are not deaf, young man!" one of the Justices bellowed. "Answer these charges!"

  "Or are there others in league with you whom you are protecting?" Coure sneered.

  Conar flinched. It was a warning he knew he had better heed. For the first time, Conar turned looked at his family. He caught Liza's movement as she half-rose from her seat, saw Legion put out a hand to stop her, and turned away, squeezing his eyes shut to his pain.

  "Are these charges against you, true?"

  "Aye, they are true."

  A gasp went through those assembled. Conar heard Liza's cry of denial. He waited for the worse part to come. Intuitively he knew Coure was saving the best for last.

  "And what of the additional charge brought against you by the High Priest Kaileel Tohre?"

  "What charge?" the King shouted as he came to his feet. "There was no other charge that I saw in the confession you say he signed!"

  Coure frowned at the King. "He just admitted to signing the confession, Majesty. You were not coerced into signing, were you, Conar?"

  He wanted to be done with this before his resolve weakened. Conar flung himself at the two men who had edged closer to him, their hands hovering over their weapons.

  "Tell them the truth, son!" the King shouted.

  Liza looked at her father-in-law and knew the man was privy to information he had not given her. She tried to probe his mind, found her thoughts blocked and turned her startled eyes to Conar. He violently shook his head, not wanting her to know.

  "See, Majesty? He has denied any coercion."

  "What other charge is there?" Legion asked, also coming to his feet. He could feel a charged atmosphere in the room, something coming that he knew damned well he wasn't going to like.

  "In deference to His Majesty and Her Grace, the part of his confession pertaining to the additional charges were removed from the document before me. However," Coure paused as he shuffled through the papers, and held one out for the court to see. "This was considered to be a rather indelicate admission of still another crime." There was a stiff smile. "He would not want it read to you, Majesty."

  "What crime are you talking about?" Gerren snarled.

  Liza stood and faced the Tribunal. "If there is an additional charge, I will hear it!"

  "We did not want to embarrass you, Your Grace. Reading this will surely hurt you," Tolkan said in a soothing voice.

  "You place my husband under arrest, without the benefit of his family being able to see him for weeks on end, and you say you don't want to hurt me? I find your logic unconscionable, sir!"

  "Nevertheless, Your Grace," Tolkan continued smoothly, "we did so in your best interests. It is enough if he admits the charge. You do not need to be privy to it."

  "And if he denies them?" Legion snapped.

  "How can he, Lord A'Lex?" one of the Justice's inquired. "He has already signed to the charge. However, if he should perjure himself now, he will face additional punishment."

  "As we have said, it is in Her Grace's best interests—"

  "It would best serve Her Grace's interest if you would be done with this farce of a so-called trial!" Gerren shouted. "Read this new charge!"

  "If you insist, Majesty." Coure smiled. His faded eyes went to Conar. "Shall I read the charge to your family and friends?"

  Conar knew he couldn't have stopped the old man if he had said no. He remained silent.

  Kaileel's face was flushed with excitement as he watched the proceedings from the corner of the room. No one had noticed him, not even Conar. He was eagerly awaiting the words that would surely drive a wedge so deeply between his family and friends, the man would forever be cast apart from them all.

  "How do you plead to the charge of adultery?"

  "Adultery?" Gerren gasped.

  "Of having used your rank and position in the realm to seduce High Priest Tohre, among other men in the Temple, to have sex with you, even after your Joining?"

  Beaming with triumph, Kaileel watched Conar's face lose its color. Even the stoic Brelan Saur had come to his feet.

  Angry voices buzzed about the room; the Tribunalists banged on the table; the bailiff shouted for order.

  The King stood open-mouthed, his face a deep suffusion of red. Liza struggled in A'Lex's arms. The new Commander of the Serenian Forces, himself, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at his brother, held the woman as though in doing so he could save her the pain and humiliation of what was happening. The woman's brothers sat frozen, their faces an ugly grimace of distaste. Teal du Mer buried his face in his hands; Hern Arbra slumped in his seat, his face stunned. None of then expected this, least of all Conar.

  Tohre turned his gaze at Conar and, as the young man's eyes finally met his, he saw the final realization of defeat in those remarkable blue depths.

  "That's a lie!" Liza screamed. "Conar, tell them it's a lie!"

  Legion held her against him to keep her from running to her husband. Whatever his brother had signed, Legion knew it wasn't what had just been spoken of.

  "Tell them it's a lie, son!" Hern called.

  "He can not deny what he has already admitted!" Coure yelled.

  Angry voices shouted over the call for quiet.

  King Gerren argued with the bailiff, who refused to allow him access to Conar.

  Brelan stood transfixed on the misery on Conar's face. "What have they done to you?"

  "Tell them, Conar!" Legion shouted. "Tell them it isn't true."

  "Tell them, Conar!" Liza pleaded. She knew what such an admission would do to him. "Tell them it's a lie!"

  Conar stood perfectly still, pain registering on his face as he watched Liza and his father trying to get to him. The guards held him tightly lest he try to run. He couldn't have run if he tried. He was numb. Never, never had he dreamed Tohre would turn his guilt at having committed adultery with Gezelle to this!

  "Do you perjure yourself and deny the charges?" Coure shouted. "If you do, you will be severely dealt with."

  He almost laughed. How many degrees of severity were there that he hadn't already endured? He shook his head. None as painful as what he was about to, he knew.

  "Conar, please!" Liza screamed. "Don't let them do this! It isn't true. Don't let them win!"

  Her pleading melted his soul. He scanned her lovely face, ravaged by grief. She knew the truth of what he had been forced to do long, long ago. His father and brothers, his friends, no doubt, suspected the worst, not knowing for sure if he had done such horrible things, for hadn't he joined the Domination? Was that not what those men did to one another?

  "Conar?" his father questioned.

  Having to admit to something he had not done was killing him. He knew if he dared deny the charges, he'd be taken back to his cell, and within a matter of hours, Liza would be there with him.

>   He shook his head. He could not let that happen.

  He glanced at Brelan's expressionless face, drew courage from the calm acceptance of his guilt he thought he saw written there, and raised his head.

  "It's true," he said in a voice that cut through the angry talk, sliced through the wounded gasps of shock and outrage, plunged deep into the hearts of everyone who had ever loved him, murdered what small affection might still be left.

  Complete silence followed. His father dropped into his chair, his face in his hands. Legion pulled Liza against him. Teal stared at the floor; Hern cried; Grice and Chand Wynth looked at one another; Brelan folded his arms across his chest and watched his brother with a look of disgust.

  "All of it is true," he said. "I am guilty."

  "Conar, no," Brelan sighed, his hands falling to his sides.

  "You are guilty!" Tolkan pronounced with glee. "Sentence must be passed."

  "He's to be exiled. We know that! Get this over with!" the King said miserably.

  "He will be exiled, aye," Tolkan agreed. "But he has flaunted the laws of this land before this Tribunal and must be made to atone for his crimes. He will not hang alongside his co-conspirators because he was born royal, but he is guilty of sedition and of the commission of adultery."

  "So you'll take the whip to him, won't you, Coure?" Legion shouted.

  "Aye, that is the prescribed punishment," the old man said.

  Legion tightly held Liza, feeling her body tremble.

  Brelan locked his gaze on Conar and then sat on the edge of his seat, holding his breath.

  "Are you making his punishment for the adultery retroactive from the time before his Joining?" Du Mer called even though he had no right to be heard or answered here.

  "We are!" Tolkan acknowledged.

  "You are annulling his marriage?" the King gasped.

  "We already have."

  "You can't do that!" Liza screamed.

  Brelan's forehead creased, then full understanding of what the Domination had planned for his brother hit him like a thunderbolt. "Oh, hell, Coni," he whispered, slumping in his chair. "The gods help you."

  "Your Grace," Tolkan said patiently, "the Tribunal is the law in Serenia. We only follow the—"

 

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