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 met her gaze, she felt her breath catch in her throat. His brilliant blue eyes bored into her from beneath his gray brows, fire and ice, brooding, so full of life that it made her feel weak and old. 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 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 now 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 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 laughed and shook his head. “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 grinned 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 hatred for Narelki would burn a hole through her chest, fall onto the desk, and set it on fire, but she managed to control herself.
Narelki 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.”
Kariana waited a moment for the murmuring amongst the elders to pass, then conceded, “True enough. But this is a special case of high treason, and requires a heavy hand.”
Narelki looked around at the others, then back at Kariana. “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. What would the Meite say?
The old man wobbled on his cane a moment, then spoke, his voice strong despite 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. “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 vehemently. Don’t screw this up. Play it like she told you! “This case is not the same. Aswan led an internal rebellion. Aiul conspired with foreign nationals. This is not rebellion, it is treason, a much higher crime. 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.” 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?”
&n
bsp; 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. If you are no spy, and you did not come here for war, then why come at all?”
Kariana felt a cold chill run up her spine. He’s taunting the Southlander!
“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 leaped 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 that 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, it’s 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 at her. “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 around 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.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” Kariana commanded. This was all spinning out of control.
Ariano inserted herself into the silence that followed Kariana’s outburst, her soft, almost musical voice at odds with her wizened, shrunken features. ““You would have us speak to you? 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 “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 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 turned to Maranath. “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 replied, 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 leaped to her feet and shouted, “Mei! You fool! Don’t!”
Kariana smiled and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Guards!”
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.
The rest of the Elders barely flinched as the guards continued to pour in. Only Lucreta gave even the slightest indication of distress, slowly
closing her eyes and calling out, “Have mercy!”.
Kariana laughed her new laugh, the really wicked and evil one that came so easy now. She struggled to commit the scene to memory, so she could accurately describe it later. What a grand tapestry this glorious victory would make! “Kill these traitors! Kill them all!”
As one, Maranath, Prandil, and Ariano rose.
“Have mercy!” Lucreta screamed again.
The courtroom rippled like a mirage in the burning sun as invisible waves of power erupted from the three Meites in a widening circle of swirling ether.
“Mercy is for the weak,” Ariano called out in a sing-song voice.
Lucreta lowered her head and wept.
Ariano opened her mouth wide, and multiple voices in perfect harmony poured forth, so liquid they could almost be seen as well as felt and heard. The music quickly rose in pitch and volume, bouncing back and forth from the stone arches, folding upon itself and gathering power with each echo, until it was the shriek of a hurricane trapped within the confines of the courtroom.
The huge, stained glass windows imploded, the sound of their shattering like a thousand champagne flutes being dashed against the walls. Glass rained down in chaos, jagged, grisly death for all below. With a sudden jolt, the deadly shards jerked sideways, organized now into a coherent unit, gravity no longer their master. Brilliant sunlight reflected in a dazzling display from razor-like edges as they spun and leaped in unison, a school of shilling fish dancing in the air.
The missiles darted toward the entrance. The guards screamed in pain, confusion, and fear, as the fragments ripped through their ranks, trailing streamers of blood.
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