Jaleigh Johnson - Unbroken Chain

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 is 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.

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 facade 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.”