Stephen Lawhead - Taliesin

“By this I knew I had been attacked under Avallach’s order,” Nestor said loudly, his tone betraying a note of triumph. He took the cloth and handed it to the High King, who glanced at it and had it passed on to the next king to examine.

“You present us with a most shocking indictment, Nes- tor,” replied the High King. He shifted his gaze to Avallach. “What have you to say to this, Avallach?”

“Nothing at all,” replied Avallach equably. “I have never considered it polite to comment upon the ravings of the insane, nor profitable to engage in argument with lunatics.”

There were chuckles around the room; many in the gallery laughed outright and the tension in the rotunda melted. It was clear to all present that Avallach would not be drawn into dignifying Nestor’s absurd accusation with a defense.

“My sympathies, Avallach,” replied the High King, who also appeared relieved. “Still, Nestor has leveled a most serious accusation. Have you no reply?”

“Oh, it was a most amusing tale, Sire-especially the part about riding from the Mykenean coast to Poseidonis in five days. A singular feat of horsemanship, it would appear. I must remember to tell my children.”

Nestor glared furiously and opened his mouth to denounce Avallach, but the High King raised his hand.

“What of the banner?” asked Ceremon. “He has produced a piece of your royal banner.”

“Has he indeed?” wondered Avallach coolly. “I saw only a scrap of green and yellow cloth without insignia.”

“It was his banner!” said Nestor angrily. “I swear before the gods that it was.”

“Let us ask the council for an opinion,” said the High King.

“Sire,” began Musaeus of Mykenea, “aside from the banner, which appears genuine, I too am inclined to doubt certain details of Nestor’s story.” There was general agreement among the assembly.

“Speak freely,” ordered Ceremon.

“As Avallach has already pointed out, it would be most difficult to reach Poseidonis from the coast in only five days- even riding day and night. And then there is the matter of the attack itself-are we to suppose that one of our number would make sucrr an unwarranted attack on another king without provocation?”

“If I may speak, that is precisely the point I wish to emphasize,” said another king.

“Yes, Hugaderan?”

“Sire, it seems to me that just such an attack, because of surprise, would be most successful. And if it were to fail-as it obviously did through the cowardice of those involved- it would not likely be Believed. Is this not the very situation we see before us?”

“As you say,” replied the High King, “I am inclined to wonder precisely what it is we see before us.” He waved the comment aside. “Does anyone have anything further to say? No? Then I invoke the High King’s privilege and propose to resolve this matter myself-if the principals will agree.”

“As you wish, Sire,” replied Avallach.

“Agreed,” said Nestor through clenched teeth.

“Then take your seat, Nestor,” ordered Ceremon. The king made a curt bow, glowered at Avallach, and sat down. “Now then, let us be about our business. Let the Keeper of the Record call the first case.”

The council administered justice until the Bell tolled, ending the day’s session. As the kings filed from the council chamber, Ceremon called to Nestor and Avallach, “I will expect you both to dine with me in my apartments this evening. An usher will bring you.”

Avallach joined his brother and Seithenin, who were waiting in the corridor beyond the vestibule. When the kings were alone together Seithenin said, “That was neatly done, Avallach. I admire your aplomb; I doubt I could have comported myself so.”

“It was an inspiration of the moment, I assure you. If we had not already suspected something like this, I would have reacted quite diiferently,” replied Avallach. Turning to Belyn, he said, “Do you have the documents you took from Nestor’s spies?”

“Of course. They are safely locked away.”

“Bring them to me. I may need them when I dine with the High King tonight.”

The meal in the High King’s inner chamber was an exercise in sullen diplomacy, in which Ceremon managed, barely, to keep peace between the two kings. Avallach seemed inclined toward civility, while Nestor maintained a bruised and brooding silence, broken only by harsh snorts at Avallach’s occasional remarks.

When at last the meal was finished and the three reclined over sweet almond liqueur, the High King said, “I had hoped that we might reach agreement over the unfortunate incident brought before us in council this morning.”

“Agreement, Sire?” asked Nestor archly. “I would expect an apology-not that I am prepared to accept one.”

“Let us not speak of apologies, Nestor,” countered Aval-lach, “unless it is for the slander you have committed against my name and honor.”

“You call me slanderer!”

“More, I call you liar,” said Avallach, sipping his liqueur.

“Please!” interrupted Ceremon. “The agreement I had hoped for was this: that Nestor withdraws his complaint and that Avallach disregards the hurt caused his name.”

Both men bristled at this, but Nestor spoke first. “His hurt! What about my hurt? I lost a crew and ship and suffered mightily for my exertion.”

“Did you, Nestor?” Ceremon looked at him steadily. “As it stands, there is no convincing proof of your assertion.”

Nestor threw his finger in Avallach’s face. “No proof! He”

“No proof,” insisted Ceremon, color rising to his face. “By the gods of earth and sky, man, there is no proof. You cannot come into council with such a transparent tale and expect us all to fall bedazzled under the spell of your words. In truth, there is no compelling reason to Believe you, Nestor.”

The kings glared at one another. “I beg Avallach’s indulgence,” said the High King, “for I perceive his hurt to be me greater.”

Nestor scowled; his hands gripped the edge of the low table as if he would overthrow it.

Ceremon turned to Avallach. “What do you say, Avallach? It is getting late and we must reach agreement somehow.”

“Very well,” said Avallach slowly. “For the sake of understanding between us I will submit to the agreement and will seek no retaliation for this insult.”

“Well?” The High King turned to Nestor.

“Since both of you conspire against me, I have no recourse but to submit. So be it.” Nestor stood up slowly and threw a murderous glance at Avallach, then turned on his heel and went out.

When he had gone, Ceremon poured more liqueur into the tiny crystal cups. “His is a devious mind, Avallach. But now that it is settled, let us put it behind us.”

“I only hope that it is settled, Sire.”

“Do you have any idea why he chose to indict you?”

“I protest that I do not. The affair is a mystery to me-as obscure, I might say, as the reasons behind these.” He reached into the pouch at his hip and withdrew the documents confiscated from Nestor’s spies in Belyn’s shipyards.

“What is this?”

“These were taken from two Ogygians caught in Belyn’s shipyards; they were posing as Azilian merchants. But, as the papers indicate, they were interested in considerably more than hiring a vessel.”

Ceremoe perused the papers, frowning. “Yes, I see what you mean: granaries… number of gates to the city… depth of harbor… fresh water supply… From this I would expect” he looked up worriedly, “-an invasion.”

“Our thoughts precisely, Sire.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Only myself and Belyn.” Avallach hesitated, then added, “And Seithenin.”