Janny Wurts - The Complete Empire Trilogy

Mara had no answer. Frustrated, aching, and furious to discover herself unable to prove the truth, she regarded the enemy who had ruined her father and brother, and whose ancestors had caused her ancestors generation after generation of grief. Her face showed no expression as she said, ‘You balance the honour of the Minwanabi upon a slender thread, Lord Jingu. One day soon it will snap.’

Jingu laughed, a full-throated sound that eclipsed a smaller disturbance by the entrance. Mara saw beyond him and felt a moment of triumph so fierce it felt like the pain of a sword withdrawn. Through the screen, parting a way through the packed bodies of the onlookers, came Nacoya. Behind her walked Almecho with two black-robed figures at his side.

The Warlord glanced about the room, observing the mayhem that had visited the guest suite given to Mara. ‘By the gods,’ he exclaimed with a laugh, ‘what has occurred? A storm in the house, from the look of things.’

Jingu returned a bitter smile. ‘An attack, my Lord, but there seems little agreement on just who assaulted whom first.’ He added a theatrical shrug. ‘I’m afraid we’ll never get to the heart of this, as Lady Mara’s First Adviser – out of admirable if misplaced loyalty – will lie to support her Lady’s tale. It will be her word against Shimizu’s. I expect we’ll have to let the entire matter pass.’

Almecho’s eyebrows rose in malicious reproof. ‘Oh, really? I don’t think we need let any slight of honour pass, Jingu. Just so there is no cloud on your good name – not to mention any shame to spoil my birthday celebration – I’ll ask my companions to lend a hand.’ He turned to the two black-robed figures at his side and spoke to the first. ‘Elgahar, can you sort this matter out?’

A dispassionate voice answered. ‘Of course, my Lord.’ As Jingu’s face drained of colour, the magician continued, ‘We can prove without doubt who is lying and who is speaking truth.’

Almecho’s eyes travelled from Lady Mara’s face to Jingu’s with poisonous amusement. ‘Good,’ he said softly. ‘Let us separate the guilty from the innocent.’

Elgahar demanded silence.

Conversations fell to a murmur, then subsided to total stillness as the guests of the Lord of the Minwanabi crowded themselves into the room where Teani had fallen to her death. Shimizu had regained consciousness. Seated now at the feet of his Lord, he regarded the Great One with impassive eyes.

Mara sat opposite, Nacoya and Arakasi at her side. Her honour guard had cleaned the blood from his face, but he had made no other effort to refresh himself. A few of the guests had sent slaves to bring robes to cover their sleeping attire, but most had not troubled with appearances. Piqued by curiosity, all waited with keen anticipation for the demonstration of the Great One’s magic.

The moon shone brightly over the broken rail of the gallery. Bathed in its coppery light, the Great One lowered his arms. ‘I will require clear space around all areas where the action occurred, and no people standing in the doorway.’

Sandals shuffled on waxed wood as the guests did Elgahar’s bidding. The Warlord placed himself behind the Lord of the Minwanabi, and Mara saw him lean down and whisper. Jingu returned what was meant as an offhand smile, but the result was forced and stiff. No Lord in the Empire truly understood the powers of those in the Assembly of Magicians; the ability of this Great One to cast a spell for truth seemed to bring little comfort to the Lord of the Minwanabi. The magic might easily catch Mara in a lie, and then the Acoma would be ruined, but other possibilities occurred to Jingu. Teani’s unpredictable nature had been part of her appeal to him; and her hatred of Mara was no secret.

The Great One positioned himself by the door. His robes blended like ink into shadow, leaving his face and hands visible as a pale blur. When he spoke, his words rang like a voice beyond the bounds of human understanding. The innocent, the guilty, and onlookers alike shrank from the sound. ‘We stand upon the site of violent acts,’ Elgahar said to those gathered to witness his magic. ‘Resonance of intense passion creates echoes in the other-world, that state of energy which parallels reality. My spell shall call forth these echoes in visible form, and all eyes will see what occurred between the servants of the Minwanabi and his guest, Mara of the Acoma.’

He fell silent. The hood eclipsed his features as he stood for a moment in total stillness, then tipped his head towards the ceiling. He gestured in the air with one hand and began an incantation so low that even those standing closest could not decipher the words. Mara sat like a temple statue, barely aware of the vague rise and fall of the magician’s voice. The spell he shaped affected her strangely, as if a force touched her inner self and separated a piece of her spirit. At her side, Arakasi stirred sharply, as if he, too, felt the pull of the magic.

A soft glow arose in the centre of the room, over the torn expanse of the cushions. Mara watched with wondering eyes as a vague, transparent image of herself appeared, seated as she had been in the hour of Teani’s arrival. An ice-pale spectre attended her, and all recognized the wizened form of Nacoya.

The guests murmured in amazement. Nacoya, seeing herself, turned her face away and gestured a sign against evil. The Great One gave no notice. His incantation ended abruptly, and he lifted his hands; framed in the spill of the moonlight, the glowing figures began to move.

The scene unfolded in ghostly clarity, soundless, and fragile as light reflected in water. Mara saw herself speak, and a flicker of movement appeared within the doorway. The Great One stood motionless, even as the outline of Teani entered, passing clean through his body as if he had been made of air.

The nearest guests gave way in alarm, and more than one exclaimed aloud. But the spectre of the concubine remained oblivious. Ghostly in her beauty, she retraced her steps of the hour before and advanced to the cushions before Mara. The images of both women sat and spoke; Mara regarded her own form, amazed to realize how calm she had seemed before Teani. Even now, the recreation of the scene caused her heart to beat quickly, and her palms to sweat. The recollection of her terrible doubt nearly overwhelmed her still. But none of this had showed to Teani’s eyes; and the guests who observed the fruits of the Great One’s magic themselves gained the impression of a supremely confident young woman confronting one of inferior rank. To Mara it was now easy to understand why the concubine had fallen for the bluff and believed evidence existed that proved she was a spy of the Anasati.

Next all in the room saw Teani call out to Shimizu beyond the door. Though her image made no sound, the lips could easily be read, and a moment later the Strike Leader appeared. The words of the exchange could not be guessed, but Teani’s expression shifted, becoming so animal and basic that several guests gasped in surprise. Shimizu abruptly left the frame of the spell, and all in the room saw Teani draw a knife from her sleeve. With no visible provocation, she launched herself from the cushions, striking out at the figure of Mara. Whatever claim Jingu might offer in defence, now no doubt remained that a servant of the Minwanabi had attacked the Lady of the Acoma. The Lord of the Minwanabi’s surety of safety was broken.

For the first time any Lord of the Empire could recall, Jingu showed pallor in public. Perspiration appeared upon his upper lip, while before him the drama of the hour before continued to unfold. The Strike Leader Shimizu re-entered the room, and after a brief and bitter struggle received a wound from her knife. All stared in fascination as he hurled the concubine through the doorway. Wooden railings shattered in soundless impact; and Teani fell to her death, leaving only a spectral impression of a face contorted with hatred, horror, and desperate fear imprinted in the memories of the guests. For an instant the crowded room seemed suspended and motionless. Then, assuming the drama was concluded, a few guests murmured appalled remarks. Mara stole the moment to glance at the Lord of the Minwanabi.