The Dead God's Due (The Eye of the Lion Saga Book 1) (23 page)

The shards darted toward the
entrance, no longer fish but hawks. Screams of pain and streamers of
blood erupted from the confused guards as the birds of prey ripped
through their ranks, leaving death and dying in their wake.

Beyond the entrance, the
hallway was filling with more guards, responding to the cries of
their fellows. Maranath lowered one hand and reached toward the
ground as if he were grasping an invisible carpet, then jerked
upward. Screams of tortured metal and stonework echoed throughout
the palace as the floor outside the courtroom door lifted itself,
jagged spikes of stone erupting at random points and impaling any
guard unfortunate enough to be near. As his hand reached shoulder
height, Maranath jerked it downward again as if cracking a whip, and
the floor responded in kind. The raised section surged forward like
a tidal wave, stone and steel rending and exploding with shrapnel as
it conformed to new shapes. The wave roared down the hall, dashing
hapless guards to bits against the walls and ceiling as easily as
the sea breaks mighty ships of war against rocks. It struck the
doors at the other end of the hall, tore them from their moorings,
and kept going, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Kariana sighed. Well, she
hadn’t expected to win, not really. Again, it was freeing.
I
might as well die with some style.
With a cry of abandon, she
jerked Sadrik’s knife from her shirt, leapt from her seat, and
charged headlong for Narelki.

Prandil boggled at her briefly,
then backhanded the air in front of him. Invisible force hit her in
the chest like a sledgehammer, and she felt herself lifted into the
air like a rag doll. She came down hard at the feet of the statue of
Tasinal, gasping for breath.

So this is how it ends. At
least they will remember Empress Tasinalta the Mad for a long time.
Maybe they will frighten children with tales about me.
She smiled at the thought.
That’s so much better
than being a stupid whore.

Prandil surveyed the carnage
and sighed. His face lit with a sudden realization, and he turned
toward the back of the courtroom. “Maklin, you lazy wretch,
you might have lent a hand, you know! We could have been killed!”

Maklin didn’t even look
up. “You’re still alive,” he muttered.

“We might not have been!”

Maklin grunted at this,
unmoved. “Can’t you see I’m busy here? And it’s
not as if you did much yourself. Beat up a small girl, oh, very
powerful indeed.”

Prandil struck an indignant
pose, hands on his hips and brown, pointed beard quivering with
feigned outrage.
He’s pretty good at that.
“It’s
hardly my fault these two hams stole the show. I was quite looking
forward to a fight, but it was over too quickly.”

Maklin waved a hand
dismissively. “Just so.”

“There are always more
fools,” Ariano told him, her voice still edged with strange
harmonics. She was no harmless little old lady anymore. That mask
had slipped from her the moment the fight began.
Not really a
‘fight’. More of a ‘slaughter’, actually.
Now, her green eyes sparkled with deep, brilliant malevolence,
and her mouth twisted in a cruel sneer.

The same was true for Maranath.
His cane was gone, as was all pretense of frailty. He stalked toward
her with all the vigor of a young man, his eyes windows into the
heart of a lightning storm.

In the distance, the sounds of
metal shod boots on stone echoed toward them, more guards, more
unsuspecting victims.

“You have done enough!”
Lucreta shouted, tears still streaming down her face. “You
have the power to spare lives, too, damn you!”

Kariana spit out a mouthful of
blood and stared out at the carnage. She couldn’t help but
chuckle at her own gross underestimation of the Meites. Who would
have fingered Ariano or Maklin? Mei, it was beyond anything she had
imagined, though. In a few moments, they had devastated the
thousand-year-old courtroom and killed at least fifty men.
I
wonder if they will get in as much trouble as I did about the guard
killing thing? I doubt it.
The
marble floor beneath their feet was slick with blood. She looked up
at Tasinal’s scowling statue, feeling as if her face would
crack open with her mad grin.
He seems...pleased.

Prandil eyed Lucreta warily for
a moment, then raised his hands and smoothed the air before him. The
courtroom entrance conformed to his will, stretching and smoothing
itself into a solid wall. “We’ll finish our business
without their interference.”

Narelki shook her head in
distaste. “At least there is that.”

Maranath turned toward her more
sharply than he might have, and spat, “You disapprove? We
should have let this fool kill us all for sake of decorum?”

“Of course not,”
Narelki told him. “But it was costly. It will be hideously
expensive just to replace the guards, to say nothing of the
courtroom. The glass, the stonework, it was all priceless.”

“Oh, my dear, you need
not worry,” Ariano told her, laying a hand upon her arm in
sympathy. “Has not Talus always provided for the beauty and
truth of Nihlos?” Narelki’s eyes flickered at this, but
her face remained impassive as Ariano continued. “I have a
precious few students who excel at both sorcery
and
craftsmanship. With Yorn’s help, we will have the whole place
repaired in a week.”

Without looking up from his
notebook, Maklin raised a hand and nodded agreement. “I have
ideas for a few new features, as well,” he said. “It
won’t take long to draw up the plans. I’ll start as soon
as I am finished with this.”

“Then at least there is
some good news,” Narelki said in a sour tone. “Shall we
resume?” She paused, waiting for objections, but none came.
“Then we shall add to the agenda a discussion of Tasinalta’s
fitness to serve, to be determined after we settle the current
business. Maranath, as eldest, it is appropriate that you conduct
the proceedings.”
She speaks to him, but she doesn’t
look at him. Why?

“Very well,”
Maranath agreed. He was once again a very old man, limping to take
his place at the desk. He stood over Kariana, where she still lay in
a heap. “Get up, you idiot,” he told her. “It will
go better for you if you hold your tongue until we choose to deal
with you.”

Kariana wasted no time in
obeying. She nodded and scrambled to her feet, standing on shaky
legs. She took a seat by Davron, doing her best to appear as
dignified as possible after such a sound thrashing. Davron gave her
an amused look and gestured to his lip to indicate where she was
bleeding, then turned back to the judge’s desk.

Maranath nodded and cleared his
throat. “Caelwen, bring forth the Southlander.”

Caelwen whispered something to
Aiul, most likely a death threat, and stepped forward with
Sandilianus. The Southlander stood silent and respectful.

“I see we have your
attention,” Maranath noted.

“Aye,” said
Sandilianus. “That display was difficult to miss.”

“Intentionally so,”
Maranath said with a nod. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Spy,
not a spy, attacker or not, etcetera.”

Sandilianus returned his own
grave nod. “We did not come as enemies.”

“And yet we are enemies
now, whoever is at fault.”

“And I have seen too much
of you to be ransomed.”

“Just so,” Maranath
said. He stroked at his beard, thinking. “You would prefer
death to prison, I presume?”

“An honorable death,
yes.”

“We will grant a proud
warrior an honorable death, then, if there are no objections,”
said Maranath. He glared pointedly at Kariana, daring her to speak,
but she remained quiet, eyes lowered.
I may be stupid, but I am
not
that
stupid.

Davron passed Kariana a napkin
for her lip and rose. “Southlander, you would die in battle?”

“Aye,” Sandilianus
answered.

“Then tomorrow at dawn,
you will face twelve warriors, one after the other,” Davron
said. “You may choose the weapons.”

“And if I am victorious?”

Davron’s face lit with a
broad grin at the notion. “Survive twelve of my best and I
will grant you my
name
,
Southlander.

Several of the Elders gasped in
shock. Narelki pursed her lips in disapproval. “Surely you
jest?”

Davron looked toward her,
obviously offended. “I do not joke about killing, lawyer.”

Narelki shook her head
vehemently. “You cannot name an outsider. That would be
unprecedented!”

Davron pointed a finger at the
Southlander, keeping his gaze on Narelki. “If he is victorious
against such odds, I think we had best be prepared to surrender more
than our names to his people.”

Kariana giggled inwardly to see
Narelki skewered so well. Narelki blinked as she absorbed Davron’s
comment, then shrugged and took her seat. Davron stood another few
moments, as if waiting for her to challenge him again, then took his
own seat, muttering under his breath, “Cunt.”

Polus quite clearly heard the
insult, but made no response.
They probably agree on that
.
Kariana
looked at Davron in surprise, and he raised an
eyebrow, the ghost of a smile on his lips. She couldn’t help
but grin, and took the opportunity to squeeze his thigh in a gesture
of camaraderie. He smiled at this, then gently but firmly removed
her hand from his leg.
I should have known you preferred goats to
women!
It was hardly the truth,
but the real reason was too painful to cope with at the moment.

Maranath cleared his throat,
demanding their attention. “The prisoner will be remanded to
House Noril” he noted. “Caelwen, secure the Southlander
and bring forth Aiul.”

Kariana could not look at Aiul
as he passed. It simply hurt too much. She stared at the floor,
struggling against tears.

Maranath waited until Aiul was
settled, then gave him a nod of recognition. “Amrath Aiul, you
stand before this council of Elders, accused of conspiring with
foreign agents to assassinate Tasinalta. How do you plead?”

Aiul would not look at the old
man, preferring to stare at the blood-streaked floor. “Guilty,”
he said, his voice numb and devoid of emotion.

“We know your tale. You
are a historian as well as a physician, are you not?”

Aiul looked up at this,
annoyed. “You know full well I am.”

Maranath nodded and waved both
hands as if to fend off a rabid beast. “Decorum, boy, decorum.
Now shut up, will you, and don’t bother thanking me for saving
your life, eh?” He stared at Aiul until the younger man broke
eye contact. “Now, as for your punishment, you know of Aswan.
His sentence shall be yours.”

Aiul did not answer for long
moments, merely stood in silence, staring at the floor. “Aswan
had to pledge loyalty to Tasinal to be forgiven,” he said at
last, his voice quiet. “I will pledge my loyalty to you right
now. I never wanted to do anything but live my life, and see my
child born and grow. I am not a rebel by conviction, merely by
necessity.”

Prandil rose, his brow
furrowed. “It is not so easy as that. Do you understand the
true nature of Aswan’s crime, why he was punished?”

Aiul nodded and swallowed hard.
“His crime was letting his pride overrule his sensibility. He
misjudged his strength.”

“He refused to back down
from a clearly superior force,” Prandil said. “He fought
even when he knew he could not win. His sin was waste.”

“Just so,” Maranath
agreed. “What Prandil is trying to say, and failing, is that
your pledge is misplaced. You cannot swear allegiance to us.
Tasinalta defeated you. You must swear it to
her
.
”

Aiul’s jaw bulged as he
absorbed Maranath’s words. “No,” he hissed through
clenched teeth. “That, I will not do.”

Maranath nodded, smiling
despite himself. “I think none of us expected any other
answer. Nevertheless,” he said, growing somber once again,
“There are well established consequences for such defiance.
You understand the choice you are making?”

“What of my property?”

“It will remain yours,”
Maranath told him.

Aiul nodded. “I
understand my choice.”

“Objections?”
Maranath asked the room. Kariana bit her tongue, knowing that
speaking up now would only make things worse for her, later. The
rest of the elders nodded their agreement.

“Very well,”
Maranath said. “Amrath Aiul, you are sentenced to the pit
until such time as your pride is outgrown by your intellect.”
He gestured to Caelwen. “Remove the prisoners to one of the
other rooms. Our remaining business is not for their ears.”

Kariana tried to gather her
thoughts as she watched Caelwen march his two charges into one of
the adjoining chambers. The bitter, metallic taste of fear made it
difficult to concentrate, despite the urgent need to do so.

“Tasinal Kariana,”
Maranath called, his voice dripping disdain. “Have you
anything to say for yourself?”

Kariana shrugged and stared at
the floor, emulating Aiul’s manner, though inwardly, she was
anything but resigned to her fate. “What is to be said?”
she muttered. “Clearly, I overestimated myself. Am I permitted
the same mercy as the Traitor? I won't squander it like he does.”

Maranath leaned across the
desk, eyes wide and amused. “Tasinalta, the ‘Blood of
Tasinal’, bends a knee?” he asked.

Kariana burned as if immersed
bodily in acid as she choked out, “I do.”

Narelki called out, “Tasinal’s
Mercy does not apply to her. This situation is unprecedented.”

Kariana licked sweat from her
lips. “Is there precedent for the removal of a ruler of
Nihlos?” She said it as if it were a rhetorical question, but
she honestly had no idea. It was just a die cast into the wind.