"Actually yes." Kelanus smiled. "The warrant for your execution for a start, signed by the Magistrate and High Reeve of Hejiller. You were tried for murder, Ellas Panir, and found guilty." He leaned forward towards Ranallic and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Win or lose, my old comrade, you are finished."
Ranallic grimaced. "We shall see. There were witnesses when you attacked those sylph boys and a witness the night you murdered Branad Vintner. That will hold against you and rightly so, for you are guilty as charged."
"If you say so, shapeshifter."
Ranallic snorted in contempt and this time he did leave, calling to some soldiers as he went, already issuing orders.
Zenepha reached his decision as he watched the outlander go. "Very well," he said. "Trial by combat." Even as he spoke, he felt sick. This trial by combat did not serve justice. "But there must be a hearing first. One man killing another in combat proves nothing, General Kelanus. You might need that pardon yet."
Tahena stared at Kelanus. "I thought you were going to keep the warrant a secret," she said, once sure nobody could overhear.
Kelanus winked. "Sometimes you have to show part of your hand to get a glimpse of the other man's cards."
"You're beginning to sound like a gambler."
"Perhaps I've been taking lessons from Neptarik. Ranallic is finished."
Tahena looked at him, her face concerned. "Don't destroy yourself through hate," she said. "You're better than that."
***
The villa on Salter's Lane had some land at the front to keep the road at a distance. It had no gargoyles for drains and was the only building on the road with eight front windows. Belaika had not mentioned that the place had seen better days, with paint flaking from the walls and splits in the window frames. Even in the early evening gloom, it appeared neglected.
The front door swung silently on its hinges. She had expected it to creak from the state of its paintwork. She moved quietly into the building. A stench permeated the air, seeming to radiate from the walls, floor and ceiling. Nicolfer's stench. All illusion of course; Sandev knew well that Nicolfer liked to claim greater wounds than she had ever received in reality. The image she loved to project suggested filth, and Sandev knew that for a lie, too. The lingering malodor proved Dervra's partner had not yet fled the city.
She must do this herself. Grayar's presence in the city had been her rock. Sending him away to bring the army she needed to preserve Marka had been her hardest decision for many years. He had returned to the city and was probably seeking her. He would find her, sooner rather than later. What she had to do, she must do quickly.
And carefully.
Nicolfer was no fool. She knew Sandev would eventually discover her hiding place and try to expel or destroy her. She must pick her way carefully. Her enemy always left traps for the unwary. She might even know her home had been invaded. That door had been left open deliberately.
The rout of Hingast's army was not the end of the war. Many would believe – and many more would hope – that the end of the siege marked peace and an end to the civil war that had wracked the former Markan Empire. Sandev knew better.
She hoped the rumors of Hingast's death were true, but that wouldn't stop Dervra and Nicolfer. They would try something different, try to worm their way into the confidence of another claimant to the Throne. And there were surely more enemies in the city, waiting for the right moment to make their move. Some worked for Dervra, and others had their own agendas. For instance, where were Marlen and his gang?
She could use the Gift to search for the renegade member of the Ten, but remembered the reaction she had suffered the last time she tried that. Best not light a beacon to pinpoint her presence. She paused in the hallway to look up the wooden stairs and down the stone steps that led to the basement. Nicolfer usually preferred down, so Sandev, in contrarian mood, went up. Upstairs was deserted, so she came down again, then followed the stone steps into inky darkness. The smell grew stronger. Mixed with another, more familiar, smell.
She came to a door and gently pushed it open. A solitary light crystal glowed somewhere to her right. Why would those in this house, in a poor district of the city, possess only one crystal and keep it in a cellar, of all places? Sandev's hackles rose, her senses screaming danger. She had company down here.
The familiar sinabra from a sylph smelled strongest here.
A small whimper came from a huddled shape in the center of the cellar and she approached cautiously, caring instincts aroused. A chain led from the shape into the darkness, a chain that chinked as the creature moved, rolling over to see who or what drew near. Silver eyes shone in the gloom, betraying the race to which this prisoner belonged.
"Donanya? Hna plurana?" Almost palpable hope sang in the sylph's voice. "Se hisha. Muta?"
"All right," whispered Sandev, her guard still up as she came closer to the sylph. "I'll help you, where are you hurt?" She remained cautious, but as she reached out a hand, she realized no illusion had been used, the sylph really existed.
The sylph's eyes widened as Sandev touched him, but he did not stare at her, but at something beyond and behind. Too late, and off-balance, she turned.
Her power abandoned her. She could not use the Gift!
"Well met, Sandev."
She completed her turn, the sylph forgotten as she came face to face with Nicolfer, the woman's jet eyes glittering malevolently at her former companion.
"You should have listened to Grayar." Nicolfer managed a smile. "Now, you are powerless." She motioned with a hand and Sandev could no longer move. Nicolfer glanced down at the sylph and motioned again. The chain fell away and the creature convulsed, before he opened his eyes, panting. "Go."
The sylph needed no further encouragement and scrabbled across the floor in his haste to leave.
Nicolfer returned her attention to her prisoner. "I healed him for you," she said. "Aren't I kind? Unlike Dervra, I don't like to see sylphs in pain. The poor creatures are only tools, they can't help themselves. I do hope you're not angry with him. He didn't even know his part in my plan."
Sandev struggled, but could not speak.
"You want to know what I intend to do with you?" Nicolfer's small smile widened. "We're going to see Dervra. Wouldn't you like that? I'm sure he wants to speak with you, after all you've done to thwart his plans. Most unsporting of you, sending Grayar to fetch an army safely out of the way all this distance to destroy us." She pushed her face into Sandev's. "How would you like to spend the next few thousand years as a wandering cripple? I'm sure you would enjoy that so much. To beg as those unfortunate sylphs you used as spies had to. Until your precious sylph monarch destroyed your intelligence network." She shook her head. "And you claim I am cruel."
Sandev stared, sapphire eyes wide. For the first time in many years, she felt real fear.
Moments later, the cellar was empty, save for a solitary light crystal and a chain without a prisoner.
***
Caya opened the door to an insistent knock. "Can I help you?"
The stranger smiled. "I am Sernan Lodern." He flourished a small leather case. "Sandev asked me to conduct a small investigation for her. She is your Mistress?"
Caya nodded. "She will be back soon, I am sure."
Sernan gestured. "Is there somewhere I can wait?"
"Of course." Caya swung the door open wider. "You can wait in the study."
"Thank you." Sernan stepped across the threshold and glimpsed a man lurking in the hallway. A guard for the sylph's protection?
Stanak stepped forward. "Until Sandev returns, I shall keep you company," he offered. "Alovak?"
"Please."
Stanak nodded to Caya who shut the door and pattered away. "The study is through here. Make yourself comfortable. I take it you are a former student?"
Sernan shook his head. "No, my Gift is not so great as to warrant Sandev's personal tutelage. But we are well known to each other. A long story."
Stana
k chuckled. "It usually is." He made himself comfortable in one of the chairs and indicated that the visitor should do the same. "Now, what is the work you have completed for Sandev?"
***
Chapter 25
The Duel
Zenepha shifted in his seat and masked a sigh. He had so much to do. Trials for the traitors must be arranged, leading – sadly – to certain verdict and painful death. Prisoners to be vetted and put to work or dealt with as that vetting indicated. A suitable response to the petition from the Trading Council, a task now in the hands of Verdin Vintner and the progress of which he must check later. Rebuilding the destroyed and damaged parts of Marka. And, most importantly, distribution of food to those most in need.
Instead, he sat in Coronation Hall, the spacious chamber darkened by timber and tapestries that screened the destroyed window. Worse, the usually faithful Djerana had deserted him, stating she wanted no part in seeing one man kill another in a charade of justice. She had gone walking with Selkina.
Zenepha wanted no part in it either but, as Emperor, he had little choice. The Supreme Council must have a hearing before the duel, to listen to the accusations and denials. Or, as in this case, counter-accusations.
People packed the hall, with most of the chairs removed to fit in even more. Still more thronged outside and Zenepha wondered if there might not be more people here than had attended his coronation. A sobering thought.
He listened to General Ranallic. He paid a lot less attention to him than he had to the man's star witness, Captain Crallin of the City Guard.
"The thing is," Ranallic said, "Kelanus was seen in Branad's tent and, after his arrest, fled from justice."
Olista, who conducted the questioning on Zenepha's behalf, leaned forward. "Seen by Belaika. You call Captain Crallin as your witness, but not the sylph who slept in Branad's tent during the murder."
Those packed within the hall were bipartisan: some supported Kelanus and the rest Ranallic. They, and those who waited outside, were ready to follow their chosen favorite to the field of battle. All seemed eager to see a little more death, even while prisoners still buried corpses and cleared the battle mess before carrion birds did.
"Belaika wishes not to speak," replied Ranallic. "I'm sure he is as disgusted by the act of murder as I."
"And you claim this act was committed because Branad forced Kelanus out of his post?"
"Yes."
"Please explain further, General Ranallic." Olista folded his arms and leaned back again.
As Ranallic launched into a long tirade about the mistreatment and murder of sylphs, allegedly committed by Kelanus, Zenepha allowed himself two sideways glances at his advisors. His attention lingered on Marcus, who – although a rival to the Throne – had proved his loyalty by diving in through the window behind him. And by doing so, saved his life.
Captain Crallin's gaze swept around the hall, as if Zenepha's personal guard was insufficient protection. Having given his evidence, he now probably wanted to see the outcome of the duel. No sign of Sallis ti Ath, but the man wore elusiveness as his trademark.
But Sandev and Grayar's absence surprised Zenepha. Had they boycotted the hearing to show their disgust? Trial by combat sickened Zenepha, but some fool had left it on the statute for Kelanus to exploit. Somebody had told the General of its existence.
"Do you have witnesses to call concerning the events in Sandester?" Olista's voice was quiet.
"There were only the two sylphs who made the allegations," replied Ranallic, spreading his hands.
"So?"
"The authorities decided not to prosecute, so nobody knows what became of those sylphs."
"Sounds careless." Olista's eyes narrowed. "These are serious accusations to make without evidence."
"They were reluctant to face Kelanus in court," replied Ranallic. "I doubt if they would like to do so now, either."
"Sylphs seem reluctant to speak for you, General Ranallic."
"Perhaps they fear Kelanus more than me."
Zenepha gave the interrogation only half his attention. Ranallic had steadfastly and doggedly given so much to the defense of Marka. Kelanus led the army that had lifted the siege. Both had played important roles in recent events, yet one would die today. Unless one ran from the field. Neither man seemed a coward, so that outcome was unlikely.
Zenepha glanced across the packed hall and noted other southerners in the crowd. He noticed Tahena, who appeared to be very attached to Kelanus. She repeatedly threw hostile glares Ranallic's way. The southern mercenaries – who had fought under Branad Vintner and Ranallic before coming to Marka – also directed their hostility towards the General. Why didn't they support one of their own?
Zenepha felt grateful to see two other sylphs in the hall.
Both wore clean white shirts and dark gray breeches. One wore a gold collar, but the other had plain leather at his neck. The countenance of the pair screamed scout, even had Zenepha not recognized them.
Belaika, apparently so reluctant to be a witness, stood beside Neptarik. The latter's earpoints twitched every time he glanced Kelanus's way, almost as if the man was a second owner. Had the scouts attended to lend support? Zenepha doubted if that support would be for Ranallic.
Ranallic finally finished speaking. His case was already well known and, on the face of it, quite damning.
"Thank you, General Ranallic. You may stand down." Olista glanced at the Emperor.
Zenepha forced a smile, though his mouth felt like ash. He was thankful for the circlet that held his earpoints steady.
Belaika now leaned forward in increased interest. If he refused to be called as a witness, why had he come here?
"General Kelanus." Olista quietly called for the other duelist.
Kelanus nodded and stepped forward, his pale blue eyes grave. He glanced quickly at a small area, partitioned and kept clear of people. "Your Majesty." He inclined his head briefly to Zenepha. Ranallic had directed his answers to Olista, but Kelanus spoke to the Emperor.
Kelanus continued. "You've heard Ranallic speak at length of my alleged crimes and the verbal evidence is apparently overwhelming. But there are several points I ask all here to consider before they reach any firm conclusion.
"There was one witness at the murder of Branad Vintner. Put yourself in the place of the murderer: would you leave a witness behind? One who knew me well enough to identify me?
"Why was Branad murdered? Did Marcus Vintner order his murder? If so, why? Branad had renounced his claim before the Senate. Marcus Vintner had nothing to gain. Was it because I wanted revenge because of losing my previous position. Again, why? I now served the man who had just defeated my former employer. What did I have to gain?
"Or did someone else stand to benefit by having me out of the way? Think on who replaced me."
"You were seen." Olista kept his voice quiet.
Kelanus glanced at the Supreme Councilor, but spoke to Zenepha. "Belaika knows me well. He stated in court that although the murderer looked like me, he was certain beyond any doubt that that person was not me. Adamant on that point. Do you want me to call Belaika-y-Marcus as witness? His statement is a matter of record."
Zenepha glanced at Belaika, who nodded. "That is unnecessary," he said. "As you say, the scout's testimony is recorded."
Kelanus stared at Zenepha and the sylph saw anguish in his eyes. "Until two years ago I was employed by Branad Vintner, a man I counted – and if he lived would count still – as a friend. I replaced Marshal Mikhan Annada twelve years ago as First General and held that rank for ten years, before Branad terminated my employment concerning allegations made at that time." He sighed. "The allegations concerning improper behavior to, and murder of, sylphs. Though what happened to those who died was far worse than improper.
"Again, let us look at all possible motives.
"That I am guilty as alleged. If this were true, would I leave behind witnesses, especially when all the other sylphs were murdered? And why, after what we t
hink was a spree of sylph mutilation and murder, would I suddenly get careless? Criminals hone and improve their methods; to suddenly leave behind witnesses when before they did not is not an improvement. Those witnesses brought about my fall, but someone else gained much by having me out of the way."
Kelanus looked around the hall before he continued.
"I say that Ranallic Eydren stood to gain most by having me removed from Branad Vintner's army and he stood to gain most when he accused me of Branad's murder."
"But you were seen," interrupted Ranallic. "There's no getting away from it." He spread his hands in surrender when shushed.
Kelanus ignored the interruption. "Ranallic first came to the attention of Branad Vintner and myself nine years ago. He sought an officer's position in the army. Having been a mercenary myself, I was sympathetic to this and impressed by Ranallic's obvious skill. Thus he began his career with Branad's army as a Lieutenant. We soon realized we had found an able and ambitious officer.
"He proved his skill in the most practical sense over and over, so I promoted him to Senior Lieutenant, then Captain, then Banner Captain in rapid succession. We were forced to invent ranks to promote him to, while waiting for a spare generalship. Eventually, after swinging a battle against Marcus Vintner in our favor –" Kelanus gave the named claimant a wan smile. "– I promoted Ranallic to Third General."
Kelanus paused again. "My Second General fell in battle weeks later and Ranallic was the obvious choice to replace him. Less than three months later, the accusations were made against me. Seven years after Ranallic had joined Branad Vintner. Of course, I offered my services to Marcus Vintner, the reason why Ranallic suddenly found himself again subordinate to me. For a few days, anyway."
Zenepha steepled his fingers as Kelanus again glanced at the small clear area. Some of what the former General had to say had not been heard before. He glanced at Olista, who leaned forward again.
"You escaped from custody," he said. "With help. Where did you and your companions go?"
"To Pensdren, in the far south," replied Kelanus. "Where we met Larna Eydren, at her father's grave. His name was Ranallic Eydren."
An expectant buzz ran through the assembly as everybody in the hall stirred.
"The real Ranallic Eydren took an apprentice by the name of Ellas Panir, to teach him tracking and hunting. Unfortunately, his apprentice had a habit of attacking and murdering sylph males. Male sylphs of marriageable age are not numerous and in a village the size of Pensdren, they were quickly missed.