This story is a work of fiction. It contains descriptions of violent behavior between adults, references to violent behaviour between adults and children, and expressions of physical affection. If you find this type of story offensive, or if you are underage and it is illegal for you to read it, please exit now. All characters are fictional and in no way related to any persons living or deceased. Any such similarity is purely coincidental and uncanny.
This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written consent of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission guidelines but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the direct consent of the author.
I can be contacted at Bookwyrm6@yahoo.com
Copyright 2003 Kristopher R. Gibbons All rights reserved by the author.
22 Where Love Is Great
For women fear too much, even as they love,
And women's fear and love hold quantity,
In neither aught, or in extremity.
Now what my love is, proof hath made you know,
And as my love is sized, my fear is so.
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;
Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 2, Lines172ff.
"Now that We have begun, dear Warden, might I retire some of your entourage to a place where they may rest?" Evendal inquired.
"Your Majesty plays with me. They are residents of your new annex, and Your Majesty's to dispose."
The son of Menam scowled. "That is merely a legal fiction, temporary and hardly necessary between us."
Niem Dir shook her head. "No, Your Majesty. It is not. It dare not be."
With a glance downward, Evendal reconsidered the truth in her insistence. Kul. Ir. His recovery by a man with a discipline, perception and vocation equal to his own. The manner in which his father's murderer died. All about him, symbol and reality conjoined without obvious intentionality. His 'gift' relied on just such conjunctions. Respecting the limits he and his allies might create for themselves, especially when out of convenience or what seemed like expedience, was imperative. In his realm, in his rule, 'legal fictions' deserved more than mindless disregard.
The Guard that Evendal had requested of Mulienhas came through the door and bowed. The King gestured her closer. When the woman neared, the King enquired. "How are you called?"
"Britlyen olm'Bryondh, Your Majesty."
"Britlyen, be so kind as to send for Drussilikh, reassuring her that all is yet well, and send for a scribal attendant to this apartment. This after you have escorted these gentleladies to their rest and refreshment."
"Now, gracious warden of Ours, please acquaint me with these vassals."
Niem Dir nodded. "The woman in taupe is Lyselth olm'Eliserat, daughter of my old tutor and a sagacious advisor." The woman nearest the door bowed her head. "The woman to my right is Rhokelbrenih Olm'Bren-nag, a dear friend and comfort in my trials." This for the woman with the resemblance to, and a possessive hand on, the youth. "My personal attendant, Kyree len'Olekrai." A young lady in pastel blue bowed her head. "And lastly, Eirath-harl, a young man who serves as my herald and page." The boy jerked his head nervously.
"Welcome all to Our Presence, however brief your attendance needs must be. We asked to be introduced to you, so that We might later know who has attended Our friend in her hour of distress. For now, We grant you leave of Our Presence. Lady, it would be most improper for a widow of your lineage to remain in my company without agreeable companionship." Evendal declared, his left eyebrow raised in wry assessment. "Let Eirath-harl ald'Niem Dir abide with us, and you other good and gentle folk move to the rooms at Our left. There you will find chairs and cushions sufficient for your comfort, and We can have stewards see to your refreshment."
Niem Dir moved to stand, then stopped at a bland glance from the King of the Thronelands. She slowly lowered herself back into her chair, then gripped her hands as they began to tremble. "Your Majesty," she began, but could think of nothing to say. 'Please don't hurt him!' or 'Why do you think him mine?' only delivered insult.
Striving for a lighthearted soprano, and failing, Niem Dir ventured. "I have been told he resembles Rhokelbrenih."
Evendal grinned gently. "In overall appearance, perhaps. But he retains your eyes and brows, and what will prove to be your aquiline nose, once his face grows a bit more. And you keep him secret in the hopes that he will indeed live to do so. No?"
"I did not lie to you, Your Majesty." Niem Dir protested passionately.
"No, Hwil-marsidyan! We did not grant you leave as yet!" Evendal called as the Master Steward sought to follow Britlyen and the Warden's companions out the door. Evendal m'Alismogh twisted the words of a serenade to suit his needs.
For if you flee the sun of Our regard,
All light from your eyes will also take flight.
Without Our consent you blind yourself, hence.
Without Our pardon you see only night.
Unruffled, Evendal turned back to Niem Dir. "We know that, Our friend. But We have grown in Our gifts so that We hear not only what is said, but often what is not said, when others speak. Is the father living yet?"
"Yes."
"We will not task you with questions impinging on your confidence. But tell us what you would while we wait. Come closer, youngling."
Eirath-harl proved a plump child in dark-gray sporting a wary expression. In one hand he gripped a swath of hunter green cloth like a talisman, white knuckled. He stepped up to just behind Niem Dir's chair and, after a quick pleading glance to the woman, knelt.
"No, no. Up, please." Evendal directed.
Eirath-harl obeyed.
"How many years have you?"
"Eight. How many do you have?"
Eirath!" Niem Dir exclaimed, embarrassed. Eirath-harl started, and shrank back behind the chair.
Evendal grinned. "I claim twenty-four years this month. You are the same age as my own son."
"Wh. What's his name?"
"Kri-estaul,"
"Has he ever been to my mother's house?"
What Evendal heard in the silence before and after that question wiped the pleasure from his countenance. "I don't believe so." He turned his head away, as though distracted, and gazed at the large bed bearing its small burden. Hielbrae glanced over at her king and nodded with a brief grin, signifying that all was well with her charge. Evendal flicked a briefer grin in acknowledgement and turned back to stare at Niem Dir's last-born child.
Eirath-harl shared gazes, a too-adult sorrow fountaining from his gray eyes, then looked down and away. The child's skin flushed healthily, his face unmarked, and his hair rested soft and black like his mother's. Eirath-harl's features shared nothing of Kri-estaul's, yet when Evendal looked at the nervous ambulatory child all he saw was a sad and depressing resemblance.
"Eirath-harl, be welcome in Our Presence at all times, regardless of circumstance, without herald or appointment, from this hour onward." Evendal ald'Menam declared. "My son has just had a serious cutting. He cannot walk."
"I'm sorry for that," Eirath-harl replied unprompted.
"That woman over there is his friend and Guard. Would you be so kind as to go and keep her company for a time, and keep company with my son if he should awaken? She can tell you much about him."
"If you... And if my mother permits."
Niem Dir nodded. The child started to shuffle away.
Up from his crouch, Nisakh sprang, to grapple the boy and then fall back to the floor with the wriggling child on top of him as a shield. Ierwbae advanced with his blade but Evendal stood and waved him to abeyance. Niem Dir rose also, following protocol for when a monarch stood.
"A child's neck breaks readily." Nisakh huffed. "Keep still if you want to live, brat! And I have listened to you, Most Luminous One. Keep still! I have heard you clearly. You value these little animals."
Evendal m'Alismogh's eyes bulged, and their glow flared as a rush of energy flowed up in him. He began a hum, a monotone broken only by his inhalations.
Oblivious, a blind Nisakh wrapped one arm around the boy's rounded waist. "Even this little fatling, I am wagering."
M'Alismogh's humming stopped when he pounded his chest one time with his fist. Nisakh's squint of effort disappeared, replaced by alarm as his throat and chest locked-up. Desperate for air, he released Eirath-harl and frantically clutched his own neck. The ex-Guard's ruddy complexion turned darker as he found himself unable to force a breath. Freed, the child rolled away to curl up in a ball and sob his fear out.
Throughout all this Niem Dir tensed with anger but made no move. Her eyes conveyed apprehension, but turned back to the King and waited on him in silence. When Nisakh began to asphyxiate, Niem Dir's expression matched Nisakh's for wide-eyed surprise. And when Evendal felt assured that Nisakh would be no further impediment, and sat back down, Niem Dir followed, as was custom.
"Ierwbae, nevermind Nisakh. Bring Us the boy." The Guard obeyed, and Evendal cuddled a child too big for the chair, rocking him as best he could and murmuring to him as the boy shook. The child had, throughout the assault, held fast to his swath of green cloth. Ierwbae, though not wanting to abandon his lord, tugged the subsequential corpse off toward the jakes, to ornament the area near a disquieted Hwil-marsidyan.
Niem Dir looked on, attentively silent. Watching her watch him, with no glance to spare for her son or her son's attacker, Evendal knew what she waited on. The Warden sat in eager anticipation for His Majesty's Guard to return from the Dark, everything and everyone else around her served as an incidental, a distraction. From the moment she realised the threats to her way of life, all else had become irrelevant. After nine years of move, counter-move, uncertainty and loss, Evendal could understand the attitude: Don't believe you've won until you hold the purse. But still...
With some bitterness the Lord of Osedys reviewed Niem Dir's comportment and silently admitted that he had deluded himself. He had warped his emergent memories of an undeniably courageous and valiant Niem Dir to serve his emotional want. He had invested her with more wisdom, power and trust than she, at least currently, displayed, while making no allowances for the effects of time or mutability on people and on his own memories. He had no doubts of Niem Dir's nobility, but had allowed her little fallibility.
What he saw, however, of mother with son evoked his own more vivid and painfully unvarnished memories of himself and his father and foster-mother.
"Niem Dir." He spoke her name to recall her attention, only to realise her regard had not wavered. "Do you remember Our advisement, about the dread gift that Our travail at Mausna evoked?"
Nisakh's all but soundless death, just then, ran a conflict of chords through m'Alismogh's ear. He shuddered.
"Yes. That by it you can coerce truth from anyone."
"Coerce, glean, draw forth. Both when people speak and when they are quiet. A combination of people or of people and place or emotion can prompt Our perceptions. So far they have served to further Our goals and purposes."
"You are, then, the most fortunate of rulers and I am, in turn, the most fortunate of neighbors." Niem Dir replied in utter sincerity.
"Our perceptions are not always welcome, Niem Dir. We comprehended one just a moment past, which told Us something of what you value. We know, to the last kypri(70), how much your youngest child is actually worth to you."
The black-haired woman froze, eyes widening again. She made no immediate reply, but stared at a point on Evendal's chest.
"Are you familiar with the reach of the Throne, as it involves families and children who are not orphaned, sold, or abandoned?" Still, Niem Dir said nothing.
"We have a precedent, identical to the marital law of saevitia(71). Only it applies to children, not spouses."
"Your Majesty?" Niem Dir swallowed her surprise. "Are you threatening me and mine?"
"No. Trust Our word in this, friend. We have no need to." Evendal pointed to the corpse on the floor. "You thought your youngest son safely hidden in plain sight, from Us as well as your extortionists. Are We correct?"
"Yes," the woman replied, alert and attentive, fearing her friend saw yet another adversary she might have overlooked.
"And We tell you, as truly as waves strike the shore, Frichestah agdh Efryho had already enjoyed unsanctioned liberties with Eirath-harl's body, and well knew his lineage."
The news caused Niem Dir to bow her head as she reviewed its likelihood. When she raised her head again, her violet-gray eyes dimmed in outrage. "Then grant me sac(72)!"
Evendal stared at the woman, sad-faced, and snapped his fingers at her as if to wake her up. "Did you heed Us at all, Warden? We know whence this anger of your's, and We give it no purchase in Our considerations. What of your son?"
"Your Majesty! This man trespassed grievously. Grant me the right."
"Your anger owns from the abuse of property, Warden. Tell Us otherwise, if you can do so honestly."
"What do you mean?" Niem Dir pressed back against her chair-frame, her body radiating affront. "He misused the child."
"Yes," Evendal ald'Menam agreed. "He did. After you gave him opportunity. Tell Us, Niem Dir, what is Eirath-harl to you?"
"He is my last-born. He was to be Eirahe's guardian and defender, were Nehaleidda to die and Eirahe became Warden."
"You had another name for him. What is Eirath-harl to you?"
"He is all I have of Eirahe. He is a last opportunity of preserving the bloodline should you fail. What else do you mean?"
"I ask a third and final time, Niem Dir. What is Eirath-harl to you?"
"He is... the little pig." The Warden found herself confessing. Her use of the definite article confirmed for Evendal what he already knew.
"This, everyone in your domain and in his life well understood. In your heart you habitually glossed over the fact that it was not an endearment from you. He was not 'your' little pig. He was 'the' little pig." Evendal clarified. "You created the means, the weakness, that Frichestah exploited."
"Your Majesty cannot be serious! How can you revile me for what that weasel did?"
"We do not. And you try to evade responsibility, Niem Dir. Such is not the mettle of a ruler or warden. You deny your persistent neglect of this boy? Very well. Tell Us. We shall ignore the scabs and scrapes little children collect like rewards. How would he have come by a scar on his left cheek?"
Niem Dir exhaled heavily through her teeth. "That happened when he had six years. I was showing him how to feed a goat, and it nipped at him. At first I thought a simple bit of marigold-paste on the wound would serve, but he scarred. It worried me, at the time."
Evendal's shoulders sagged. When Frichestah left, Aldul had drawn a line under what he had scribed. Once again he took up his tablet.
"We both know what you said, Niem Dir. Now here is what else I just heard. The incident you described did happen, yes. But it happened between you and a daughter. Yes, it did worry you. But she did not scar. You made certain of that. You do not know about any scar on Eirath-harl, because since long before Eirahe died you have not looked close enough at him to know the colour in his eyes, let alone any wens and scars of his. There is no scar on his left cheek."
Evendal m'Alismogh ald'Menam stared hard into the clench-jawed countenance of Niem Dir. The glow off his eyes turned her exquisite features into an impassive mask. "By the authority of both your vassalage this hour, and your self-incrimination, we evoke saevitia. He is not 'the little pig,' and not "your" 'little pig,' hence."
"Do you want him?" Niem Dir blurted out. "Do you seek an heir-in-reserve should Kri-estaul die? You are welcome to him! All you had to do was ask!"
The King of the Thronelands stood up again, yet holding Eirath-harl in his arms, and suddenly no one but he could see for the light flooding the room. Aldul, blinded, dropped his tools and fumbled forward from his chair, searching for Evendal with his hands outstretched, fingers splayed. His only thought, concern for his friend in the grip of high emotion. When the Kwo-edan came in contact with what he thought was Evendal's arm or shoulder, he jerked his hand back in pain for the pinch felt in his fingers and the tingling that lingered after.
"Our son shall live to govern you and this your heir. For clearly someone must." Evendal's voice pounded out from the brilliance. "The liberty We granted Eirath-harl does not extend to you, Niem Dir. As you cannot distinguish honour from pride."
Niem Dir squinted and scowled. "You have no understanding of our ways, Your Majesty, to lecture me. Just as you are, here, I am absolute in my authority in the Eastern Dark... And he is not my heir. Nehaleidda is."
"You do not hear Us, Niem Dir. We do not want or expect you to be a miniature of the Thronelands. We give you a warning." Light diminished to bearable and navigable brilliance. Evendal continued to cradle Eirath-harl. Aldul, bent forward, stood a hands-breadth from his friend. "In every sense of the word, We are giving you a warning. At this moment, look at Eirath-harl and you see an unhappy, fearful, but loyal and loving boy. Continue with him as you are, and in eight years he will be naught but a vessel of rage ready to spill out on all you wish to preserve. And you will have made him thus!"
"If only he had..." She did not complete her thought aloud.
Evendal did that for her. "If only he had been a daughter." Niem Dir shuddered as if slapped, her fixation verbalised. The King sat back down. "You punish him for his gender. Have you no sense?"
"No. I have never punished him! I told you. You do not understand us."
"Then strive to explain, this moment, as you are Our vassal."
"We are the final authority in our lands. We are the Eastern Dark. As Nehaleidda shall be, after me. Each ruler needs one male friend, a man she can trust to be the counter-voice to hers, to be the warrior if warfare is not one of her strengths. To execute justice within the family if needed. To sire her heirs if her husband proves sterile. Niar-lles serves that purpose for Nehaleidda. And had Eirahe survived, Eirath-harl would have been her guardian."
"So, with Eirahe dead...?"
"I have a use-less pumpkin of a child."
Aldul sat down, a stunned, almost hurt, expression on his usually expressionless face.
M'Alismogh could hardly credit that statement either. "Now I understand what I am hearing. Behind your words and in the silences. While Eirahe lived and resided with you, you punished Eirath-harl for Eirahe's temper and disobediences. His value depended on her's, and your vassals sensed this, even if they did not understand the code behind it. Now she is dead, and his value is not even that of a t'bo. Unthinking, they demean his every effort to serve. Almost offhandedly, they heap scorn on his every utterance. Every unrelated frustration they feel laid upon them they, in turn, unburden upon him at every opportunity. He is convenient, without status, and without advocate."
Evendal m'Alismogh paused. The shine about his head intensified once again. "I hear one voice, your's, vent resentment to someone else that he - a child only now having eight years - failed to protect his half-sister from his adult half-brother. Ah! At one time you did, indeed, pay attention to him... When you poured out your rage over Eirahe's death completely on his narrow shoulders in every way you could fancy. You let him know his extraneous status. You told him how he is utterly without value. That. That he still lived in the Eastern Dark simply because he reminded you of his dead sister. Niem Dir, you showed your vassals the pattern, the attitude, and they followed unthinking. Having given everyone in your demesne the example, what did you expect would become of him?"
Niem Dir gave no reply, but Evendal heard it anyway. 'I expected nothing. I did not, cannot, care.'
The weary rage he felt sank into hiding, and Evendal leaned forward to gaze hard at the Warden. His tone became conversational. "After this long, you knew Our repute. You had been told of Our gifts and Our perilous nature. You came before Us aware of Our deftness. Why?"
"I had no options but two. Hope to overpower the enemy I knew about. Hope I could... convince him to give an honest accounting of the enemy I did not know, and of my children's location, in exchange for his life. Hope, naively, that my enemy had no other agents in my demesne ready to report Frichestah's capture. Hope that my people could reach..."
"We understand the tenuous nature of that option, vassal of Ours." Evendal interrupted.
She continued. "You were the other option. Any alliance with another courtier or the Temple would not have helped to secure my heir or maintained the sovereignty of the Eastern Dark. I was not certain that you could. But I had heard much of your honour, and of the wonders that have accompanied you."
Evendal let the explanation alone. "Tell Us, Niem Dir. Why should We perpetuate a rule steeped in inequity?"
"I do not understand."
"If you so neglect your issue simply because he is an ungenerative male, how do you treat with the male children and grandfathers who are not your family?"
Niem Dir said nothing.
"What would We find, were We to journey through Our new-won principality? Hmm?" The Lord of the Thronelands grinned, mirthlessly and with no trace of forbearance on his glimmering face.
Niem Dir said nothing, but stared wild-eyed into the King's golden eyes.
"Healthy, discontented women, fretting over other women's gestures toward them of acceptance or exclusion, ignoring the joys their own children could give them and obsessing over their girl-children's future estate? Tired, stressed, ricket-ridden men, dying younger than their spouses from exhaustion or indifference or deferred dreams?"
"You sound like Lyselth olm'Eliserat."
"Who? Oh yes. Your advisor."
"She reminisces endlessly. How her husband wooed her. What a treasure he was. And how we don't raise our daughters to respect men. I do not know what she expects me to do about other people's nonsense."
"I can tell you that." Aldul interrupted.
Both Evendal and Niem Dir looked over to the priest in surprise.
"She expects you to not mirror it. She expects you to do better than them, different from them. Aside from your 'guardian'," Aldul challenged. "Name a man you respect."
"Lord Evendal," Niem Dir answered.
Aldul snorted his opinion of that answer. "That is conditional on his success, isn't it? Give an honest answer, Warden."
Niem Dir said nothing.
"No," Evendal declared. "We have let you keep silence too often. Answer the emissary of the Paramenate and Archate, Aldul of Kwo-eda."
"I cannot name a man I have ever respected."
"And thus is half your realm ignored. By you." Evendal concluded. "Again We ask. Why should We support a rule steeped in inequity?"
Niem Dir could not find an answer.
"Do not think We react against you, or against a woman with power." Evendal advised. "You knew, perhaps, that Osedys allows only a monarch. That the royal consort has respect and honour equal to the monarch, but not the authority or puissance."
"Yes," Niem Dir answered, puzzled.
"We hope you also knew that that ruler could be female, and the consort male or female. The ruler simply needs be the firstborn surviving child of the previous monarch. Or the child consecrated-to-rule by the previous monarch. We Ourselves are both."
"No. That I was not clear on."
"Menam had no sisters. And Onkira was careful to eschew power in the face of Polgern and Abduram's ruthlessness. So it would not have been heralded. What We are saying is that Osedys has precedents and protocols allowing the passage of power and influence without regard for gender, though the popular bias was to show greater deferment toward men."
Niem Dir looked amused, though it was hard to know for certain. "'Was'?" she echoed.
Evendal grinned, still gripping Eirath-harl. "Well, with the duumvirate no longer, and women outnumbering men after Mausna, I don't expect that bias to survive long."
Again he insisted. "The Eastern Dark is not a miniature Thronelands. Nor do We want it to be. But surely it could be Our counterpart? A place with precedents and protocols allowing the passage of power and influence without regard for gender, with the popular bias showing greater respect for women?"
For a long moment Niem Dir said nothing. Eirath-harl coughed, startling his mother who stared as though she would engrave his features in her mind. "I do not know. What you say sounds only sensible and calm. But it knots my stomach and enfuriates me. I force myself to restrain my anger, and I get fear."
From the doorway Guard Mulienhas bowed, then limped inside. "Your Majesty," The solid form of Ddronhelim waited at the door.
"Report, Mulienhas."
"We came upon Guard Ddronhelim's contingent just now in the halls. We have recovered the heir and her brother. We detained Mar-telohema and several accomplices. Saemand Telohema was docile, but a few of her... peons became violent. Two of the quiet ones were Stonewrights who had disappeared."
"Why the totter?"
"A pair of the aggressive ones used long-tailed whips, Your Majesty. They made up in ferocity what they lacked in accuracy. Your Majesty, might I speak with your guest?"
"Of course, Mulienhas. We shall address Guard Ddronhelim while you do so."
"Your Grace, as I reported, we have recovered both your children. I would prepare you, however. Neither child was capable of accompanying me on their own."
The scarring along Niem Dir's throat stood out as a mauve knotwork against alabaster white. "What do you mean? What has she done to her?"
Evendal, hearing this over his conference begun with Ddronhelim, winced.
Mulienhas explained. "Your daughter, when we found her, had been left unshackled and unattended in a small room with a sizable bed. I said 'unshackled' because the posts of the bed had shackles pegged into them. From the discolouration on her wrists and ankles, it was plain that she had previously been restrained for a long stretch of time."
The Warden of the Eastern Dark said nothing, but her eyes glittered with tears of rage.
"The first person to find her, a young Guard-man," Mulienhas twisted the language to doubly emphasize the gender. "led her from her room without difficulty. But upon becoming aware of my presence, your daughter grew... distressed. Terrified. She knelt on the floor, on all fours, and... And tried to kiss my feet!"
Mulienhas composed herself again, then resumed. "When she looked around she began to cry. At first, I had no idea why. I am still not sure, but I think Telohema had trained your daughter to fear her."
"I do not understand."
"Warden, three fifths of His Majesty's Guard are women. My cohort is fairly representative."
Niem Dir glared up at Mulienhas, but the Guard felt certain the Warden was not seeing her.
"So we arranged a male escort to surround your daughter, and met our next obstacle. Your Grace, I do not know what she did or used, but the reason Telohema no longer bound your daughter was because she is virulently agoraphobic."
"What," Niem Dir's voice cracked. "What did you do?"
"We found several pouches of black chenille. We placed one over her head and secured it as best we could under her jawline without strangling her. It was not completely successful." The Guard looked pleadingly down at the Warden's stony countenance.
"We had to tie a short length of cording between her ankles her and force-march her half of the way back. The effort to walk with the rope kept her too occupied to throw another tantrum."
"She grew amenable halfway?"
Mulienhas shook her head. "She fainted."
"Blood and thunder!"
Evendal looked up from the papers Ddronhelim had been showing him, then returned to them. Though attending the Guard before him, he yet caught the gist of Mulienhas' report.
"Your Grace," Mulienhas plowed on. "She was utterly hysterical. She will be alert and attentive, then fade. She has said little beyond 'Please, mistress', 'I love you', and 'I'm your's'. I felt it best to prepare you."
Niem Dir nodded. Mulienhas approached Evendal to apprise him, then strode momentarily out the door and back in again. Ddronhelim left his spoils with the King and returned to his twin's side and Metthendoenn's bedside.
Three male Guard, with another trailing behind, entered half-lifting, half-dragging, a fitfully animated young woman-child heavily bundled in winter-rugs. In a moment of apprehension, Evendal stood and grasped Niem Dir's hand, reclaiming her attention. As Mulienhas strove to calm and unwrap her charge safely, the King moved back to the chairs and hissed in the Warden's ear.
"It might be wise, given Mulienhas' warning, for you to stay at a distance. At first. We shall advise Mulienhas, Guard Rhoswyl and Guard Hielbrae to do likewise." Evendal glanced over to his left, at the woman near Nisakh's corpse. "And Hwil-marsidyan is occupied with keeping her lunch secure, so she shall not approach."
Initially, Niem Dir bridled at the suggestion. But the sight of her daughter blindfolded, and concern for the turmoil the Guardswoman had hinted at, jarred her into allowing Evendal to draw her toward the back of the room. As soon as the Warden demurred, Evendal called out. "Rhoswyl, Hielbrae, stay up by the wall you are nearest to. Mulienhas, when you have done, post in front of the door. Ierwbae in front of her. If you would. Ddronhelim? Darhelmir? Please remain where you are."
Mulienhas nodded, pulled the last blanket like a shield before her, and untied and lifted the bag from around the heir's head. Hiding behind the rug, the Guardswoman retreated to the door, then draped the cloth over her arm.
Someone had chopped at the mahogany brown hair along the left side of Nehaleidda's head; deliberate butchery to balance the burning that had been done to the right side. The chenille pouch must have provided indifferent cover, for the young woman hardly blinked or squinted with its removal. Nehaleidda's eyes, pine-bark brown, scanned the room. Niem Dir stood anxiously beside the table Aldul had used earlier. Evendal stood several steps in front of the Warden, waiting behind his chair. The woman closest to the Warden's daughter now guarded the door, compelling Nehaleidda toward the center of the room by her very proximity.
"Nehaleidda?" Evendal intoned.
The heir to the Eastern Dark was garbed in a long-sleeved flannel bedgown, with cloth slippers too big for her. It appeared as though her captors had not trusted her with a belt for the gown, of any material, making the loose garment bell out with the paunch her enforced inactivity must have created. She continued to peruse the apartment, eyes grazing indifferently over everyone. After a long moment the young woman untensed enough to ease her breathing. She sat down on the floor and rested arms on her knees and her head on her arms.
Then did Evendal move to his right, past Niem Dir, to Guard Hielbrae. "He is a bit weighty," the King whispered, transferring his sleepy burden. "But do not let him down just yet. He likely has not had a gentle hand on him in many years." Evendal expected his voice to carry, and had grown weary past caring. He turned briefly to Niem Dir.
"How long since you had her company?"
"Since... Since before summer, my lord."
So anxious and focused was the Warden she did not attend her own verbal submission, to Evendal's fleeting amusement. He turned once again and, as quietly as he knew how, approached the heiress.
"Nehaleidda," Evendal crooned a second time.
The girl-woman turned to the voice and grinned lightly, demurely. Something to the cast of the girl's features troubled Evendal. He shuffled noisily around the young woman, so as not to startle her, and a third time called out. "Nehaleidda,"
The young heiress turned her head sharply about, and the fall of light from both the window and the sconces created a shadow on the close-shorn side of her head where one ought not be.
"Mistress, it hurts." She whimpered in a childlike soprano warble.
Carefully, keeping in Nehaleidda's direct line of sight, Evendal stepped up to her. Slowly, with muscles protesting at the degree of control, he knelt before Niem Dir's oldest acknowledged child and raised his hands to touch her head, framing the portion shadowed. Nehaleidda jerked in expectation of pain, then stilled. The shadow, now clearly an indentation, showed vestiges of bruising about it. Someone had cut around the damage, trying, through the application of their ignorance, to repair what could not be so readily healed.
Cringing inside, Evendal replaced one hand on the other side of Nehaleidda's head and, again with slow and deliberate movement, kissed her on her forehead. The touch that had served well for Gwl-lethry did not accomplish much this time. Nehaleidda tracked Evendal's retreating face, then leaned forward and embraced him, laying her head on his bony chest. As Nehaleidda rested her head, she likewise rested her bladder. The flannel absorbed much of the spill.
Tired from a day and a half without sleep, Evendal wanted to cry. Instead he stood, in all care, then grasped Nehaleidda's hand and lifted her to her feet. That much achieved, the Lord of the Thronelands escorted Nehaleidda to the chair her mother had occupied and bowed her into the seat. The young woman acted with all the coquetry of an ingenue toward her first dance partner.
Until her gaze fell inexorably on Niem Dir, against the wall her chair faced, and both women tensed. Still with the utmost deliberation, Evendal interposed himself between the two, facing Niem Dir.
"Warden," the King hissed. "She has not been taught to fear the outdoors. About her fear of women, we both will see how true that may be. But, what Guard Mulienhas mistook for agoraphobia..." He took a deep breath, almost mindlessly furious and unable to explain why. Why the plight of this family touched him so. "What she mistook was the eye's sensitivity to bright light that comes from a serious concussion and damage to her head. She was not whipped into submission, nor did her mind go from abuse."
Niem Dir pushed to hurry past Evendal, to comfort her daughter as she had not comforted her son. Evendal refused to move. "No! Wait. Do not rush upon her. Her mind is not whole. Patience."
Finally Niem Dir nodded her understanding, collected herself, and walked with Evendal toward her too quiet daughter. Before she got halfway, Nehaleidda grinned uncertainly and greeted her. "Health, mama. Are you angry with me?"
"Why. Why would I be angry with you, sweetling?"
Nehaleidda shrugged. "I don't know. I have not been good. Mistress Telohema commanded me to stay in my room. Health, your lordship." She addressed Evendal, widening the angle of her legs and rocking in the chair.
Aldul approached, having exchanged one set of tools for another.
"Nehaleidda, this is Aldul of Kwo-eda, a priest of the Archate. He would like to examine your head."
"It hurts. It's hurt for a long time."
"I imagine so," Evendal said, standing behind his chair. "Will you let him look?"
"Very well," the young woman said. She then pushed herself upward, balanced on the balls of her feet, and tugged her bedgown up over her head. Her bulbous breasts swayed unsupported, while urine yet dripped off a dark metal cover fitted over her pelvis. The girl's bulging gut pressed against, and slightly over, the ill-fit chastity belt. Niem Dir gasped and strode to Ierwbae and Mulienhas, then came back and wrapped a blanket around a vigourously rebellious Nehaleidda. Evendal merely raised an eyebrow. Aldul, peering closely at the girl's belly, nodded to himself.
"I can look her over, if you wish. But it will not be necessary for a diagnosis and prognosis."
"How soon?"
"At a guess, ten more weeks."
"The other... Permanent?"
"The head injury? Yes. A sharp object pierced through her skull, disrupting delicate matter and precious humours. Corrupting balances established in birth. Yes, permanent. Someone will have to teach her how to eat properly again. When and where to eliminate. She will be prone to temper. Be sexually precocious and aggressive."
Niem Dir listened to this as she struggled to wait out her daughter's rage. Eventually her patience dissipated. The Warden locked one arm around the flailing girl's lean form, then raised the other over her head. Ducking around the King, Aldul reached out and tapped Nehaleidda lightly in the ribs, again and again. Niem Dir lowered her hand in bemusement as Nehaleidda began to giggle, thrashing less energetically and for an entirely different reason. After a moment of wriggling and laughter, Nehaleidda settled down quite contentedly with the rug wrapped around her.
Aldul and Niem Dir stood facing each other, breathing hard.
"That was kind of you," Niem Dir tendered.
Aldul shook the grace aside. "She will often talk and think like an adult. But her feelings, her reactions will be a child's. A spoiled child's. Social rules mean nothing to her, and never will. She will get odd humours, insisting someone who loves her instead wants to hurt her, may offer her body to a friend, family-member or stranger. She will refuse to obey and will revolt. When all else fails, spanking and tickling may distract her. Only if that fails would I restrain her. But then I have an personal hatred of bondage for any cause."
Some of the strain on Niem Dir's face eased. "My thanks. This is beyond my experience."
"Warden," Aldul hesitated, but thought to deliver all the ill tidings at once. "Your heir will not improve sufficiently to govern. She will be much as you see her now. Like a child. But not like the child she had been. And she will not 'grow up'."
Niem Dir, Warden of the Eastern Dark, looked up at Evendal Lord of the Thronelands and hissed. "You. Challenging how I raised my children. Did you know this had been done to her?"
"How could I have known?" Evendal m'Alismogh replied. "I would not be so stony. Had I known, I would have been reluctant to broach the problem. She is not merely an heir, she is your daughter."
Drussilikh, Quillmaster, accompanied by a young woman, paused at the door and curtsied. The King grinned and motioned them in. He caught the eye of the Guard that had escorted them, patted the back of his chair and raised two fingers. The Guard moved to obey. She returned quickly with two chairs, which Evendal directed behind his.
Drussilikh and her apprentice bowed a second time upon closer proximity, then sat where indicated. The young woman, blushing terribly, pulled out items from her satchel. Amused, Evendal made introductions.
"Matron Drussilikh, Guiding Hand of the Scriveners and sister to my son, We present Niem Dir, formerly Warden of the Eastern Dark and now Our good vassal. The young woman beside her is her daughter, Nehaleidda, who suffers from the consequences of a head injury." Nehaleidda paid no attention to either woman. Niem Dir declined her head.
"I wish you both all health and better fortune," Drussilikh returned. "Permit me to present my helper Lialityne olm'Eruidin. By your grace and favour, Your Majesty, she would serve as scribe for whatever business you require."
"We thank you for providing in Our need. We know We taxed good Aldul into such service, but We had other need of him as well." Then Evendal smiled at the Matron's punctilious behaviour. "Feel and be free to move as you will, Matron. Our son rests on that bed. Please satisfy yourself as to his survival as you need." And that quickly was Drussilikh out of her chair.
The Lord of the Thronelands faced the Guard at the door and nodded. "The ordeal is not ended." He warned Niem Dir, then turned briefly to Lialityne the scribe. "As We present Our arguments, record them. Any judgements or decisions. Likewise any names, locations, self-incriminating revelations those present and detained may utter."
A short man walked in the room, head bowed and fists draped across his stomach. The dark gray of his trews and overtunic hid only some of the varied stains and splatters dried on him from chin to sandals. A second, longer look revealed the bowing visitor to perhaps have fourteen years. Aldul frowned.
"Health and, finally, peace to you, Niar-lles." Evendal bade.
Niem Dir tightened an arm around Nehaleidda and scowled, distancing herself from her son with a glare up and down his shaking frame.
"Warden, you may step away from your daughter," Evendal ald'Menam advised, pointedly gazing at the suddenly miserable young man before him. "And warmly greet your new heir." Lialityne started scribbling.
Niem Dir flashed a furious look of confusion at her host. "Nehaleidda is..." She looked down at the wide-eyed girl now distractedly rapping her knuckles against her metal undergarment.
"Unfit." Evendal concluded, sitting down once again. Nehaleidda smiled at him as they sat facing each other.
"My lord," a surprisingly deep voice wended its way from the young boy as he waved his fists in a circle or two. "I cannot. I cannot grip a sword. They cut at... my tendons and... I could not even kill myself!"
Evendal flared, aghast. "Why would you want to, now?" Then he noted Niem Dir's immobility and understood. Niar-lles had known what was expected of him. "Oh. Warden," The fury in his voice added a rasp its tone. "We grant you your fondest wish. Your daughter Nehaleidda for your care. Niar-lles and Eirath-harl are not for you to neglect any longer."
"What do you plan for them?" Niem Dir enquired, a spark of anger in her eyes and in the stiffness of her body.
"Why do you ask?" Nehaleidda grabbed Evendal's hand and caressed the palm.
"You take my children from me and then ask such a question?"
"Of what value are they to you? You have all of your concern there in your hands. Even Guard Mulienhas knew which child to inform you of. She knew that any report on the agony of Niar-lles would fall on indifferent and impatient ears. That she could have paraded him in first and you would be shoving him aside in hopes of glimpsing your daughter. That your only concern, besides Nehaleidda, was that these extortionists not get the better of you."
Nehaleidda grinning gently, pulled the royal hand she held up to cup her exposed breast and rub the aureole. Niem Dir bit her lip in wordless mortification. With a fleeting, distracted kiss on her grasping fingers, Evendal retracted his hand.
The glow in Evendal's eyes remained steady and bright. "Hear Our initial judgement."
Aldul guided Niar-lles to the foot of Kri-estaul's bed, so that Niem Dir would have had to turn her back on her daughter to glare at her son. Settled for the moment, the priest began carefully testing the flexibility of Niar-lles's fingers. At Evendal's words he looked up from his task, but the King waved for him to continue with the boy.
"This We can repeat for the record, later, without much effort." The King assured Lialityne, then turned his attention to the Warden.
"You maneuvered Us into accepting your fealty. You submitted yourself and your lands to Us, and insisted We honour your submission to Our authority. We do. We ourselves adjudge you guilty of saevitia, and remove Niar-lles and Eirath-harl from your wardship and custody. They, just as your lands, are Ours to settle on whomever We choose." Evendal declaimed.
"Mother of your lands, see what your indifferent mothering has wrought for you?"
She treated the question as rhetorical. "What do you intend to do?"
"We asked you a question first. Answer. What has your mothering wrought for you?"
"With my heir unfit, in your judgement, and with no sister or sister's kin, the election would fall to Niar-lles." Niem Dir's tone of voice made it clear to all what she thought of that concession.
The Lord of the Thronelands was not through. "And were Niar-lles to govern the Eastern Dark?"
"I have no idea what misfeasance would ensue."
"And why is that, Niem Dir?"
In that moment, the Warden of the Eastern Dark hated her new liege for forcing a more personal concession from her: giving voice to an inequity she had perpetuated, the admission of which made her nauseous. "Because I have not raised my sons except as one would chattel, servants and underlings. Granting them no understanding of revenue and taxation and the various aspects of governance. With no cause to deal kindly with anyone, equal or menial."
The solemn, impassive expression on Evendal's face told Niem Dir she had best complete her thought. "With nothing to offer back to others but bitterness and self-hate. What I, and those obedient to me, have nurtured them with."
"And do you say this because you have made yourself Our vassal?"
Evendal could see that Niem Dir wanted to shout 'Yes!' to his query. To his great surprise, well aware of how he pushed the woman, she did not choose to claim such coercion. Not for him to know how aweful his glowing and inscrutable brassy gaze, coupled with a care-lined yet young visage, seemed to the Warden; how the frightening juxtaposition of familiar and fey unnerved her.
"No, Evendal. I say it because it is truth." Then she rallied. "So, does Dhu-etslef get his ambitious thirst quenched after all?" Niem Dir asked, furious and resigned, aware that she had created the situation she found herself in. "What will you do, Lord Evendal?"
"What We can." he promised. "Ierwbae? Mulienhas? Bring the judge and her minion."
From behind and beside him, Evendal heard. "Greetings Drussie! Who. Who are you?"
"I am called Eirath-harl. And you are His Highness, true?"
"Yes, I guess." Came the shy, uneasy reply. "Papa?"
"Here, my son." Evendal called back. "I have some idiocy to deal with, then I'll be..." Then he reconsidered, and took his chair to rest between Metthendoenn's cot and Kri-estaul's bed. Nehaleidda tracked his progress, and pouted when he took his chair away from her's. He passed Niar-lles and Aldul, and paused to lay a well-meaning hand in comfort on both their shoulders. "I am right here, my boy." He announced, leaned over to kiss his son on the cheek, and then sat down.
Ddronhelim stood on one side of Metthendoenn's cot, quiet Darhelmir at the other. Rhoswyl alth'Rostwylyn now stood at Evendal's back, while Mulienhas waited at the door with Ierwbae beside her. Aldul stood with Niar-lles at the foot of Kri-estaul's bed, Hielbrae and Eirath-harl on the other side of the bed, by the windowed wall.
Evendal realised that the arrangements and the number of people attending was getting out of hand. "Darhelmir, step out from there, please. Ddronhelim, Rhoswyl, might you be able to move Metthendoenn's cot over a trifle, closer to that wall?" He pointed to the corner of the door-bearing wall, at his left. The two Guard considered and nodded. "Please do so. Matron, if you would retrieve your chair and bring it here, adjacent to Kri-estaul's bed, and we can share our vigil. Gracious Lialityne, if you would join us also, but beside this gentle convalescent's cot. This will grant Our Guard room to move as they need to, both before and behind Us."
The Kwo-edan left Niar-lles and stepped over to Evendal to whisper by his ear. The King's brows rose and he spat out a clearly enunciated "Blood and swash!" before signaling the Guard behind him. They conferred, and Rhoswyl left the room twice, returning the first time with a chair, the second time with two chairs. Evendal directed them to be placed either side of Hielbrae, and sternly gestured for a fretful Niar-lles to occupy one and Hielbrae or Eirath-harl to take the other. Aldul claimed the third seat.
"Dear Niem Dir, it might be sensible for you and Nehaleidda to move nearer the opposite wall."
"So that the dastards backs are to us?" Niem Dir demanded. "So that we do not get to truly confront those who have brought me and my family to this pass?"
The Lord of the Thronelands shook his head. "No. So that Nehaleidda is not constantly face to face with a man who attacked her and a woman who subjugated her."
Silently acknowledging the wisdom of this, the former Warden of the Eastern Dark guided her acquiescent daughter to a spot against the wall of the jakes. Mulienhas hurried from the door and moved the remaining chair from the center of the room for their convenience.
As Evendal clenched his teeth, weary and frustrated at Niem Dir's continued intransigence, Kri-estaul took advantage of his father's distraction. He had heard a lot of words that didn't make a lot of sense in his daze. Sounds that took too much effort to concentrate on or puzzle out. That he heard his father's voice, angry or not, had calmed him initially. Of course it was nice that Drussie was here. Now his Papa was at his side, and had kissed him awake, so he knew his father was not angry at him. He was there, like he had promised. This big and energetic man was his Papa, and loved him, and had never left him. Kri-estaul snuck his hand out from his warm bedding and grasped three of Evendal's fingers.
The direct and undemanding possessiveness of the child's simple gesture moved Evendal to take a steadying breath. And another. On his third deep inhalation, Frichestah was brought in a little the worse for his travels. Behind his ragged semblance, Mulienhas escorted a woman who could have been Henhyroc's sister, complete with Henhyroc's demeanor of calm self-assurance. Her gray hair bound in a ponytail, her garb of silk-lined wool bespoke affluence. Every collar, edge or cuff sported ermine, the mark of her office; her coat, her overtunic, her skirt, her blouse, even the cap she wore under her hooded, ermine bordered, cape. Her unfamiliarity with blindness spoiled the impressive effect.
Ierwbae prodded Frichestah, and Mulienhas arranged Telohema so that the two faced Evendal.
"Your Majesty," Mulienhas reported. "I also detained six others in a similar state. Two mercenaries, fled from the Dowager's camp before our sortie. Two stone-wrights who possessed documentation that Telohema had pardoned them, on condition of their serving her. One woman, whom, it would seem, was kept against her will. And a child of a stone-wright."
"A child? Of the two stone-wrights you mentioned?"
"No."
"Have you any further intelligence regarding this child, then?"
"She is the daughter of two other stone-wrights, late residents of Telohema's steading."
"They would not yield?"
Mulienhas shook her head.
"Let them wait. So long as the child is as well as she can be. How many defied you?"
"Eleven, Your Majesty. We also detained the adjudicator's sister. The only professed kin there."
"So she was not passive or catatonic?"
"She was not, Your Majesty."
"Did she give her parole?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, readily."
"How many of those who resisted were stone-wrights?"
"Four, Your Majesty."
"How many dead?"
"Seven so far, Your Majesty."
Evendal frowned. "How many people did you find?"
"In total, including the dead and the child? Twenty-nine, Your Majesty."
"Blood and Thunder! Saemend Telohema?"
"Aye, Your Majesty." The woman bowed. The dwoemer clearly did not affect the minds of those influenced, merely placed restrictions to their liberty.
Evendal frowned and nodded once to Mulienhas now standing behind her.
Telohema found herself tripped and pressed downward simultaneously. When she lifted her head again, it was lower than the tired countenance of a still frowning king. "You can see." m'Alismogh commanded. "You are not here to deliver some mendacious report on conditions near the Cinqet. Guard Ddronhelim has informed me that he perused sufficient titles and deeds to demonstrate your culpability in malfeasance toward half the families in your borough. Much of what you have done, at the least, falls under malicious abuse of legal process. Now comes an accounting."
"Your Majesty, how did you accomplish my blindness? Why? Such an undeserved attack! Your agents misunderstood what they found. As a saemend of some experience my tenure in office entitles me to many emoluments."
"Emoluments? A widow and grieving mother disenfranchised from the comforts Our father had instituted and guaranteed before he embarked on his campaign. We recall the Widow Gaelyand olm'Agalyssa, whom you disenfranchised. We also have testimony of murders you had commissioned out of apparent avarice. The ministri regis was not sufficient honour? Aldul?"
The Kwo-edan had left his chair earlier, to divert and examine a restive Nehaleidda. "Your..." The King threw him a look. "Evendal?"
"Pause in your ministrations for a moment, please." The Kwo-edan moved quickly to comply. "Drussilikh? Niem Dir? Attend, please." The woman, kneeling beside her seated daughter, straightened, grief and rage commingled in her. Telohema started on hearing the name from Evendal's lips.
"Telohema, look at me directly." The woman obeyed, thinking she did so of her free will, to demonstrate her courage and sincerity. She found her attention caught and held.
"Had you arranged the acquisition, for personal use, of monies and property originally allocated to widows, war-orphans, and grieving families?"
"Yes,"
"Did you use those funds to purchase work-places, first and second generation family trades within your juridical territory?"
"Yes,"
"Did you then relinquish the adult workers and have it heralded that you would hire minors, as live-in labour, for half the wages of the original workers?"
"Yes, though I made it clear that I offered no apprenticeships or training." Telohema protested.
"Of course not, you dared not suffer the guilds' attentions. You are responsible for destruction of property?"
"Yes," Telohema's silks began to display the moisture of her nervous sweat as her mouth functioned independent of her self-interest.
"Fabricating false pension writs?"
"Yes,"
"Arranging burdensome per quae servitia(73) tenancies?"
"Define 'burdensome'?"
"We'll take that as a 'Yes'." Evendal continued. "Subrogation with Frichestah as your proxy, having intimidated, detained or killed the original claimants?"
"Yes,"
"Did Polgern enlist you to hold and tend the children of Niem Dir?"
"No. Dhu-etslef was for outright slaughter, to leave his mother no alternative but himself. But that was utterly absurd. You never back your enemy into a corner, you let them do it to themselves. So I suggested the idea. I had empty buildings and small bits of property I could hide them in. Sufficient for any relatives of other intransigents."
"And were there others?"
"No," Telohema replied. "For some reason, the Lord Protector did not ask for any further acquisitions."
"Perhaps, because you could not ensure the well-being of the two you already absconded with. How did you become involved? You're authority does not extend anywhere near the Eastern Dark."
"The Lord Protector knew of my skill in acquiring property, and approached me about ways of acquiring the Eastern Dark. Dhu-etslef thought me... comely. Later, I mediated for him when the Lord Protector tired of his plaints."
"How did this occur, the wound to Nehaleidda?"
"Frichestah. He was all for making himself Lord of the Eastern Dark at the new homestead one night. From what I understand, the girl was less than enthusiastic, going at him with knees, elbows, nails and teeth. He threw her off, toward the fireplace, and her head struck a spike of the grate and fireback."
Niem Dir's eyes darkened as she contemplated the ragged young man surreptitiously pulling burrs from his clothes. "So," she hissed, her mind awash with indignation. "You thought to deflower a Marshall of the Eastern Dark."
The young man made no response.
If only to spare himself the task of relating her every comment to one she had the right to confront, Evendal commanded. "You hear and respond to Niem Dir also, henceforth, Frichestah and Telohema. But neither of you may turn to face her."
Telohema's minion looked up and laughed uneasily. "Deflower? No. That honour went to another. Her brother did not want her first time to go to some unappreciative stranger."
When Niem Dir stood and turned to a wary Niar-lles, Evendal had had enough. "Show some sense, Warden. If that is possible. He refers to Dhu-etslef. If Niar-lles were not such an immediately available target, you would have understood that without a second thought." The King turned to Telohema, but paused at sudden movement from his friend.
"Aldul?"
Aldul, seeing a vulnerability, had simply moved his seat to where he had previously stood, at the foot of Kri-estaul's bed. He waved at Evendal to continue.
"Now, Telohema. As Warden pro tem of the Eastern Dark, We find you guilty of extortion, sedition, abetting violence against Our agents, conspiring unsanctioned detention of Our agents, and unnecessary cruelty toward same. As Lord Absolute of the Thronelands We declare you Our enemy, guilty of malfeasance, murder, conspiring at murder for profit, and extortion. At misdirection regarding royally granted privileges and fees. Forestalling royal edicts, altering decrees, deliberately and knowingly thwarting the lex regia and interfering with the lex terrae(74). Of working counter lex et consuetudo regni(75). We suppose We have neglected some of your mischief against Us, even with such a list. The results for you will be the same regardless."
"Our sister in like sovereignty and autonomy, sometime defender of Our person, has been most eager for your detention. Once We have learned all We desire from you, We may freely make of you Our gift to her. We do freely make a gift of Frichestah to her, if she so desires it."
"Yes, Your Most Puissant Majesty." Niem Dir purred.
"Before that happy hour," Evendal added wryly. "You, Frichestah, shall list the names of those you have killed and subjugated, the reasons, and whereabouts of those yet living. Lialityne, if you would be so kind?"
"In all good will, Your Majesty." The young lady whispered. "I am ready."
When that was accomplished, Evendal had a question. "Frichestah, what is Mar-telohema to you that you do her bidding?"
"She has been a good friend. We take care of each other. Several times she has kept me from becoming dedititii(76). And I have removed her enemies, been her strong arm, and played guardian or watch-cat on occasion."
"Telohema, is all that we have heard so far accurate?"
"Yes." Came the reply, weightless and bald.
"So tell Us, Telohema, what else have you done that is contrary to the laws and equity you were pledged to enforce? What have We not mentioned?"
"I have avoided the distress so many others are in financially. By charging defendants for every decreet absolvitor, every dismissal of a claim. By subtracting my own fee from demurrage owed to ship owners... By learning, from the King's Guard, when and where Polgern's lieutenants were scheduling a worker-sweep, and bartering non-existent protection to the most likely targets there. Once when the owner of a ship died - and twice when the owner of some cargo died, I had a respondentia forged; a contract claiming the shipment or ship was pledged to me as security for a loan."
"I have violated the wills and bodies of citizens and entitled strangers, adult and pubescent, in private and in community... but not solely through sudden death. I have employed someone to do bodily harm to another over two dozen times."
Evendal felt a trifle dizzy. "Hold a moment. Telohema. Those violations committed 'in community...' Who else participated?"
"Frichestah. Three Guard..."
"You mean former-Guard."
The saemend shook her head. "No."
(70) Much as the ha'penny used to be. An incremental measure in copper. (71) Latin. In the law of divorce. Cruelty; anything which tends to bodily harm, and in that manner renders cohabitation unsafe. (72) the liberty to try trespassers, and exact payment. (73) Latin. A real action by which the grantee of a seignory could compel the tenants of the grantor to attorn to himself. (74) The royal or imperial law and the law of the land. (75) The law and custom of the realm. One of the names of the common law. (76) An approximate term from Roman law, applied here. Criminals who had been marked in the face or on the body with fire or an iron, so that the mark could not be erased, and subsequently manumitted.
This is, perhaps, the most 'convoluted' chapter so far (I agree, Rob). More to come.