Trial of Intentions (51 page)

Van Steward offered an angry sigh. “It's not really a mystery, is it? Who profits most from E'Sau's death?” Her general proceeded to answer his own question. “E'Sau's vote always aligned with Artixan's—not from compulsion, but from oneness of mind. And Artixan's vote typically supports the regent for much the same reason. There are important matters to be decided soon, and some recent decisions that Roth may call to be voted on again. It will take time for the Sodality to name E'Sau's successor. Meanwhile, the balance of votes shifts in Roth's favor.”

“The Sodality will move fast to replace E'Sau,” Artixan assured them.

“It's more than the High Council,” Grant reminded them. “It's also Convocation. Losing E'Sau, we lose a vote on both.”

Grant looked directly at Helaina. “You've lost a strong voice for bringing rulers together a third time. Whoever replaces E'Sau won't have the same credibility, simply because he'll be new and untested.”

Anger blossomed in the pit of her stomach. “If Roth is responsible for this, I'll have him executed this very day. Justice won't be cheated. E'Sau's death will not be made a matter of politics.”

A shocked and horrified whisper from Braethen interrupted them, “Dead gods.”

The sodalist crept to one side of the chair and bent down, inspecting the dagger sticking out of E'Sau's neck. He then turned to Artixan, who still knelt on the floor.

“You should look at this,” Braethen said to the Sheason.

Artixan stood and shuffled to one side, inclining toward the weapon. Helaina watched as some revelation stole into her friend's face. Without waiting to hear what they saw there, she stepped forward to look for herself. On the flat, round end of the dagger handle, graven on the steel, was the three-ring emblem of the Sheason Order. The implication was obvious. Apparently, removing E'Sau from the balance of power wasn't enough for her enemies.

Grant seemed to have no need to inspect it for himself. “The three-ring knife is mostly ceremonial, but it's manufactured individually for each man or woman taken into the order. There'll be a hunt for the renderer who has lost his knife, but the real hunt isn't about one man. That's plain enough.”

Van Steward spoke, his voice loud and resonant. “We'll find the one responsible. This very hour I will mobilize—”

“We've already started that process,” came a voice from the hallway. Roth entered the room, followed by Jermond Pleades, First Counselor at the Court of Judicature. “Your men are welcome to join the League in pursuit of justice on this matter, General.”

Helaina adopted a more formal posture and stepped between the Ascendant and Artixan, knowing emotions would be running high. “And how did you know to start such a search so fast, Roth?”

A smile so faint that Helaina wasn't sure she'd seen it at all crossed Roth's lips. “Rather simply. E'Sau and his second-in-command, Sodalist Urieh Palon, were scheduled to meet with Counsel Pleades and myself directly following Convocation today. Palon arrived as scheduled, and we spoke idly, waiting on E'Sau. Eventually, the three of us came here, thinking the First Sodalist had perhaps forgotten our appointment. To our dismay, we found this brutal scene. We went directly to inform his family, and bring them here to verify—”

A small woman pushed past Roth. Her honey-gold hair was coiled in a bun, her expression a griever's frown. She drew after her two children.

Shameless bastard even brought the children.
This wasn't verification of the dead. This was waging the war of public opinion.

“Artixan?” E'Sau's widow spoke his name with a pleading voice.
Tell me it's not so.
Make it not so,
that tone said. They knew each other, of course. Artixan and E'Sau were as close as she and Artixan were.

“Deliah, I'm so sorry.” He stepped past the body, putting himself between her and E'Sau. “There's no need for you to see this. Don't remember him this way.”

“Artixan,” Roth interjected with a reverence Helaina knew to her bones was an affectation, “this is a serious matter. She needs to verify—”

The look Artixan gave Roth was heavy and hateful. “Ascendant, I knew and loved this man like a brother. It is E'Sau. And this woman,” his throat thickened with emotion, “is my friend. I would spare her.…”

Deliah rushed forward into Artixan's arms, and buried her face in his chest. She sobbed, as behind her the two children stood near Roth's legs with wet cheeks. Seeing them, Artixan motioned for Roth to step back, and gently drew Deliah to her children. There, he slowly knelt, taking them all into his embrace. After a long while, he pulled back enough to speak to them.

“Let me tell you what I believe.” He gave them a reassuring smile through eyes glassy with his own tears. “I believe there's a good place reserved for good people. A place they go to after this world, where they wait with great anticipation for the day their loved ones join them.” He placed a hand alongside the older child's face. “That's where your father is, Alon. And until your time comes to see him again, you have me to help you.”

Their mother reached out and wiped her children's eyes, a brave smile on her face.

“That's the promise he and I made to one another,” said Artixan. “And I keep my promises.”

They fell silent again for a while, sharing a series of hugs.

“Now,” Artixan finally said. “There's some work for me to do. We have some justice to see to. And when I'm through here, I'll come and look in on you.”

Van Steward gave a hand signal, and two men came into view. Escorts.

“He loved you,” Deliah said to Artixan. “We all do.”

He seemed momentarily incapable of words. “And I you. Anything you need.”

She gave him a parting embrace, and gathered her small ones on her way down the hall, past Roth and the first counselor.

When the door below was heard to shut, Artixan's face changed visibly. Helaina could feel the man's anger. “How dare you use Deliah and her family as an opinion ploy.”

“It was poor judgment on my part,” Roth conceded with a politician's regret. “I'm sorry. I seem to compulsorily return to procedure in times like this.”

“That's a load of horseshit,” Grant said. “You apologize after the fact, but still hope the news of it spreads. Builds public sentiment.”

“I assure you nothing could be further from the truth,” said Roth.

“And careful of you, Ascendant, to take the company of one sodalist while you have another killed.” Artixan had squared his shoulders to the man.

Roth showed Artixan a sympathetic expression. “My friend, you and I have had our differences, but I would never endeavor to do what you imply. I understand your need to assign blame, and, knowing your grief, don't hold it against you. But please refrain from pursuing this line of thinking. I'm your greatest ally in this, and we should get started, since it would seem someone in your order is the culprit. And I would assume you'd want to know who this person is and expulse him from your ranks.”

Van Steward stepped near to Helaina's side, seeming to likewise want to create a barrier between the men. “One day, Staned, I will cut out your crafty tongue.”

The Ascendant didn't even bother to acknowledge the general's comment. “My lady,” he began, addressing Helaina, “I think I can add some light of understanding to what has happened here.” He beckoned the first counselor forward, who she noticed now carried a book in his hands. “The topic of the meeting E'Sau set with us, but to which he never, unfortunately, arrived, was the schism in the Sheason Order. While we hadn't yet spoken of it in depth, he suggested to me that he feared the rift had grown so bitter as to be a threat to the safety of the people and his own order.”

“Take care, Ascendant, not to defame this man,” Artixan said, his voice strained.

“I would do no such thing,” Roth replied, his voice a model of sincerity. “But, apparently, the infighting has become so severe that E'Sau's own sodality was at a loss as to how to continue to serve.”

“What do you mean?” Artixan asked, the threat clear in his voice.

“I mean that he realized he had to decide which side of this Sheason schism his people would support.” Roth showed them all a sympathetic expression, as one who might appreciate the difficulties of leadership. “But as an advocate of civility and a keeper of the law, the First Sodalist had intended to unify his followers behind those Sheason who had renounced their arcane practices.”

“How do you know this?” Helaina asked. “You said yourself that he hadn't spoken deeply about it.”

Counsel Pleades stepped closer. “When we came here earlier this evening with Sodalist Palon, and found E'Sau dead, we conducted an initial search for evidence. We, of course, found the three-ring emblem of the Sheason on the murder weapon, but we also found this.” He raised the book in his hands. “It is the First Sodalist's personal journal. In it, he goes into some depth about his fears for the Sheason Order, for his own followers, and for the people both orders are meant to serve.”

Helaina looked at the diary, then to Roth's face, scrutinizing the man for any momentary hint of duplicity or falsehood. The Ascendant maintained an immaculate fa
ç
ade of regret and officiousness.

Roth wasn't finished. “And I'm afraid he even provides a list of names of those Sheason whose radical behavior he fears most. It would seem, my lady, that the schism is deeper than we thought, and that most Sheason have chosen a path contrary to the law.” Roth paused dramatically before saying, “They are now not only a threat to civil peace, but to your work at Convocation.”

Helaina leveled a wrathful stare on the man. “And how is that, Ascendant Staned?”

“My dear lady,” the man replied, “it's simple. The Sheason defy the Civilization Order, and in doing so, mock your own decree. They undermine the authority and respect you need to possess if other nations are to commit themselves to your cause.”

“A cause, I might remind you, Ascendant, that you don't believe in,” Helaina said.

“I don't deny it, my lady. But I, for one, respect our differences. And more importantly, I respect your office. I would be remiss as a member of your Council if I didn't advise you as I do now.”

“Where is Sodalist Palon?” Artixan inquired.

“We took Palon back to the League house; the man is distraught,” the first counselor answered. “We've made him as comfortable as possible, while we set in motion an investigation of this matter. Artixan”—Counsel Pleades looked at Helaina's closest friend—“this is a serious indictment. And … your name is written on these pages.”

Bastard!
She wanted nothing more than to exercise the power of her office to excise—with prejudice!—the poisonous element of her ruling council.
Iron fist in a velvet glove.
She prepared to loose a savage tirade on Roth when the young sodalist, Braethen, cut in. “May I see the diary?”

The first counselor looked momentarily hesitant before handing the book over. For several moments the room was quiet while Braethen looked through the last pages of the journal. An expression of focused concentration impressed her with some new hope. The young man then handed the volume back to the first counselor.

“I assume,” Braethen said rather indifferently, “that as part of your investigation, First Counsel”—Helaina smiled inside that the young sodalist addressed Pleades and not Roth—“you will verify the authenticity of those entries in the diary that make these claims about the Sheason.”

Counsel Pleades showed a look of momentary confusion, as though such had not occurred to him. Helaina noted, too, that when the young sodalist asked his question, he was not looking at Pleades, but Roth. At this, a thin smile did cross her face.

Then the counselor gathered himself. “We will be thorough,” he replied.

“Are you suggesting that these entries were not made by E'Sau?” Roth asked, glaring at Braethen with incredulity.

“I am suggesting you be … thorough,” Braethen returned.

Grant laughed openly, drawing a sharp look from Roth.

Braethen continued. “These pages aren't consistent with what I know about the man, and I'm guessing those who knew him better would say the same.”

“I think, my young man, that this is precisely the point. E'Sau's secret conflict was what to do about his concerns. They were worries he kept private, until reaching out to me. A meeting that it would appear someone had great motivation he never attend.”

Van Steward had grown impatient with the discussion. “My men will be paired with every leagueman and counselor assigned to investigate this matter. Nothing happens unless we're present. Is that understood?”

“I would have it no other way,” Roth agreed. “Thank you, General.”

Then Roth and Pleades exited the room, leaving them again in the company of her murdered friend. Grant put a reassuring hand on Helaina's arm, and spoke over her shoulder.

“What have you waited for the Ascendant to leave to tell us, Sodalist?” her husband asked.

Braethen looked over at them, drawn, it seemed, from his own inner reasonings. “If Counsel Pleades does as we've asked, and checks the authenticity of those diary entries, he won't find any inconsistencies of penmanship or ink or paper or style. They'll seem in every regard the writing of E'Sau.”

“Grand news,” Grant said.

“But I didn't ask the question because I believed he'd find anything.” Braethen shifted his eyes to look at Artixan. “I asked to gauge the Ascendant's reaction to the request. I could be wrong, but I thought I saw an instant of doubt in his eyes.”

Helaina turned to her old friend. “Did you see this, too?” she asked Artixan.