Abtalion looked back at Laisha who nodded to him.
“Her Majesty has authorized additional efforts to apprehend Thealos Quickfellow. Should one young man have been so difficult to find and keep, Elder Nordain? But she would hear your serious accusation. Proceed.”
Nordain shrugged and began pacing in a slow circle. His long ash-blond hair bounced as he walked and he too clasped his hands behind his back. The single pockmark on his cheek was livid against his pale face. Thealos had always been intimidated by the man. But after all he had experienced in the Shoreland in recent weeks, the Council Elder looked fat and tired instead of daunting.
“Your Majesty, it was my hope that this matter would be settled by the Council of Elders and the Sunedrion instead of wasting your royal time.” Nordain looked up at Laisha, but she neither answered him nor changed her expression, so he continued. “What do you know of the Quickfellow treason?”
Abtalion smoothed the fringes of his goatee. “You were called on to speak, Nordain, not to pester Her Majesty with your questions.” Though his voice was soft, it stung.
Nordain gave Abtalion a sharp look. “If that is the way you’d like to play this out, Chancellor, so be it. Need I remind you that I am the Council Elder of Vannier? My jurisdiction is enough to handle this matter.”
Abtalion leaned forward. “Young men refusing to choose a calling are within your jurisdiction, Council Elder. Treason is the domain of the High Council. Her Majesty wants to make sure that is clear to everyone in attendance today. What evidence do you have that Thealos Quickfellow is guilty of treason?”
Nordain stood imperiously. “He condemned himself with his own mouth in front of a hall full of witnesses. I have them all here, Chancellor. Council Elder Trinton was in the room.” He pointed to the quadrant of the room dedicated to Keasorn. “So were Ashbin and Graeve. I even have the lad’s own Correl here to offer his witness. Thealos Quickfellow spoke out against the authority of the Silverbornes to rule the Shae according to the will of the gods. Do I need to ask each one to stand up here and offer testimony or will my testimony suffice?”
Abtalion leaned back, stroking his mouth. “What other evidence do you have?”
Nordain chuckled coldly. “That isn’t enough? But there is more if you are determined to have it. The Council Elders met after the boy’s broken oath—remember that well, a broken oath—and dispatched a quaere to find him. He was arrested in the streets of Sol after much bloodshed and confusion, including the death of one of the members of the quaere. That was when we learned he was under the protection of a Sleepwalker. I found that very strange. What would a humble son of a barter be doing with a Sleepwalker?”
Nordain waved his arm in a broad circle. “When we finally apprehended the boy in the Shoreland, he invented wild stories about the humans and their armies. He refused to come home and had to be bound and dragged. Near the very borders of our country, while under custody of the Crimson Wolfsmen, the Sleepwalker attacked to free him. This Sleepwalker seriously wounded two quaeres. Who knows what Forbidden magic he used to do that? Need I remind the High Council that the Crimson Wolfsmen are the sworn protectors of the royal family? An attack against them is an attack against Her Majesty. Yet another sign of Thealos’ guilt.” He folded his hands in front of him. “What is left to say, Chancellor? Does the Princess wish to pass judgment on him now before he’s been caught? I, for one, would like to hear his excuses.”
“Thank you, Council Elder. You may be seated.”
Nordain bowed and returned to his stuffed chair on the dais.
The chancellor stood and, head bowed, approached the center of the Circle. “You say you heard treason that night in the Council Elder’s hall. Her Majesty will not dispute your version of the events. Are there any others who would like to offer words in favor of the accused?”
He looked pointedly at Thealos’ father, who did not even look up. Thealos writhed in his seat, clenching the armrests on his chair until his fingers ached. How could he expect Correl to defend him? How could he expect that after what he had done to shame his family? Abandoning home without so much as a hug farewell?
A few shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but no one spoke.