“As the prime instigator undoubtedly knows,” Sister Agika raised her voice, “all witnesses in an Inquisition grand trial wear the silver chains during their testimony to bind them to the Ancestor’s truth.”
Sherzal’s gaze flickered towards the gathered lords. With a forced smile she presented her wrists to Sera and the guard dutifully bound the thin chain around the royal wrists, wrapping them half a dozen times before leaving the ends hanging loose.
“Now, prime instigator.” Brother Pelter positioned himself before the emperor’s sister. “Honourable Sherzal. If I may—”
“You didn’t ask me how I plead.” Abbess Glass raised her voice just as she would on seeing novices misbehaving in the cloister.
Brother Pelter rounded on her, mouth working but managing to articulate no words.
“It is customary.” Sister Agika nodded.
Pelter gathered himself. “My apologies. I had assumed that you would try to cling to a claim of innocence and force us to the unpleasantness of putting an abbess of the Church to the sternest of questioning. Am I to understand that you wish to plead guilty and move directly to sentencing?”
Abbess Glass let her gaze wander from Pelter’s flushed cheeks to the men and women on the lords’ benches. Sherzal had done an impressive job to array such a large fraction of the Sis beneath her roof. Some of course would never place themselves in her power, but many had decided to entrust themselves, old allies, new allies, or just houses with sufficient confidence in their own power and in Sherzal’s fear of the emperor’s censure to keep them safe. The Sis have a saying: “Murder the wrong man and he’ll kill you.”
“I am not pleading guilty, no.”
Pelter threw up his hands with a noise of disgust. “So you claim innocence and waste our time.” He turned back to Sherzal, mouth opening to speak.
“I’m not pleading innocent either,” Glass said.
Pelter didn’t bother to turn but he did lift his voice. “Your grasp on Church law seems to be as feeble as your grasp on Church doctrine, heretic.”
Some among the lords laughed at that. Glass spotted Arabella Jotsis and Joeli Namsis sitting just a few seats apart on benches to the left of the lords, Terra Mensis between them.
“I’m pleading special dispensation,” Glass said.
“Special . . . ?” Pelter turned back to her with a bewildered smile, hands circling to bring forth some explanation.
“Special dispensation,” Glass said. “I have permission from High Priest Nevis and High Inquisitor Gemon to practise heresy.”
A rumble went through the crowd, heated muttering, glances exchanged.
“Why would—” Pelter abandoned questions in favour of accusation. “No you don’t! That’s a lie! You expect us to believe such nonsense just because you have the audacity to speak it?”
“I have written permission. Signed and sealed.” Glass met the inquisitor’s stare.
“No you do not!” Pelter shouted. Then more quietly, “We searched you!”
Agika struck the table before her. “Produce these documents or fall silent, abbess. Such claims cannot stand upon the word of the accused.”
“My hands are tied.” Glass lifted her wrists. “But if someone were to reach into my habit?” She pressed her hands to her left side. The document had spent most of the journey strapped high on her left thigh but in the seclusion of a palace privy Glass had placed it for more ready access just before coming to trial.
Sera clanked across, meeting Glass’s eyes with a puzzled look as she retrieved the parchment, then passed it to the judges and returned to her station. Pelter eyed his colleagues furiously as if the offending article should have first been delivered into his hands.
The three inquisitors crowded around the parchment, holding corners to keep it flat.
“It bears the high inquisitor’s seal . . .” Seldom said.
“A forgery.” Dimeon dismissed it with a wave. “The abbess once held that office herself! She kept her seal and—”
“It’s Gemon’s seal,” Agika said. “And his signature.”
“I’m not so sure,” Brother Dimeon rumbled.
“There is also High Priest Nevis’s seal and signature.” Agika raised her head and looked towards Glass. “Why would both men give their permission for heresy?”
Seldom stood up, staring at Glass in confusion. “And why would you keep it secret?”
Glass tilted her head and allowed herself a smile. “How else to get a full Inquisition trial beneath the roof of the emperor’s sister and the woman herself in chains before the rail?”
Laughter rose from the lords’ bench at this, some of it simple amusement, some shocked, some nervous and confused. Here and there a hint of realization dawned. Carvon Jotsis saw it and his eyes widened.
Sherzal shook her arms in an attempt to be rid of the silver chain.
“Judges!” Glass barked out the word. “Your witness has not been given permission to depart.”
Agika stood now, then Dimeon, dwarfing her. “What is the meaning of this nonsense?” he boomed.
“Honourable Sherzal!” Agika ignored her fellow judge. “You will remain, please.” She waved to Sera who, white-faced, placed herself in Sherzal’s path. All around the margins of the great chamber members of Sherzal’s personal guard exchanged confused glances.
Glass bowed her head. “I collected you three judges—”
“You did not collect them! I collected them!” Pelter shouted.
“I knew where they would be, and when,” Glass said. “I chose the time of our departure. Thus I selected them.”
“I chose the time of our departure!” A note of desperation had entered Pelter’s voice. He looked to Sherzal for support. “I arrested her!”
Glass looked up. “And I chose when to take the action that made you arrest me.” She had thought Zole might go after Nona immediately but the girl had waited until Kettle left, perhaps knowing that Kettle would not have let Nona go without some means of finding her again. Even then Zole had hesitated. She had come to Glass seeking wisdom, and Glass had told her to follow her instinct. “I wanted you to bring me here.”
“But why?” Pelter, almost helpless now.
“No court of the Inquisition could ever be set up beneath the roof of the emperor’s sister without her invitation,” Glass said. “And neither the emperor nor the immediate members of his family can be put on trial anywhere but beneath a Lansis roof.”
“But Sherzal is not on trial!” Brother Dimeon blustered.
“She will be once Sister Agika has her arrested and charged.” Glass turned her gaze on Agika. “Sherzal’s agent took the Church’s only shipheart. The case for suspicion is simple and well documented. Under questioning she will admit her guilt and return what was stolen.”
Glass had lied when she said that she had chosen the judges. Pelter had been slower to act than anticipated and their journey east more convoluted. However, Agika and Seldom had been high on Glass’s list of possibles and she had prayed they would be found. She had also been aware that Brother Dimeon would be a likely inclusion since the last report on the man had him held by his duties on the path Pelter would almost certainly follow. In a minority, however, Brother Dimeon was an asset, his loyalty to Sherzal well known.
A decade earlier, after Glass had made her decision to leave her high office atop the Tower of Inquiry, but before she had announced it, she had set several acts of forward planning in motion. Prime amongst these acts was the fall from grace of certain of her most loyal inquisitors, Seldom and Agika among them. Their arguments and growing mistrust were both public and false, a deception agreed upon by both parties. Former holders of any high office were vulnerable both to their immediate successor and to all those subordinates who resented them. What better insulation against future extremis than to promote to the top of any list of enemies men and women who held secret loyalty to her?