“You witnessed their meeting?”
“I did, my lord. I wasn’t supposed to, but I knew a hidden place in Father’s study where I could hear his meetings. I was worried, you see. The sword had changed him so much, and with the Hope Killer’s return I wondered what he might do. Father told Lord Verniers he intended to return the sword to the Hope Killer. Lord Verniers became very angry, calling Father a traitor, saying he would have the Emperor send guards to arrest him . . . But Father showed him the sword, and he became quiet. Father said with this sword the Hope Killer was sure to prevail in his duel in the Isles, if Lord Verniers voiced no objection to its use he would receive a great reward.”
“I see. And the nature of this reward?”
“Knowledge. The Hope Killer would relate the story of his life and the reasoning of mad King Janus in starting the war.”
“A rich reward indeed, to be cherished by any historian.”
Velsus levelled his gaze on me, his aspect the unwavering focus of a leopard eyeing cornered prey. “You did travel with the Imperial prisoner to the Meldenean Isles, did you not?”
“At the Emperor’s order,” I said.
“Quite so, but also, I recall, at your own request. And during the voyage did the savage keep his end of the bargain? Did he tell you his sorry tale?”
“He related what I believe to be a partially accurate account of his role in the invasion.”
“And you gave him the sword.”
“Governor Aruan gave him the sword. A plain weapon of little distinction, I might add.”
Velsus gave a dismissive wave. “The Northmen were renowned for their ability to conceal their magics. And on arrival at the Meldenean capital, having received your reward, did you feel no obligation to warn the Hope Killer’s opponent that he now faced a foe rendered invincible by unnatural means? And in doing so did you not ensure the Hope Killer would prevail in the duel, a contest that by all accounts lasted barely a second, thereby robbing our murdered Hope of all justice?”
“There was no warning to be given.” I glanced at Jervia, her head now lowered, face drawn in abject misery. “I do not know what threats have forced lies from this unfortunate woman. And it grieves me to see her distressed on my account. But if Al Sorna was made invincible that day, it was not by such a mundane thing as his sword.”
Velsus descended the steps, moving with measured deliberation as he advanced towards me. “See how he wriggles on the hook, my lords. See how he squirms and gives voice to yet more falsehood. This vile man, picked out and ascended to high station by the Emperor’s grace, and yet willing to sell himself like the cheapest whore for the words of a savage. Were that his only crime, it would be perhaps forgivable, upon receipt of due punishment naturally, for all men are weak and liable to seduction. However, my lords, it transpires this creature has an even greater crime to account for.”
He turned back to the dais, pausing to address Jervia with a few curt words of dismissal. She raised her gaze to me as the guards led her out, tears flowing freely as she mouthed, “My father,” eyes rich in appeal for understanding. I replied with the barest nod, even managing a small smile before she was led from the throne room.
“I humbly call upon the Empress Emeren I,” Velsus intoned, bowing low before the dais. “To graciously consent to bear witness in this matter.”
The Empress waited a moment before standing, an action that required all others present to kneel. I duly sank to one knee, gesturing for Fornella to follow suit. This was one piece of etiquette we could not afford to ignore, disrespect of the Imperial person being punishable by instant death.
I noted how Emeren’s eyes lingered again on Fornella, seeing the brief moment of calculation before she turned away. A wrinkle in her scheme, I decided. An unwanted complication.
“As all here will know,” the Empress began, “shortly before my Choosing, an attempt was made on my life and the life of my son. Many trusted and beloved servants died in this attack and my son and I escaped death by only the narrowest of margins. My attackers were a Volarian woman and a servant of the same fanatical heretic sect as the Hope Killer himself. It became clear to me in the course of my ordeal that these assassins had received intimate intelligence regarding my home, for how else could they gain access with such ease? Before I was rescued by the brave intervention of Commander Hevren, the woman spoke to me.” She raised an arm, the finger pointed at me, straight and unwavering. “Naming this man as the source of her intelligence. Apparently, he wanted me to know of his involvement, as befits a man mired in jealousy and hatred.”