Tristam struggled to maintain his composure as the room once again dissolved into murmurs. Of course that was what Robert would say. What did Tristam have to threaten him with that didn’t pale against the Head Councilman’s influence?
Willem sat back in his seat. “I believe we’ve taken care of that,” he said. “I will be requesting a full investigation into Tristam for bringing false charges against me.”
Malikel cleared his throat. “May I suggest that the messenger might not be trusted to give a truthful testimony in front of the accused?”
“How much longer must we put up with this nonsense?” said Willem. “We have preparations to make. Tristam of Brancel has already wasted enough of our time in a clear effort to delay our attack on the barbarians. I move to dismiss discussion of this subject to a later time.”
It was a close vote, but it came out in Willem’s favor. Willem looked pointedly at Tristam. “You are dismissed, soldier.”
There was finality to that command, and there was nothing Tristam could do except bow and walk away. Robert, still in Fitz’s grip, avoided Tristam’s gaze as he passed. Tristam tried his best to hold his head high on his way to the door, fighting the despair that was starting to take root in his stomach. They had staked so much on this. What could they do now?
Tristam was so caught up in his own frustrations that he didn’t notice that someone was trying to talk to him. When he finally realized someone had spoken his name, he turned to see a young servant girl looking urgently up at him. He returned her gaze, surprised to be approached so by one of the staff. She looked familiar.
“Lord Tristam,” she said, her voice low. “Can anyone speak in front of the Council?”
“Anyone?” he echoed dumbly before he finally made sense of her question. “Anyone, yes. But only before Willem closes the meeting.”
She nodded then, and her face took on a mask of determination. Tristam watched in bemusement as she made straight for the herald. The two exchanged a few words, and she seemed to be arguing with him, though Tristam couldn’t make out what was said.
Finally, the herald drew breath for an announcement. “Darylene of Forge would like to make a statement before the Council.” His voice lacked his usual confidence, and he glanced uncertainly at the serving girl behind him.
“What is the meaning of this? We’ve had enough oddities today,” said Willem. Tristam was surprised to hear alarm in Willem’s voice, given the cool disdain with which the Head Councilman had responded to Tristam’s accusations. Then Tristam recognized the girl. Darylene of Forge was Willem’s mistress.
“We haven’t closed the Council meeting yet,” said Malikel. “The lady has a right to speak.”
Darylene didn’t look at all at ease in front of the Council. She glanced from Councilman to Councilman, though she seemed to studiously avoid Willem’s gaze. “I’m sorry, milords,” she said. She sounded younger than she looked. Tristam had thought her older because of her association with Willem, but he now realized she was probably close to his own age, if not younger. “I’ve been listening to the young lord’s testimony, and I can tell you that he’s both right and wrong.
“I am…privy to some of the Head Councilman’s private dealings,” she continued. Some knowing glances passed between the Councilmen, and a few snickers sounded from the observing benches. It took no small amount of courage, Tristam thought, to brave such scrutiny.
Darylene waited for the room to quiet. “The messenger Robert of Forge is, in truth, Robert of Edlan. He lied about working for Whitt Manor. He has actually been carrying messages directly between Sir Willem and Duke Symon of Edlan. They have been working together to overthrow Forge’s Council.”
Pandemonium. Willem shouted something about the girl having lost her mind, and Malikel called for order as Tristam struggled to understand what he’d heard. Had he misread the message from Willem?
“The girl tells lies,” said Willem. “She must be in the employ of my enemies.”