“Evidence? There were well over fifty witnesses,” said Kyra.
“I did inform him of that. Regardless, the magistrate is not convinced.” Malikel’s eyes conveyed far more meaning than his words.
“What can we do, then?” said Kyra. A knot of panic was forming in Kyra’s stomach, a looming inevitability that she refused to accept.
“Willem is a powerful man. This particular magistrate is one of his favorites, as is Lord Agan. There may not be much we can do.”
It was an expression of powerlessness that Kyra heard every day in the beggars’ sector, but she had never expected to hear it in the Defense Minister’s study. She glanced over at Tristam and, in growing disbelief, saw the resigned expression on his face as well.
“You’re a member of the Council, Malikel,” she said. “Idalee was beaten in broad daylight.”
“By some very well-connected young men,” said Tristam. He was speaking gently now, as if she were some madwoman who might go into fits. “It’s crazy and wrong, Kyra, but there’s a reason why they thought they could get away with it.”
Kyra stared at Tristam, unable to wrap her mind around the fact that he agreed with Malikel. “There’s a lass on the brink of death and more people who could testify to this than could fit in the magistrate’s study. I don’t understand the difficulty.”
Malikel and Tristam exchanged a glance, and the look of understanding that passed between them was the final straw. Kyra stood up so quickly that her chair toppled backward and clattered on the stone behind her. “Are we finished here?” She needed to leave before she did something she would regret. When Malikel didn’t respond, she stormed out.
It was all she could do not to scream her frustration as she ran out into the courtyard below. She’d known it would be hard to get justice for Idalee, but somehow she’d allowed herself to hope that Malikel, at least, could help her. Are you really so surprised? Did you really think you could go up against three noblemen and bring them down in the courts? She’d been a fool to think anything would be different now that she was in the Palace. A gutter rat in fancy clothes was still a gutter rat. The sons of Lord Agan would go on with their lives as if this had never happened, while Idalee struggled to draw breath in Ilona’s patient room.
Kyra headed for the Palace gate, unable even to look at the fatpurses she passed. Who were these people who lorded over the city and did what they wished? The wallhuggers are not your friends, and they never will be.
She’d walked only a short distance when she noticed Tristam trailing her. She didn’t slow, but he caught up.
“Are you content to let this go too?” she snapped.
He took a while to answer. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice subdued. “I hate this as well. Malikel tried everything in his power.”
“Tried what?” Kyra asked. “He’s a member of the Council. He’s not some beggar off the streets.” A servant coming down the pathway toward them stopped short at Kyra’s murderous gaze and stepped off the pathway to go around them.
“Malikel is bound by the law,” said Tristam. “He cannot simply ignore the magistrate’s ruling and do as he wishes. But he’s been making changes. He’s been gathering support from other Council members who also hate the corruption, and together they’re starting to form a block of votes.”
“I don’t want a lesson in politics. I want the men who did this to hang from the city walls.”
Kyra froze. Standing near the pathway were Willem, Lord Agan’s three sons, and a man in black magistrate’s robes. They looked to be finishing a conversation. The magistrate left in the opposite direction, but Willem came toward them.