Had he been labouring under the delusion that abstract ideals such as justice or truth had anything to do with these proceedings he would have been even more outraged and affronted. Yet – naively perhaps – he found that he could not entirely set aside the belief that some element of reason and logic must apply. And so he cast Salleen a glare and called out, challenging: ‘Where is the evidence?’
The old priestess actually nodded her bird-like shaven head and looked to Feneresh. ‘Have you any more witnesses to call?’
Feneresh bowed. ‘Just two, Magistrate.’
‘Proceed, then.’
Feneresh turned to one of the Fangs of D’rek. ‘Bring forth the priest Koarsden Taneth.’
Tayschrenn’s breath actually caught. D’rek’s mercy … what on earth could they want with Koarsden? He looked at Tallow, but the fellow was still sitting with his eyes downcast, hands clasped before him, thumbs tapping. The Invigilator had yet to speak, but Tayschrenn knew him to be the true architect of all this – and a masterful one at that.
Koarsden was dragged forward by one of the Fangs. The tall and always composed priest looked far from dignified now. He was sweating, his usually immaculate robes dishevelled, and though Tayschrenn sought his gaze his friend would not meet his eyes. His heart clenched. Oh, Koarsden … not you too. He found his own eyes stinging, and looked away, blinking.
‘Koarsden Taneth,’ Feneresh began, ‘you know the accused?’
Koarsden nodded, then coughed into a fist, murmuring, ‘Yes.’
‘Would you describe yourself as his friend – in as much as this overly proud and disdainful man could be said to have any friends at all?’
Still unable to look at Tayschrenn, Koarsden nodded again, then added, weakly, ‘Yes.’
‘Would you say the accused and the honoured former Demidrek Ithell were close?’
Koarsden frowned, but nodded, ‘Yes. I would say so.’
‘And yet, was he present when Ithell was gathered up by D’rek?’
Koarsden shook his head. ‘No. He was not.’
Feneresh was looking at the judges as he went on, ‘Is it not true that in fact several days passed before the accused even bothered to enquire after the welfare of his great friend and mentor?’
Koarsden bit his lip, frowning again, but nodded. ‘Yes. It had been a few days, but—’
‘Thank you!’ Feneresh cut in. ‘And tell me, after Ithell’s passing, did you detect any expression of mourning or grief from the accused?’
Now Koarsden was blinking, and it seemed to Tayschrenn that the man was holding back tears. ‘No. He displayed none – yet everyone is different in—’
‘Just answer the question!’ Feneresh shouted. ‘Now … think carefully about this. In your discussions with him, what was the accused’s opinion of the appointment of Invigilator Tallow as temporary Demidrek?’
Koarsden had turned his face away from Tayschrenn – as if he could not bear to risk a glance; his hands were fists at his sides. ‘He … disapproved…’
‘Disapproved?’
‘He thought it … wrong.’
‘Wrong? I see. Who, then, did he think should have been appointed?’
Koarsden cleared his throat and swallowed hard, as if choking. ‘Someone … someone from within the temple, I imagine.’
‘And who would this have been, pray tell?’
Now the young priest leaned his head back, blinking rapidly. He took a shuddering breath as if steeling himself, and said, ‘Himself, I think.’
Tayschrenn had to suppress a groan. He knew the terrible pressure that could be brought to bear upon anyone – the threats, the promises, the physical and emotional torture – but he’d hoped that Koarsden would have somehow resisted it all, somehow held out. Shouldn’t he have? He wondered, then, whether he had ever really understood people at all.
Feneresh was nodding slowly and deliberately – for the benefit of the court. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ He waved Koarsden away. ‘You may go. And thank you for your service to this investigation. I realize it must have been difficult for you.’
Koarsden turned to go, but at the last instant paused as if he would turn back, perhaps to look at Tayschrenn at last, and Tayschrenn steeled himself not to reveal the surprising hurt that clenched his heart. Yet Koarsden’s will, or intent, faltered, and he could not bring himself to raise his gaze all the way. His shoulders fell, and he exited by the small side door.
Now Feneresh addressed the court once more, calling his last witness, and saying a name that Tayschrenn could not believe he heard. He flinched as if stabbed, and realized that all the torment he’d endured to this point was but the shallowest preface to what was about to come.
For Feneresh had called Silla Leansath.
She came on the arm of one of the Fangs of D’rek. Indeed, it appeared that the court custodian was supporting her as he drew her forward. She walked listlessly, her arms at her sides hidden beneath her long robes. She looked unwell to Tayschrenn, thin and drawn, her long hair clinging sweaty and unwashed to her skull.
Unlike Koarsden, she looked directly at him – yet not. No recognition glimmered in her dark eyes. No emotion whatsoever animated them. He thought it was as if she were asleep, or profoundly withdrawn.
‘Silla Leansath,’ Feneresh began, ‘do you recognize the accused?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, her voice flat and dull.
‘You are a close friend of the accused?’
‘Yes.’
‘Perhaps even the closest?’
Silla licked her lips, murmured, ‘Yes.’
‘So close,’ Feneresh said, turning to address the entire court, ‘that you met in his quarters many times late after hours, in defiance of all rules?’
She swayed, blinking, but nodded, and said, ‘Yes.’
‘And during those long, ah, conversations, what did the accused say to you regarding the arrival and installation of Invigilator Tallow?’
‘He…’ Silla paused, licked her lips, then continued, ‘he was … furious. He thought he should’ve been named the next Demidrek.’
Tayschrenn would have thought he was dreaming were she not standing before him staring him directly in the eye, unblinking, as if mesmerized.
Feneresh nodded his understanding. ‘I see. And what of the passing of his mentor, Ithell? What private demonstrations of mourning did you witness? What confessions of loss and heartbreak?’
She drew a heavy breath, moved to raise an arm as if to wipe her face but hurriedly lowered it before it emerged from the loose folds of her robes. ‘I saw none such. He seemed … indifferent to the man’s death.’
Tayschrenn could only stare; was this some imposter? An illusion? Yet no sorcery could possibly be enacted here – all would sense it. It was she.
Silla … what have they done to you? What had he done to her? Was she not standing here because of him? Because of his selfishness? His pride in refusing to flee? His mind seemed to wallow and capsize as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing, what was unfolding before his eyes.
Feneresh shook his head as if appalled. And he sighed heavily, as if greatly saddened. ‘I see. And do you know what the accused was doing during his long errands so far beneath the temple?’
Silla swayed, blinking once more, then righted herself. ‘Yes.’
‘And?’ Feneresh prompted.