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Authors: Dara Joy

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BOOK: Rital of Proof
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The members of the Septibunal all leaned forward in their seats, not immune to his charm.

"And?"

He smiled rakishly. "And with a slight bit of attitude—but nothing she couldn't handle." The room immediately broke out in raucous laughter.

Jorlan winked at Green.

Duchene Hawke's lips twitched. "Yes, we can imagine."

"Do not let his smooth tongue and handsome face turn your heads!" Marquelle Harmone sternly reminded them. "We have evidence to the contrary."

What evidence could you possibly have?
Green wondered.

"Bring the witness in!" Harmone called to one of the sentries.

Two sentries escorted a bedraggled youth into the room.

Green frowned, whispering to Avatar.
"It's that dotty upstairs servant; what was his name...?"

Green heard Avatar murmur something about him being a snip-butt but that's all.

"Opper," Jorlan supplied under his breath.

"State your name, please," Duchene Hawke commanded.

Opper looked up at the most powerful council on Forus moon and immediately began to preen.

Which did not endear him to these auspicious women in the least.

"I'm Opper."

"And what do you know about this matter?"

"Well, I was a servant for
hisself
in the Marquelle's house. Prepared him that night for...
you know...
the velvet touch."

Snickers peppered the room.

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Go on."

"Well, he was not too happy about being in the bed aps, you see."

Jorlan's face darkened.

"Just get to the point, please," Hawke said.

"So it was my job to ready him, you know, and all. And when I went to put the Tamryn sash on him, I noticed that he didn't have no... veil." Opper looked at his toe. "No veil at all."

A buzz of voices started up. He sounded very convincing.

Duchene Hawke asked, "Did you say anything at the time?"

"Of course I did!" Opper noticed that he had the room's attention, so he dove into his role. "I said to hisself, 'You don't have no proper veil!' and he says to me if I ever say anything to anyone he'll make it go bad for me. Then he struck me with his fist. In my face, hard like that!" He made a fist and punched his other hand.

Green glanced at Jorlan. So this was how his cheek had been bruised. This servant had struck him—in her own house! Her eyes narrowed at the orange-haired man. He would pay for that.

"He's a strong one, that velvet petal is." Opper rubbed at an imaginary spot on his cheek. "Hurt me bad, so I kept my mouth shut, as I'm only a servant and all. But when I heard about how there was some questioning of the matter, I did the right thing and came forward." He puffed his chest out and stood straight. It seemed Opper should have been a performer instead of a servant.

The Septibunal seemed to believe him. Green looked at Jorlan in dismay. This was very damaging.

Jorlan spoke low. "How could I have hit him if I was tied into the bed straps."

Duchene Hawke's mouth opened to respond to him, then closed, then opened again. "He's right. How could he hit you if he was tied up?"

"Well, I—I released him because he was making such a row about being tied up."

Ever the stateswoman, Green pounced on
that.
"Why would you release him?"

"He asked me to—for a little bit, and he pretended to be nice and I felt sorry for him."

"You felt sorry for him," Green parroted negatively. "But you did retie him."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Well, when I came into the room, he was tied up."

"Yes, well, I had to do that; it was my job."

Green's knowing look met Hawke's. She had just established that Jorlan was definitely tied up when she came into the room. "If he had no veil, why would you retie him into the straps?" she asked softly.

"Because that's my job!" he answered in a frantic whine.

"And he just let you?"

"We had a deal!"

"Before or after he hit you?"

"What difference does that make?"

"You tell me."

Opper put a halt to her interrogation. "I said all that I have to say! I'm not the one without the veil!" He hopped. "Least ways not on my fastening night." Several people chuckled.

"Take him out." Hawke instructed the guards.

"He's lying," Green said to the panel.

"Why would he lie, Marquelle?" Harmone interded. "He has nothing to gain; whereas, you and Marqueller Tamryndo."

Green was incensed at the insinuation. "You would take the word of a questionable servant over
mine?
A Marquelle who has stood on this very floor and successfully debated the policies of this land?"

"His testimony is disturbing... " another member concurred. "What reason would he have to lie? He has no motive."

Green observed Claudine. Even as a child, whenever she had done something underhanded, she never could hide that small smirk of hers. She was gloating. Green knew exactly why Opper had lied. Claudine had either threatened him or paid him off handsomely, or both.

The only problem was she couldn't prove it. Worse, his testimony had obviously swayed several of the members.

There was only one thing left for her to do. Moreover she had to do it now—before they ruled. She cleared her throat. "Clearly this is a case that cannot be resolved by these means. Therefore, I request that the Septibunal suspend the vote until more evidence can be found, one way or the other."

Hawke raised her eyebrow and gave Green a look that clearly asked what she was doing. They certainly could take a vote.

Claudine was outraged. She was not about to let the satisfaction of a victory slip through her fingers now that it was so close.

Which was what Green had counted on.

"Wait! Before you decide to suspend the vote, I demand satisfaction! I'm the aggrieved party here!" She waved her unsigned scroll in the air.

Anya wrinkled her nose at it.

"What satisfaction might that be?" Hawke asked wearily, knowing the answer.

"I call the Marquelle Tamryn to a Forfeiture duel at dawn to settle this matter, once and for all. It is my right!"

Jorlan's mouth parted in surprise. He had not been expecting this. Green was a stateswoman, not a warrior. He tried to catch his name-giver's eye to tell her not to agree. She would be no match for Claudine.

"I'll do it." Green responded briskly.

Claudine smiled in victory.

"But with one stipulation."

"What is it?"

"If I go to meet you in a duel, you will forever after leave Jorlan alone. If I am victorious, you will forfeit everything to me, Claudine.
Everything.
Your title, your lands, your wealth. Are you willing to risk all that, Claudine? Or shall we end this now and both go to our respective homes and forget this nonsense?"

Jorlan released the breath he had been holding. His shrewd name-giver was trying to maneuver D'anbere into dropping the matter.

Claudine's pupils contracted in evil delight. "I will never back down."

Green's face fell. She had miscalculated. Claudine's insane jealousy surpassed her desire for Jorlan.

Duchene Hawke pounded the table with her fist. "It is done then! The Septibunal agrees. They will duel at dawn to settle the matter. Victor will take all."

"No," Jorlan hissed. "No."

Arkeus began to cry, sensing his father's agitation.

When they left the chambers. Green instructed Avatar to escort Jorlan and Arkeus straight home. She needed to see her solicitor to put her affairs in order.

She refused to meet Jorlan's questioning eyes as she mounted her Kloo and left them on the street.

Tidying up her affairs took longer than one would think.

The decisions were not simple ones. Making sure loved ones were cared for were never simple decisions, She sighed with regret, but she had done the best she could. Jorlan and Arkeus would be well provided for and Tamryn House would remain their home always.

As she was leaving the "solicitor's, she was surprised when a young street spark handed her a note.

She opened it.

 

Green:

I must see you at once. I realize this is a difficult time, but I would not ask if it were not of the utmost importance.

I'll be waiting for you at the house in the Rue.

                                                             RIVER

 

Green rubbed the bridge of her nose. He would never send a note like this unless he was in trouble. In all the years they had been together, River had never once asked anything of her, always preferring instead to maintain the acceptable behavior of a pleasurer. His situation must be dire. She would have to help him if she could. She mounted Kibbee and headed off to the Rue de la Nuit.

"River, are you here?" Green let herself into the house. "Yes, in the parlor. Why don't you join us?"

Us?
Green walked into the room and froze. River had Opper cornered into a chair by the table. "What is this?"

River turned and smiled. "I heard about your troubles, Green. It seems this fellow has not only been throwing lots of touch about the Rue; he's been bragging up an arc storm. He says he has a rich benefactress who has set him up on

Pleasure Street
. I just wonder who that could be?" He shook Opper by the collar. The orange-haired former servant squeaked.

"I wonder." Green stormed over to the table. "Claudine D'anbere, by chance?"

Opper dug in and grimaced mutinously at her. "I'm not talkin'."

"You seemed more than willing to talk earlier. Well, the damage has been done. You might as well release him, River. Claudine and I are to settle our differences in another way."

"Not yet, Green. I've prepared a written confession on the viewer. At least it will clear Jorlan's name for you."

"I won't sign it!" Opper said.

Green's lips parted. "Why would you do that for Jorlan, River?"

He exhaled slowly. "I think that if a man has stayed true to a veil, he shouldn't be cheated out of his honor by the likes of him." He nodded at Opper.

Green looked at him curiously. Why would a pleasurer care about the honor of houses and veils?

"I also did it for you," he added softly.

"For me? Why?"

"Let's just say I owed you for the parting gift you gave me and call it at that."

"You didn't owe me anything for that—I wanted to do it."

"As do I. Now, Opper... " He crossed his arms over his chest and gave the orange-haired man a look that clearly stated he was not going to wait too much longer.

"I'm not signing it!"

Green rolled her eyes. "Forget it, River, he—"

River's green eyes flashed in annoyance. He bent over and murmured something low in the man's ear. Opper gulped and hastily placed the tip of his forefinger on the screen for an imprint. "I had no choice! She-Count D'anbere threatened me—said if I didn't go along it would go bad for me."

"She approached you the day of my fastening?" Green asked.

Opper nodded. "Came upstairs and realized I was the one seeing to hisself. I had no choice!"

"There is always a choice," River intoned softly. "You accepted D'anbere's coin and now you are hers. I would not want to be you."

Opper swallowed. "Can I go now?"

River gestured with his hand back and forth as if he were sweeping him out. Opper dashed for the door, slamming it behind him in his haste to leave.

"What did you say to him to make him sign the confession?"

He smiled slowly and shrugged. "That, my Marquelle, is a pleasurer's privileged information."

Green laughed as he handed her the confession. "This will mean a lot to Jorlan and his grandmother. I cannot thank you enough. River."

"Are you still meeting her at dawn?"

She did not ask how he knew. Gossip spread quickly in the Rue.

"Yes. A challenge was issued and met."

He nodded. "I wish you well, then. I hear she is very, very good."

Green looked down. "Yes."

He lifted her chin with his thumb. "Come with me to the Western Region, Green. Bring Jorlan if you wish, we could all start over."

She smiled faintly. "You know I cannot do that."

He cleared his throat. "She is a platinum class warrior, Green."

"I know."

He knew what she could not say. His hand cupped her cheek. "Be careful, will you?"

"Always."

"I'm leaving tonight."

BOOK: Rital of Proof
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