The Dog of the North (33 page)

‘Let me understand,’ said Raugier in a soft voice. ‘Viator Dince chose to extirpate a heretical worship. For this you had him whipped. Am I correct?’

Lord Thaume took a pull at his drink. ‘Viator Dince imagined himself above my authority. If his intention was to make heresy unpopular, he failed. Had I not been on hand, the mob would
have lynched him.’

‘I have much to consider,’ said Raugier. ‘Where is Lady Jilka, so pious in her bearing? And indeed, the fine young man I met in the Viatory last night?’

‘Lady Jilka is in her quarters. I did not wish to weary her with such an audience today. As to the “fine young man”—’ Lord Thaume looked around quizzically.

‘He may refer to Guigot,’ said Oricien.

‘Guigot! That was his name,’ said Raugier. ‘A virtuous and well-governed youth. There are many folk in this city who Follow the Way as the viators guide them. It is a pity that
a minority – and the culpable laxity of their ruler – allows a reputation for heresy to be fostered.’

‘I was not aware,’ said Lord Thaume, ‘that any such reputation existed. Neither Duke Panarre nor King Arren has expressed any adverse opinion.’

Raugier set his goblet down. ‘The commendation of Duke Panarre is scarcely a matter for pride: I shall be stopping at Glount on my way back to court to assess conditions for myself. As for
King Arren, regrettably his grasp on affairs is no longer what it was, and he has fallen prey to grasping favourites. Prince Jehan adopts a more militant line.’

At such time as Prince Jehan ascends the Emerald Throne, I will be the servant of his every whim.’

Raugier rose from his seat, beckoning his attendants. ‘I do not find you as humble as I had hoped, my lord. I have outlined serious reservations about your management of spiritual affairs,
but you have chosen to meet them with glib evasion and outright defiance. We shall be inspecting affairs in the city. Next time we speak, I hope to find you of more compliant disposition.’ He
bowed to a fractional extent.

‘You will find, as ever, my lord, that I seek to do what is right for His Puissance King Arren and the people of Croad. That is my own Way of Harmony. If you wish to confer with Viator
Sleech as to my Equilibrium, you may of course do so.’

Raugier was already stalking from the hall and Thaume’s final remarks were addressed to his back.

1

On the second day of proceedings the small courtroom felt inadequate to the weight of business. The tension of the previous day’s scenes still crowded the space.
Today Isola was not on hand; Sir Goccio, however, remained in court, his presence a reminder of his faltering testimony. Once the court was convened, Davanzato rose slowly to his feet.

‘Your Puissance; my lords. We all well remember yesterday’s great drama in our courtroom. I acknowledge my own sorry contribution; like us all, I was beguiled by Lady Isola’s
melancholy beauty, and I did not examine her story as I should have done. Do not let this negligence, my lords, soften your hearts towards the rogue and traitor Beauceron. His guilt has been
attested by many; men of honour, all. Let me set out once again the scope of his guilt.

‘Beauceron came into this city many years ago, a man friendless and banished from his homeland. Every man’s hand was turned against him. All he had to commend him was the power of
his strong right arm. What did the world hold for such a man? Nothing, except what he could extort from it.

‘He fought for our brave field captains who have so long tyrannized the northern plains of the Emmenrule, and earned a reputation for terror and brutality. There was no deed at which he
would scruple. In due course his company came to Mettingloom, and by now his deeds had elevated him to its captain, and he had acquired a sinister sobriquet: the Dog of the North.

‘In his ambition he realized that he had reached the apex of the raider’s career. There was nothing more for him to achieve. For a man who, as we all know, nurtured a hatred of the
city of Croad in his heart, the situation was intolerable. He came to the city in winter, and before him he saw the mighty King Fanrolio. To Fanrolio he pledged good and true service. He became a
man of the Snowdrop, and from that day on fought under Fanrolio’s banner, even in the summer campaigns. Fanrolio had the right to expect the utter loyalty of the man who fought under his
banner.

‘As we have seen, Beauceron’s loyalty is to no one but himself. When he raided and campaigned, he hoisted aloft his own red standard. Fanrolio had rescued him from the life of a
rootless raider, but how did Beauceron repay him? He desired the King to provide him with a mighty army to bring Croad to its knees. The King’s respect for the great warrior was so high that
he allowed the matter to be debated in his council, despite the much-cherished peace that Mettingloom and the Emmenrule enjoy. The King ruled that no such invasion could take place.

‘Did Beauceron accept the word of his sovereign lord with the meek resignation he owed his King? He did not. He continued to campaign, importuning the King’s Under-Chamberlain,
myself, for further audiences. I made it clear that no such audience could be expected, and that the subject had been settled last year.’

Beauceron caught his breath as it hissed out. Mongrissore shot him an admonitory glance.

‘All those who knew Beauceron’s proud temperament knew also that he could accept no check or rebuke. It came then, as no surprise, to find that he had approached the noble Sunflower
Knight, Sir Goccio, with a proposal to change his allegiance to the Summer Court, in exchange for the chance to lead an army against Croad. Who was this baseborn man, an exile like so many who find
their way to Mettingloom, to think to treat and dicker among kings, to barter his allegiance like a fishmonger haggling over his wares? Such thoughts of due place never occurred to Beauceron, a man
who carried himself as a prince in defiance of his birth.’

From the gallery came a few mutterings, outweighed by many nods of approval.

‘Instead Beauceron persuaded Sir Goccio, a brave knight but no statesman, that his honour was best served by indulging in a treasonous scheme and one, we can but suspect, the Summer King
himself would have opposed once he knew of it. Fortunately, this false treachery came to light at an early stage. The invasion had been planned, but Sir Goccio repented of his treachery and drew
the facts to the attention of those who would act upon them.

‘I have set out, in summary form, the crimes of the treasonous Beauceron. I call for the ultimate penalty: execution as a common criminal, the noose and not the block. Attainder of all his
goods must also follow, in the customary allocation: three parts to the King, and one to the person who brings him to justice: namely myself. Your Puissance, my lords, I await only your
pleasure.’

Fanrolio nodded and blinked slowly. ‘Davanzato, we all know how much I regret the continuing indisposition of my Chamberlain, but in your calm eloquence today I see much of Osvergario.
Legulier Mongrissore, do you wish to add any final remarks?’

Mongrissore raised himself slowly, as if his joints pained him, his eyes raised to the painted ceiling. ‘I am grateful, Your Puissance. There is one important question I would wish to
resolve first. Davanzato has pressed for Beauceron’s execution as a common criminal; as your sworn man, he is entitled, if convicted, to the block.’

Davanzato leaped from his seat. ‘At your advanced age, Legulier, I am sure it can be difficult to retain all the details of the case. The court will remember that I specifically
petitioned, at the outset, to try the case under the Old Law, rather than the Code of Justice introduced by King Metrio. This permission was graciously granted.’

He sat back in his seat with a smirk.

‘My apologies, sir,’ said Mongrissore with a gentle nod of his head. ‘The case has been somewhat protracted – partly through your oratory – and the occasional
detail may, indeed, not be at the forefront of my mind. I now fully understand: the case is being heard under the Old Law. It is fortunate that my client’s innocence will render the question
moot.’

Davanzato simply smiled and looked down at his papers. Beauceron shot Mongrissore a quizzical glance. He was not as old as all that, and his wits had shown no tendency to addle thus far.

Mongrissore continued. ‘With that procedural question settled, I have nothing further to say other than to assert my client’s innocence. Davanzato’s travesty of a summation of
Beauceron’s career deserves rebuttal, however. It is indeed some time since he journeyed north to join us in Mettingloom, a journey that many have made before him. Few, however, have
contributed as strongly as Beauceron to the glory of his King. He has struck terror into Emmen as the Dog of the North, and served with exemplary loyalty.

‘Such success, and the riches thus accrued, naturally provoke envy in the hearts of lesser men, and here I must include Under-Chamberlain Davanzato, a notoriously avaricious man. Long has
the court turned a blind eye to the increasingly elaborate and expensive presents demanded by this over-mighty servant. Avarice grows by what it feeds on: whatever it has, it must have more. So it
has been with Davanzato. He has blocked again and again Beauceron’s great scheme – one which would, incidentally, bring glory to the Northern Reach – solely to frustrate
Beauceron. His hope, of course, was to drive Beauceron into treasonous discourse with the Summer Court. In this he reckoned without the captain’s loyalty to his sworn word. His attempt to
secure one-quarter of Beauceron’s wealth by prosecuting a successful case must surely have fallen, had he not chosen to fabricate Beauceron’s involvement.

‘Consequently he suborned Sir Goccio, and here I second Davanzato’s opinion of that knight as a soldier rather than a statesman. His debts are well known, and Davanzato was swiftly
able to reach agreement with Sir Goccio. It was Sir Goccio, of course, who approached Beauceron, and not the reverse. Beauceron naturally rejected the overtures, so the foolish Sir Goccio was
forced to perjure himself. This was not enough for Davanzato: a non-existent crime can be difficult to prove. So he also used his malign influence over Lady Isola to secure her warped testimony.
Poor Lady Isola, naturally resentful against the man who had kidnapped her, and desperate to secure the funds to return to her home, was all too easily manipulated by a man as ruthless as
Davanzato. I may only yesterday have turned the heat of my questioning against Lady Isola, but I do not blame her. She made an error – and which of us has not? – and then repented of
it. No, I do not blame her: I salute her!

‘It gives me no pleasure to expose Under-Chamberlain Davanzato as a scoundrel and a rogue: no doubt a degree of moral flexibility is essential for a man in his position. Nonetheless,
Davanzato has committed a great fraud, not only against Beauceron but also, Your Puissance, against you and the Lords of Equity. What action to take against such a man is not for me to decide; my
interest in this whole sorry matter ends when, tomorrow, you discharge Beauceron as an innocent man.’

He sat down almost apologetically. There was silence, broken only by the slow, mocking applause of Davanzato. ‘Bravo, old man! The mummers lost a recruit when you chose the law.’

Beauceron looked at Mongrissore in admiration. The legulier had entwined the truth of Davanzato’s avarice and ambition with a favourable portrait of the Dog of the North so compelling that
Beauceron almost believed himself to be innocent.

2

That evening, Beauceron shared a joint of salt ham in his cell with Mongrissore and Monetto.

‘I am filled with admiration for your performance this afternoon,’ said Beauceron to Mongrissore. ‘I am only sorry that Monetto could not have been there to hear it.’

Monetto paused in his assault on the ham. ‘No doubt the scribes will soon release the speech for all to enjoy. Davanzato can only have harmed himself.’

Mongrissore shook his head. ‘It is all for naught. Beauceron, you must prepare yourself for a guilty verdict tomorrow.’

‘What?’ said Monetto. ‘I thought all were agreed that Mongrissore had trounced Davanzato.’

Mongrissore gave a sad smile. ‘So I did, good Monetto. But I needed not only to destroy his case, but the man himself. Davanzato stuck to his points, and for good reason: he knows the
Lords of Equity favour him. The Winter Court wants to punish Beauceron for intriguing against their King; the Summer Court hates and fears him. They will counsel the King to convict.’

Monetto scowled. ‘And does the King not have a mind of his own?’

The silence which followed this question indicated that all three realized the fatuity of the remark.

Beauceron rose and shook hands with Mongrissore and Monetto. ‘I thank you, Mongrissore, for your spirited defence and for your honesty. I will regret going to my death with Croad
unavenged, but I can blame no one but myself.’

‘Do not speak of your death,’ said Monetto. ‘You have survived conviction for great crimes before.’

Beauceron gave a crooked smile. ‘It is many years since we have spoken of Lord Thaume,’ he said. ‘I was unjustly condemned on that occasion too.’

‘Justice may vary depending on where you stand. Just or not, here you stand today. If there is a lesson from those days so long ago, it is that while there is life there is
hope.’

‘You will be calling for the viators next,’ said Beauceron. ‘They will tell me that the Way of Harmony is almost at its end. Lord Thaume died without acknowledging the wrong he
had done me. I would not have Oricien and Siedra escape so lightly.’

Mongrissore made a gesture to attract their attention. ‘You are not dead yet, Beauceron. The law has many twists and turns. Have you been exercising as I suggested?’

‘Of course,’ said Beauceron. ‘If your expedient is for me to outrun my guards, it can best be characterized as desperate.’

‘Tomorrow will bring what it brings.’

3

Unlike the trial, the verdict was to be delivered in front of the whole court. The Lords of Equity had rendered their advice to the King the previous night, and all that
remained now was for Fanrolio to pronounce Beauceron guilty or innocent, and to impose whatever penalty he deemed appropriate.