Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) (14 page)

BOOK: Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10)
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“Not really. It does seem like it is an exact copy of the system used by most of Serab,” the telepath admits as she thumbs through the thin tome again. She stops on a page and runs her finger along the words, a nervous giggle making the prisoner curious. “It would appear that King Edric enjoys seeing debates. There is mention of lawyers arguing for hours and witnesses being handled in a similar manner. That is very strange since it can cause chaos and undermine the trial. What was Edric like before he took the throne?”

“He was a teacher and scholar,” Cyrus replies from down the hall. Taking a peek outside to make sure the sheriff is still out on patrol, he jogs over to Dariana and takes a seat at the small table. “At one point, he was asked to be the History Keeper, but he declined because he preferred to bestow knowledge and wisdom on others instead of cataloging it. That’s one reason why he was pushed into taking the throne. He didn’t really want it, but the tribe needed someone wise to see us through the hardships that had befallen us since King Melich’s assassination. You have to understand that losing General Godric, Timoran, and so many other warriors in one battle was a new experience for our tribe. So there was a lot of confusion and fear during that time.”

Dariana leans back in her chair and crosses her arms, something about Cyrus’s story standing out among the other facts. “The Snow Tiger Tribe has never lost a warrior in battle? I find that hard to believe. No offense to your people, but even Cessia doesn’t bestow that much luck on a single group.”

“We have lost warriors, but never so many prominent ones in a single battle. At least not since the early days of the tribe,” Timoran answers as he leans on the cell bars. Stepping back to grip the highest point of the solid poles, he does several awkward pull-ups to burn off some of his energy. “I can see how people would be scared and confused. All of our enemies would have taken advantage of an empty throne once news spread. That is not counting former exiles who would have returned to cause trouble.”

“Was your wife one of the fatalities?” Dariana bluntly asks.

The barbarians go pale and tears fall down Timoran’s cheeks, the red-haired man dropping from the bars and letting his shoulders slouch. Ignoring the line on the floor, Cyrus goes to put a comforting hand on his friend’s fingers since he cannot fit his arm through the bars. The gesture is tossed aside as a furious rage grows in the champion’s heart. Biting his lower lip until it bleeds, Timoran holds back a roar that will draw the attention of those outside the prison. The powerful warrior trembles against the urge to unleash his full rage and tear the bars out of the floor and ceiling. Unable to stop himself, he turns and punches the opposite wall hard enough to leave a dent in the solid stone. His fingers are bruised, but nothing is broken, so he rears back to attempt another strike. The sensation of a cool hand caressing his cheek eases his anguish and stops Timoran from hurting himself. Falling to his knees, he refuses to look at his friends who are staying by the table.

“I’ll go see if that attracted Udelia,” Cyrus whispers into Dariana’s ear. He knocks on the bars and crouches to get the prisoner’s attention. “Don’t fall into despair, Wrath. She wouldn’t want you to do anything foolish. Like Tigris always said, you’re more than giant muscles and a friendly smile, so stop acting like an overgrown child.”

“I believe my wife was more eloquent than that,” Timoran replies in a gravelly voice. He watches his friend leave before returning to the bars and facing Dariana. “When I ran away from Stonehelm, I planned to come back for my wife. Then I overheard that she was lost during the battle. The stories varied as to what happened, but it was clear that she was gone. Part of me still hopes that Tigris is alive somewhere. Though it is nothing more than a foolish dream that I cannot free myself from. Does her death have anything to do with my trial?”

“More personal curiosity, but it’s possible that it will come up,” the telepath admits before going back to the law book. She takes a few sips of water and offers another glass to Timoran, who eagerly accepts the drink. “Stonehelm has no precedence for a trial like this, so we have to be ready for anything. Your memories of the battle are vague and have obvious gaps, so you’re going to have trouble when questioned. The opposition will attempt to get a confession out of you by making you think you did it. In reality, you have no recollection of actually killing General Godric and you need to make that point clear. The best we can hope for is you being found guilty of abandoning your station, which would result in a temporary exile. That actually works better for our journeys since you won’t be emotionally burdened anymore. Sorry. That was rather heartless. I know it would also mean you could not return to your homeland for a while.”

“Do you believe we can win?”

“We’re going to lose in some fashion, but I don’t believe you’re guilty of the big crime.”

“Then who killed the General?”

“I’ve no idea and, to be honest, that isn’t my concern. Getting you out of this mess is my job and I owe you too much to fail.”

The door creaks open and the champions expect to see Cyrus returning, so they are surprised to see Luke approaching with a covered platter. The half-elf has a worried expression on his face as he places the hot meal on the table. There are two plates, each one a collection of sauce-covered meats and soft bread to sop up the leaking juices. One of the dishes is put on a chair near the bars to allow Timoran to eat with the help of a long-handled fork. The barbarian proves to have no trouble using the awkward utensil, including hooking the bread and dipping it in the sauce without dropping a crumb. A mug of ale is put next to the prisoner’s meal, which causes everyone to stop and realize that this has all the makings of a last meal.

“I’ve got some bad news,” Luke says, rubbing the back of his neck. The forest tracker takes a seat and claims the smallest piece of beef from Timoran’s plate. “It seems people aren’t happy about an outsider being involved in the trial. They think it’s a trick and are wondering if King Edric is really on Timoran’s side. So the trial will be starting tonight. It will only be opening remarks and some questioning of the accused in order to set the stage.”

“I was told that I have until the morning,” Dariana argues even though she knows there is nothing she can do. Her eyebrow arches when she sees the forest tracker repeatedly glancing at the closed door. “Why are you so nervous? Is there something else we need to know? Don’t hold back information, Luke. We’re already in a bad position here.”

“The King was urged to move the trial to tonight by Sheriff Kalten,” the half-elf answers as he scratches his pointy ear and taps his foot. “She really has it in for Timoran, so I think she wants this over quickly. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one who let everyone know about your involvement, Dariana. The woman is working very hard to turn the other barbarians against us. Is there a reason she hates you so much, Timoran?”

The red-haired barbarian stuffs several forkfuls of food into his mouth and swallows after a few grinding chews. “Udelia Kalten is the daughter of General Godric and the twin sister of Tigris Godric. Her husband was killed in a Weapon Dragon hunt, but she retained his last name in his honor. She is my former sister-in-law. Before you ask, Luke, I had a wife who was killed in the same battle as General Godric. I apologize for not telling you sooner.”

“Wait!” the forest tracker sputters, grabbing the cell bars. He continues moving to keep Timoran’s attention, the nimble half-elf refusing to let the larger man look away. “You’re not only married, but you’re General Godric’s son-in-law? Not only that, but the sheriff who wants you dead is your former sister-in-law? Doesn’t all of this make the situation a lot worse than we realized? I think Nyx is lucky that her job is to drink and avoid burning the city down. Seems so much easier than what we’re stuck with.”

“All of that does explain Sheriff Kalten’s anger,” Dariana says while eating her meal. She notices that her food is predominantly vegetables, so she takes a piece of roasted chicken from Timoran. “I’m sorry, but I’m really hungry. This is not your last meal, so I recommend that you not complain. Now I assume she will be a witness, so I’ll prepare to face her. It shouldn’t be hard since she’s going to be very emotional.”

“Actually, she isn’t a witness,” Luke interjects, wringing his hands. He looks up as Cyrus enters, the barbarian dragging a set of chains and manacles behind him. “I guess they want to move you right away.”

“If she is not a witness then what is her role in the trial?” Timoran asks as he tries to eat quickly. He slows down when he sees his old friend stop to fix his perfectly tied shoelaces and adjust all of his gear. “Will she even be involved?”

“Sheriff Kalten is the person arguing to execute you.”

Dariana groans and rubs her temples as she mentally searches for the sheriff. “She’s already in the courtroom. This whole thing keeps getting messier and more complicated. Then again, life always does when family gets involved.”

*****

Every seat is filled within the courthouse of Stonehelm, which is a tall, stone building in the northeast corner of the city. The domed ceiling depicts a scene of battling snow tigers with a solitary man standing amid the beasts. Sitting on a raised dais, King Edric makes himself comfortable on a cushioned chair that has been placed in front of a red curtain. To his left is a large, topless box where witnesses stand, the space currently being taken up by Timoran. A gathering of five barbarians sit on a bench that is screwed to the wall and attached to small tables for them to put their mugs or lean on when bored. The jury keeps their eyes on Dariana and Udelia, the two women resting on wooden stools that have been placed in the open area between the King and the tightly packed audience. Everyone is whispering, which fills the single room with an incessant buzz that even the acute hearing of a barbarian cannot decipher. Dariana is the only one who can hear the threats and curses from the indoor crowd, but she also picks up on a growing mob outside that is more sympathetic to Timoran. She silently hopes that more of them can get into the building on the second day of the trial. For that matter, she prays that she can get that far since she is positive this event is more of a formality and she is only involved to make the display more believable.

“We are here to begin the trial of Timoran Wrath who has been accused of battlefield murder, treason, and abandonment of his post,” King Edric announces, his voice booming over the excited crowd. One person refuses to stop talking until a guard comes over to give the man a muttered warning. “This session is only to start the proceedings because we have already waited too long for this day. All I want tonight is for the appointed speakers to state their cases and allow some initial questioning of Timoran. There will be no calling of witnesses until our next session. Due to her being an outsider, Dariana will go first and I ask that you treat her with respect. As she pointed out to me in private, none of our people should be forced to defend a man we have grown to despise. I personally thank her for making this sacrifice. She will now stand and explain her case.”

Dariana faces the crowd and notices that only a few of them are paying attention. Glancing at the jurors, she sees that two of them are resting with their eyes closed. Unsure of what to do, the woman becomes lost and centuries of social isolation attempt to lock her nerves. She is about to speak in a cracking voice when she spots Luke sitting among the barbarians. The forest tracker is leaning forward, his eyes darting from her to Timoran. Even without her telepathy, Dariana can see the worry and frustration etched on the blonde warrior’s face. It abruptly dawns on her that she truly is the only one who can save their friend, which makes her more confident than ever. Pretending to activate a magical item, she rubs her clear ring and uses her powers to make her voice heard by everyone.

“People of Stonehelm! Edric the Snow Tiger King! Thank you for allowing me to defend my traveling companion,” Dariana says as she sorts her racing thoughts. A look of disdain and hate on Sheriff Kalten’s face makes her more determined to strike a few verbal blows for her side. “Timoran has been accused of three crimes, but we’ve been told that this trial will only focus on the murder of General Godric. So I ask that we not use the other two crimes as distractions from the greater tragedy. I only know what I’ve heard about this event, but one thing that is certain is that nobody actually saw the killing take place. It was a chaotic battlefield and Timoran just happened to be the one standing near the deceased General. Not a surprising since many died that day and armies fight as a group instead of alone. My friend was not the only one who was standing near a fallen ally when the battle ended. So this could have happened to anyone who participated in the fight, but it was this man’s bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. There is very little physical evidence against him and what I have been shown is nowhere near conclusive. Nobody saw him commit the act, the General’s blood was not on his weapon, and-”

“How do you know it wasn’t on his weapon?” Udelia asks, throwing off her courtroom rival’s momentum. The sheriff remains in her seat, but turns so that she is facing the smaller woman. “The coward disappeared before anyone could check. General Godric was felled by an axe and that is the traitor’s weapon of choice. If he was innocent then he never would have run away.”

“Timoran was scared and confused,” Dariana argues, refusing to back down even when the taller woman stands. A few people laugh due to the amusing size difference, but they are swiftly silenced by the stomp of King Edric’s booted foot. “He made a mistake by running away, but emotions were high. It is obvious that General Godric was loved by everyone and people would have wanted immediate justice. This court system did not exist at the time, so Timoran feared he would have to fight one of his fellow barbarians. He had too much honor for that and preferred to live as a hated exile.”

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