Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) (22 page)

The barbarian takes the message and tussles the half-elf’s hair. “You can trust me, Near God. I would never let Timoran or any of his friends down. After all, he’s my battle brother and that makes you part of my family too.”

Cyrus runs for the doorway and can be heard bounding down the steps, the large man’s footsteps echoing up the stairwell. Nyx goes to the railing to watch the street and sees that the crowd has grown even bigger than when last she looked. Even from so far away, she can feel the thick tension in the air, which makes her feel like they are nearing the end of the trial. With all of the fresh knowledge rattling in her mind, Nyx knows it is only a matter of time before the entire landscape of Stonehelm is thrown into chaos.

*****

Dariana remains in her seat while Udelia and the rest of the audience jump to their feet to applaud the reenactment. The telepath wonders if the barbarians know such a thing is not the same as theater, but she is starting to believe that the entire trial can be seen as a show. She no longer feels hampered by the binding of her powers since many of the witnesses have been easily undone with a few simple questions. Most of them claim to have seen Timoran and General Godric fighting near each other, but nobody has confidently admitted to seeing them battle each other much less the deathblow. All witnesses who make the attempt have been unable to keep their facts straight and routinely mix up injuries. So far, her personal favorite is the swordsman who swore Timoran beheaded the General, which Udelia ended up angrily denying before Dariana could speak. The only witness that has made a clear and powerful statement has been King Edric, who went after the others and handled every question without a hint of confusion. Of course, Udelia only asked him to tell everyone what he saw before giving the floor, and no useful information, to Dariana.

The longer this trial goes on, the more the telepath notices the toll that it is taking on her exhausted opponent. Bags are under the sheriff’s eyes from barely sleeping and, the champion assumes, a few bouts of crying. Udelia’s hair is knotted and her clothes are the same ones she wore yesterday, though they seem to have been casually washed. It is as if there is nothing else that matters to the determined woman besides winning this trial even though the verdict was probably decided years ago. Fiddling with the opal on her enchanted collar, Dariana wonders how many bitter memories are swirling in her opponent’s mind. While the people of Stonehelm want to avenge a beloved leader, Udelia is reliving the sense of loss caused by the death of her father and sister. Several times, the telepath has caught the sheriff glaring at Timoran, who has been quietly staring at his knees throughout the entire trial. It is surprising that the woman has not attempted to attack her former brother-in-law whenever the details of his supposed crimes have been discussed.

“I wonder if this entire thing was for your benefit,” Dariana mutters while the actors gather their props. Turning to the jury, she can see that they are still paying little attention to the on-goings. “There’s no way to win this. If Timoran is found guilty then we lose a valued friend and the gods lose a champion. There has to be something I can do to get him out of here even if it doesn’t clear his name.”

“That sounds illegal,” Udelia says as she approaches the shorter woman. The sheriff leans against the small barrier that separates them from the crowd. “You keep treating this trial like it’s fake and the verdict was predetermined, which is not entirely true. There was always a chance that you could win. Yes, I believe Timoran is guilty like many in the tribe. Still, there is nobody who claims to have seen the actual crime. The closest we have to a pure witness is Edric and he only saw the aftermath.”

“You know all this and you continue pushing for his execution?” Dariana asks, keeping her voice calm and low. Two young guards arrive to clean the mess, the reenactors having gone too far with the fake blood. “I don’t understand what is going on here. You obviously hate Timoran and blame him for the death of your father. Maybe even the death of your sister. Yet you obviously know this whole thing is one-sided. How can you be happy with the way things are progressing?”

“Nobody said I was happy about this, but I’ll take whatever comfort I can get,” the sheriff explains with a half-hearted chuckle. Crossing her arms, she crouches next to the champion and balances on her toes. “I do think Timoran is guilty, but more of running away than murdering my father. Do I think the latter is possible? Of course because tragedies like that happen when one of my people recklessly unleashes their rage. My heart tells me to hate him and believe he’s a murderer, but my brain remembers that the evidence isn’t clear. Edric taught all of us how to think beyond our emotions, which is what I’m trying very hard to do. I wasn’t his best student, so I still want blood. In my opinion, Timoran could have stayed, defended himself, and honored the bond he had with my family. Instead, he ran away to leave me to grieve alone and wonder if he truly betrayed me.”

“Do you wish for him to die for that?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“But the penalty is death.”

“I will petition to have it be an exile if you and your friends speak about his more recent deeds.”

Dariana stares at Udelia, the telepath surprised by the barbarian’s words. She searches for signs of deception only to find it is difficult without her powers. Not wanting anyone to think she still has her telepathy, she averts her eyes and pulls at the enchanted collar. The sheriff’s voice and body language appear to be genuine, but her aggressiveness up until now makes Dariana think she is being tricked. With her guard down, it would be easy for her to miss any evidence that appears in the final hours of the trial.

“Thank you, but I’m still trying to win,” the champion whispers, patting Udelia on the shoulder. “Be happy that you’re fighting for your family’s honor. Please know that if you win, I’ll hold you to your promise.”

The sheriff looks stunned for a few seconds before sighing and going back to her stool. Two people in the crowd reach out to stop Udelia and congratulate her on winning even though the trial is not over. They back away from the barrier when she growls at them and roughly frees her arm from their hands. The sheriff sits and patiently waits for the trial to resume, her attention back on Timoran.

Something hits the back of Dariana’s head and she turns to see Cyrus trying to force his way through the front line of the crowd. He subtly points at the floor and mouths Nyx’s name before he is shoved back and blocked from view. Glancing at her feet, Dariana sees a crumpled piece of parchment with a few visible ink markings. She carefully opens the message while King Edric makes himself comfortable and takes a drink of water from an iron mug. With time running out, the telepath reads quickly and a broad smile crosses her face. Tearing off a separate note on the top of the page, she tucks the message into her pocket and slips the other part into her shoe while the crowd quiets down.

“Unless there is something else that must be brought to our attention, this trial is-” King Edric begins once everyone is looking at him. He pauses when Dariana stands and clears his throat, the silver-haired woman putting her hands behind her back. “Do you have something important to say, defense? I will remind you that we have gone through all of the witnesses and seen the reenactment. There should not be anything else.”

“Some new information has been revealed, so I would like to recall one witness for extra questioning,” Dariana politely requests while walking toward the ruler. She stops within reach of the muscular barbarian, but lets her arms dangle at her sides. “I promise that this has bearing on the case. It should bring some things to light and make the verdict very definitive when you hand it down. May I recall this witness?” She waits for the judge to gesture for her to continue and takes a deep breath. “I ask that King Edric retake the stand!”

The furious barbarians shout and curse for several minutes while their leader remains in his seat. Dariana refuses to move even when boots and other random objects fly out of the crowd, several projectiles harmlessly striking her in the back. Aside from Edric, Udelia and Timoran are the only quiet citizens in the courthouse, the pair taking a moment to stare at each other for the first time in days. Neither of them know what is going on, so they can only shrug and watch what happens. Dariana never looks away from the calm ruler as he strokes his beard and lets his people release their frustrations. Holding up his hand for silence, Edric undoes his cape and moves to the witness box.

“Thank you. Every Snow Tiger King travels to Aintaranurh to claim a piece of jade for their crown, right?” Dariana asks, noticing the man tensing at the question. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Udelia stand and prepare to step in. “This is only me clarifying some information. I assume King Edric did this soon after the battle. With General Godric dead, the throne was open and it would be claimed by whoever went to Aintaranurh first. By the way, did you know there’s a scroll in the library that lists the names of everyone who goes there?”

“What you say is true,” Edric proudly answers, his muscles relaxing slightly. With a small wave, he has the sheriff sit back down and leans forward while interlacing his fingers. “This is a simple question and I have someone to support me. I went to Aintaranurh along with Sheriff Kalten. She saw me go into the Hollowed Hill and come out with the jade crown. We went a week after King Melich and General Godric were buried. I was also aware of the scroll that reveals the names of all who enter Aintaranurh. Though I have never read it because the same information can be found in various books.”

The telepath grins and pulls Nyx’s message out of her pocket, slowly unfolding it to make the witness’s anxiety grow. “Not exactly. The books only discuss those who are known to have gone into the hill in search of a crown. As I said, the ancient scroll lists everyone who goes to Aintaranurh. This is done by magic, which means there is no outside interference. More importantly, this document includes anyone of the tribe who comes within a certain distance of the doorway. This is regardless of their intention, so the scroll noted that Sheriff Kalten traveled with you. I assume she waited outside.”

“She will not deny this.”

“Of course she won’t because there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Then what are these questions about?”

Dariana shakes the parchment and walks to Udelia, letting her opponent read the simple message. The barbarian’s eyes go wide and her hands shake as she gives the paper back to the silver-haired woman. A loud murmur runs through the crowd and the jurors anxiously shift in their chairs at the sight of the sheriff sitting in stunned silence. Dariana puts a comforting hand on her opponent’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze that makes her knuckles ache.

“The scroll mentioned that you went to Aintaranurh twice after the battle,” the champion declares, handing the message to the jurors. They pass the evidence around, each one looking at the King as they finish reading. “The second time was with Sheriff Kalten and that’s when you returned with the crown. So, what was the first time? Did you attempt to enter and then turn back for some reason? That’s not hard to believe since you lost many friends in the battle and would have wanted to accept the challenge with a clearer mind. After all, Aintaranurh must be dangerous in order to choose a new leader for the tribe.”

“That it is,” King Edric replies as he adjusts his crown. Seeing everyone look at the circlet, his face goes red with anger. “I wanted to create peace and order in the wake of a tragedy. When I went to Aintaranurh alone, I was angry and hurt. Those emotions would have gotten me killed, so I turned back to wait for my rage and grief to subside. Sheriff Kalten came with me to offer support and act as a witness. It appears that this line of questioning has nothing to do with the case at hand. Justify this or I will end the trial.”

“This is all about honesty and your character, which is the basis for a witness’s influence over a jury,” Dariana answers, nervously rubbing the opal at her neck. Reading the message again, she pushes away the thought that this would be easier with her powers. “Every Snow Tiger King and Queen who has earned the throne has had a unique crown. There has never been a repeated design according to a book that I’m sure you’ve read. After all, you had to include your own crown and signature in there. Now each ruler and their personalized crown is buried near Aintaranurh. So why is your circlet identical to the one worn by King Melich?”

Edric roars as he stands and kicks the front of the witness stand to pieces, the crowd erupting in a mess of noise. “Arrest this woman and lock her up with the traitor! Do it or I will end this in an uncivilized manner! Nobody, especially an outsider, accuses the Snow Tiger King of grave robbing and lying about his station. You and the traitor will await my decision in regards to your fate. Take them away, Sheriff Kalten! Now!”

Udelia calls for her guards to escort Timoran through the side door, the hurried warriors forgetting to replace his manacles. Sneaking out of the nearest exit, the jurors make a quick escape before anybody decides to drag them into the riot. The enraged crowd is hurling furniture and fighting amongst themselves, several of those in the front leaping the barrier to charge Dariana. Wielding a chair leg like a small club, Sheriff Kalten fends off the attacking citizens and roughly grabs the telepath by the shirt collar. Tucking the woman under her arm, Udelia bolts for the door and barrels through the waiting mob that her men are already struggling to contain.

“Did you plan on plunging Stonehelm into anarchy?” the towering woman asks as they clear the crowd. “I don’t know if I should hate or respect you.”