Return to Kinthaldith

A novel by Meredith Skye

* ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *

After a restless night, Jesh woke early. The small stone cell had a bed, though not very comfortable. He was grateful when the guards came later and took him to a place where he could bathe and clean up. At least he felt presentable.

After a small breakfast, two soldiers came and escorted Jesh upstairs to the great hall. The polished wooden floor reflected the light that flowed in from the large windows that lined both sides of the church-like hall—a line of pillars held up the arched cathedral-like ceiling overhead. Frescos decorated the walls, punctuated with silver wall sconces. The hall could seat over a hundred people at a feast, though not nearly that many were sitting there this morning. Maybe fifty members of the House had assembled.

As usual, Lady Tireth's expression was unreadable. Her cousin Lord Eshlartarral sat beside her, as did Marrannessar. Lord Risser'toranth sat next to them, and it chilled Jesh to look in his eyes.

Others were present. Jesh recognized many of them. Their expressions were stern; no one smiled at him. Suddenly, Jesh felt embarrassed, being brought before them now--in disgrace and dressed as thrall. He looked around the room for his bag but couldn't see it. Hadn't she sent someone to find it? His heart sank.

Lady Tireth spoke without standing. "All present have heard the words spoken at the Lawbody. We give you one last chance to speak."

Then they haven't decided. Jesh's heart beat faster. He stepped forward, trying to look sure of himself. "I swear to you, on my honor, that I did not kill Lord Demminsantlan." The group stirred.

"You have no honor," said Lord Risser. Jesh paused, knowing that any argument based on his honor right now was weak, but Lady Tireth motioned him to continue.

"The trial on Prent was unjust. My lawyer gave a false account. The translator changed my words. The Prenth didn't care about justice; they wanted to stir up their people to hate the Lords of Kinthaldith rather than admit that one of their own people killed Lord Demminsantlan."

No one moved. Surely, they would recognize the truth. Then Lord Risser broke the silence. "Lies!"

"It's the truth," said Jesh.

"Where is your evidence, traitor?" said Lord Risser.

Jesh resisted mentioning the bag. He didn't want to insult Lady Tireth further. Now, he wondered if the young Lord had aided in its disappearance.

Lady Tireth glanced over at Risser, then over at Jesh. "The bag you brought has mysteriously disappeared. I'm afraid my inquiries about it have failed," said Lady Tireth.

Without the evidence, how could Jesh convince them? Would they believe him?

Now Lord Risser stood and approached Jesh. His eyes were cold. "The Prenth found you guilty; the Lawbody found you guilty. I find you guilty." He said it like a final pronouncement. Was that it? Was that all the defense he'd be allowed? Jesh felt a panic. He had thought Lady Tirethdarra was in control. Would they abide by Lord Risser's decision or by hers?

"Of murder?" asked Lady Tireth. Jesh looked at her, regaining some hope.

"There are other issues," said Risser.

"Such as?" asked Lady Tireth.

Lord Risser turned back to Jesh with a piercing gaze. "Betrayal. Desertion. Breaking his oath. You stayed on Prent after the act and accepted their citizenship, as well as their applause. You became one of them."

"If you were innocent, Jesh," asked Lady Tireth. "Why did you stay?"

Jesh took a deep breath, knowing his life hinged on what he might say. "I made a promise to Lord Demminsantlan before he died. He foresaw that the Prenth might try to take control of Kinthaldith. He asked me to stop them."