Exile's Honor

But the poor man didn't always win. Not when the poor man was in the wrong.

There was a case of a shabby, shifty-eyed fellow claiming that a merchant's horse had trampled him and broken his leg, and the merchant's coachman had agreed that, yes, that was what had happened—when the shifty fellow had thrown himself deliberately under the horse's hooves.

That was when Mirilin glanced over at the Princess. 'Truth Spell, please, Selenay,' he murmured.

:Watch this, Chosen,: Kantor said instantly. :This is important.:

Selenay nodded and closed her eyes, a tiny frown of concentration on her face. And slowly, a faint blue glow began to gather over the heads of both parties, growing stronger and stronger, until it stood out clearly even in the well-lit courtroom. Alberich kept his face expressionless, but he felt the hair standing up on the back of his neck. When anyone in Karse used magic—well, the only people who did were Sunpriests, and the very few times they ever did so outside of the inner sanctum of a temple, someone usually died....

'Now,' said Mirilin to the coachman. 'Tell me again what happened, precisely.'

The coachman, an earnest old gentleman who kept his gaze fastened on Mirilin the entire time, repeated his story, virtually word-for-word, while the light about him glowed steadily. He didn't even seem aware of it, although those in the courtroom who were paying attention to this case murmured with satisfaction.

'And now, sir, would you tell me what happened again?' Mirilin continued, with a courteous nod to the shabby fellow.

'Nah, lookit me leg!' the fellow bleated indignantly, gesturing at the limb in question, which was splinted and bound with clean rags—the only things that were clean about him. 'Any'un with 'af an eye kin tell what's what!'

'Nevertheless, please tell me again,' Mirilin replied, with far more patience than Alberich would have shown. The man began his tale with ill grace, but the moment he got to '—an' I stepped inter the street, an' this bastid comes whippin' up 'is 'orses—'

The light went out.

Although the man clearly was unaware that anything had happened at all, the onlookers saw what Alberich had. A gasp—not of surprise, but of satisfaction—went up, and Mirilin cut the rest of the man's speech off with a wave of his hand.

'Sir, you are lying, and this man is telling the truth. He owes you nothing.' Mirilin glanced meaningfully at the constables that waited just beyond the barrier. 'Now, the penalties for perjury are substantial in a regular court, but since this is a Heraldic hearing, and I have discretion, I shall allow you to leave in peace—providing you do leave quietly. I suggest that you find a more honest means of employing yourself from here on, because you are now in the official records as a perjurer, and the next court you bring yourself before will take that into account.'

The man followed Mirilin's glance and set his jaw angrily, but didn't even try to dispute the judgment. Instead, he shuffled off, quickly getting himself out of the door (or at least, as quickly as a splinted and wrapped leg would allow) while the coachman thanked Mirilin effusively.

But Mirilin waved him off with a slight sign of irritation. 'Do not thank me for simple justice,' he said. 'Now, please, we have a heavy docket to see—'

The coachman took the hint and followed in the path of his accuser.

:That was the Truth Spell, Chosen,: Kantor said with satisfaction, :And it is nearly the only sort of magic that you will ever see a Herald using. There's mind- magic, of course, which is things like Mindspeech, Foreseeing and FarSeeing, but unless you are the Herald doing the mind-magic, well, you aren't going to actually see anything. Mirilin is better at the Truth Spell than Selenay, but he wants her to have the practice in setting it, because when she needs to use it, she'll be doing so with many more eyes on her,:

:Is that all it does?: he asked, :just show which person is telling the truth?:

:There is a more powerful version that can compel the truth, but it's not likely to be used here,: Kantor replied, as an old woman with a cat came hobbling up to the table. :That's saved for things that are a great deal more serious, and not all Heralds can invoke it. You have to have a very strong Gift, and it usually has to be one like Mindspeech.:

:Will I—: he began, and stopped.

:You will. You'll probably be very good at it.: But Kantor was evidently sensitive to feelings as well as actual thoughts, for he quickly added, :But given that you're going to be the Weaponsmaster, I doubt you'll be called upon to do it much. If at all.: