'You call it bad?' said Sarazin. 'I call it ludicrous. A charge of high treason? How can that be justified.' 'In several ways,' said Imbleprig.
'How so?' said Sarazin. 'I put down a revolution. I saved Shin from being burnt to the ground by a mob of peasants. I preserved the life of the lady Amantha. Then married her, that the rule of law might be restored to the kingdom.'
You set yourself up as king,' said Imbleprig. 'That was unlawful, not least because Tarkal still lived.'
'How was I to know he lived?' said Sarazin. 'I didn't think him such a coward as to run so quick.'
Whether his action was cowardice or caution is not for us to say,' said Imbleprig. 'He was King Lyra's oldest child. Furthermore, he was the man Selzirk wanted to see succeed King Lyra. Clearly, by making yourself king, or trying to, you opposed the wishes of Selzirk. That is high treason.'
'What I have done I have done in Chenameg, which exists outside the jurisdiction of the Harvest Plains,' said Sarazin. Thus I cannot be called to account for my actions in any court of Selzirk.'
You are wrong,' said Imbleprig, 'for the Harvest Plains have long claimed jurisdiction over Chenameg. While Selzirk finds it expedient to rule through Chena- meg's royal family, our law holds Chenameg to be as much a part of our own nation as Kelebes or Androl- marphos.' 'This is news to me,' said Sarazin.
'No!' said Imbleprig. 'It is not news to you at all, that is the worst part of it. The Rovac warrior Thodric Jarl was at pains to tell you as much in front of witnesses. Or so he says. Do you say otherwise?' 'I… well…'
'It matters not what you say, anyway,' said Imbleprig, 'for many will witness against you.' 'Who?' said Sarazin. 'Name them!' Thodric Jarl himself, for one. Some men of the Watch whom he commanded in Shin. There is also a dwarf, Glambrax. And there are others.'
There were indeed others, and Sarazin heard them all at length during his trial, which lasted for months. It took place in front of Judge Qolidian and seven professional jurors. It went on for so long that Sarazin could scarcely remember any other way of life. It seemed he had spent a lifetime standing in the dock listening to self-justifying witnesses and prating lawyers.
Sarazin's dark despair was only increased by the behaviour of the jurors who paid not the slightest attention to the proceedings. They appeared to think the outcome of the trial a foregone conclusion, for they spent their days gambling with dice, cards and knucklebones.
Meanwhile, lawyers enriched themselves by arguing the finer points of the Constitution interminably.
Was Chenameg part of the Harvest Plains? If it was, then Sarazin, by seizing power in Shin, had committed an act of High Treason. If it was not, then, since Sarazin's actions had taken place beyond Selzirk's jurisdiction, he should rightly walk free. Farfalla herself was one of those who gave evidence.
Yes,' she said, in answer to a question from the prose- cution, 'Chenameg has always acknowledged the authority of the See of the Sun.'
And she looked on Sarazin coldly, as if he were a stranger. That night, alone in his cell, Sarazin wept. In his dreams he crawled back to the womb and found it cold, stony, haunted by bats and studded with iron.
As the days went by he had other occasions for weep- ing, for it became clearer and clearer that he was guilty and doomed to death. He no longer doubted that Chena- meg was indeed a part of the Harvest Plains. The Consti- tution held that Selzirk's law ruled all the territory of the ancient empire once commanded by the evil wizard Ebonair. Historians proved to the court that Chenameg had indeed been a part of that empire.
Sean Sarazin, as a son of the kingmaker, was forbidden by the Constitution to hold power in the Harvest Plains. Yet he had tried to seize power in Chenameg. Therefore, since Chenameg was part of the Harvest Plains, he was guilty of high treason.
Late in the spring, evidence and argument were at last concluded, and the jury withdrew to consider its verdict. Sarazin, thinking the jurors an idle pack of derelict fools, expected a prompt decision. However, he had badly midjudged these upright citizens.
This jury was not a random-picked panel of seven plucked from the streets. No, these jurors were profes- sionals, and highly conscious of their responsibilities, for in Selzirk juries were only used in the judgment of the most heinous of crimes.
Here, with so much complex data to consider, the jury had a real job on its hands. Day after day the jurymen deliberated, often sending out for a little something to keep themselves going. Roast dinners, for instance, and skins of wine. Sometimes, to prop up their ebbing morale, they collaborated in a jolly song. The stress they laboured under was evidenced by the sounds of drunken singing which often wafted from the jury room long after midnight.
At last, after the jury had been out for twenty days, the foreman appeared in court. The shadows beneath his eyes testified to the strain under which he had been working, as did his unsteady gait and the tremor in his hands. What have you decided?' said Judge Qolidian.
'Guilty,' said the foreman. 'Guilty. He's a nasty piece of work and as guilty as hell. Throw the book at him.'
Then the foreman burped, swayed on his feet, and collapsed insensible in full view of the court, thus exciting considerable sympathy from all members of the legal profession who were present and who alone were properly qualified to sympathise with the hardships of such pro- fessional jurors.
Once the foreman had recovered, Judge Qolidian thanked the jury for their sterling efforts, and expressed a touching concern for the obviously heavy toll which this trial had taken upon even such hardened professionals. Then Qolidian turned his attention to Sean Sarazin.
'Sean Kelebes Sarazin,' said Judge Qolidian. The jury has found you guilty of high treason. Have you anything to say before I pass sentence?' 'My client has nothing to say,' said Imbleprig. 'But-' said Sarazin.
Then said no more, for he was suppressed. Judge Qolidian smiled grimly as the suppression proceeded. Then, seeing things were getting out of hand, he said:
'All right, all right, that's enough! You can take your boot off his throat.'
Sarazin, somewhat the worse for wear, was restored to his proper place in the dock. Then Judge Qolidian smiled again. Then laughed with manic glee. Then coughed, and brought himself under control. Then said:
'Sean Kelebes Sarazin, I sentence you to be taken to a place of imprisonment and there to be held until Mid- summer's Day.'
Sarazin looked up, startled. Was that all? Imprisonment till Midsummer's Day? That was nothing! However, the judge was not finished yet…
'On Midsummer's Day you are to be taken to the westernmost part of Unkrana. There you are to be hung from the neck until near dead. Then you are to be dragged through the streets to Libernek Square, there to have your intestines torn from your body, after which your body itself is to be cleaved into quarters.' Sarazin smiled, faintly. He did not believe it.
He did not believe it until the following night, when he woke from nightmare. Screaming.
Long he lay in the darkness, sweating, shivering, near dead from dread. Then, towards dawn, he remembered. Of course! The kingmaker could exercise the prerogative of mercy. That, like the power to appoint city and regional governors, was one of the kingmaker's inalienable powers.
'My mother will save me,' said Sarazin. 'She will. She must!
Seeking Farfalla's mercy, Sarazin drafted an appeal himself at dawn and had it sent to her. After thirty days a reply came from Farfalla's personal secretary:
The kingmaker Farfalla, mother of all the peoples, ruler of the See of the Sun, instructs me to advise you that your petition for clemency has been rejected.'
And Sarazin reacted first with anger, then hate, then grief.
The days dragged by until, in due course, Sarazin learnt that the judge who had sentenced him had been appointed governor of Androlmarphos. Judge Qolidian had con- demned Sarazin to suffer a dreadful death. And Farfalla had shown her gratitude by making him a king.
Sarazin screamed in rage, screamed and screamed and battered the door of his cell with his fists. Which did him no good, of course. Shortly his lawyer, Childermas Imbleprig, came to say they would be appealing against his sentence. But Sarazin, no longer believing anything could help him, lapsed into a deep depression.
Even when he was brought into court on the occasion of his appeal – which was heard before the eminent Judge Syrphus – he was still too depressed to take much cognisance of the proceedings. After outlining the course of Sarazin's trial and detailing the sentence, Childermass Imbleprig (having thus earnt sufficient sanarands to temporarily quell his loquacity) finally got to the meat of the matter.
