unlike the people who get killed in battles, every single one of them had earned conviction and execution. But I’m the one who pronounced their sentences. I may not have swung the ax, but I certainly wielded the sword.
Her own thoughts before her arrival in Zebediah came back to her, and the knowledge that she’d been right then was cold comfort now.
But at least I don’t have to send them all to death, she reminded herself, squaring her shoulders as the quartette of prisoners halted before her.
Spynsair Ahrnahld stood and opened another of those deadly folders, then turned to Sharleyan.
“Your Majesty,” he said, “we bring before you, accused of treason, Zhulyis Pahlmahn, Parsaivahl Lahmbair, Ahstell Ibbet, and Charlz Dobyns.”
“I attest that all of them were tried before a court of Church, Lords, and Commons and that all rights and procedures were carefully observed,” Father Neythan added. “Each had benefit of counsel and was allowed to examine all the evidence against him and each was permitted to summon witnesses of his choice to testify on his behalf.”
It was obvious the Langhornite was repeating a well-rehearsed formula, Sharleyan thought, yet it wasn’t a routine formula. He and his two assistants actually had examined each of the court dockets and case records individually.
“Upon what grounds were they accused?”
“Upon the following specifications, Your Majesty,” Ahrnahld said, consulting yet another folder. “Master Pahlmahn stands accused of extending letters of credit upon his banking house and of contributing his personal funds to the raising, equipping, and training of armsmen in the service of Earl Craggy Hill’s conspiracy. He also had personal knowledge of the Earl’s plans to assassinate Earl Anvil Rock and Earl Tartarian as the first step of their coup.
“Master Lahmbair stands accused of allowing ships and freight wagons owned and employed by him to transport pikes, swords, muskets, and gunpowder for the purpose of arming the forces with which Earl Craggy Hill’s conspiracy intended to seize control of the city of Lian in the Earldom of Tartarian.
“Master Ibbet stands accused of joining the armed band intended to seize control of Lian. He is also accused of lending his smithy as a place in which to conceal weapons and of assuming the acting rank of captain in the band being raised in that place.
“And Master Dobyns stands accused of helping to plan, organize, and train the individuals who, in accordance with Bishop Executor Thomys Shylair’s instructions, were to attack the garrison from within in a ‘spontaneous uprising’ here in Manchyr should Craggy Hill’s forces approach the city.”
Sharleyan sat for a moment, looking at all four of them. Ibbet and Pahlmahn looked back at her with hopeless but unyielding defiance. Lahmbair seemed sunk in resignation, his eyes fixed on the floor, his shoulders sagging. Dobyns, the youngest of the three by a good fifteen years or more, looked frankly terrified. He was fighting to conceal it, that much was obvious, but she could see it in the taut shoulders, the hands clenched into fists at his sides, the lips tightly compressed to keep them from trembling.
“And has the court which heard their cases reached a verdict?” she asked.
“It has, Your Majesty,” Ahrnahld replied. “All of them have been adjudged guilty of all charges brought against them.” He extracted a thin sheaf of documents from his folder. “The verdicts have been signed, sealed, and mutually witnessed by every member of the court, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you,” Sharleyan said, and silence echoed as she swept her brown eyes once again across all four of those faces.
“One of a monarch’s duties is to punish criminal actions,” she said finally. “It’s a grim duty, and one not lightly to be embraced. It leaves its weight here.” She touched her own chest. “Yet it may not be shirked, either. It must be dealt with by any ruler worthy of the crown he or she wears. The courts here in your own Princedom have weighed the evidence against you and found all of you guilty of the crimes charged against you. And, as all of you are painfully aware by this time, the sentence for your crimes is death. There is no lesser sentence we may impose upon you, and so we sentence you to die.”
Lahmbair’s shoulders twitched, and young Dobyns closed his eyes, swaying slightly, but Ibbet and Pahlmahn only looked back at her. Clearly the sentence had come as no surprise to any of them.
“Yet having passed that sentence,” Sharleyan said after a moment, “we wish to make a brief digression.”
Lahmbair’s gaze rose from the floor, his expression confused, and Dobyns’ eyes popped open in surprise. The other two looked less confused than Lahmbair, but the wariness in their expressions only intensified.
“Father Neythan has reviewed every case, every verdict, to be brought before us for the sad duty of rendering sentence. Yet we have reviewed these cases, these verdicts, as well, and not simply with the eye of a law master whose duty it is to see that all the stern requirements of the law he serves have been faithfully observed. And because we’ve reviewed those cases, we know, Master Ibbet, that you joined the rebellion against the Regency Council not simply because of your religious beliefs-which are deeply and sincerely held-but because your brother and your nephew died in the Battle of Darcos Sound, your eldest son died in Talbor Pass… and your youngest son died in the Battle of Green Valley.”
Ibbet’s strong, weathered face seemed to crumple. Then it solidified into stone, yet Sharleyan’s aided vision saw a tear glimmer in the dim light as she reminded him of all he’d lost.
“As for you, Master Pahlmahn,” she continued, turning to the banker, “we know you asked nothing from Craggy Hill or the other conspirators when you provided them with the money they sought from you. We know you ruined yourself providing those funds, and we know you did it because you are a devout Temple Loyalist. But we also know you did it because your son Ahndrai was a member of Prince Hektor’s personal guard who gave his life saving his Prince from an assassin’s arbalest bolt… and that you believe that assassin was sent by Charis. He wasn’t.” She looked directly into Pahlmahn’s eyes. “We give you our word- I give you my word, as Sharleyan Ahrmahk, not as an empress-that that assassin was not sent by Charis, yet that doesn’t change the fact that you believed he was.
“And you, Master Lahmbair.” The greengrocer’s gaze snapped to her face. “You aided the conspirators because they needed your wagons and your barges and they took steps to see they had them. Your sister and her family-and your parents-live in Telitha, do they not?” Lahmbair’s eyes flared wide. “And Earl Storm Keep’s agents told you what would happen to them if you chose not to cooperate?” Lahmbair nodded convulsively, almost as if it were against his will, and she tilted her head to one side. “That was what you told the court, yet there wasn’t a single witness to confirm it, was there? Not even your sister, as much as she longed to. For that matter, we very much doubt Earl Storm Keep, for all the crimes of which he was most assuredly guilty, would truly have murdered an elderly couple, their daughter, their son-in-law, and their grandchildren simply because you refused to cooperate. Yet we believe the threat was made, and there was no way you might have known it hadn’t been made in all sincerity.”
She looked into Lahmbair’s face, seeing the shock, the disbelief, that anyone-especially she-might actually have believed his story. She held his gaze for several seconds in the dim light, and then turned to Dobyns.
“And you, Master Dobyns.”
The young man twitched as if she’d just touched him with a hot iron, and despite the gravity and grimness of the moment, she felt her lips try to smile. She crushed the temptation and looked sternly down at him from her throne.
“You lost no one in battle against Charis, Master Dobyns,” she told him. “You lost no one to an assassin’s bolts, and no one threatened your family. For that matter, we rather doubt your religious convictions run so deep and so fiercely as to have compelled you to join this conspiracy. Yet it’s obvious to us that the true reason for your complicity, the true flaw which brings you to this place this day, is far simpler than any of those: stupidity.”
Dobyns jerked again, his expression incredulous, and for a moment the entire ballroom seemed frozen in place. Then someone cracked a laugh, and others joined him, unable not to, be the moment ever so grim. Sharleyan smiled herself, briefly, but then she banished the expression and leaned forward slightly.
“Do not mistake us, Master Dobyns,” she said coldly through the last ripples of amusement. “This is no laughing matter. People would have died had you succeeded in the task the Bishop Executor had assigned you, and you knew it. But we believe you’d also strayed into dark and dangerous waters before you truly understood what you were doing. We believe that thoroughly though your actions merit the sentence we’ve passed upon you, your death will accomplish nothing, heal nothing-have no effect but to deprive you of any opportunity to learn from your
