Young lovers take note: this is not the way to talk of the lust of your heart in her presence. In proof of which, Olivia took umbrage immediately, and removed herself. Chegory wanted to flee to her side, to apologise, to kneel and kiss, to whisper and grovel. But he was not free to so express himself, for the Empress Justina was still talking to him:
‘… which will be tonight.’
‘Pardon?’ said Chegory.
‘You have an audience with me,’ said the Empress Justina. ‘Tonight.’
‘Tonight?’ said Chegory, gaping like an idiot.
‘All night,’ said the Empress Justina. ‘From dusk to dawn. Undokondra and bardardornootha entire and complete.’
‘My… my lady. I am… I am honoured. But — um — ah…’
But Olivia would kill him.
‘We are glad you are properly appreciative of the honour,’ said Justina severely. ‘That is as it should be. Wait here once you have given evidence. We shall meet at session’s end.’
Thus she spake, then smiled, and withdrew.
Chegory swore to himself as he watched the Empress seat herself on a chair of woven cane and place her crocodileskinned handbag down beside her. A sensible choice was this chair of cane, for it was far too hot to endure the magnificence of a velvet-clad throne. Slaves, each wearing naught but a tight-strapped codpiece, fanned her with ostrich feathers.
[One doubts that either the Empress Justina or her slaves could have been attired as suggested by the Originator. One recalls, for a start, that the ostrich is a purely mythical beast. Yet there are improbabilities here which are larger yet. In all likelihood the descriptions of dress given above are but a quirk of the Originator’s purile imagination. Doubdess the Empress and her slaves were in fact decently clad in woollen gowns and leather weather helms. Sot Dawbler, School of Commentary.]
Then the depositions hearing commenced. Chegory was among the first to give evidence, but once finished he could not leave the session because the Empress Justina had commanded him to wait. Thus he sat solitary. Sweating. Aware that he was being dragonised by the Empress, by Qasaba and Ingalawa, and by Varazchavardan himself.
Gods! What ivsill become of me?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
At length the depositions hearing came to an end. Judge Qil announced his decision.
‘Odolo,’ he said, ‘you can count yourself lucky. I am dismissing several of the charges which have been laid against you. First, the smoking charge. It would be wrong for you to be put on trial for smoking at a royal banquet since the smoking the law alludes to clearly relates to the consumption by combustion of kif, opium or grass clippings.
‘I am reluctantly dismissing the charges of keeping an unmuzzled dragon within the city limits, of displaying a dragon with intent to terrorise and of allowing a dragon to come in close proximity to alcohol. To my deep regret, the law is clear. For the purpose of the relevant clauses a dragon is strictly defined as an imperial dragon, land dragon or sea dragon. The corpse master Uckermark has testified that dissection proves your alleged creation to be none of these three, hence while it is obviously a dragon of some description it is not a dragon for the purposes of the law. It may however be a dog, but that seems doubtful — so the alternative charges of keeping, displaying and allowing a dog are also struck out.
‘A charge of transforming yourself into a beast of terror is also dismissed, as are the accusations of witchcraft, illegal hypnotism, heresy, insult general to a public religion and striking fear into the heart of the Empress. The last charge cannot be sustained since our beloved Empress is the daughter of a Yudonic Knight and is known to be fearless.’ By now both Justina and Odolo were smiling on the judge. But the eminent Qil was not finished. He continued: ‘However, Odolo, on many counts a prima facie case has been established against you.’
The conjuror cringed. The very vraisemblance of cowardice incarnate. The judge onspake remorselessly:
‘Therefore I am committing you to trial on two charges of high treason, three of middle treason, one of low treason and a half-charge of sub-treason. You will also be tried on charges of revolution, waging war against the state, attempted murder, practising generative magic without a licence, littering, common insolence, disorderly conduct, and conduct prejudicial to civil discipline.’
The last charge was the most dangerous because, as virtually anything anyone does can be construed as conduct prejudicial to civil discipline, it is near impossible to launch an effective defence against such a charge. This is why in my own case I had to plead temporary insanity when- [The Originator here presents us with an extended plea in mitigation to explain the conduct of his own life. This has been deleted on the grounds that it is (a) indecent and (b) libellous. Scholars who inspect the unexpurgated text of the original manuscript will doubtless agree that there is nothing temporary about the Originator’s insanity. Srin Gold, Commentator Extraordinary.]
The judge concluded by saying:
‘Have you anything to say?’
‘Yes!’ said Odolo. ‘That I’m innocent!’ Then he turned to the Empress Justina to cry: ‘My lady! Have mercy! I beg you!’
Odolo’s guards roughed him to silence. Justina studied him. Then, with a faint smile on her lips, she said: ‘Should I have mercy? Who will advise me? No, Varazchavardan — I can guess your counsel already.’ She turned to Chegory Guy. Her smile deepened. ‘Let’s try… let’s try advice from another source. Pray tell, what would an Ebrell Islander do?’
Even though there were but few people in the Star Chamber, an audible murmur of outrage ran round that Chamber when thus the Empress spoke. Even Chegory himself was shocked. He slumped down in his chair. Cringing. Pretending he was invisible. Pretending he was asleep. But, as a guard was already poking him with a scimitar, he rapidly realised this strategy could not succeed. Reluctandy, he got to his feet to say:
‘It is not for an Ebrell Islander to dispose of the lives and laws of the free citizens of Untunchilamon.’
‘Nonsense!’ said Justina. ‘All citizens are equal under law, are they not? Lawyers are but citizens like the rest, yet venture to give me advice on a daily basis. If lawyers, then why not you?’
‘Because-’ ventured Varazchavardan.
‘Silence, Vazzy!’ said the Empress in a head-chopping voice. ‘It’s far too hot for argument. Let’s hear the boy speak.’
Varazchavardan ventured no more, but waited for Chegory to give them the benefit of his wisdom. As did everyone. They waited and they watched. Chegory wanted to vanish. To disappear in a clap of thunder and a puff of smoke. To run and run and run and never be seen in Injiltaprajura again. For whatever he said was bound to be wrong. He was totally exposed. Totally vulnerable. Worse Whatever he said, did or tried he was sure to remain visible, exposed and vulnerable. Famous, in a word. For the last couple of days had won him so much notoriety that he would never again be able to pretend he was a rock. His days of safety were over, so doubtless his deathday lay very close in the future.
Then Chegory was seized by inspiration. He turned to Varazchavardan to say:
‘Uh, I’m not, um, how do I say this, well, I’m not, I am not of the Wise, okay, thus seek the help of the Wise. Help of the Master of Law. Varazchavardan the, uh, honourable. We don’t know each other but maybe we could. Know each other, I mean. If he could help me just a bit with this, uh, legal thing, I’d, well, whatever I could help him with I would.’
Chegory was doing his best. He was trying to say:
‘Dear Varazchavardan, you whom I love and respect above all other men, forget you ever saw me with the mad pirates who tried to kidnap you Downstairs. Forget that. Remember instead that I’m the latest imperial favourite. My friendship could be worth having. So do me a favour. Help me out.’
Considering how much he could not say outright he managed (or thought he managed) to get quite a lot of this across. He was most pleased with his eloquent little speech. But was Varazchavardan pleased? The worm-
