The Edge of Shadow, page 6
part #5 of The Kin of Kings Series
Basen risked pulling the Krepp’s arm down and was relieved when Rickik didn’t resist.
“Abith doesn’t want to fight against us,” Basen said, fearful he might be igniting a brawl between the Krepps and his trusted instructor. “He certainly had nothing to do with the cowardly ambush in Tenred castle, but some of the men over there were involved in the plot to kill your Krepps, and Crea definitely was involved. You must give Cleve and me more time to figure out what they are planning here at the Academy before we decide how to handle them. I think Crea is plotting another cowardly ambush here, yet she needs the help of those men to do it. We all must be prepared for an attack as we try to figure out who’s guilty so we can prevent it.”
Nebre struggled with this translation for a while, but eventually the Krepps seemed to understand. Rickik bent his back to put his glaring eyes in front of Basen’s. “How you figure this out? No lie!”
It was a surprisingly insightful question from the simplistic creature. Almost all of this had been based on feeling alone. As Basen thought of a way to explain it, Cleve answered for him.
“At least one of them has to be communicating with Crea. The incident at Redfield confirmed this. While we figure out who is communicating with her, as well as how, where, and what they’re saying, we need more eyes watching for people leaving the wall during the night. Kreppen eyes are best in the dark.”
This was exactly what Basen was getting at. He nodded in agreement. “We need your help.”
“We watch,” Rickik said. “But no kill without…see betrayal or see ambush.”
Basen was thankful Rickik already knew this without Basen having to remind the savage beast.
“Yes, and it’s important not to let our enemies know what you know. If asked, your Krepps are watching for Ulric’s troops because battle is coming.”
“Are you able to recognize my Uncle Terren?” Cleve asked. “And Jack Rose?”
“Yes, many Krepps recognize Terren,” Rickik answered. He transitioned to Kreppen to ask his Krepps about Jack.
They moved their hands through the air as they seemed to be describing him.
“Yes for Jack,” Rickik told Basen and Cleve. “Dark skin. Easy face.”
Basen figured he meant “friendly” by that. There was one important question left. “Do you know what Crea Hiller looks like?”
Rickik asked his Krepps. Many of them used their hands to draw the shape of her head and hair in the air.
“Yes,” Rickik answered. “Light skin. Dark and short hair. Hard face.”
It seemed accurate enough.
Cleve took Basen aside. “Next time, warn me before you incite these creatures into doing something.” He waited for Basen to nod before continuing. “The psychics questioned everyone except Abith. It’s him we need to worry about speaking with Crea. I still don’t know why my uncle—”
“Terren trusts him, which is why he didn’t force him to answer. If Abith revealed that he has no intention of leading these Tenred men against Terren in the future, they’ll turn against him and choose someone else to lead them.”
Cleve cast his eyes down at Basen in disappointment. “His training with you has bought your trust.”
“He hasn’t just been training with me, Cleve.”
“Who else?”
He would have to break his promise to Terren. Too much had been set in motion to stop now.
“Your uncle. They spar together.” Abith wasn’t training with Terren any longer, as Abith’s time was better spent with Basen so the both of them could improve their battle casting, but Cleve didn’t need to know this detail.
“Abith told you this? He lies.”
“No, I stumbled upon it by accident a while ago, before I started training with Abith. I’ve seen them go at it for hours. They look like friends.”
Cleve glared incredulously toward Terren’s table. “I think he’s losing what makes him a great headmaster,” Cleve whispered, adding in an even softer voice, “It’s Jackrie.”
Even if Basen hadn’t heard the rumors about Terren and Jackrie, their relationship would’ve been obvious from the times he’d seen them sitting close in the dining hall. He didn’t hide his disappointment at Cleve’s statement.
“A relationship won’t weaken a leader.”
Cleve shook his head. “Never mind. I misspoke.”
Krepps pounding on the table while laughing distracted them for a breath. He and Cleve moved farther away.
“You’re taking a risk turning the Krepps against Crea without proof,” Cleve complained. “They are not subtle creatures, yet you ask them for subtlety. This could all go wrong too easily.”
It wasn’t exactly a question, but Cleve seemed to be waiting for Basen to defend his actions.
“Crea has to be planning something against the Academy. Why else would she meet with an officer from my late uncle’s army?”
Cleve let out a breath of distress. “I was hoping you had more to go on than Cassius Lane’s vague answers in the stadium.”
“I don’t, but it’s enough to be sure.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day, Basen noticed many Krepps on the wall. He hoped they had been there throughout the night because it was during the darkness that a betrayal was most likely. The human guards around them seemed to be spending as much time watching the creatures as they did looking out for signs of an attack.
Basen knew a worry would distract him for days to come. His allies could not set up scouts anywhere along the Fjallejon Pathway because Ulric had control of the mountain, so if an attack came from the north—from Tenred—they wouldn’t know until their enemies were already upon them. He hoped Terren had a plan for such an event, but it wasn’t his place to ask. Perhaps most of Tenred’s army was already here within the walls. Basen wished he knew how many they had in total.
During his training with Abith, Basen got a surprise visit from someone he never expected to seek him out. Reela called his name from the wall.
“Attack?” Basen feared as he and Abith rushed over to the rope so they could climb up.
“Not that,” Reela said. “No need to rush up here.”
Basen didn’t know the psychic too well, but he was familiar enough with her to notice her heavy eyes. She looked as if she hadn’t slept a wink last night.
“Sanya chose you to speak on her behalf,” Reela said.
“What?”
Reela repeated herself, but it only made Basen more confused.
“Do you accept?” Reela asked.
“Would this be during her trial?” Basen assumed.
“I didn’t say that?”
“No.”
Reela placed her hand on her forehead. “Forgive me, I’m exhausted. Yes, her trial. Do you accept?”
“Why does she need me?”
“She doesn’t need you. She’ll be speaking for herself, but Terren has allowed her to choose someone to speak for her as well. She wants that person to be you.”
Basen had feared something like this would happen. Sanya had no one else. What would Effie think of him if he supported Sanya? What would Cleve?
“When’s the trial?”
“As soon as I can find someone to speak on her behalf or if I come to the conclusion there’s no one.”
“Have you asked any others before me?”
“No. Yours was the first and only she’s given so far. She said you’re the closest thing to a friend.”
A sound of disappointment slipped out of Basen’s mouth. It was too sad a notion for him to be Sanya’s closest friend when even he wanted her to pay for her crimes. Reela should know this.
“But I want her to be punished,” he said. “Severely.”
The psychic shrugged. “Do you accept or not?”
Basen scratched his head. “Should I?”
“I don’t know, Basen. It’s up to you.”
He looked down as he thought. “Does she expect me to say only good things? Because I would run out of words quickly.”
“I believe she’s just expecting you to help her tell the truth.”
“Which is what?”
“She repents. She wants to fight.” Reela paused for a long while but didn’t seem to be done, gazing up at the clouds as if in thought. “She believes she can contribute to this world—and specifically to our cause.”
He supposed there was a lot of truth to that. They could use her, but then what?
“I’m tired,” Reela said with a sigh. “If you aren’t going to accept, I need to find someone else.”
“I accept.” He’d known he would as soon as she’d asked. He’d just wanted more information.
Abith interrupted, “Basen, you have a lot of work to do to reach your potential. Do you owe this woman something?” The question was asked rhetorically.
“Yes. I might not be alive if it wasn’t for her.”
“Yet she might be dead if it wasn’t for me,” Abith countered. “Seems fair to go back to your training.”
“What’s fair would be if she does a favor for you later, not for me to ignore her.”
“Then go.” Abith frowned. “Just be quick about it.” He started up the rope first.
“Where is the trial?” Basen asked Reela as he climbed the rope after.
“Redfield,” Abith answered to Basen’s surprise. “We’ll be walking there together because I’m part of the jury.”
*****
Nick and Alex’s relatives couldn’t be at the trial, as there was no way for word to reach them safely, nor was there a way for them to get to the Academy. Only Ulric’s men could travel between the cities without risk of death or capture. So it was Nick and Alex’s friends, Basen soon learned, who would have to argue what kind of justice they wanted on the victims’ behalf.
“This is a matter of justice, not forgiveness,” Terren explained soon after Basen and Abith arrived. “This trial will not be about whether there is sufficient evidence to execute Sanya, as she has already admitted to her crimes and has come here to face her punishment. It’s about deciding whether executing Sanya is the right choice for the Academy and everyone outside these walls. Normally a matter like this is decided by the king or his representatives of justice, but because of circumstances we are all aware of, we’re forced to settle this matter differently.”
There weren’t many people present in the vast stadium. Terren’s trusted instructors made up the jury: Jack, Trela, Sneary, Abith—who probably came as a surprise to the others—and Wilfre, which surprised Basen.
Effie stood facing the jury, surely to argue for Sanya’s execution. Sanya was a good distance from everyone, sitting on her own side of the audience section. She looked even more tired than Reela as her head wavered. She had chains around her hands and presumably her feet. Reela and Vithos had taken their own solitary spot in the arena. They were probably here for psyche, but Basen didn’t see the point if Sanya could lie without detection. Vithos looked no better than Reela—and that’s when Basen realized it: They’ve spent all night with Sanya learning to detect her lies.
There were no seats in the arena, no tables, no podiums, no stage. Steffen scribbled away like a madman while seated in the first row of the audience, probably writing down every word to keep a record of the event. The whole thing felt too informal. It seemed wrong for this group of individuals standing in partially organized clusters to decide a woman’s fate.
Basen had been told to take any seat in the audience benches, so he sat next to Cleve. Terren had probably invited his nephew to watch and possibly speak if he wanted to. But Basen didn’t know whether the warrior would speak for Sanya or in support of Effie.
“We will start with Effie,” Terren said. “I want to remind you again, Effie, officially, so that our scribe can write it down this time, that it is not your responsibility to convince us of anything. Even if you choose to say nothing, we still understand the importance of upholding our laws and are able to come to a fair decision in this matter. The reason we give you the chance to speak is in case there’s anything you might want to add, having been so close to one of the victims, that someone in our position might fail to consider. You may begin, Effie.”
“I don’t have much to say, headmaster. I trust that you and everyone on the jury already know that we can’t have a woman walking around free who has murdered people in their sleep.” There was fury in Effie’s tone as she spoke each word with force. “I miss Nick, and I didn’t even know him that well. So Alex…” Her voice broke as emotion overwhelmed her. “The pain that I feel…” Effie started to cry. “It seems like it will never end, made worse by his murderer living and breathing…while he is not. Sanya might have helped us, and she might continue to help us, but that does not mean she should go free. There’s only one thing she can do that will make me feel better about losing Alex, and that’s dying.”
Damn, Basen whispered to himself. Effie’s sharp tone had made the hostile air even more volatile. A tense moment of silence passed as Effie visibly forced herself to stop crying.
“I don’t like the person I’ve become,” she said and almost began crying again. “Sometimes I hear myself talking about killing Sanya, and it doesn’t feel like me. But I wouldn’t have to be like this if I knew she would finally receive the punishment she deserves. I’m somewhat relaxed for the first time since Alex’s death, now that she’s here, and that you, headmaster, and the rest of you on the jury will decide her fate. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Effie,” Terren said. “Would you like to call Cleve down here to speak?”
That immediately made Basen uncomfortable for sitting so close to Cleve. He should’ve taken a spot farther around the bend of the curved stadium. They glanced at each other, then looked away. Each of them shifted.
“I don’t know,” Effie told Terren, then glared up at Cleve behind her. “That depends on what he’s going to say.” Beneath her words was a warning. He had better not go against her or he would forever regret it.
A cold sweat came over Basen as Effie shifted her gaze to him. He showed her a look of apology. She turned away.
Cleve stood with purpose and swung his long legs over the wall. He dropped down into the arena and walked over to Effie.
“Terren said this wasn’t about forgiveness but justice,” he began. “In that case, it’s simple.” But he stopped. The pause went on long enough for everyone to tell he was having second thoughts. Sanya’s chains clinked as she shifted on the other side of the stadium.
“May I speak?” Sanya asked as she stood.
“Only once Cleve is done,” Terren replied.
Cleve took his time, glancing first at Reela, then at Effie. The small mage to his side gestured for him to go on.
“I’d like to hear what Sanya says first,” Cleve told the jury.
Terren and the rest of them looked at each other. Wilfre shook his head at Cleve. “That’s not the procedure we agreed upon.”
Cleve waited for his uncle to confirm his request. That seemed to offend Wilfre, as he crossed his arms and glared at the headmaster.
“Say what you need to say now, Cleve,” Terren told him. “We don’t have time for this to draw on.”
“I suppose I just want to say that I agree with Effie. Now that Sanya’s here and her fate will be decided by people I trust, I feel better.” He grumbled in what sounded to be frustration. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be talking about.”
Terren put up his hands. “That was fine, Cleve. Thank you for your input.”
Cleve shrugged and muttered something as he returned to his seat. For reasons unknown to Basen, the big warrior seemed embarrassed.
“Now, Sanya, you may come down here to speak,” Terren said. “But stay close to Reela and Vithos, and don’t make any sudden movements.”
Sanya tried to get down into the arena by slowly scooting her rear toward the edge. The chains at her wrists and ankles made the short drop dangerous, yet no one came over to offer assistance even as she looked around for help. Murmuring to herself, she edged closer to the drop then looked up once more. Everyone else held still. She slid off the edge and landed hard on her side. She murmured more as she pushed herself up and then slowly made her way over to Reela.
The long walk was painful to watch. Basen was thankful when Abith walked over to her, lifted her up over his shoulder, and carried her the rest of the way. It earned him disapproving looks from everyone on the jury but Terren.
Sanya seemed in discomfort as all focus returned to her. She looked as if she was too tired to care about anything but sleep, her shoulders slack, her head atilt. But then she licked her lips and took in a breath, and her visible fatigue disappeared.
“If I were an enemy, then the decision would be simple.” She paused. “If my being alive continued to threaten your system of justice, then the decision would be simple. If I might take more lives of your allies, of your friends, or of your family, then the decision would be simple. But I am no longer an enemy and never will be again. By being alive, I will only help bring others to justice—others who do threaten the Academy. I will take no more lives of your allies, of your friends, or of your family. I will only take the lives of your enemies…who I hope to be our mutual enemies soon. This is not a simple matter. We can claim it is simple by saying that all murderers deserve to die no matter the circumstance, but we know that’s not true. Most of the people in this stadium have killed others. The only reason I’m on trial is because I killed the wrong people at the wrong time.”
Sanya looked at Reela and stopped for a few breaths. “I’m sorry,” she told the jury, then turned to Effie. “I’m sorry.” She looked back at Cleve and Basen. “I’m sorry.” Finally, she glanced back at Reela. “I’m sorry. I wish I could tell everyone how sorry I was, and if you let me live, then eventually I will. There is a difference between the people I’ve killed and the people the rest of you have killed. I agree that it should be the reason I’m here on trial. I only bring it to light to further explain that there is nothing simple about this. All murderers are not executed. Please don’t let that idea cause you to make a decision that will hurt the Academy.
