Trapped, page 45
part #3 of Treason and Truth Series
* * *
When Richardson knocked and entered the Inner Office, he bowed and waited; a sheaf of documents in his hand.
“Did you oversleep?” enquired Adeone amused.
Richardson smiled. “I must have, Sire. I’ll get my timepiece fixed. I understand Your Majesty won’t be working this afternoon.”
“That is the plan. If those documents in your hand don’t wreck it?”
“They shouldn’t, Sire. Standard reports, one or two letters also and there is, I regret to say, what looks like a chest from Lord Daioch. There’s a letter from His Lordship also.”
Adeone nodded. “I’ll read his letter first.”
The letter was a normal piece of correspondence between two friends. It didn’t hint at what the chest contained and Adeone finished it, rather puzzled by the secrecy as Landis entered. Adeone half smiled in welcome as he put the letter on his desk.
“Landis, your wed-brother gets more cryptic. He’s sent a chest and made no reference to it in his letter. I have a feeling he’s trying to surprise me and I’m not sure I appreciate it.”
“Ifor would never have malicious intentions, sir. If he has said nothing it will be for good reason. Why don’t you see what’s in the chest.”
Two minutes later, Adeone checked the seals and, concluding they hadn’t been tampered with, took his dagger out and cut the cords that secured the chest.
Landis said conversationally, “Using your dagger like that won’t do it any good, Sire.”
Adeone ignored him and lifted the lid. Beneath it were sweet aromatic wood shavings. He smiled. Ifor had even planned the packing material. “I don’t think it’s a wise idea for me to put my hands blindly into that.”
Landis chuckled. “Probably wise, sir. Ifor was involved in several of our schemes when we were younger.”
“I’ll get Sergeant Kilbride, Your Majesty,” said Richardson.
A few minutes later, Adeone was looking at what would be described as a sculpture. It was more map-like than anything else: a perfect miniature of the Low Plains in three dimensions under a glass dome. Different woods showed roads and rivers, but the forests were crushed emeralds and Lake Drenga crushed blue sapphires, with Ull’s Watchtower being a single polished column of obsidian. Adeone inspected it with delight.
“Kilbride, put that back in the chest and remove it from this office,” ordered Landis, his blood running cold. “Your Majesty, I shall explain once that device is out of this room.”
Kilbride hesitated but, at a nod from Adeone, did as requested. Once he and the chest had gone, Adeone glared at his Defender.
Landis read more than a request in his face; it was an order. “Sire, this will be as difficult for me to say as it is for you to hear. That gift – it is not as innocent as it seems.”
Adeone froze. “That is hardly an explanation, Landis!”
“Can I speak to you privately, Sire?”
“Richardson, you’ll know when I need you. Postpone counsel. I rather think His Lordship decided my day didn’t have enough upset.” Once Richardson had gone, Adeone snapped, “So?”
“Obsidian is a scryer’s tool, Sire. Have you forgotten? That fine sculpture, and I admit it is exquisite, has a polished obsidian surface. It could be used to scry on Your Majesty, to discover what your decisions are, what Your Majesty is currently working on—”
“Thank you. I get the picture,” snapped Adeone. “Sicla! Why did you have to tell me?”
Landis said, “Do you think it gives me pleasure to incriminate my wed-brother, sir?”
Adeone walked away. He had to – had to collect his thoughts.
Landis, standing foursquare, waited. Adeone never liked distrusting his friends, and it wasn’t that long since the revelations about Dunius had shaken his faith, their faith in long held certainties.
“There’s no doubt that came from Daioch?” demanded Adeone.
“None, sir. You inspected the seals yourself.”
Adeone frowned. “How could he have been so foolish? Made such a potentially devastating mistake? How?”
Evasion wouldn’t save his wed-brother. However much he, Landis, wanted to help, Adeone wasn’t daft. “Ifor is an expert in the commodities of the Low Plains, sir. He cannot be ignorant of the uses for obsidian.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
Landis gritted his teeth for a moment, trying to deny what he thought and not succeeding. “We have no evidence that it was a mistake, Sire. It could just as easily be intended.”
Adeone glared at him. “Are you trying to push me into this action?”
“No, sir, I am, I hope, merely stating facts. I am too involved privately with Lord Daioch to make any sort of informed decision.”
“So, this is entirely left to me?” scoffed Adeone. “How supportive.”
Landis sighed. “I can tell you what I think is the right action, but I don’t think my sister would thank me for it.”
Adeone nodded. “Then you’d better leave. Tell Richardson I’ll need him in two minutes.”
Landis bowed, relieved but guilt-ridden. “Thank you, Sire.”
* * *
Once alone, Adeone summoned Dragoris. His small red dragon messenger appeared on his outstretched palm. Two moments later, a hazy link formed, totally opaque to an outsider’s view. “Tuchlin, I am about to order the arrest of Lord Daioch. I am sorry for the inconvenience.”
The Tuchlin stared. “Arrest? Ifor? Why? Sire?”
Adeone said grimly, “There is a matter on which he needs questioning. Please do not warn him. Just see the commander gets all help he requires.”
“Of course, Your Majesty, but I think I am entitled to an explanation if you are arresting my Deputy Governor, Sire.”
Adeone eyed him. “Obsidian is the reason, Aldwy.”
The Tuchlin frowned. “We trade it for many things. Mostly it is considered a sort of gemstone. Luckily, it’s good for knives—”
“Also, it is used for scrying.”
The Tuchlin’s face became a picture of realisation. “Ah. That had slipped my mind, sir. I’ll certainly have some questions for him.”
“No, Aldwy, my commander will have,” stated Adeone.
“Surely, sir, that’s a bit forceful—”
Adeone’s face set. “It was not a suggestion, Your Excellency. To endanger the security of my office is treason. I presume you understand all implications and actions. I shall contact the commander, expect him to be with you shortly. Do not alert Lord Daioch, unless you also wish to be under arrest.”
“Very well, Sire. Thank you for the warning. I still think there’s some mistake though.”
“If there is, I doubt you will be the only one celebrating.”
Adeone contacted the commander stationed at Eyllyn Fort, the conversation was one he’d never dreamt he’d be having and almost resented Landis for having recognised the issue. He’d not say Landis had forced his hand; he’d done what his duties demanded of him and no more. If Daioch hadn’t been his wed-brother, Landis would have taken on far more, but this was, for once, solely the King’s decision and doing.
The Eyllyn Commander couldn’t have been more shocked had it been himself under arrest; ironically, it went some way to ameliorate Adeone’s feelings. It wasn’t just he who couldn’t believe it. The conversation was short, bare essentials only, nothing to betray Adeone’s feelings: either the incredulity or the nagging doubt it could be true that Lord Ifor Daioch was a traitor.
Chapter 72
ARREST
Morning
Low Plains – Eyllyn
LORD ALDWY exited from the link with the King in a grim mood. Why hadn’t he thought about the present when he’d seen it? He might have been busy, but he should have considered what was being sent to the King with more diligence. The Low Plains had no scryers, the concentration of obsidian distorted what they could observe. A seer of legend was meant to be the only person who could use magic to observe the province.
Quarter of an hour later, his secretary announced the commander.
“Come in, Commander. Lord Daioch is in a meeting and I’m—”
“Not for much longer,” interrupted the commander. “I am not here to receive orders, Your Excellency. I understand you wish to be present at the arrest and interrogation. Your Excellency may be present at the arrest but not at the interrogation. Those are the King’s orders.”
“We’ll see. Let’s go.”
Holding open the door, the commander bit back his annoyance. The last thing he needed was a lord hindering his investigation.
Ignoring Daioch’s secretary, the Tuchlin entered the Deputy Governor’s modest office. His eyes swept over the other attendees. “This meeting may be finished at a later date.”
As the perplexed attendees left, Daioch’s eyes flicked to the commander and four guards. He opened his mouth, but Aldwy said,
“Do not resume your seat, Daioch. There are many questions you must answer—”
The commander cleared his throat.
Daioch looked between them. “Might I ask, just ask, what this is about?”
The commander replied before the Tuchlin could. “Lord Ifor Daioch, you are under arrest for treason…”
Ifor blanched. “What—? I’ve not— I’d never— I—”
“That is not the opinion of the King after the little gift that was sent—” remarked Aldwy.
The commander snapped, “Sir, would you please mind if I conducted this interview in accordance with His Majesty’s instructions? No? Good! Lord Daioch, what was the gift?”
Confused, hands shaking, Daioch said, “A map of the Low Plains in woods and gems. What’s—? Why—? Commander, of what exactly am I accused?”
“I have already said. Why did you send that gift in particular?”
“It seemed fitting and it was beautiful workmanship, very beautiful. The King is an admirer of such things. How on Erinna is it treason to wish to please your King?”
The commander was still grave. “Who made the piece?”
“A craftsman of Eyllyn. I had him supplied with the materials. What is the problem, Tuchlin?”
The commander shot Aldwy a glance to keep him silent and the Tuchlin bit his tongue; he didn’t need the commander informing the King that he’d interfered beyond his remit.
The commander said, “We’ll need the name of the craftsman, so we can pay him a visit. Did you see the piece before sending it to Oedran?”
“Yes, yes, of course…”
“Did you, Tuchlin?”
“Briefly. It was from Lord Daioch personally, and I would point out, Commander, that you are meant to be questioning His Lordship, not me.”
The commander grimaced. Just because the King trusted the governor didn’t mean he would, but he didn’t need the Tuchlin making a complaint about his manner. “My apologies, sir, anything that threatens the King gets me annoyed. Lord Daioch, you say you saw the finished piece, you acquired the materials in fact… not surprisingly; that much obsidian must have been hard to obtain – especially as scryers the empire over require the stone. Ah, I see you’ve realised what you sent to Oedran.” His voice changed from polite enquiry to a harsher, more determined tone. “You have endangered the safety and security of the King’s office. You were responsible for the gift. We will investigate, but you had better hope the King is feeling merciful. I shall return after we have spoken to the craftsman. For now, my men will escort you home and you will remain under house arrest until we have contacted the King to see what he wishes to do on the matter. You are to talk to no-one about what is happening, not even your family. You will contact nobody. What is the craftsman’s name?”
Daioch gave it, sick at heart. It was surely a mistake. Even then, the consequences would be far-reaching. How could he convince them he hadn’t ever considered the use of obsidian? He couldn’t. He had merely seen a gift, something to send to the King, and now he’d pay the price for someone else’s plans. Had Scanlon been the architect of the situation? Had he fallen into a trap? Had he implicated Aldwy as well? Had his stupidity opened up the Low Plains to Scanlon’s schemes? Then, from the depths of his memory, from a conversation in the past, a thought surfaced, an ancient law – one that could work for him, probably the only one that would. He drew in the deepest breath of his life.
“As the Alcis will bear me witness, I knew not what I sent. I would ask that I am taken before the King, to prove my loyalty to him. I will swear it on my fealty.” As the words left him, bile rose. Adeone wouldn’t thank him, but he had to hope that the King would understand why he had made the request.
Aldwy blanched. “You would be tried by the fealty you have sworn, and are yet to swear?”
Daioch held his gaze. “I would. I most certainly would. May truth spare my liege and my life.”
The commander glanced between them. Amongst lords, the phrase to swear on one’s fealty was common enough and wouldn’t impress him into believing someone’s innocence. Had he missed something? The Tuchlin and Lord Daioch were eyeing each other in an odd way.
Aldwy said, “I cannot read the proof, for having seen the gift, I am also under suspicion. You will have to undergo a full trial—”
“If the King will see me, I will travel to Oedran.”
The commander interrupted, “Maybe I wasn’t clear; you’re not going anywhere, Lord Daioch.”
“Be quiet!” snapped Aldwy. “If you have such little knowledge of the ancient laws, be good enough not to share your ignorance with us. Lord Daioch, I shall contact His Majesty, but what will you do if he doesn’t accept the trial?”
“Put myself in the hands of the commander and resign my post. I cannot continue in it without both yours and the King’s trust and I know of no other way of proving my innocence.”
Aldwy nodded. “So be it. Commander, Lord Daioch must be given access to an alcium to come to terms with what he’s decided. I shall speak to the King.”
The commander said, “Might I know what he’s just decided?”
“To travel to Oedran, barefoot, and to swear a life-binding fealty, then to be asked questions on this treachery – if he lies or admits he ever considered the uses the gift could be put to he will die where he stands.”
The commander let out a curse. “You would do this even though we might prove your innocence another way, Lord Daioch?”
Daioch nodded. “Yes, of course, yes. You might prove it was not my idea but this is the only way to clear my name completely.”
The commander let out a long breath, genuinely impressed. “You’re braver than me. You’ll have to live with that life-bind all your years.”
“I am aware of that, very much aware of that,” replied Daioch, his stomach roiling. He had a few days to come to terms with his decision, but he knew how risky it was, as well as how necessary. If Adeone’s rage at the situation was such to instigate his arrest, if it hadn’t cooled by the time the life-bind happened, that rage itself would cause him untold pain.
“I shall speak to His Majesty.” Aldwy left the office. If their places had been reversed, would he ever have considered what Lord Daioch just had done? No. The trial would last his lifetime. Was there any way he could talk his Deputy Governor out of the action? Probably not. Daioch was astute and erudite. He understood everything he had requested.
He contacted the King, his mind still in turmoil. Daioch’s request wouldn’t just affect him. He had asked more of the King than any man in a hundred years, and the King didn’t have to agree. As the link formed, he tried to compose himself.
“Well, Your Excellency?”
“Lord Daioch was at a loss to understand why he was being questioned until the issue of scryers came up, Sire. I would think he is innocent. His actions certainly suggested it. He wishes for trial by fealty, sir.”
“Pardon?” exclaimed Adeone.
“He wishes to prove his innocence to you by a life-bind,” replied Aldwy, examining the King’s face as closely as he dared for any sign of acceptance or rejection.
“That certainly suggests he’s innocent,” replied Adeone, gravely. “He is determined?”
“Yes, sir. He says it is the only way to prove his innocence. I’m not convinced—”
The King cut across him. “If I refuse to permit it?” Ifor was right, but the consequences of a trial by fealty might be further reaching than Daioch had considered. The law was ancient, older than the Oedranian Empire, but, over the last couple of hundred years, it had been forgotten or regarded as obsolete. To resurrect it might be dangerous, but it might also be fortunate. It would certainly put people off conspiring if they knew the King was willing to shed his own blood to hunt down traitors.
Aldwy replied without hesitation. “He’ll resign and I suspect will do himself some harm. He said he’ll leave himself in the commander’s hands, but I think he knows there is no coming back from this, not unless he proves his innocence to Your Majesty.”
With those words, Adeone also began to wonder if someone wanted to undermine Daioch. Aldwy was perfectly capable, but he would retire from his post within the next few years. Daioch would have been the natural choice. As soon as Adeone considered it, it made more and more sense. Someone was again undermining the reputation of his loyal officials. Daioch had never shown the slightest sign of treachery. Had Adeone, for once, let paranoia get the better of him? Had his father influenced him so much, in instilling in him that he could trust no-one, that he questioned even his most loyal officials and friends? He despised himself. First Landis, now Daioch. Aldwy was right: Lord Daioch was likely to do something even more foolish if he refused to permit the trial. He would have to travel to Oedran. History would have to take its course.
