Inwardly, Tayschrenn winced. By the Great Worm’s Fate,
The Fang brought forward an elderly, emaciated priest whose fringe of grey hair stood in all directions as if he’d just emerged from a windstorm. His rheumy reddened eyes darted about the temple until they latched on to Tayschrenn. He pointed, and began nodding fiercely. ‘Yes, yes,’ he croaked in his hoarse crow’s voice. ‘That’s the one. That’s the slimy dissembler. The trickster.’
Feneresh was waving his hands for silence. ‘Please! For the court: what is your accusation?’
The priest drew himself up as straight as he could. He pressed a knotted hand to his chest. ‘For near two decades I was assistant to dear old Ithell. You all know that. I wore the red sash and was proud to be of service!’ He shot a bent finger to Tayschrenn. ‘Then this one came along. Spreading lies about me, undermining my authority. Through his tricks and dissembling he wheedled his way into Ithell’s confidence. He turned Ithell against me … the man I dedicated my life to … and he stole my position!’
Tayschrenn could not help shaking his head. The old man had never really recovered from being asked to step aside. But he’d been half blind, and so very forgetful; indeed, Ithell had been of the opinion that his mind had been going, and that was over four years ago.
Feneresh clasped his hands at his back and, lowering his voice, asked, ‘What … tricks … exactly are we speaking of?’
The oldster nodded eagerly, the pointing finger quivering. ‘He stole documents and hid them – important cult communications – and blamed me! He forged fake notes, records and inventories – signed them in my name! All to make me look bad…’ the old man’s wet lips started to shake and he was blinking uncontrollably, ‘incompetent even … when I was just serving a great man! Broke my heart, the bastard.’
Tayschrenn knew he should stop shaking his head, but he could not. It was obvious that all the man’s resentment and bitterness at being set aside had settled upon his head. As to the missing documents, and the error-ridden records, yes, he had called Ithell’s attention to the oversights – duty had compelled him. And now Laccon had obviously deteriorated mentally even further; surely this must be obvious to all.
‘He even … even…’ Laccon wavered, swallowing hard and peering about as if lost.
‘Yes?’ Feneresh urged. ‘He did what? You can tell us – you need not fear him.’
The man wet his lips. ‘He even … even boasted about how he’d be the next Demidrek!’ Hugging himself, nearly shrieking, he added: ‘He said that he’d get rid of Ithell too!’
Quite a few of the audience gasped audibly at this revelation. Tayschrenn blurted a scoffing ‘Oh, come now!’ and instantly regretted the outburst. Six of the judges cast him glares, while Tallow kept his eyes lowered. Feneresh held both hands out towards Tayschrenn as if inviting all to examine him as if he were some sort of specimen, and murmured just loud enough to carry about the temple: ‘Quite remorseful, I see…’
Furious with the ridiculous proceedings – and more with himself – Tayschrenn clenched his teeth until their grinding chattered about his skull. He’d played into Feneresh’s oily hands. Yet Laccon’s infirmity and absent-mindedness had been known to many here. Surely they must see his accusations as the phantasms of a weakened mind. Tayschrenn glanced to the gallery, and while he’d never been one to exchange pleasantries or nods of greeting with the many who crowded the temple halls, it unnerved him now to see open loathing in the eyes of some gathered there.
Had he been labouring under the delusion that abstract ideals such as justice or truth had anything to do with these proceedings he would have been even more outraged and affronted. Yet – naively perhaps – he found that he could not entirely set aside the belief that
The old priestess actually nodded her bird-like shaven head and looked to Feneresh. ‘Have you any more witnesses to call?’
Feneresh bowed. ‘Just two, Magistrate.’
‘Proceed, then.’
Feneresh turned to one of the Fangs of D’rek. ‘Bring forth the priest Koarsden Taneth.’
Tayschrenn’s breath actually caught. D’rek’s mercy … what on earth could they want with Koarsden? He looked at Tallow, but the fellow was still sitting with his eyes downcast, hands clasped before him, thumbs tapping. The Invigilator had yet to speak, but Tayschrenn knew him to be the true architect of all this – and a masterful one at that.
