Mavka raised a brow at Aloisia.
“Then I ask for more time,” Aloisia said, “so we can find sufficient evidence. And the judgement can be definite.”
The magistrate looked to the other two judiciaries. “Do you both consent to allowing this time?”
“The law grants one week,” the Modäiti said, “and it should suffice.”
High Priest Silas tilted his head. “True enough, the law grants one week of trials in such crimes. However, with the evidence as inconclusive as it is, and accounts of the supernatural coming from even one of my own priests… I think this could be more complex than we had initially anticipated. And the inspection of the markings upon the body is taking longer than I had hoped. More time could prove useful.”
“What say you, Modäiti?” Magistrate Vester looked at her.
“As I said earlier, this is your town. Your word is final, Magistrate. It is not my place to decide, only to counsel. If you feel more time would be beneficial and not a waste of resources, then the decision is yours.”
Magistrate Vester gave a solemn nod, scratching his jaw. “I shall grant a further week to aid in the investigation and the study of the markings. Two weeks from this day, the last trial of Fynn Smith shall take place. In this trial, a judgement shall be passed, and not before. If no further evidence can be found to support either his guilt or his innocence, then we have a difficult decision to make. Let us pray for guidance from the Father, so we may find the truth of what happened that night.”
All those present inclined their heads momentarily in prayer. Aloisia closed her eyes as she bowed her head. Two weeks still wasn’t a lot. She prayed to the Nine Divines she could find something, anything, to prove Fynn’s innocence and tip the scale in his favour. It didn’t bear thinking about what would happen if she could not.
“Take the prisoner away,” Magistrate Vester bellowed.
Guards seized Fynn’s arms and hauled him to his feet. Helplessness washed over Aloisia as he was dragged off to the prison, his head hanging low, his lank dark hair concealing his face. She watched as they walked him through the gates, watched as he disappeared into the prison and out of sight.
EIGHT
Aloisiastoodatoptheplatform,staringatthegatesastheyclosedonFynn.Howwasshesupposedtoprovehisinnocence?Howwasshemeanttodoitintwoweeks?IfneitherherownaccountnorTristan’sprovidedanycertaintyforthejudiciaries,whatevidencewould?
Magistrate Vester, High Priest Silas, and the Modäiti had already descended from the wooden stage, making their way through the crowd back towards the magistrate’s estate. Aloisia watched them go, vanishing behind another set of gates, not bothering to speak any further with her.
Mavka gripped her shoulder, guiding her down from the platform. Aloisia searched the crowd for Ma but couldn’t spot her. Did she approve of her actions? The further from the platform Mavka led her, the more the reality of the situation became clear. Not only had she put her own reputation on the line, she had also risked Mavka’s. And Tristan’s. True enough, Mavka had stepped forth of her own accord to vouch for her. Aloisia would have to ensure her faith was not misplaced.
If she fell, so too would Mavka.
So too would Tristan.
“You need some rest, child,” Mavka said. “It has been a trying day.”
“Are you serious?” Aloisia whirled on her. “How am I supposed to rest? There are only two weeks in which to prove Fynn’s innocence. I can’t waste a single moment.”
“How do you plan to single-handedly prove his innocence, hmm?” Mavka clutched her shoulders, leaning down to her eye-level. “You are not alone in this, child. You are not the only one who wants the truth. The magistrate himself will search for answers; it is his job. And you heard what he said: innocent until proven guilty. He will not condemn a man when there is no evidence.”
Aloisia shook her head. “I don’t think they believe us. They would so swiftly accuse him of witchcraft when such things have long been gone from this realm. And yet, when reporting what we saw, when it was the same as Fynn’s own account, they were uncertain. They can believe one form of witchcraft, but not another, as long as there was someone to cast it.”
“You cannot see clearly right now, Lis,” Mavka said. “This was only the beginning. If they truly did not believe you, they would have professed as much. From where I was standing, it seemed they fear something long gone from our realm has returned. Your accounts prove as much, as do the markings on Brighde’s body. It was not disbelief in you, child. It was disbelief that it could happen at all, that it may well be happening under their noses.”
“Even so…”
“As you say, it has long been believed magic of all kinds, especially witchcraft and dark magic, has been gone from Teneria. Even the Scholars of the Mages Guild are certain of it. Only the quintessence they practise remains. The judiciaries simply fear what they do not know – something beyond their comprehension.”
“She’s right.” Tristan placed a palm on Aloisia’s back. “They don’t know the truth nor what caused her death. The judiciaries don’t know what we saw. They’re scared. And they must keep an entire town from descending into hysteria at reports of the supernatural and murder at the hands of shadows. It is easier to lay the blame at Fynn’s feet, for now. However, the magistrate seemed reluctant to denounce him. There is hope here.”
Aloisia glanced around those who remained within the square, listened to their hushed tones and nervous words. Perhaps Tristan was right.
“Exactly.” Mavka nodded. “We must hold on to that hope. And you must rest. We have the hunt this evening. It would do no one any good if you were not focused.”
Aloisia took a deep breath, allowing their words to calm her. She trusted both Mavka and Tristan. They would not lead her down the wrong path. Especially not when it concerned Fynn.
Kaja linked an arm with hers, whilst Mavka draped an arm over her shoulders, both guiding her back to their mares.
“I’d come with you,” Tristan said, “but I have duties at the Temple. I’ve already been away too long.”
