“Stop enjoying this! I haven’t even made a will.” He radiated dismay.
Ah, divine retribution. Sarai grinned. “You can start on the wagon ride into town.”
The public square in Komis barely held a finger’s width of space for anyone else to squeeze in. This trial was less a determination of guilt than it was a public show of support and interest in the north and their suffering.
“Bring in the accused,” Kadra ordered smoothly.
The northern crowd quieted. Just as many were there to see him as they were for the trial. Cassandane had brought together every Bridger inthe country to send up lightning magi to scorch extant boil beetle swarms, which had pulled some goodwill from many a northerner. And the prospect of the north getting to claim the south’s most infamous Tetrarch and Magus Supreme as the only decent member of Clan Kader? Pure gold.
Vigiles dragged in the five Guildmasters and tossed them on their knees by the stake in the ground. Ioratius of the Grains Guild, Etilia of the Wine and Spirits Guild, Albanus of the Stones Guild, whose glower said that he still hadn’t forgiven her for the loss of his six-thousand-aurei vase, Septimus of the Clay Guild, and the new Metals Guildmaster she hadn’t met. They glowered, eyes like burning coals, their previous finery reduced to stained tunics and stringy hair. Cheers rose from the crowd.
Kadra addressed their ringleader. “Guildmaster Ioratius and company, you stand accused of sedition.” He passed Cassandane the scroll on which to write her judgment. “How do you plead?”
Struggling with his manacles, Ioratius gave him an incredulous look. “Not guilty,” he spat, along with the rest. “Good business is no crime.”
A dangerous gleam flared in Kadra’s eyes, and Sarai leaned back in her seat, watching him quietly eviscerate every one of them for worsening the north’s food and resource shortages. The swell of the crowd had never been louder by the time he was through.
“Well, I don’t think your ‘not guilty’ plea will change much here.” Cassandane’s reed-pen arrowed across the parchment as she wrote. She set it down, looking tired. “We heard your voices time and time again in Delran Tower to no effect. We weren’t listening tothem, and they paid for it.” She pointed at the crowd. “The Guildmasters are hereby found guilty. They’re sentenced to whichever one of the Dark Elsar’s hells the Magus Supreme decides to deliver them to, which truly I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies.” She turned to him. “Kadra?”
He caught Sarai’s eye and turned to the audience. An unholy bloodlust glittered in his eyes as he rose from his seat. “They’re yours.”
Oh dear.
Horror dawned in the Guildmasters’ eyes as the vigiles unbound the group and kicked through the group into the crowd. Not one to disdain a show of blood, Kadra’s lips quirked.
Furious hundreds advanced on the Guildmasters like a swarm of boil beetles. Blood sprayed high in the air as the first limb was ripped off. Feet met their faces. The russet earth grew stained and stank of iron and bodily fluids as agonized pleas filled the air and ended.
Kadra’s furrowed brow said that he thought their justice was too swift.
But then again, she thought, watching the northerners turn some of Ur Dinyé’s most prominent businessfolk to meat.They waited a long time for it.
He was no stranger to rebuilding.
Kadra strode down the stairs into the holding cells below his vigile station. The next couple of days had seen a flurry of activity as he and the Tetrarchy capitalized on their newfound goodwill to anchor their position in the north and south. Visits were made to northern towns, apologies offered, and ties strengthened. Cassandane had made arrangements for the Aequitas’s rebuilding.
People believed what they believed.
Some whispered that they had known a god. Others called it a disease or mass hallucination. Telmar and Cato tirelessly worked to educate the latter. Those who avoided the truth were far too susceptible to manipulation.
Gaius ran into him on the way up. “Tetrarch Kadra, I just checked on him. Do you know, he apologized for the Aequitas and getting me injured?” He looked bewildered. “Gods, the faces people possess.”
Indeed. Thanking him, Kadra proceeded. His feet hit the bottommost step. Cells passed him in succession before he found the one he sought, far from the other arraigned prisoners awaiting the mines. His brother had requested it.
He approached the bars. Noceo lifted his head and nodded. “You came.”
“Hmm.” Kadra withdrew a brass key and unlocked the cell to sit beside the other man.
Noceo’s mouth twisted bitterly. “My trial is that soon, is it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“A week. Cassandane expedited it under guise of public interest, but I think she’s eager to send you off to the mines.” Kadra considered Noceo’s drawn features. “I won’t be there.”
“To prevent accusations of bias.” Noceo laughed weakly. “Though it sounds like that’s already happened. My crimes merit execution under the Corpus, don’t they?”
“Death is simple. Living is the trial.”
