A hush fell over the room as the Arbiter announced the charges against Braeden. "Under the law of Emese, you stand accused of the massacre of the village of Tuskar and the subsequent massacre of Kabasa. Those who stand against you accuse you of heresy before the Great Mother and her consort Cathair. We, Her living servants, seek the truth and divine justice in Her name. Do you understand the gravity of these crimes?"
Braeden inclined his head.
The Arbiter stood up from her crystal throne and flung out her arms so that the sunlight set her aglow. "The scales of justice must be balanced. As you have done, so shall be done to you, no more and no less." She dropped her arms to her sides, and in a split second her expression shifted from one of rapture to cold calculation. A shiver skittered down Sam's spine. This was the real Arbiter, the woman who had overrode an emperor's wishes and removed his sister's tongue. "When did you leave Rhea for Thule?"
Sam was close enough to see the muscles in Braeden's throat work. "Eleven years ago, your holiness," he rasped out. He was nervous. Sam couldn't decide if that was good or bad.
The Arbiter pursed her lips. "And why did you leave Rhea?"
He looked down at his feet. "To start over."
The Arbiter's expression was inscrutable. "I see. And you needed to start over because...?"
"I saw the man I called my master for who he was. I wanted to live a life free of his influence."
The Arbiter furrowed her delicate brow. "Master?"
"The man who took me in and raised me," he explained. "I don't know his true name; he was always Master to me."
"I see," said the Arbiter with an enigmatic smile. "And this master held your loyalty?"
"He forced my loyalty when he inked his blood into my skin."
The Arbiter raised an eyebrow at that. "You would have us believe your master knew binding magic?" She brought her hands to her mouth and chortled, a light, tinkling sound. Her laughter didn't reach her eyes, still shrewdly obervant. "That gift is lost with the Warders, buried with the Traitor King."
Braeden shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know the name for his magic, or if it is the same. His blood was a curse, not a gift. It made it so I couldn't disobey an order, and so that he could always find me. So that I didn't know I'd done wrong until I gained some distance from him."
A ripple of low, shocked murmurs spread through the room. Even Nasrin looked uncertain. Something about Braeden's answer had unnerved them. Good, Sam thought.
"Silence!" the Arbiter snapped, her gaze never leaving Braeden. "What you speak of is a perversion of magic long gone from this world. You lie."
"My master lied about many things," Braeden said evenly. "I know only what he told me. His magic was meant to be a tether to sanity. He didn't tell me until later it was also a tether to him."
"Perhaps it is you who lies. Perhaps you have no master."
Braeden's mouth twisted with bitter humor. "No one wishes that were true more than I, your holiness. But have a look, if you will. You can see the mark he left on me. I'd show you myself, but--" He jangled the chains locking his wrists together.
Sam felt a spark of hope. If the Sisters saw Braeden's tattoo, maybe they would understand any wrongs he committed were not his own. Or, if nothing else, maybe they would recognize the symbols carved into his skin and provide some clue as to their origin.
But the Arbiter had her own agendaâand it did not allow for evidence that might lead to an alternative explanation. She brushed his offer aside, charging ahead with her inquisition. "You would lay your sins at this master's feet?"
"No. My sins are my own."
Sam fought back a groan. Braeden was too noble for his own damned good. And he would end up on the executioner's block for all the good it did him.
"Then let us get to the heart of the matter. Do you deny your involvement in the massacre at Tuskar?"
He shook his head slowly. "I cannot."
"And Kabasa?"
He shook his head again.
Sam sagged in her seat. Idiot, idiot man. He'd signed his own death warrant.
"So you confess to your crimes?"
"I cannot."
Sam wasn't the only one who gasped at his response.
The Aribiter pressed her lips into a thin line. "You cannot, or will not?"
"I cannot confess to a crime I don't remember."
"But you were there?" the Aribter pressed. "In Tuskar and then Kabasa, when the massacres occurred?"
Breaden looked thoughtful. "I remember Kabasa. The woman who looked after me was kind. And then I woke up one day and she was dead."
"Because you killed her."
The corner of his mouth lifted sardonically. Only Braeden would find black amusement in an accusation of murder. "I may have," he said. "But I don't remember doing it."
It was a poor defense, and the Aribiter knew it. "A convenient excuse. Fortunately, we have a witness." She clapped her doll-sized hands together. "Nasrin?"
Nasrin rose from the pews and ascended the steps of the altar to stand beside the Arbiter, lounging on the crystal throne. Dread settled into the pit of Sam's belly. She knew what her aunt believed about Braedenâwhat had she actually seen?
The Arbiter smiled a small, smug smile. "What would you share with us, Sister?"
Nasrin cleared her throat. "He killed my father's menâthe general's men. Slit their throats and bellies and bathed in their blood. He separated their heads from their bodies. What was left of them was minced meat. He was covered in their blood, licking his fingers when we found him. I remember that." She shuddered quite convincingly. "He left the corpses in Kabasa in the same state. That was how we knew it was him. We followed the trail of blood right to him. At first he acted like the small, frightened boy he appeared. Either he realized we weren't fooled, or something inside him snapped. I haven't fought so hard for my life before or since. Sister Rosana never fully recovered."
"You believe this man is the same boy you fought with Sister Rosana?" the Arbiter prompted.
"Without question. I would never forget those eyes. He is a monster now as he was then."
Sam looked from Braeden, his mouth bracketed with white lines, to the Arbiter's barely restrained glee. And though it wasn't yet her turn to speakâif she was ever granted the opportunityâSam could stay silent no longer. "You are so sure, aunt? And here I thought you killed the aliah. Either you lied then, or you lie now. Which is it?"
Nasrin went red, her back stiffening. "I did not lie; I erred. I put my blade through his heart and left him for dead. The wound was mortal, one no human could survive. That was my mistakeâthinking of the aliah as human." She glanced at Braeden. "I won't make the same mistake again."
"No, you're making a far worse mistake," Sam said between gritted teeth. "You don't understand the true enemy or of what he is capable. Thule is at war, did you know? The Paladins have been corrupted. The man who leads them has forged an allegiance with demons, uses them to do his dirty deeds. You're a fool if you think Rhea is safe from him."
There was a moment of perfect silence, and then the Arbiter began to laugh. "What an imagination your niece has," she said to Nasrin. She turned to Sam with laughter on her lips, but her eyes were hard and glittering. "Have you ever encountered a demon?
"Besides the one you brought with you," her aunt muttered darkly.
Sam stood up, raising her chin with a defiant glare. "I have. More than I can count."
"Then you know they're stupid, violent creatures driven by the basest of instincts. They can't be reasoned with. How can anyone make an ally of them when the concept of an alliance is beyond them? It's against their very nature."
"I don't know," said Sam. "I don't know how, but he can control them."
The Arbiter's mouth curved into an almost-sneer. "Like Braeden's master could control him?"
"Exactly like," Sam said stubbornly, knowing her words fell on deaf ears. She could try explaining that Braeden's master and the High Commander were one in the same, but why should they believe her?
The Arbiter's smile widened. "Let us pretend that your inane story is fact. Then even you must agree keeping the aliah alive poses too great a risk."
"You're wrong."
"Am I? This supposed enemy can control him; we can't."
"Braeden can help us. He has helped us."
"And if the he is turned against us? What then?"
"He won't," Sam insisted, ignoring the niggling doubts she'd buried far beneath the skin. She had to believe in Braeden. Who would, if she didn't?
"But we must consider all possibilities, mustn't we? Tell me, Samantha of Haywood, would you be able to kill him if need be?"
She wanted to be able to say yes, knew a better, less-selfish woman would. But she'd sworn a blood oath before the Gods to only speak the truth, and the truth was she wasn't sure she could. "I don't know," she said hoarsely. With a steadier voice, she added, "But it won't come to that."
"How do you know?" Nasrin asked, her gaze soft and sad. "Why should we believe you?"
"Because I love him!" Sam shouted. "And he loves me. He would rather die than hurt me, as I would rather die than hurt him!"
The silence following her declaration was deafening.
Nasrin dropped her gaze to the altar floor. "Your holiness, I move to strike Samantha of Haywood as a witness in this trial, on the condition of her emotional bias."
Sam gaped at her aunt in horror. "You can't do that. I'm his only witness."
"My dear child, she is right," said the Arbiter, iron under the sweet peel of her voice. "Your testimony is irrevocably compromised by your...affection for the defendant. We require an impartial witness."
The Arbiter planned this outcome, Sam thought. All along the woman had been baiting her, waiting for her to fall into her clever trap. Sam had been made into a fool. She could hear the Sisters' incredulous whispers, and worse, saw their pitying stares. She knew what they saw: a silly, infatuated girl.
The Arbiter's copper-brown eyes gleamed. "We will appoint the defendant another witness, as the Mother requires. Sisters, who among you will volunteer?"
"This is unfair!" Sam burst out. Her glare swept over the solarium. "You speak of biasâevery woman in this room decided Braeden was guilty before the trial ever started!" Her nails dug into her palms, but she could no longer contain her fury. She whirled to face the Arbiter. "You claim to serve Emese, but from what I can see, you serve only yourself. You don't want justice; you want an excuse to dole out punishment. Why? Are you so uncertain of your position that you must find wickedness in every man you try? Or is it that you enjoy hurting people?"
"Sam," Braeden murmured softly, and she knew she'd gone too far.
"You are overwrought," the Arbiter said tightly, her gaze murderous. "Sister Parvana, please escort her to her room and keep her there until she can be calm and rational."
"What?" cried Sam, lunging toward the altar. Two strong hands grabbed her from behind to hold her back. She let her body go limp, and as soon as she felt her captor relax, she broke free.
She made it one more step before she was restrained again. "Stop struggling," a familiar voice said in her ear. Kameko. "My mother cannot protect you from the Aribiter's wrath. Go quietly with Sister Parvana, or you'll wind up in chains beside your lover." She gave Sam's arm a squeeze. "I will find you later, cousin. I promise."
Sam bowed her head, defeated. Kameko was right; Braeden's trial was lost. It had been lost from the beginning. Now, because she couldn't keep her temper, she would be locked in her room like a spoiled child.
And Braeden would die alone.
A/N: hope you enjoyed! Please vote if you liked it, and share your thoughts in the comments!