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‘Gathered with me in judgement I have the four archons of the faith. Archon Nevis, to bring the gravity of the gerant.’ The fat man bowed his head, deep-set eyes glittering in a pale face. His girth aside, he didn’t seem a particularly large man to Nona, not a blood-gerant for sure. ‘Archon Anasta, to bring the swiftness and precision of the hunska.’ The old woman nodded, the day’s light gleaming across the bald dark dome of her skull, lone earring set to swinging. ‘Archon Philo, to bring the mystery and insight of the marjal.’ The tall man made no sign of having heard, save perhaps in a deepening of the sadness on his narrow face. ‘Archon Kratton, to bring the direction and balance of the quantal.’ The last archon dipped his head, the scars across the left side of his face livid in the morning sun slanting in from narrow windows. He clenched his fists before him. Nona imagined those hands might crush rocks, leaving only powder.

The high priest bowed to each archon in turn then returned his gaze to the prisoners. ‘I expect this to be a swift trial. The facts are indisputable, the sentences prescribed by precedent, and it is hard to imagine that there can be any defence. We will listen to Abbess Glass’s apology and consider what measure of mercy may be open to us in this case.

‘The facts are these. Raymel Tacsis, son of one of the realm’s highest families, born of the line of emperors, given his name in the Ancestor’s holy cathedral, was mortally wounded by Nona Reeve—’ Nona opened her mouth to protest that she wanted nothing of Partnis Reeve, but the abbess shushed her, her look so fierce that Nona bit her tongue. ‘—said individual then being found guilty of murder and sentenced to hang at the emperor’s pleasure in Harriton prison.

‘Abbess Glass of Sweet Mercy Convent secured the release of the criminal into her care under false pretences and subsequently brought her to the convent where, with indecent haste, she was inducted as a novice.

‘The matter now sits under church law, which on matters of murder and attempted murder is no more forgiving than the emperor’s commandments in such regards. Our duty is clear. Firstly, we must sentence Novice Nona to death for her crime against Raymel Tacsis. Secondly, we must impose sentence upon Abbess Glass for gross interference with secular affairs of state – a transgression for which an example must be set before both the church and lay populations. Failure to hand out a severe sentence will cause unrest, both among the populace and within the emperor’s own court. The church cannot afford to be seen as thinking itself above the civil law.

‘Unless there are any other opinions at this stage …’ he glanced at the archons to either side, ‘… I will call upon Abbess Glass to make her apologies and appeal for clemency.’

All eyes turned towards the abbess, who took a step forward, now resting herself against the prisoners’ wooden enclosure. ‘Have you asked yourself why I would take a child from the hangman, Jacob?’

The high priest coughed into his hand and cleared his throat. ‘You will address me by my title, Abbess Glass. There are no ties of friendship here. Only the law.’ Seated, his robes rose about him, setting his head afloat on a sea of purple and gold. ‘We understand weakness, abbess: all of us are human. We lack the perfection of the Ancestor. A mother’s instinct perhaps overwhelmed you. It is not uncommon in women of a certain age, but you chose poorly when picking this one …’ he waved a hand towards Nona, ‘… to adopt.’

Abbess Glass straightened her back against the yoke’s weight and managed a wry smile. ‘I have many faults, high priest, too many to try to conceal. But even my enemies have yet to accuse me of owning a soft heart. I believe the word most often used against me is “cunning”. So it pains me to see you leap so swiftly to the conclusion that I stand before you yoked by my own stupidity.’

Nona noticed a smile twitch on the scarred lips of Archon Kratton on the far right, and a broader one spread on the wet lips of Archon Nevis on the far left.

‘Trials seek the truth, high priest. Something that singularly failed to happen during the conviction of the child beside me. Perhaps you might ask me why I acted as I did before you demand an apology for those actions? Certainly the men who convicted this small girl of killing a famed gerant ring-fighter should have asked that question before sentencing both her and the girl Saida Reeve to death.’

‘Saida didn’t do anything!’ Nona blurted the words, afraid that the abbess might try to lay Raymel’s injuries at Saida’s feet.

‘Hush, Nona,’ the abbess said in a low voice. ‘You’ll drown yourself with that mouth of yours.’

The high priest rose from his chair, staff in hand. ‘A lack of humility will do you no favours here, Abbess Glass—’

‘Even so, I would like to hear the why.’ Archon Kratton spoke with a tremor in his voice as if some powerful vibration were running through him. It struck Nona then that the high priest was less of a king than he might appear, and the archons were not merely part of his show.

Abbess Glass inclined her head towards the archon. ‘I heard about Nona’s case while in Verity to negotiate the induction of the Jotsis girl. The Argatha prophecy has considerable influence among the populace, and whatever weight we may or may not place behind the words it is certainly true that the belief of the common man has given the prophecy a power of its own. It could, for example, quite easily see any suspected two-blood killed or kidnapped as part of empire politicking.

‘I mention the prophecy because it’s an example of words gaining power because we let them. Two other words that have gained too much power because we let them are Thuran Tacsis. High Priest Jacob asked me if I really knew who Thuran Tacsis is? Well I know that he is a man whose eldest son has killed at least five young girls in acts of cruelty, on occasion as a result of his temper, and on occasion for his own sadistic pleasure, and has in each case been allowed to walk free without even an attempt at arrest or prosecution. Tacsis money has purchased the common law. Even in the higher courts where others of the Sis and merchant classes might seek justice, Tacsis gold often speaks loudest. Louder indeed than any of those charged with the duty to enforce the statutes set down by our ancestors.

‘So, curious as to how a small girl could fell a gerant ring-fighter, I enquired further. I found many whose reports of the event, at least in private, ran quite differently to those of the “witnesses” produced to support the death sentence imposed on Nona and Saida Reeve. It is certainly true that Nona inflicted the injuries on Raymel Tacsis. She did not, however, assault him by surprise and from behind but did so to defend her friend, also a small girl, from his attacks, having first warned him to desist.

‘In Nona we have a rare talent, the purest hunska I’ve seen in years, born with an instinct for battle and to defend the weak. A girl, innocent in youth, in whom the faith’s seed will find fertile ground. Sweet Mercy scours the empire for girls such as these … was I to let her be sacrificed to the unhealthy appetites of a murderer too rich to pay for his crimes?

‘The Ancestor directs us to follow the tenets of our faith and the church is our armour. I saw the common law fail and I have replaced it with the church law. We here, in this hall, are bound by duty and by faith to show that as sons and daughters of the Ancestor we cannot be bought and sold. Ancestral law is gold to the base metal of common law. We lead where others fall. I saved a child who will serve the Ancestor well, but more than that I struck a blow for the ideals that are written in the Ancestor’s own book. If we return Nona to this false justice that blow of mine will not strike against corruption but against the foundations of the church itself.’

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