And what? Renounced my paladincy and my life?
And not died!
“Shall we drink then, honored paladin?” Sir Adalbrand asked, his voice cutting through that of my accuser.
“Choose your cup.” Sir Kodelai’s words rang like a funeral bell.
Adalbrand reached for the closest one and then Kodelai reached for the remaining vessel.
They lifted them and Adalbrand examined his, tilting it around so he could look at every side and edge, peering into it, and then looking at the bottom.
I felt a bead of sweat forming on my brow. One could hardly blame me for it. They were about to drink to my health — or lack of it.
I’ll admit to some curiosity. I’ve never been present for a judgment like this and certainly never one preemptively challenged. I’ve heard so many rumors but I could hardly credit most of them. It will be fascinating to finally see …
Oh yes, wildly exciting to offer my life for a scrap of knowledge.
But you know you are not guilty.
But did the God know that? Was it even he who judged or was there really poison in that cup?
Maybe they’ll poison your saint after all.
Look, it’s not easy to be blasé in the face of possible death. Especially not when one is trussed up like a feast-day goat. And particularly not when the God failed to show up the first time you asked. Just like he had failed to come in his glory to call me to the paladincy. I was not his favored worshipper.
Adalbrand finished examining the cup and cleared his throat. Sir Kodelai laughed.
“It’s not a trick. It’s not a ruse. This is how the God will judge.”
There was a shuffling sound. The others were — unconsciously — leaning in closer. The High Saint, so terrified yesterday by the corpse of the Seer, leaned so far forward now that he had stepped in the edge of her puddle of blood. I swallowed down my gorge at the sight of it. He hardly seemed to notice. Was this the penalty then, for confessing murder to the door? Were we inured to horror, fascinated by death, coldhearted in the face of pain?
You don’t seem to be.
Adalbrand took in a long breath.
“Do you wish to take back your challenge?” Sir Kodelai asked gently. “There is still time. Two need not die today.” He gestured toward me, though his eyes did not meet mine. He already saw me as disposable. “She’s clearly guilty. That crow of a woman. That mongrel of a paladin.” His voice was so kind I almost missed how deeply he was insulting me. “Their whole aspect is as valuable as leaves in the autumn. They tumble in the wind, they drift from place to place. They bring nothing but portents with them and leave nothing behind them. They beg and borrow and never repay. What have they ever built? Where are they when they’re needed? They cannot stick in one place. They’re a blemish on the name of holy paladin. If they cast out a demon, perhaps that is of some utility, but who is to say they’ve even done that? It’s only their own lips that confirm it. And this one is younger than she should be. I do not believe she is a paladin at all. See how her sword is too large for her, though she wields it well? See how she does not offer prayers unless compelled, how she scowls when we sing, how she drew on me — me — when I challenged you? These are the things revealed to me last night as I knelt in prayer. We have among us an imposter. We have among us a doppelganger. She is not who she says she is, and even if she were, it is her knife that I found here, and surely she is most likely to have killed the Seer.”
I like this one. I’ll possess him next if I get the chance. This is a heart that can be twisted as you so stubbornly refuse to be, little treat. Imagine what I could set loose in the name of the God if I held the reins of this man?
Was he sure the man wasn’t already possessed?
Oh, it doesn’t take the demonic to make a heart glory in evil … but it helps.
“Why would she want to kill our sister paladin?” Adalbrand asked calmly. He didn’t even seem upset; he spun the cup between his fingers as if toying with it. His eyes were no longer on the cup, though. They flicked from paladin to paladin, weighing, assessing.
“She saw how you went into the Seer’s tent that first night. We all did. And then she went into your tent after the Seer was killed. She has designs on you, paladin. You’re a well set-up man. I’m sure you’ve had offers before.”
See? I keep telling you …
The cup stopped moving. Adalbrand’s voice was like chipped ice.
“We’re a celibate order, Hand. Do you accuse me of breaking my vows?”
Sir Kodelai smirked. “Has anyone told her that? Jealousy is a powerful motivator.”
“The Vagabond and I had only just met when the Seer was killed. How quickly do you think she formed this supposed attachment? How quickly do you think I succumbed, first to the elderly Seer and then to this young paladin? These are vile claims.”
“Who else had a motive? None of us. It was only her. Of course she wants you. She’s a beggar. A woman destitute. And you fed her on kindness. You feed her still.”
