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Ibidio’s response sounded carefully prepared. He had wanted to throw Ibidio off the track with a counteraccusation, but though Ibidio was well into maturity, she evidently still had a sharp wit. Perhaps he should keep to the subject at hand.
“We know you cared for your mate. There’s no thought that you have been involved,” Ibidio said. “But as her mother and therefore the most aggrieved, I and the Imperial Line want justice for Halaflora.”
The Copper drew himself up. He realized that in only having three sound limbs he’d never be as impressive as others, but he could still raise his neck high. “Had she been murdered, I would have seen to it, and no witnesses or traditions or circumstances would have availed the guilty party. But it was an accident. She believed herself with eggs and ate ravenously. But her throat muscles weren’t up to her desire—she choked to death. I felt the bone in her throat myself.”
“Perhaps it was stuffed down there,” LaDibar said.
“Shadowcatch, our Ankelene has formed a theory. I would like to see it tested. Tear down one of those banners, break its staff and see if you can stuff it down his throat.”
Shadowcatch reared up, removed a tattered banner from its bracket. One of the Griffaran Guard cackled in excitement.
“My Tyr, I meant no offense,” LaDibar said.
“Accusing my mate of murder will have that effect on me, LaDibar.”
“Threats won’t save Nilrasha, my Tyr,” Ibidio said. “I demand that my witnesses be heard and judged.”
“Produce them.”
“I’d rather spare you and Nilrasha the agony and embarrassment. I offer an alternative,” Ibidio said. “Have Nilrasha fully resign the office of Queen. She may remain where she is, officially in exile. She’s unable to carry out her duties, anyway; your sister’s attempts to be Queen-Consort prove it.”
Why would Ibidio settle for Nilrasha resigning as Queen?
“Produce your witnesses,” the Copper said. “I should like to hear what they say.”
“You’re in no position to judge the believability of our witnesses.”
“But I’m Tyr. I’ve always determined—”
“He should step aside,” Wistala said. “Let another question your witnesses. In Hypatia, there are men who do nothing but hear evidence and decide cases.”
“Human customs need hardly concern us,” NoSohoth said.
“Very well, if you object to me questioning them, perhaps NoSohoth would be willing to perform,” the Copper said.
They settled on a date to hear the witnesses two days hence in the old dueling pit, now being called the Voicehall. The name for it came from the new tradition that the Tyr listened to the concerns of any dragon and held questionings of important messengers and decided the fates of those accused of crimes.
While finishing perfectly ordinary business the next day, NoSohoth lingered in the passageway leading off from the Audience Chamber.
“Are you concerned about the questioning, NoSohoth?” the Copper asked.
NoSohoth raised a wing to shield their words from the curtains dividing the passageway from the Audience Chamber. “My Tyr, I would like nothing better than to see this whole matter go away. You have more important affairs to oversee. I hate to see my Tyr enmeshed in this sort of scab picking.”
“I’ll rely on you to judge fairly.”
“My Tyr, if you would allow a faithful old servant to speak his mind for a moment.”
“Yes?”
“Ever since your mate was injured, you’ve been away a great deal, and these old ears, tongue, and nostrils have been filled with managing problems as best as I can until you return to validate my decisions.”
“I’m sorry, NoSohoth. You’re absolutely right.”
“I’ve been serving the Imperial Line through all four Tyrs and before, when I stood guard atop the Imperial Rock during the civil wars. I am weary and need a rest, my Tyr. I was thinking of retiring to become a Protector and spend my remaining seasons sunning myself in the Upper World.”
“Oh, of course. I should hate to lose your services. Perhaps Anaea, it’s sunny there and there’s only two busy times, at planting and harvest.”
“I was thinking Hypatia, my Tyr. I understand the climate in the capital city is very mild.”
