Chapter XII

“You know, you could delay this trial until after the wedding,” said Sarahi.

Aryn shook her head, “Countess Yael has already been taken from her home on mere accusations, no evidence. The last thing I need is to drag this out.”

“Still,” Sarahi toyed with her braid in one hand, “With the royal wedding coming up we have guests from Uvino and from all over Arx here in the capital. Many of them will want to see the trial, and they'll be judging you on how you judge Countess Yael, furthermore the foreigners will be judging Arx by her crimes.”

“If that's the case, wouldn't it make more sense to delay the wedding?” Aryn asked, hopeful.

“Not at this point. Somewhere close to half of the guests are already here, many of them spent a lot of money to be here.”

“Then I suppose I'll just have to bear their judgment,” Aryn said.

Lining either side of the courtroom were the spectator boxes, where everyone wishing to see the trial sat, and above them were the balconies, where sat those who could afford the more expensive seating. Somewhere, sitting amongst those spectators, were the witnesses who were to bring forth their evidence, they'd confirmed their presence in the city again by letter, though Aryn had yet to meet any of them. The accused was chained to a small, waist-high box before the Queen's seat. It was customary for a member of the clergy to oversee trials like this, and in this case Arch-Bishop Livana was present, seated next to where Aryn would be sitting.

As Aryn entered the courtroom Milo said, “All rise for her majesty.”

Once Aryn took her seat the spectators took theirs as well. Aryn turned to Arch-Bishop Livana and said, “Begin the prayer.”

All in the court bowed their heads, though the bodyguards did not close their eyes. Arch-Bishop Livana clasped her hands together, “Almighty God who watches over us all, please help us to discern the true innocence or guilt of the accused, that justice may be done. May we here and always fulfill and uphold your Law, magnificent one. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone in the court repeated.

“Countess Yael of Laherig,” Aryn began, “You stand accused of the murders of many small children, girls in your county. Before evidence is presented against you we would like to hear what you have to say in your defense.”

“Not only am I innocent of all charges brought against me, but this very trial is a violation of my rights. In the primitive ages long ago kings and queens could accuse any noble they did not like of any crime they wished and take their land. The law was changed so that no king or queen had the power to accuse without evidence. This trial is a sham!”

There was a murmur through the crowd, reminding Queen Aryn that she was on trial as much as Countess Yael was. She needed to quell the suspicions against her, keep up appearances for the strangers. “As I said before, if you are found innocent you will be released, and compensated for your time and inconvenience. If you are guilty, however, you will be dealt with harshly. The murder of children cannot be tolerated! Will the first witness please step forward?”

Amidst the people in the stands stood a young man, in his early twenties, with his hair pulled back in a pony-tail and a large sack slung around his shoulder. He sighed deeply as he pushed passed the other people in the stands. Aryn saw the look of recognition on Yael's face as the young man made his way to the stand.

“State your name,” Aryn said.

“My name is Serge, your majesty. I am a servant in the Countess' castle.”

“What is your testimony?”

“A few months ago people started coming to the castle reporting that their children were missing. Always daughters. They usually came in groups, which meant that these weren't isolated incidents; someone was kidnapping girls en masse. The countess told them that she would look into the matter, and did indeed send soldiers to the towns where these kidnappings had happened that they might investigate. Months went by, and no one turned up any evidence.

“One day I was sent down to the dungeons to lay down rat traps. Some of the rats in the dungeons had been getting into the kitchens upstairs, filthy vermin. I'd been down there only a few times before, and never noticed that one of the walls was, well...false. What seemed to be bricks were cut in half, vertically, and plastered to a door in the back of one of the cells, made to look like part of the wall. Looking at the bars of the cell, I realized that it had been recently built; the bars had almost no rust or mildew.

“Now, obviously, the cell was locked, so I needed the key to get in. I borrowed it, if you will, from one of the jailors when he was sleeping off a drink, unlocked the cell, and opened the door on the other side. What I saw in there...it still haunts me, but I've managed to gather up the courage today to present you just a small sample of what I found.” Serge turned over the bag and shook it out onto the floor. Four jawless human skulls, much smaller than adult skulls, fell out of the bag, along with the tattered remains of what appeared to be a child's dress. The spectators gasped, Aryn cringed, even Serge couldn't bring himself to look at the skulls for long. Yael's gaze was fixed on Serge, with a rage in her eyes that made Milo wonder if she was about to try to break her chains and attack him.

“You're a liar!” Yael screamed. “Your testimony is a lie! I had nothing to do with these skulls! I never murdered anyone! How much did the Queen pay you to say this? The Queen is the real killer! This is all a farce!”

“Silence!” Aryn shouted, banging her gavel. Looking around at the crowd she could see how split they were on this issue. Some shook their heads at Yael, obviously believing her to be guilty and saying anything to cover up her crimes; others were giving Aryn accusing or quizzical looks, wondering if maybe she truly had bribed Serge. “If you make your case, Countess, you will make it calmly and in a civilized manner. We are not savages here. Sirrah Serge, do you have anything more you wish to say?”

“Yes, your majesty. Finding this secret room full of the skulls was only the beginning of my investigation. In time I found that several other people living in the castle had discovered similar evidence of the countess' crimes. These other witnesses are here today.” With that Serge bowed to the Queen and returned to his seat.

“Before we hear from these other witnesses against the accused I would like to hear from a witness willing to speak on her behalf,” said Aryn. “Is there anyone here who will speak for her?”

“I would like to speak on her behalf,” said an elderly woman in the crowd. As this woman came to the stand Yael looked a little relieved.

“State your name.”

“My name is Neith,” said the old woman, “I was Yael's...the countess' wet-nurse. I've known her for her whole life.”

“Very well, Neith, what is your testimony?”

“As I said, your grace, I've known the Countess her whole life. She has a gentle soul, and a thirst for justice. Maybe Serge really did find a room full of skulls, and maybe someone in the castle is killing those girls, but it couldn't possibly be my Yael.” Neith looked over at Yael with a sad smile. “She's not a murderer, it's impossible! She's even shown great mercy toward her enemies. When a small group of men were found plotting against her she had them banished to Shadia, under pain of death, rather than executed. Her advisers begged her to reconsider this decision, to have them executed in order to keep the peace, but she wouldn't do it. Does someone with that much mercy in her heart truly sound like someone who'd kill little girls?”

Aryn smiled at the old woman, “You've made a good case for her character. If insufficient evidence is presented to prove her guilt I would be happy to work with the Countess to root out the real killer. Is there anything else you would like to say?”

“No, your grace.”

“You may step down.” Once the elderly woman had taken her seat again, Aryn called out, “Are there any other witnesses against the accused?”

“I will speak, your grace,” said a middle-aged woman in the crowd. She had her hair pulled back into a bun and was dressed formally for the occasion. Yael shook her head in disbelief as this woman took the stand.

“State your name.”

“My name is Kean. I am a scholar working in the countess' castle, typically I work in the library.”

“And what is your testimony?”

“Some years ago I was present when a physician examined the Countess and determined that she was infertile. She wanted to keep it secret, but somehow her betrothed, young Lord Shiloh, discovered this and canceled the marriage. Her Excellency was crushed. Then, about a year later, the Countess began purchasing books from the city-states in the West, books on every religion practiced there. One particular book became the focus of her obsession.” Kean produced a small, leather-bound book from the pocket of her robe. “A book about the cult of the Mother and Father. Often I saw her reading this book in the library, sometimes for hours on end. So much time spent on such a short book? I knew she must have been reading it over and over, something seemed so odd about this, I needed to investigate. So one time, when she was not in the library, I went through the book myself. When you tend a library you find yourself picking up on subtle clues that a particular part of a book has been read over and over again; slight tears on the edges, folds in the pages, oils from one's fingers staining the text. The part that the Countess was reading over and over had to do with the history of the cult of the Father and Mother. In particular it concerned...” Kean glanced at Yael, who was staring at her wide-eyed, with a look of utter betrayal on her face, shaking her head, “An incident of mass human sacrifice.” There were gasps of shock and murmurs throughout the crowd, as if none of these people coming to the trial of an accused child-murderer expected to hear anything disturbing, but Kean continued, “A city where the Father and Mother were worshiped was struck by famine. The people of the city gathered together all of their elderly and sacrificed them. Shortly thereafter the famine ended. You see, the Father, in this religion, is a force of death and the Mother is a force of life. In order for there to be life there must be death, they say. Now, I didn't think too much of it, felt it maybe a morbid curiosity at the most, until Serge revealed to me the room with the skulls. My guess is that the Countess was so heart-broken by not being able to have children, and by her betrothed leaving her, that she was seeking a magical means to remedy her infertility.”

“It was just curiosity!” Yael shouted, “I read that passage over and over because I couldn't believe people would actually do something so horrible, or that any manner of gods would reward them for such!”

“Silence!” Aryn yelled back, banging her gavel, “I told you, if you are to speak in your own defense you are to do so calmly! Sirrah Kean, do you have anything more to say?”

“No, your grace.”

“You may step down. Are there any more witnesses who would like to speak on behalf of the accused?” There was silence throughout the crowd. Both Aryn and Yael scanned the crowd to try to find anyone who looked like they might be willing to testify but were hesitating. Yael's eyes caught several people she knew, and she gave each of them individually a long, pleading stare, as if trying to silently tell them to testify for her, but no one stepped forward. “Very well, is there anyone else who would like to testify against the accused?” Aryn asked.

“I will testify, your majesty,” said a young man with a strong jaw and deep voice in the crowd. Judging by the look of him as he made his way to the stand he had seen rough days. His face had multiple scars, mostly from blades, and his left arm was locked in a position which held his hand over his solar-plexus, indicating that he was used to holding a heavy shield.

“State your name.”

“Hardy, your grace. I am a soldier, a guard in the Countess' castle.”

“And what is your testimony.”

“Over the course of my time working for the Countess I have seen and heard many strange things, things I didn't understand at the time, but that make sense now. A month ago, I was on patrol late at night and I heard voices coming from the Countess' bedroom. One was the Countess' voice, the other the voice of a little girl.”

“Lies,” Yael said. She was interrupting, but no longer shouting about it. “I never took children into my room.”

“This happened on more than one occasion,” continued Hardy. “Yet each time I asked any of the other guards the next morning whom the Countess was seeing in her room no one seemed to know anything about it.”

“Because it's a lie.”

Hardy ignored her and continued, “Then one time, when I was on patrol, I heard groaning coming from the Countess' bath-chamber. I didn't realize that she was not in there and thought perhaps she'd slipped and hurt herself, or perhaps was under attack. The door was locked, so I kicked it in and rushed in with my sword drawn, only to see one of her servants scrubbing the bathtub, which was stained with blood. Mind you, this was not just a little blood. It could not be that the Countess had simply accidentally cut herself and the blood had stained the tub, no the tub had to have been FILLED with blood. Furthermore, I saw on the wall two symbols, drawn with blood. I didn't recognize them at first, but when Serge began his investigation and began putting these pieces together, and I spoke with Kean, I discovered that these symbols were the holy sigils of the Father and the Mother.”

“You're a liar!” Yael said again. Her tone was sharp, but she still did not raise her voice.

“The servant who was cleaning the tub, is she here to testify?” Aryn asked.

“No, your grace,” said Hardy, “She was discovered in the larder a few days later, apparently having hanged herself.”

“It's all lies!” Yael repeated. “Hardy, I will see that you hanged for this! Or stoned! How dare you lie to her majesty?”

“Sir Hardy...”

“I'm not a knight, your grace. No ‘sir.’”

“Very well, Sirrah Hardy, do you have anything else to add to your testimony?”

“Plenty more, your grace. On several occasions, when I have been on duty, I have seen other members of the Countess' guard carrying large burlap sacks into the dungeons. When I questioned them they told me that the burlap sacks held a new prisoner, a poacher or a thief. Yet, whenever I checked the dungeons for new prisoners I found no one. When I asked them about it they said that the Countess had ordered them to keep the matter quiet, so I went to the Countess.”

“Liar!”

“She told me that she was entitled to her secrets, and such was not for me to know.”

“LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!” Countess Yael screamed, stomping her feet and straining against her chains in an attempt to get to Hardy.

“Silence!” Aryn shouted again, banging her gavel until it had all but broken.

Hardy continued, “You see, your grace, it all adds up. Based on what Serge and Kean learned it would seem that the kidnapped girls are taken to her room, she prepares them for the sacrifice, she sacrifices them and bathes in their blood, and then the bodies are disposed of in that secret room in the dungeons.”

“It's not true! None of it! He's a fecking liar!” Countess Yael flailed against her chains again, fuming and raging, snarling and growling. Witnesses telling the story later would describe her as having turned from a woman into a rabid beast.

“Restrain yourself!” Aryn yelled. “Sirrah Hardy, is there anything else?”

“No, your grace.”

“Very well. Is there anyone else who would speak on behalf of the accused? Anyone at all?” There was no answer from the crowd. “Anyone? Please, don't be shy. If you have evidence that can save this woman please step forward, the evidence against her is overwhelming so far.” Aryn honestly hoped that at least one more witness would step forward on the Countess' behalf. She wanted to truly know whether or not Yael was guilty. Truthfully, she'd prefer to have it proven that the Countess was innocent so that she could let her go and then work with the Countess to find the real killer, but the evidence was too strong against her. “ By our traditions, credible witnesses against you must outnumber credible witnesses in your favor by two. Physical evidence, such as human skulls, is given even more weight. Countess Yael of Laherig. Is there anything you would like to say...to CALMLY say in your defense?”

Yael looked up at Aryn, murder in her eyes, and then turned to the crowd, “The Queen’s a lying harlot! This is a conspiracy! The Queen knows that since I have no children I have no heirs to my land. She seeks to seize my land and my fortune, and so she has violated my rights, brought me here, paid these people to deliver their false testimonies, and either paid off or threatened anyone who would speak on my behalf! Never before have I heard so many great falsehoods purported as truth! Never in my life! The Queen is greedy, and a liar, and she'll be after your lands next!” Yael pointed to each of the lords and ladies in the audience, few as they were. “Mark me! The Queen will not stop here! She’ll kill anyone she has to in order to get what she wants!”

“We will briefly adjourn,” said Aryn, “While I deliberate on the evidence presented.” Aryn left the courtroom and adjourned to a backroom with her mother, Milo, and her advisers.

“The evidence is pretty strong against her,” Milo said, “Three different people, all working in her castle, all testified against her. Two even brought physical proof.”

“The strongest defenses in her favor are her wet-nurse vouching for her character and her accusation that this whole matter is a conspiracy,” said Aryn. “And I'm pretty sure I didn't bribe anyone or threaten anyone, so we can rule that out.”

“It will look like you did, though,” said Sarahi.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, what Yael did was very clever. Rather than bringing any solid evidence of her innocence, because she knew there wasn’t any, she pointed out that her very arrest was against the laws of Arx, and even made reference to the reason why. Once everyone was already thinking about King Etan, the king from long ago who accused lords of crimes so that he could seize their property, she then put forth the defense that all of the evidence was false and that you were setting her up. Now if you convict her the nobles will fear that maybe she was right, that you really were just after her land and money.”

“I'll appoint someone else to rule over her land,” Aryn said. “A knight of the realm who's always been faithful will be made Count of Laherig. Then no one can say I wanted the land for myself.”

“Accusations will fly that you installed a puppet nobleman in charge of Laherig,” Sarahi said. “The nobility will still say you did this all for your own gain.”

“But I can't just let her go,” said Aryn. “You heard the evidence brought against her, you saw how quickly she lost her temper. She seemed so calm when we brought her in, but she was a screaming madwoman today. I half expected her to start foaming at the mouth!”

“You mean she didn’t?” Milo asked, smirking.

Sarahi shot him an angry look, and then turned back to Aryn. “So you are convinced, beyond a doubt, that she is the killer?” said Sarahi.

“The most likely alternative is that I paid off the witnesses to testify against her, and I know I didn't do that.”

“Then you have to make a decision here, is it more important to bring this murderer to justice than it is to keep peace in the realm? You already broke the law to take her in, and the only ones capable of punishing a Queen when she breaks the law are the Council and the lords. If the Council does not remove you from power then there's a risk-”

“Of civil war, yes,” Milo interjected. “A minor risk, I think. We had enough witnesses here today who saw what a raving lunatic Yael was. I think we're safe. I think the lords will understand.”

“The lords might understand,” said Sarahi, “But they also fear losing their power.”

“Alright, then, I ask you this,” said Milo, “What sort of message does it send the common people if you let Yael go? She was kidnapping common-born children. If you excuse her crimes doesn't that tell the common people that you won't protect them? And doesn't that tell the rest of the noble houses that they can do whatever they want to the commoners without fear of retribution?”

“Milo!” Sarahi scolded.

“Sarahi!” he teasingly scolded back. Sarahi rolled her eyes at him.

“You're right, Milo,” Aryn said. “I have to show the people I will protect them, despite how it might make me look. I’ll be damned before I put myself before my people.” Aryn knew that when her mother cautioned her about the consequences of her actions she was not truly suggesting that Aryn let the Countess go, she just wanted her to be aware that condemning the Countess would hurt her standing with the noble houses, and she may have to do some damage control after that. More than likely Yael was the killer they were looking for, but, horrible as it sounded, even if she was not the real killer would see that someone got executed for their crimes and would likely stop at that point, out of fear getting caught and suffering the same fate. It was a horrible way to think, but it was how many kings and queens had approached justice in the past, and it had certainly helped to deter crime before.

Aryn resumed her seat in the courtroom, just as all of the spectators were filing back in and taking their seats, some now holding mugs of beer, as if they were attending a play. She waited until everyone was seated and had stopped their chatter before she spoke, “Countess Yael of Laherig, considering the evidence brought against you and by the guidance of God you have been found guilty of child murder.” At this the crowd erupted into arguments, some cheering, others cursing, many spilling their beer. Aryn pounded her gavel and shouted above the noise, “You are hereby sentenced to death by stoning, to be carried out immediately.”

Yael turned to the nobles in the stands as the guards came to take her away. “Don't you dare let her get away with this! She'll be after your lands next! This bitch harlot is no queen! She is Arx's greatest enemy! She is the true murderer here, you hear me? ARYN IS THE TRUE MURDERER!”

Aryn, followed closely by her mother, Milo, and an entourage of bodyguards, followed as Yael was taken outside to face her sentence. Stoning was an old traditional execution in Arx. Rather than electing a single executioner to carry out the sentence and focusing all of the guilt on that poor soul, a whole crowd was made to participate in the bloody matter. This meant that the blame was spread equally amongst them, and it also made them all feel that they had contributed to seeing justice done. What’s more, the horrific nature of such an execution was thought to deter future criminals. Often murder did go unpunished in Arx, a clever killer made sure there were no witnesses to testify, but any potential murderer who’d witnessed a stoning at least thought twice about it.

Outside Yael was taken to the city square, where all such public executions were held. Aryn noticed that several of those who had attended the trial decided to leave before witnessing the execution, while many who had not been present for the trial arrived to be a part of the execution. Some didn't have the stomach to see justice done, and others were all too eager to see it done, or perhaps just not wanting to miss an opportunity to throw rocks at someone and get away with it. Children were gathering with the adults, with fists full of marble-sized pebbles, and eager expressions on their faces.

As the people of the crowd began picking up their rocks from the sides of the street and the guards chained Yael to a post in the square, the barbarism of what they were about to do hit Aryn. Sure, she believed Yael was guilty, and that she needed to die for her crimes, but as much righteous rage as she felt she couldn't really bring herself to say Yael deserved to suffer. No doubt Yael was in the grips of some kind of madness, like a demon possessing her. She needed to be stopped before she killed anyone else, and she needed to be stoned not only to distribute the responsibility amongst many, but also so that the horror of her death would make an example of her to other potential murderers, but something about subjecting her to a slow death just felt wrong. As Aryn picked up her stone, and all eyes were on her, waiting for her to throw it so that everyone else could join in, she started to wonder if maybe there was some way to ensure that Yael died quickly.

“Kill her!” the crowd jeered.

“Crush her skull!”

“Break her ribs!”

“Make her pay for what she's done!”

“Blood for blood!”

Children chanted, “There’s gonna be a stoning, there’s gonna be a stoning, there’s gonna be a stoning!”

Aryn remembered her lessons with Kamal, remembered all he'd taught her about geomancy, and an idea occurred to her. The stone she'd selected would not work for that, though, for it had no clean lines of cleavage, nowhere to evenly split it. Aryn dropped that stone and bent down to pick up another, running her hands along several others.

“Make her pay!”

“Smash her to pieces!”

Yael closed her eyes and began muttering to herself. It looked like she was praying, but Aryn couldn't be certain, and even if she was praying there was no way of knowing to whom. Aryn's hands glided over the stone she'd been looking for, a small quartz crystal, with sharp edges. It was perfect. Aryn stood with the stone in her hand and aimed it carefully at Yael's face. Yael's eyes turned to look at Aryn, giving her first an expression of sheer hatred, but then a look of forgiveness. Aryn wasn't sure which of these expressions made it harder to do what she needed to do. She focused on the stone, remembering her lessons, and feeling it for the lines where it could split evenly. She pulled back and threw the stone at Yael's face. No sooner had the stone left Aryn's hand than she began using her geomancy to guide it toward the space between Yael's eyes. Yael stared at the stone flying her way, seemingly unable to take her eyes off of it, her eyes crossing as it came to the space between them. Using her magic again, at the moment before the crystal would have struck Yael's head, she split the crystal into many tiny, sharp shards, which pierced Yael's skull and passed right through, killing her in a flash. The crowd hadn't waited to see the crystal connect, though, and just as the crystal passed through Yael's head, dozens of fist-sized, round stones struck Yael's body, each one making a loud thump or crack as it struck, followed by hundreds of tiny pebbles lightly bouncing off her skin.

Once the citizens in the crowd had stopped congratulating each other on their skill at throwing stones, Aryn addressed them all, “Justice has been done here today, but let us not gloat over it. It was sad that this form of justice was necessary in the first place. A moment of silence for the departed, both this woman and her victims.”