Judgment
The meeting felt like a strange replay of when he’d last been summoned before the captains in Isofal. The size of the room, the flickering personal lights of the attendees, the way he stood just behind and to the right of Alik Nuhzar—it was all eerily familiar.
Math scanned the assembled group before ducking his head back down in proper deference. There was one major difference, of course. The only difference that mattered. These were not captains.
The gathering here consisted solely of commanders. The commanders of every cenobium in the empire.
Commander Liradda rapped a staff or rod sharply against the marble flooring; Math and Nuhzar both kept their heads lowered.
Bashan’s commander, Liradda, an elderly man who probably needed to circle Land spells to wear his armor, raised his voice.
“We have several orders of business today. The first is a request to reinstate Mathaiik Kaven to the Order and knight him. Captain Nuhzar of Swords has claimed that Commander Talu wrongly ejected Mathaiik from the Order. That the young man has in the time since continued to act in a manner consistent with the Order’s goals and beliefs and has gone above and beyond in the line of duty.
” He paused after that summary. “Commander Talu, what do you have to say to this?”
Math’s head snapped up. Nuhzar had said he planned to get around the execution issue with a very simple solution: not mentioning it.
Talu had told no one else about the order.
As long as that continued to be the case, Math could simply claim ignorance.
In theory, Math shouldn’t know about it either.
Unfortunately, it was a plan that had hinged on Talu remaining at Isofal.
The man himself stepped forward, giving Math a kind, fond look as he did.
“I would say that it’s not the captain’s place to question my decisions when it comes to the security of Isofal Cenobium.
All evidence at the time suggested the young man was already under the control of dark forces, infected by the same curse that had taken down many of our knights.
I couldn’t take that risk and jeopardize my people.
That said, I harbor no ill will toward the young man.
Just the opposite, in fact: given how many knights at the cenobium were calling for his head, sending him to Bashan was the only way to protect him from his enemies.
” Commander Talu’s gaze lingered on Captain Nuhzar before continuing.
“I would like to know why the young captain has taken it upon himself to decide, entirely on his own authority, that Mathaiik Kaven is his responsibility.”
Math’s eyes drifted over toward the interrogator whose job was to check for lies. He didn’t seem to be checking the commanders, though. They could say whatever they wanted.
Commander Liradda turned to Nuhzar. “Do you have a response?”
Alik Nuhzar squared his shoulders. “With all apologies to Commander Talu, I do not consider Mathaiik Kaven my responsibility. I was simply doing my duty to curb a potential risk. I was as surprised as anyone to realize that Kaven was innocent.”
“But the two of you grew up together,” Talu murmured, loud enough to be heard. He raised an apologetic hand. “Apologies, Commander Liradda.”
The aging commander gave Talu a sharp look. “Do you have any other questions?”
“Yes,” Talu said mildly. “I would also like to know how either of these two can explain the plants.”
“The plants?” Commander Liradda looked between Nuhzar and Mathaiik.
“When Kaven was treated for his injuries at the site of the first attack, the healers removed a number of stems and greenery from underneath his skin. I found the same plants discarded in the maze’s antechamber—before the attack.
” He raised a finger. “I must emphasize again: before the attack. And this in the antechamber to the same maze that Kaven just ‘happened’ to open later that evening. How could I be anything but suspicious?”
And the worst part was—such suspicion did sound reasonable.
“I beg your pardon,” a woman’s voice called out. “Just for clarification, are you saying that this young man is the one who discovered how to solve the Isofal maze?”
People stepped back, to the side, like the tide pulling away from the shore. In their wake, Math saw a familiar woman wearing ornate armor and a rich, imperial-blue silk cloak.
This was the regent of the empire, Imar Shovan.
It was like watching someone pull a single thread and by doing so, unravel an entire tapestry. The indignation drained from the room. Commanders shifted uncomfortably. Math heard grumbles, spoken too low to catch the exact nature of the complaint.
Talu had an expression on his face that Math had only seen from him a handful of times in his whole life: the look of a man who’d realized he’d just made a mistake.
“Yes,” Talu acknowledged, “but—”
“You must admit: it’s an extraordinary achievement.”
Talu straightened. “Your pardon, but I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”
She waved a hand. “Oh, I’m sure you’re right. This is only the first new Illuminated repository to be opened in centuries, an event of monumental importance to the general population, who are rightfully proud of Rokasmaa’s dedication to maintaining the archives.”
“With all respect, Your Excellency,” Commander Talu said, “we aren’t certain it is an Illuminated archive.”
Math held his breath. If they started talking about Kaiataris …
“Not certain?” The regent tilted her head. “With the Order’s popularity at the lowest it’s been in recorded history?”
Several of the commanders quietly snickered. Most, however, looked like they’d just tasted something sour.
Regent Shovan smiled pleasantly. “In which case, I suppose my own real question is: Was this new repository discovered by a knight of the Idallik Order, or … someone else?” She didn’t say the words “Kaliri spy” out loud, but they were still perfectly audible.
Math struggled to maintain an appropriately serious demeanor.
If they declared that Math wasn’t an Idallik, or worse, that he was a Kaliri spy, it meant acknowledging that he’d been allowed to gain access to the holiest of holy treasures.
That the Idallik Order had failed to do one of its most important jobs.
That subtlety was clearly not lost on Talu, who turned to Math. “Captain Nuhzar says you’ve learned to manifest. Show us.”
Math knew the trick of it now. He shaped the shield carefully, making sure they all saw the vines and leaves trailing from his hand into the summoned shape.
None of the commanders said a word. Math let them study it for thirty seconds and then dismissed it. “My problem,” he said to Commander Liradda, “was that I kept trying to summon a sword, and my soul wanted something else—but I am not and have never been a traitor.”
The interrogator standing to the side held up his white flag, signaling that no lies had been told.
To Math’s utter shock, Talu smiled then. “You’ve wanted this for so long. Congratulations.” He said to the regent, “I think we can all agree that an Idallik Knight discovered the new repository.”
“Very well.” The regent smiled happily, all the while her eyes never leaving Math’s. “At some point soon, you must tell me how you solved the riddle—I want to hear all about it. For now, I yield the floor.”
“Yes.” Commander Liradda gestured to Talu with his staff of office. “Given this new information, Commander Talu, would you change your decision?”
Talu didn’t hesitate. “Of course. I was obviously mistaken. Novitiate Kaven should, by all rights, be a knight of the Idallik Order.”
“And Mathaiik Kaven, would it be your preference to rejoin the Order?” Commander Liradda asked Math.
Math hesitated.
Past the crowd of commanders, he could still see Regent Shovan, still staring at him. She shook her head, ever so slightly. What did that mean? Was she telling him to say no?
“Novitiate Kaven?”
Math snapped back to attention. He couldn’t refuse. The regent herself had just laid the reasons he couldn’t refuse, never mind that he’d need to be a member of the Order—a loyal member of the Order—if he expected them to take his story seriously.
“Yes, Commander. I wish that.”
“Very well.” The old man turned back to the rest of the commanders. “Shall we allow this?”
They would.
Math tried to trace the strange twisting to his stomach, somewhere between butterflies and nausea.
“Excellent. Then consider yourself returned to the Order. I’m sure Commander Talu will take care of the knighting after this meeting is over.”
Math swallowed and tried to puzzle out what had just happened.
He understood why he’d been returned to the Order—ultimately it had nothing to do with his guilt or innocence and everything to do with politics and public relations.
Talu acted happy about it because it was the expected reaction, not because it was the truth.
Talu hadn’t mentioned the execution order. Did that mean he hadn’t actually written it? Or …
Or, did it mean that Talu knew he didn’t have a good justification?
“With that matter resolved,” the old man said crisply, “let’s turn to the emergency that warranted this convocation.”
Math tore his thoughts back to the present. He needed to pay attention to this part.
Captain Nuhzar cleared his throat. “We have discovered the identity of a grim lord, one who is in league with the Kaliri and moving against Rokasmaa and the Idallik Order.”
One commander scoffed. “I hardly think a grim witch is—”
“Apologies, Commander,” Nuhzar said. “But I didn’t say grim witch. I said grim lord.”
Silence.
Unsurprisingly, the regent was the first to recover.
“That’s a bold claim,” she said. “On what evidence are you basing it?”
“An eyewitness, ma’am,” Captain Nuhzar said.
“And where is this eyewitness?”
That was Math’s cue. He stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“Here, ma’am. I was attempting to travel here to Bashan, but due to admittedly strange circumstances, I found myself in Lomar, a prisoner of King Sanistral.
” This alone caused a forbidding amount of suspicious muttering to echo around the great hall.
“Sanistral tried to recruit me into a plot to lure one of the Parnathi Queens into a trap,” Math said.
“He intended to use her in a ritual—to steal her power.
“During that time, he also revealed he was a grim lord. And that he’s been supplying weapons to the Kaliri.” Math grimaced. “When I refused, he had me imprisoned. I immediately escaped and returned here.”
As one, every commander turned to the interrogator, who again held up the white banner.
Math hadn’t lied.
Everyone started speaking at once. It felt just like a meeting of captains.
“Silence!” the regent snapped. Regent Shovan turned back to Math, looking distinctly bemused. “I have many questions.”
Math nodded. “Of course, Your Excellency. I’ll answer to the best of my ability.”
By the time Mathaiik stepped back out into the hallway, he was shaking.
He was the only one to leave. Everyone else—including Captain Nuhzar—remained inside. While the commanders had asked many questions, some of which had been uncomfortably insightful, it was the regent who’d really made the sweat slide down the back of his neck.
At least no one had rescinded the offer of knighthood.
They’d listened to him, although that might have been more to do with the regent’s presence than his story.
He was going to be knighted. This was everything he wanted.
Maybe if he repeated it enough, he’d believe it.
The commanders deliberated for another three hours.
When the doors finally opened, Captain Nuhzar was the first out the door.
He seemed to put as much distance as possible between him and everyone else in the room.
Math’s stomach twisted; that was a terrible sign.
Behind Nuhzar, the commanders began barking out orders to runners.
It felt like the start of a race. No one shouted out his name or signaled for his arrest, however.
No one showed any interest in him at all.
Math craned his neck, searching for Commander Talu.
As much as he didn’t really want to speak with the commander, Commander Liradda had been clear about who would knight him. When Math spotted him, Talu was deep in conversation with the regent. Math decided it would be best not to interrupt them.
Talu glanced over at Math, noticed him, and smiled. He seemed pleased with himself.
Cold fingers of dread crawled down Math’s spine. What had happened?
Regent Shovan said, “Please see to what we’ve discussed. Thank you, Commander.”
The smile faltered on Commander Talu’s face, but only for a second. He bowed to the regent and left.
At which point, the regent turned on her heel and made straight for him.
“Mathaiik,” Imar Shovan said, “just the person I was hoping to find.”
“Your Excellency, I just wanted to thank you for what you said at the meeting.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound composed. “You may very well have saved my life.” He paused a beat. “Only—why did you shake your head at me?”
“We’ll discuss your career options later. This is for you.” She handed him a small, delicate-looking stone disk that reminded him of a much fancier version of the tokens the Order used for tracking.
He studied it and frowned. “Thank you, Your Excellency. I don’t understand—”
“Present it at the palace. The guards will recognize it and let you inside. Your sister’s anxious to see you.”
Math blinked. “My sister? What—?” He cleared his throat. “May I ask what my sister’s doing at the palace?”
She laughed. “Taking care of the children, of course. Which she keeps saying she hates, but I think they’re growing on her.
” Shovan tilted her head. “Bashan Cenobium is a very cramped place at the moment, and I found the young lady and her charges pushed out into a hallway. They were quite miserable. Naturally, I offered them temporary lodging.”
Math closed his mouth and swallowed. “Thank you, Your Excellency. That’s very kind of you.”
She waved a hand. “I don’t make a habit of doing things to be kind.”
He managed a thin smile. That was what worried him.
The regent tapped him on the shoulder. “Go visit. Immediately.”
“I don’t…” He slipped the stone token into a coat pocket. “I’m not allowed to leave the cenobium.”
“Oh, you seem like a resourceful young man. I’m sure you can figure something out.” Without waiting for him to respond, she turned around and walked away.
Math stared after her.
What.