David Gemmell – Rigante 3 – Ravenheart

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ snapped the bishop. ‘I don’t doubt you have some scrap of ancient law to justify this waste of time. You may proceed. But be brief.’

Galliott, sitting high in the gallery, watched as Shaddler moved around the table to approach Onray Shelan. The schoolteacher’s movements were awkward, and there was sweat upon his face. He had removed his black coat, and the grey shirt he wore beneath it was streaked with blood from the lashing he had suffered the day before.

Shelan’s evidence was compelling. He had been approached several years ago by Maev Ring, who paid for his journey north. He had then examined the weapons produced by the Feld Forge, pronouncing them of mediocre design and poor craftsmanship. Maev Ring had offered him a four-year contract to design and produce superior pieces, which he had done. These were now highly sought after, creating large profits for the Felds and for himself.

‘Do you use witchcraft in your work?’ asked Alterith Shaddler. Shelan laughed.

‘No, sir. Merely good design, quality metals and wood. I also have pride in my work, and will not allow a single piece to be sold unless it meets the highest standard.’

‘Did you have many dealings with Maev Ring?’

‘I did not, sir. We communicated by letter mostly, though I have met the lady on three occasions.’

‘Did Parsis Feld ever speak to you concerning her?’

‘I object to this,’ said Arlin Bedver. ‘Words which may or may not have been spoken by the late Master Feld cannot be corroborated.’

‘The witness will not answer that question,’ said the bishop.

‘How was your relationship with Parsis Feld?’ asked Alterith Shaddler. ‘Were you friends?’

‘I liked the man greatly,’ said Shelan. ‘There was no arrogance in him. He knew that he was less than brilliant as a businessman, and many’s the time he blessed the day that Maev Ring rescued his forge.’

‘Objection!’ roared Arlin Bedver.

‘So noted,’ said the bishop. ‘You will refrain, sir,’ he told Shelan, ‘from making observations. You will answer questions directly and not elaborate on them.’

‘What are your plans now, Master Shelan?’ asked Alterith Shaddler.

‘I shall resign from the forge,’ said Shelan, ‘and travel south to the capital. I stayed longer than I had anticipated, because of my liking for Parsis Feld and my respect for Maev Ring.’

Bedver made no attempt to cross-examine the gunsmith. Galliott had glanced along the gallery, looking at the faces of the spectators. They were sitting quietly, but listening intently. Onray Shelan came across as a man speaking the simple truth. When his evidence was finished he stepped from the box, and offered a deep bow to Maev Ring. She nodded to him, and gave a small smile.

To Galliott’s surprise Alterith Shaddler did not call Maev Ring to give evidence. Instead he launched into his summation. Galliott could not recall all that he said, but the spirit of it burned in him even now. As Shaddler spoke Galliott became aware that he was not really addressing the Judgement Panel, but was speaking instead to the packed galleries of Varlish onlookers. He talked of the failing businesses and Maev Ring’s skill in assessing problem areas and overcoming them. He listed the years of increasing profits for each of the enterprises. But it was the closing remarks that plunged home like arrows of fire.

‘Imagine if you will,’ he said, ‘a foreign land, far from Varlain. A brilliant young Varlish entrepreneur travels there and finds that there are laws preventing him from using his skills to found a business. So he sets out to make his fortune by investing his genius in the businesses of others, bringing his Varlish skills to bear. As the years pass this young Varlish becomes more and more successful. All who know him are impressed by his acumen. But then some of the people of this land, people he has helped make rich, decide that he is too powerful. So they go to the king and ask that this Varlisli be arrested. The king, an honest and good man, interviews and questions the young Varlish, and finds him innocent of all charges. He has killed no-one, cheated no-one, and broken no law. Indeed his success has also seen the king’s treasury swell as tax revenues increased. But his enemies are determined to bring him down, and they decide that, since they cannot emulate his success, he must be in league with dark forces. So this young Varlish is brought before another court. Witnesses who would speak up for him are threatened, and those who resist the threats are foully murdered. What would we think were we to hear this story? Would we come to believe that he was truly a sorcerer? Or would we know in our hearts that a terrible injustice was being perpetrated?

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