I cannot explain now why I ventured out, save to say that I could not bear Megan to be killed without at least showing that I cared. It was folly, and could achieve nothing. For a successful defence against conviction I would have needed witnesses, or at the least a champion.
As I moved nearer I avoided Azrek’s dark eyes, but I could feel his venomous gaze upon me. Soldiers around the platform tensed and took up their weapons, but they did not look at me. Instead they spread out and scanned the crowd.
‘And who might you be, peasant?’ the Lord asked.
‘No peasant, my Lord. I am Owen Odell, an Angostin from the southern coast. My father is the Lord Aubertain, thrice decorated by the father of our glorious King, Edmund.’It was – even at that moment of tension and fear – more than irritating to use the name of my father as a talisman. I did not like the man, nor ever did, I think, and as a child I was determined one day to ride away where men would never have heard of his name. Yet here I was, making the sound of it a shield.
‘You have proof of identity?’ asked the Lord.
‘I need none, sir, for I am not on trial here,’ I answered. This show of arrogance was convincing of itself and he fell silent for a moment.
‘How do you know of this woman?’I spent the winter in her village – before it was sacked and destroyed, not by the Morningstar but by the soldiers of Count Azrek. I saw the results of their butchery. And at no time did I witness the practising of dark magick by Megan, or any other in the village. Nor did I hear talk of treason.’You are suggesting that soldiers in the service of the King would attack and kill innocent people? Are you mad, sir?’I saw what I saw, my lord,’ I told him.
‘Is there any other witness to corroborate your accusations?’ I watched his eyes scan the crowd. Azrek too was sitting forward, his body tense, his eyes gleaming.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I am alone.’For a moment there was silence, and I sensed disappointment in the Lualis Lord. He turned to me, his small round eyes bleak and angry. ‘Without corroboration I have no choice but to let the verdict stand. Are you sure there is no one else you would wish to call upon?’
And then I knew. They were waiting for the Morningstar to make his appearance. Had the situation not been so tragic I believe I would have laughed aloud. Instead I shook my head.
Count Azrek leaned forward, tapping the fat man’s arm. There followed a brief, whispered conversation. Finally the Lord nodded and sat down, allowing the Count to rise in his place.
‘You have spoken with great calumny against me,’ he said, his voice emotionless, his unblinking eyes staring into mine. ‘I demand the right of Challenge.’Strangely I felt no fear. ‘As you wish,’ I told him, ‘but even though I die here, nothing will cloak for long the evil that seeps out from you.’He showed no expression and transferred his gaze to the soldiers holding Megan.
‘Let the sentence be carried out!’ he called. The men took hold of Megan and, unresisting, she was led to the pyre and forced to clamber high upon the piled wood before her hands were unbound and lashed to the stake.
It was then that I saw the floating sphere gliding effortlessly over the heads of the spectators. Many people paused to look up at it, pointing to it as it passed. Several times it hovered over individuals before moving on. Perfectly round and swirling, like smoke encased in glass, I watched it glide to a halt above a tall man in a buckskin shirt. At first I thought it was Jarek Mace, but the man turned towards me as he looked up at the sphere and I saw that he was beardless and wide-jawed. The Search-spell moved on.
Even within my grief and anger I was impressed by the skill of the unknown magicker who had cast the spell. A searching is always difficult, but in a crowd such as this only the very best would dream of sending out a sphere.