Trial of Kings by Phil Tucker

Author:Phil Tucker [Tucker, Phil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-29T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

They were escorted down the length of the crowded docks to a large guardhouse set on the corner where a tributary flowed into the main river. Their passage was marked with great curiosity; people of all ranks turned to watch, and Acharsis resisted the urge to wave. Instead, he focused on maintaining a pensive frown, seeking to project an air of dignified grievance.

The guardhouse was two-storied and as glaringly white as all the other buildings in Magan. Palms grew in its dusty forecourt, where a number of street vendors catered to what looked like a line of weary plaintiffs arrayed to one side. Acharsis and Elu were marched inside, where scribes sat at desks listening to their visitors' tales and making imprints on blocks of clay. High, vertical windows allowed light into the room, which was pleasantly cool, but before Acharsis could take in much more they were hustled down a corridor and into a large office.

An obviously high-ranking individual was seated on a cushioned stool, dressed in flowing robes of office and wearing a beautifully crafted jackal mask. Robes of white and green flowed down his length, and an ebon staff banded with gold and topped by a serpent’s head lay across his lap. His hands were those of a man in his middle years, strong, and bearing several rings of precious metal.

Three scribes sat on simple blocks along the left wall, tilted lecterns before them on which they were busy imprinting, while the right wall was open to a private garden dominated by a pool of water surrounded by all manner of flowering bushes. A wondrously beautiful bird was strolling about the pool, its plumage a metallic green, wings and tail so long that they trailed behind it by a good two yards.

A hearing was in process. Three older men in matching robes of tan and umber stood in the room’s center, anxiously watching one of the scribes, who was in the process of writing something on his tablet with the serene expression of one who will not be affected by the terrible events he is taking part in. They all turned as the lead guard approached with obvious deference, and a quick exchange took place between the magistrate and the guard which resulted in the older men bowing their heads and leaving the room.

“Stop scowling,” said Acharsis quietly to Elu. “I know I’m not your father. We’re trying to portray ourselves as innocent men, not sullen thugs.”

Elu’s scowl deepened and then, with obvious effort, smoothed away. Acharsis turned to the magistrate as he was ushered forward, raising his eyebrows and affecting a polite smile. When he was motioned to stop, he bowed.

The lead guard stepped up to the magistrate and gave him Elu’s golden serpent. Its appearance caused even the scribes to sit up in shock. The magistrate turned the coiled band about in his hand, then held it up to read something on its inner surface.

Damn these masks, thought Acharsis. Makes it impossible to get a good read on their emotions.

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