"Why then did you so readily accept my defence regarding Prioress Lizaveta? Why did you not just dismiss it out of hand and be done with it? Was it because you feared others might guess the truth about you and she? You need not lie to me, Lord Dominie; I do not need Mage Sight to recognise the truth."
"Are you so keen to die, Questor Loras?” Horin demanded, scowling. “If that is what you wish, it can be arranged with ease!"
Loras shook his head, feeling his eyes moisten. “I wished that when I was arraigned; when I believed I had committed the foulest treason. When I was stripped of my powers and exiled from the Guild, I considered suicide. Only my marriage to Drima saved me from my growing, self-destructive urge. Now, I must think of my family. My life no longer belongs to me alone. I do not wish to die.
"I repeat my question: why have you taken my side in this trial, if just to condemn me to death? I cannot believe it is just in the interest of justice: We have both played the game of Guild politics too long for me to believe that.
"I want to know everything, Lord Horin; if I am to die, I want to know why you have apparently fought so hard to keep me alive."
Horin leaned towards Loras, his former, angry expression softening. “I am an old man, Questor Loras. I have held this position for many years, and I want to hold on to it. Thorn represents a serious threat to me, and I believe he has betrayed his position. I also believe you were wrongly accused by him in your youth; since you have been here, I have reviewed your prior record, as well as Thorn's, and I find your charges compelling.
"However, I must convince the other members of the Conclave. I cannot convict a House Prelate on Points of Personal Privilege; I would be seen as a weak man relying on his position. When you made your accusation, I thought you might have something I could use to depose Thorn. I have guided this trial as best I could to bring you to this stage and to silence Thorn, but what you have offered so far is useless."
Well, that is candid enough, thought Loras, scratching the unaccustomed growth of hair on his head. Perhaps I am better off with blackmail, after all.
"As I told you, Lord Dominie, I knew the late Senior Magemaster Urel when he was a Neophyte,” he said. The words, delivered in a dull monotone, came from his mouth without his conscious bidding.
"I seem to remember he was training as a Manipulant, or as some other Specialist, Lord Dominie. Urel was no pauper!"
Horin shrugged. “I met the man on a few occasions. As I recall it, he was a Mentalist,” he said. “What does that have to do with anything?"
"What difference would it make if I could show that Lord Thorn's reckless ambition caused Urel's death? That Thorn then tried to cover up the Senior Magemaster's death by blaming him for the whole debacle? That it was no tragic accident, but the result of Thorn's wilful, culpable negligence?"
Horin sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, but he looked at least a little interested. That was a good sign.
"Such a charge might carry more weight,” the head of the Guild admitted. “How would you prove it?"
Loras threw his head back and drew a deep breath, slowly exhaling before he met the Dominie's eyes again.
"It all depends, Lord Horin, on whether you are prepared to… massage justice a little,” he said.
"How much?” the senior mage demanded, his eyes like dark slits.
"As I said, a little, Lord Dominie; if you are willing to admit multiple testimonies, I am sure Magemasters Crohn and Kargan, both scions of wealthy families, will testify to the character of Urel. Magemaster Kargan told me of Senior Magemaster Crohn's doubts regarding Lord Thorn's innocence in this matter. Kargan, too, knew Urel well; they were classmates."
Horin shook his head. “That is not enough, Questor Loras. It is a step in the right direction, but it is not enough to depose a House Prelate. I would like you to tell me just what your proposed ‘massage of justice’ involves."
Loras smiled without humour. “I suggest that you allow me to present my proposed defence concerning the maltreatment of Neophyte Questors, regardless of derision or contempt from the other Conclave members. It might aid you if you went along with them in this; to caution me as to the possible irrelevance of the testimony, but to admit it in the interests of pure, dispassionate justice. In that way, you show yourself to be a strong, impartial leader."
Horin leaned a little closer. This time, Loras felt sure the Dominie's expression showed more than mild interest.
"Do continue, Questor Loras."
"I would quote Law… whatever law it is that says an accused mage is allowed to summon others of the Guild to speak in his defence,” Loras said.
"That is Law 1.6.13,” Horin said, after consulting a compendious tome to his right.
"Thank you, Lord Dominie. Under Law 1.6.13, I will then call Magemasters Crohn and Kargan; you will apprise them of my testimony and allow them the same latitude you allowed me earlier. Introduce my testimony concerning the death of Urel as mere speculation and hearsay.
"If Magemaster Crohn does not react to this, I shall be very surprised."
Horin drained his glass and licked his lips. “And if he does?"
Loras smiled. “I shall keep my evidence vague. I recommend that you press Magemaster Crohn for details as to the dates of the alleged events. I suggest that you adopt a very worried expression and hunt through your papers as you do so; and then call an immediate recess."
The Dominie slowly nodded his head. “I presume this is where the ‘massaging’ takes place,” he said, his lips drawing back from his teeth in what might just have been an answering smile.
"Indeed, Lord Dominie,” Loras replied. “You will then remember a long-forgotten letter from the poor man, warning you of Thorn's activities in this regard. Since it also covers other charges not covered by this trial, you would be quite justified in not revealing it in full to the Conclave."
"How can I justify the fact that I did not remember this letter at once?” Horin asked.
The Questor shrugged. “A man in your lofty position must receive many petitions and letters over the course of a year. You remember the fact that you received a letter from Magemaster Urel, but you forgot all about it when you heard the news of his tragic death, which, of course, arrived as you were about to open the letter.
"On the other hand, of course, you could have forgotten about the letter due to a powerful Geomantic spell…"
Horin smiled. “You missed your true vocation, Questor Loras. I believe you would have been more valuable to the Guild as a member of the Presidium than as a House Questor."
Loras shook his head. “I sailed on the murky waters of Guild politics for many years, Lord Dominie. I thank you for your confidence, but I have no desire to swim in them, or to drink from them. I was a Questor, and I was content with that. I would have accepted the post of Prelate, if I had ever been offered it. However, I never sought any higher rank."
Horin's brows rose, his eyes widening, as if he could not believe that a true Guild man would aspire to any lesser goal than the ultimate accolade.
"I understand, Questor,” he said, but Loras could tell the Dominie was anything but convinced.
Horin picked up his glass and raised it to his lips before realising it was empty.
"Are you sure you will not partake of this splendid beverage, Brother Mage?” he asked, replacing the glass on the table and picking up the bottle. “It is vintage ‘57; the finest year for Pellurian Amber over the last century. I paid a pretty penny for it, I assure you. Of course, I would not expect you to appreciate the finer details of such an exclusive beverage…
"I beg your pardon, Questor Loras. I intended no insult."
Despite the Dominie's belittling words, Loras now felt far more relaxed than he had for some time, and he realised he felt rather thirsty.