Midafternoon on the second day, Magiere ripped aside the elm's doorway curtain at the sound of running feet. "Leesil?"
Six anmaglahk stood outside, with Osha in the front, but there was no sign of Leesil or Sgaile.
"Is time," Osha said in his thick accent.
"Where's Leesil?" she asked. "How can the elves resume proceedings without Sgaile?"
"You come," he urged.
Wynn threw on Chane's cloak asChap rose, and they followed Magiere out.
The guards flanked them as they hurried through Crijheaiche to the council clearing. Again Magiere grew uneasy as she stepped between the bridge-branched oaks and the closest onlookers backed out of her way. She took a slow calming breath at the sight of Leesil and Sgaile standing with Brot'an behind the oak table.
Leesil held his hand out. Magiere hurried down the slope. One anmaglahk almost grabbed for her, but Osha waved him off.
Faint dark rings surrounded Leesil's eyes, but he smiled at her. His muslin shirt and cloak were damp and smudged. He and Sgaile had returned in half the time Brot'an had asked for, so likely they had pushed on all night. Their gear was piled beneath the table, but Leesil's punching blades rested on the surface-along with something hidden by a shimmering piece of white cloth.
"What are the blades for?" she asked.
Leesil shook his head. "They were here when I arrived. Brot'an must have sent for them."
Brot'an's hard glare told them both to be silent.
Across the clearing's depression, Freth and Most Aged Father entered as before, his chair carried by four anmaglahk. As he was placed beside Freth's table, the old elf leaned forward and peered toward Leesil and Sgaile.
Wynn stepped in close to Magiere, ready to translate.
Sgaile looked as worn as Leesil as he stepped to the clearing's center. His hair was a mess, streaming down around his pointed ears in a white-blond tangle. He called out, "The review of the claim will continue. Advocate for the accused may proceed."
Brot'an stepped out as Sgaile backed away, and the crowd fell silent in anticipation. Magiere watched the faces around the clearing, and when she reached Gleann, he lifted his chin to her with a wry, subtle smile.
"I call on Osha of the Alachben," Brot'an said.
Wynn whispered in Magiere's ear, " Osha of the Rock-Hills clan."
Osha approached, and Brot'an lifted Leesil's winged blades, still in their sheaths. He drew one, raised it for all to see, and then turned to Osha.
"Can you tell us what this is?" he asked.
"It is one of Leshil's weapons," Osha answered quietly.
Brot'an cocked his head toward those of the gathering. Osha cleared his throat and repeated with stronger voice.
"Unique blades," Brot'an continued. "Do you know where he found them?"
"I believe he designedthese himself," Osha answered.
"And what are these used for?"
"To destroy undead, or so he said… by taking their heads."
"Irrelevant!" Freth shouted. "Leshil is not accused and these weapons have no bearing on the claim in dispute. The accused's advocate will keep to relevant testimony."
"Relevance will be addressed," Brot'an replied calmly. "If the opposingadvocate will refrain from further interruptions. As Sgailsheilleache is not permitted to witness for either side, I have turned to another in this matter."
Magiere followed Brot'an's seeking look toward Sgaile.
"Objection noted and rejected," Sgaile proclaimed. "But the accused's advocate will be expedient in making this line of questioning relevant."
As Wynn translated, Magiere wondered about the proceeding's rules. Brot'an seemed to have some freedom in questioning, but she wasn't certain why he was concentrating on Leesil's weapons. It seemed that Sgaile's limitations as adjudicator now worked against Brot'an, for Sgaile was the most familiar of all with Leesil and herself. Sgaile had been present in Bela when they hunted undead in its streets and sewers.
Freth whispered in Most Aged Father's ear. He glowered but kept silent.
Brot'an turned back to Osha. "How did you learn the use of these weapons?"
"Leshil told me and the others who escorted him to Crijheaiche."
"Did he work alone?"
"No, he said Magiere and the majay-hi"-he pointed to Chap-"hunted with him. Destroying undead was their vocation."
Brief and broken murmurs sifted through the crowd. Magiere remained tall and straight, with crossed arms, and tried not to meet anyone's eyes.
Brot'an held both his arms wide. "Her vocation was to destroy the undead. And why would one so-claimed undead"-he turned toward Most Aged Father-"hunt its own kind?"
"Hearsay!" Freth shouted. "And conjecture. Your opening statements are concluded. Keep to the presentation of what is verifiable… or be done!"
Sgaile cut in before Brot'an could reply. "Objection upheld. What was heard by the witness from another is not direct testimony unless the original speaker is not present."
"A valid point," Brot'an replied. "Then let us hear it directly… I call Leshil as witness."
"He is not one of us," Freth shouted. "He is notan'Croan and may not speak before the council."
Brot'an paced back to his table. He ripped aside the shimmering cloth, and lifted what hid there into plain sight.
It was a smooth branch, glistening bare of bark.
"Once again, you presume to speak for the ancestors," Brot'an called to Freth. "And yet here is a branch from Roise Charmune. How is he not one of us… if he was given this?" He pointed the glistening branch at Sgaile. "I call upon the ajudicator to confirm."
Sgaile nodded slowly. "In my presence… the ancestors gave it freely to Leshil."
"They gave it to him directly?" Brot'an asked. "He did not procure it with their implied blessing?"
The hiss of whispered voices surrounded the clearing. Magiere looked down at Wynn in confusion, but the sage only translated the words and shook her head, looking about with uncertain worry on her round face.
"Yes," Sgaile finally answered. "They appeared to Leshil and one gave him the branch of Roise Charmune."
Brot'an and Sgaile were the only ones who didn't look stunned. Murmurs among the elders and clans grew until the noise drowned Sgaile's shouts for silence. Across the field, Freth stood silent. She looked back at Most Aged Father, but the old man only stared at Leesil. Even his spite was masked in surprise.
Leesil scowled with his eyes on the ground.
Magiere was so lost. If Leesil had the branch, why had Brot'an waited to reveal it like this? It seemed one more trick he played on his patriarch, perhaps to keep Freth and the old man off balance. Magiere wished she could risk asking Leesil questions in the middle of all this.
"Not enough," Freth called, though it lacked her usual sharp conviction. "Even among our own, only those who've taken their full place as one of us can speak before the elders when in council."
"Another true point," Brot'an answered, and Freth looked wary, as if she'd stepped into a trap. "Blood is not enough. A name is needed to bean'Croan… to be recognized as one of us."
"Leshil does not have…" Freth began, but the last of her words had no voice and were only marked by the movement of her lips.
"He does," Brot'an answered, and turned upon Leesil. "Speak your true name for all to hear and recognize your rights."
Magiere looked at Leesil.
"It doesn't mean anything," he whispered to her. "Whatever it takes to get you out of here… I don't care what they believe."
"The witness will refrain from speaking," Sgaile called loudly."Except as directed by the council, an advocate, or the adjudicator."
Magiere wanted to grab Leesil and make him tell her what had happened.
Leesil took a long breath. "Leshi… Le… shi-air…" He sighed in frustration. "I can't pronounce it."
Sgaile frowned, the tan lines of his face creasing, and he shouted out,