He didn’t answer.
Master Eremis watched Geraden curiously, as though he were genuinely interested in what the Apt was thinking.
“Very well,” said Master Quillon. He took one or two quick steps out into the middle of the floor between the rows of chairs. “Let us begin.”
The chairs were old; perhaps they were left over from the days when the lords and ladies of Orison liked to watch the way prisoners were questioned. The wood was dry and porous enough to hold bloodstains.
“We hold this meeting to consider a question which I will not attempt to soften.” His manner suggested that he might be looking for a place to hide, yet his voice was firm. “As you all know, Master Eremis claims that Apt Geraden is a traitor – a traitor to the Congery and to Orison, to King Joyse and to Mordant. He also says that Apt Geraden will make the same claim of him. We will hear both speak. They will give their reasons. They will provide what corroboration they can. And we will try to determine the truth.”
“And when the truth has been determined,” Castellan Lebbick put in casually, “I’ll act on it.”
Master Quillon ignored the interruption. “This matter must be dealt with speedily. There is a blot on the honor of the Congery, and it must be removed at once. Orison is under siege because of us – because we are desirable to the King’s enemies. And we are not much trusted at the best of times. Therefore it is urgent that we determine the truth – and that any traitor is delivered to the Castellan.
“Apt Geraden” – the mediator’s eyes sparkled – “will you speak first?”
Everybody turned to look at Geraden – everybody except Nyle, who slumped in his chair as if he were contemplating suicide.
Terisa wanted to say, demand, No. Make Master Eremis go first. But the words didn’t come. She watched like one of the Imagers as Geraden got slowly to his feet.
The spots of color in his cheeks had darkened until they resembled a flush of exertion. His movements were tight, constrained. His chest rose and fell as if he were trying to take a deep breath and couldn’t. He didn’t look at Nyle: in fact, he didn’t look at anybody. He had been given a shock he didn’t know how to face.
Terisa found herself thinking, Nyle is doing this because Geraden stopped him.
“Masters—” The Apt had to swallow hard to clear his throat. His voice seemed to be choking him. His life’s ambition had been to belong to the Congery. He had spent years obeying and honoring these men. “We’ve all been betrayed. I can’t prove any of it.”
Oh, Geraden
Master Eremis appeared to be suppressing a desire to laugh.
“You must make the effort, Geraden.” The mediator’s words were sterner than his tone. “Master Eremis will prove everything he can. Are you speaking of Master Gilbur, or of someone else?”
Geraden nodded aimlessly. His gaze stumbled to the floor. Yet he said nothing.
At the sight of his pain, something turned over in Terisa. He had suffered too much, borne too much. And now his brother hurt him like this – personally, deliberately. He was finally breaking under the strain.
“It’s simple, really,” she said in a voice she hardly recognized. “There has to be a traitor. Someone else – not just Master Gilbur.”
Master Quillon swung toward her. His nose seemed to twitch with eagerness, but the rest of his face was still.
“It’s simple, really,” Geraden echoed like a ghost. “There has to be a traitor. Someone else.”
Then he raised his head.
“It has to be somebody here.”
Terisa held her breath, praying that he would go on.
“She’s been attacked by Gart four times.” His tone was a little slurred, but the glaze in his eyes seemed to be fading. “The third time was out in the bazaar. That doesn’t prove anything. But the fourth time Gart came through a secret passage in her room. Somebody must have told him about that passage.”
He stopped.
“That is true,” Master Eremis observed as if he were agreeing with Geraden. “Someone must have told him. I was there to feel his attack. It is possible, I suppose, that I was his intended victim.”
“Master Eremis,” said the mediator with unexpected force, “you will be given all the time you need to speak. Defend yourself then. The Apt must be left to say what he will.”
A Master with a heavy paunch and no eyebrows interposed, “You were there, Master Eremis? How did you survive? How did any of you survive?”
Smiling, Eremis made a deferential gesture for silence.
Without hesitation, Master Quillon prompted Geraden, “Continue, Apt. Who knew of the secret passage?”
At once, Geraden said, “The Castellan, of course. King Joyse. His daughters. Terisa. Her maid. And Master Eremis.”
Terisa released an inward sigh of relief because he hadn’t mentioned Master Quillon or Adept Havelock. He still had enough sense to keep that secret.
The mediator, however, gave no sign that he had noticed Geraden’s restraint. “And what does this prove?”
“Everybody knew about the passage all along. Except Master Eremis. He only found out about it recently. Soon after he found out about it, Gart used it.”
“That means nothing!” protested Master Eremis at once. “What opportunity have I had to confer with the High King’s Monomach? I have been away, as you all know. I have been visiting Esmerel.”
Geraden straightened his back. “But that’s not the crucial one.” At last he began to sound stronger. He was breathing more easily, and his gaze had come into focus. “It’s the second attack that’s crucial. It was right after Master Eremis and Master Gilbur met with Prince Kragen and the lords of the Cares.”
A look of outrage jerked across Castellan Lebbick’s face as old suspicions were confirmed. “They met—?”
Geraden overrode the Castellan. “That lets out everybody else. Everybody who didn’t know about the meeting. But Master Eremis took her to it. When it broke up, he left her with Prince Kragen. Gart came out of a mirror with four of his men to attack them. The Perdon and Artagel saved them. Only Master Eremis could have arranged that. He’s the only one who knew she would be there. He’s the only one who had any control over where she would be after the meeting.”
An expression of mock horror widened Master Eremis’ eyes and stretched his mouth.
“And,” Geraden insisted, “he may be the only Master who knew where she was that first night, when Gart broke into her rooms to kill her. He’s Saddith’s lover. She volunteered to be her maid because he asked her to.
“Master Eremis is the only man in Orison who could have told Gart where and when to attack Terisa.”
As if he were having trouble keeping his balance, Geraden sat down and braced his hands on his knees.
Castellan Lebbick was on his feet, dangerously calm. “I suspected something like this. Tell me about that meeting.”
“Is that all, Apt?” demanded an Imager with a red complexion and bad teeth. “Do you expect us to believe that?”
“Be seated, Castellan,” advised Master Quillon. “This does not concern you.”
“What does Artagel say?” someone else asked.
“I still do not understand why the High King’s Monomach wants to kill the lady Terisa. What threat is she to Cadwal?”
“Why weren’t we told about the second attack?”
“He hasn’t done anything right since I’ve known him. I think we can take it for granted that if he says something it must be wrong.”
“Ballocks and pigsoil!” Castellan Lebbick roared over the babble. “Tell me about that meeting!”
Silence echoed after his shout.
“You have reached a hasty conclusion, Castellan,” Master Eremis volunteered without rising from his seat. “The Perdon suggested a meeting between the lords of the Cares and the Congery so that we could discuss our mutual problem – the inaction of our good King. He arranged the coming of the lords to Orison. Master Gilbur and I were chosen to represent the Congery – I because I favored the meeting, he because he opposed it. I took it upon myself to invite Prince Kragen, believing his mission of peace to be sincere.”