He shrugged eloquently. “Nothing came of it. The Fayle and the Termigan were too stiff-necked, the Tor too drunk, the Armigite too cowardly. Only the Perdon and Prince Kragen displayed any understanding of each other.
“Incidentally, if I am trusted by Alend, I am unlikely to be a servant of Cadwal. Don’t you agree?
“I believe,” he concluded, “that the blood you found belonged to Gart’s men. Their bodies left as they came – by Imagery. We can only assume that Master Gilbur escaped in the same way, as the arch-Imager Vagel’s ally.”
His explanation was so close to the truth that it made Terisa squirm. The air in the room seemed to be getting colder. She wondered if she would ever be warm again.
“It was treason,” Castellan Lebbick breathed through his teeth. “You were plotting treason.”
“It was nothing of the kind,” sighed Master Barsonage, speaking for the first time. His weariness cut deep. “The truth is that we were hoping the lords would give us cogent reasons not to risk the translation of our champion. We only took the risk of that translation because the lords convinced us they had no answer to Mordant’s plight.”
“In any case,” Master Eremis said more sharply, “it came to nothing. There is no cause for your outrage, Castellan, because no harm was done. In retrospect, it is clear that the gravest danger arose simply from the presence of so many lords – and Prince Kragen – here at the same time. If the champion had chosen to blast his way in some other direction” – Master Eremis rolled his eyes humorously, but his tone didn’t lose its edge – “he might have brought Orison down on the head of every important man in the kingdom.”
Castellan Lebbick muttered a few dark oaths.
“Can we get on with it?” Terisa asked, still speaking in the voice she hardly knew. “I want to hear why Nyle thinks Geraden is a traitor.”
The Master with the paunch snapped, “My lady, what you want is not of great consequence to us at present.”
With a gesture, Master Quillon demanded silence. Facing Lebbick, he inquired acerbically, “Castellan, may we continue? Or do you wish to go on abusing us because we see our circumstances and Mordant’s need differently than you do?”
Castellan Lebbick spat another curse, then clamped his mouth shut. Like a coiled spring, he returned to his seat.
The mediator rubbed his nose, trying to stop its twitch. “Apt Geraden, have you finished what you wish to say?”
Geraden gave an abrupt nod.
“Do you have any corroboration? Is there anything you can show us or tell us to support your assertions?”
Geraden shook his head.
An odd thought crossed Terisa’s mind. Geraden, she realized, had done what King Joyse wanted her to do: he had used his reason. His accusation against Master Eremis was based on reason rather than on proof.
Unfortunately, it was proof the Masters wanted. “Master Eremis was the only one who knew I would be at the meeting,” she said. “I was there. Everyone else was surprised to see me.”
“No, my lady,” Master Eremis put in immediately. “That is incorrect. You cannot be sure that I did not mention my intent to Master Gilbur – or even to Prince Kragen. You cannot be sure that the surprise you saw did not have another cause.
“But even if your assertion is true, what does it mean? Master Gilbur and I left the meeting together, going – as you know – to report what had happened to our fellow Masters. But he parted from me almost at once, saying that he had an urgent need to visit his rooms. Knowing now that he, at least, is a traitor, how can you believe that he did not take that opportunity – unforeseen though it may have been – to translate Gart against you?”
“Because,” someone Terisa didn’t know remarked incisively, “such an attack could not have been done without preparation. The necessary mirror could not have been made on a whim. Indeed, the location of the meeting must have been chosen to match the proximity of the mirror. Was it not you who chose the location of the meeting, Master Eremis?”
Almost instantly, everyone in the room fell still. Attention concentrated the atmosphere. Geraden took a deep breath, and some of the unnatural color left his face.
Master Eremis, however, wasn’t daunted. “Of course it was,” he snapped. “I had that responsibility because neither the Perdon nor Prince Kragen knew Orison well enough to make the choice themselves. But you assume that the mirror was created for the sake of Gart’s attack on the lady. There were only six days between the planning of the meeting and the meeting itself. Do you think such a mirror could be conceived and researched and shaped in six days? Is it not more probable that the mirror was created for an entirely different purpose – perhaps to give Gart access to Orison whenever he wanted it – and that the opportunity to attack the lady was merely fortuitous, an accident of circumstance which Master Gilbur hurried to turn to his advantage?”
Several of the Imagers shuffled their feet; few of them met Eremis’ gaze. The ease with which he had turned the accusation made Terisa’s thoughts spin.
“Very well, Master Eremis,” the mediator murmured after a long pause. “I presume that Geraden has no more to say. Since you have already begun to defend yourself, please continue.”
“Thank you, Master Quillon,” Eremis said as if he were deliberately suppressing contempt. He didn’t trouble to rise. “I will give you my reasons. Only if they do not persuade you will I call on Nyle to prove what I say. He is understandably reluctant to condemn his brother.”
That statement may have been true. Nyle did look reluctant: he looked reluctant to go on living.
“I have been curious about Apt Geraden since the moment when he brought the lady Terisa to us from a mirror which could not have performed that translation.” The Master sat nonchalantly, half sprawled in his chair with his legs outstretched. While he spoke, his long fingers played with the ends of his chasuble. His manner was so negligent that Terisa had to study him closely to notice that he was watching the entire room. “The link between him and Master Gilbur turned my curiosity to suspicion. When Master Gilbur finally proved himself false, my worst doubts were confirmed.”
No one interrupted him as he recited the arguments he had already presented to Terisa. She had to admit that they sounded plausible, almost inevitable. It was Master Gilbur who shaped the glass which first showed the champion, Master Gilbur who guided every step of Geraden’s attempt to match that mirror. Therefore if Geraden’s abilities had made a mirror which could do things no mirror had ever done before, Master Gilbur must have been a witness to them. Or else Master Gilbur must have been responsible for the mysteries of that mirror himself, guiding Geraden to accomplishments which the Apt couldn’t have achieved for himself. In either case, the two men were confederates. Geraden’s difficulties had always been ones of talent rather than of knowledge: Master Gilbur couldn’t have employed him to do something unprecedented without the Apt’s awareness of it.
“No,” Geraden murmured. “I had no idea.” But no one paid any attention to him.
Master Eremis also explained his theory about why Cadwal was marching. On that basis, he claimed, the rest was obvious. Who was the only man who always knew exactly where the lady Terisa was? Apt Geraden, of course, who first arranged to have her rooms guarded, then persuaded his brother Artagel to follow her. Who was the man most likely to have aided Master Gilbur in translating Gart after the meeting of the lords? Apt Geraden, of course, Master Gilbur’s confederate. Why was it that all Geraden’s apparent loyalty to King Joyse came to nothing? Because it was only a clever disguise to help him hurt those who most trusted him. He was in league with Gart and High King Festten.