“Jasak believed that the initial hummer dispatches had delivered the news of both the battle between his platoon and the Sharonians and the news about the arrest of Bok vos Hoven. Given who vos Hoven is related to-closely related to-it was quite reasonable for him to assume a hummer message could have been sent back down the transit chain with instructions to shakira operatives to arrange a nasty little surprise for your traveling party. Without Otwal’s and Trooper Sendahli’s testimony-or yours-the chance of his conviction would have gone up astronomically. And, of course, if they’d managed to kill all of you, there’d be no need of a court-martial at all, from their perspective.”
Gadrial swallowed hard. “That’s ghastly.”
“Yes,” the duchess said simply. “It is.”
Anger licked Gadrial’s nerves like tongues of flame, and the eyes which met hers this time held no warmth at all.
“Forewarned is forearmed, Your Grace. Thank you for that warning.”
“You’re welcome. Now, then, if Jasak is found guilty in his court-martial, the odds go up that this slimy little shakira won’t be found guilty of his crimes, even with Trooper Sendahli’s testimony.”
“I don’t understand,” Gadrial moaned, holding her throbbing temples. “He was caught in the act. How much more evidence would the army require?”
“An officer cashiered for poor judgment is an officer whose judgment-and motives-are suspect in all things. Including the arrest of a shakira allegedly caught beating and extorting money from a lower-ranked soldier. The Olderhans are widely known for opposing the Mythlan caste system, and Sendahli, as a garthan would have an obvious motive for wanting to see a shakira convicted, rightly or wrongly. And I truly hate to say this, my dear, but virtually everyone in the multiverse knows how you feel about shakira…and you happen to be one of the finest theoreticians in all the known universes. If anyone could hack the court’s truth detection spellware to let him lie successfully, it would be you.”
“I see.” And she did, clearly and hideously. “They’ll say Jasak trumped up the charges against an innocent man, out of prejudice, and that Jugthar went along with it. And you’re right; the shakira would love to drag me into it, as well, wouldn’t they.” She grimaced. “And the court will call that worm vos Hoven as a witness in Jasak’s court-martial, too, won’t they?”
“Yes.” The duchess nodded. “He was present at the battle that’s the basis for the charges pending against my son.”
Gadrial’s heart went a little colder and she swallowed hard.
“Surely the court’s officers will realize that nasty little slimeball will do and say anything to ensure Jasak is destroyed.”
“Of course they will…but that may not be enough to save the man we both love.” She bit her lip again. “I must ask, Gadrial. Did you actually see the battle?”
“No,” she whispered. “When we reached the clearing, Jasak realized immediately that the Sharonians might’ve taken refuge in all that storm debris. It was a perfect spot for an ambush, if that was what they intended. He wouldn’t put me at risk. So he assigned two soldiers as bodyguards and kept me back, out of sight. But I heard it all very clearly.”
Her Grace, Sathmin Olderhan, Duchess of Garth Showma, closed her eyes for a moment. Then she got them open again.
“Well, that’s better than it might have been,” she said. “You may not be an eye-witness, but you’re aware of what happened, when it happened, and in what order. That’s something the court will have to pay attention to, at least.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t see it, Your Grace,” Gadrial whispered.
“Don’t fret too greatly, my dear,” Jasak’s mother said firmly. “And given what we’ve just been discussing, it’s time to drop this silly formality. My name is Sathmin. And don’t even try to protest,” she added. “One of the greatest joys of the four years I spent studying in Ransar was the delight of having people use my name, rather than my title or its related formal address.”
Her smile was soft with memory.
“Those four years were so…liberating. It took some getting used to, at first, but I missed it desperately when I came home and discovered that my father had set up a marriage arrangement for me.”
“He arranged your marriage?” Gadrial gasped, horrified.
“Oh, yes. Most Andaran marriages are carefully arranged by the parents on both sides of a prospective union.”
Gadrial’s heart sank.
“Oh, no, dear child,” the duchess said firmly, “none of that! If I thought you weren’t suitable, we wouldn’t be here, this morning, having this conversation.”
When she finally managed to speak, Gadrial’s voice was filled with wonder. “That’s the second-highest compliment I’ve ever been paid.”
Sathmin Olderhan blinked, startled and obviously puzzled for a moment; then her eyes softened.
“The highest was when Halathyn vos Dulainah agreed to train you?” she asked gently.
“You’re close. That was a profound compliment to a country girl barely turned eighteen. But the highest compliment was the day he resigned from the Mythal Falls Academy. He was furious over the accusations against me, but I couldn’t believe it, when he resigned his faculty post. He was Chairman of the Department of Theoretical Magic Research, the most coveted and honored position in the entire academy. And he threw it away. Threw it into their teeth, like a hurled stone. Over me. I wasn’t worth it,” she whispered.
“My dear,” Sathmin murmured, taking Gadrial’s hand in hers, “I beg to differ. You most certainly were worth it, or he wouldn’t have done it. You forget how many conversations I’ve had with him, in my role as an Institute advisor and sponsor. Moreover, I’ve watched the Garth Showma Institute prosper and grow and outshine the Mythal Falls Academy again and again, under your leadership. To succeed wildly in an endeavor in which your enemy has attempted to make you fail, Gadrial, is always the very best revenge. Trust me; you’ve accomplished that many times over.”
The duchess smiled again, sweetly.
“And by placing me in the same company as Halathyn vos Dulainah, you’ve paid me one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. So, having settled how admirably suitable you are for my son, let’s get some breakfast into you.”
Sathmin touched a spell accumulator beside her chair. Nothing happened here, but Gadrial knew the spell would inform the staff that the duchess was ready for the rest of her breakfast. Less than one minute later, that breakfast arrived, set out efficiently by the maids who looked after the family meals. The spell-enhanced serving dishes were the best on the market, programmable for various temperatures, with a simple dial on each serving dish allowed the staff-or diners-to dial the holding temperature up or down, as desired.
She settled in and tucked into her meal as Sathmin worked exceedingly hard at putting her at her ease. Within minutes, she’d relaxed enough to actually enjoy the stories of Jasak’s childhood mishaps, hijinks, and triumphs. She needed that, and she blessed Jasak’s mother for helping her prepare for the coming ordeal. And she prayed to Rahil, as well. Prayed hard, hoping that what she’d heard that terror-filled, agonizing day in a forest far from this lovely breakfast room, would save the man they both loved.