Finding the Way and Other Tales of Valdemar (36 page)

“I deny it and I’ll deny it until my last breath!” Bred replied. “I had nothing to do with it! Nothing, you hear me?”

“So you say. We’ll see how the judge decides. Tomorrow’s trial will come soon enough.”

Bred snorted and turned away from his visitor. It took all his self control not to lash out at the well-dressed man who stood in the doorway.
You’re the one who accused me of something I didn’t do,
he thought,
and now
you
tell me to settle down? To the Fires with you! I’m innocent!

The visitor muttered something and closed the door. Bred heard the lock slide in place and lowered his head. Now he could let anxiety show on his face, allow his hands to tremble. Tomorrow. He voiced a small prayer to Vkandis that the god’s justice would avert an all too real fate he saw looming in his future.

 

Perran finished the last of his dinner. The tavern had filled with customers, the hum of their voices rising and falling. A nondescript man sat across his table, one who would easily be ignored in a crowd—a man Perran had sent ahead in the guise of a traveler to gather information about the case he would judge the following morning. What he’d learned from his informant raised questions concerning the murder. Citizens of Berron’s Bend were outraged by the incident, though few actually thought the prisoner guilty.

“So, Levron,” Perran said, leaning forward. “This Bred . . . you say people seem to think him innocent. Even when presented with the evidence?”

“Aye,” the man replied, finishing his tankard of ale. “Most of them can’t imagine him guilty. He works for the town blacksmith and has never been in trouble of any kind. They say he’s generally soft-spoken and courteous to everyone.”

“Too much drinking can bring out the worst in anyone,” Perran commented. “And he was found in this very tavern with the murder weapon on his table.”

“True. But he claims he was sleeping when the murder was committed.”

“Were the any witnesses?”

Levron shook his head. “Not unless you count the blind man who lives in a small room at the back of the tavern. He was in the common room at the time.”

Perran frowned. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant trial. The man who accused Bred of murder was one of the more important citizens of Berron’s Bend, a merchant who had profited greatly from the trade that passed through the region. He had a wife and daughter . . . a girl who was, by all reports, a beauty.

Perran leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling, and thought longingly of his return to Sunhame. Complications arose wherever his circuit led, but this trial wasn’t going to be easy. Not easy at all.

 

Bred kept his head up as he was led into the large meeting room that had been set aside for the trial. The chains that bound his wrists and ankles rattled as he walked. The judge, clad in somber robes, the chain of his office glinting in the sunlight, sat at a large table at the far end of the room. On either side of him stood two burly men, fully armed. Bred’s accuser, Tolber, sat to one side of the table, with onlookers crowding the back of the room. As usual, nothing happened in Berron’s Bend without an audience.

Nothing, save the murder he was accused of.

During the days he had been held, chained in the darkened storeroom, he’d reviewed what had happened the night of the murder. None of it made any sense. And now, he would be judged for a crime he knew he had not committed. With the trial under way, he barely controlled a shiver of apprehension.

One of the guards pulled out a chair facing the judge and motioned Bred to sit. He complied and met the judge’s eyes.

“This court of judgment is now called to order. Let me remind everyone present that what you say is given under oath to Vkandis. Now, let us proceed. State your name,” the judge said, looking at Bred.

Bred stood and briefly bowed his head. “Bred, your lordship.”

“Bred, you’ve been accused of the murder of Wylden, who was found stabbed to death in the tavern. You were found with the murder weapon on your table. How say you? Innocent or guilty?”

“Innocent, your lordship,” Bred replied, squaring his shoulders. He wanted to say more, to protest the entire proceeding, but had decided he would try to answer only direct questions. The less he said, the less chance of being misunderstood.

The judge glanced over at Tolber. “As accuser, you may make your statement first. Your name?”

Tolber stood. “Tolber, your lordship.”

“Your profession?”

“Merchant, your lordship.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

Tolber grimaced. “It was horrible, your lordship. I’d gone to the tavern to meet an associate of mine, a fellow merchant. It was late, but he’d arrived after dark and I wanted to confer with him about goods he carried.”

“How late?”

“Quite late. Most folk had retired for the night.”

“Was the tavern keeper awake?”

“Not that I could tell. He lives behind the common room. There’s a bell on the door that, when the door is opened, alerts of latecomers.”

“I see. Continue.”

“When I entered the tavern, the man I was to meet had already gone to his room, no doubt weary after his travels. It was then I saw the body.” He licked his lips, drew a deep breath and continued. “Wylden was lying in a pool of blood. The prisoner was passed out on the table he was sitting at. I saw the knife beside him on the table.”

“And what did you do?” the judge asked.

“I immediately went to the authorities here in Berron’s Bend and took them back to the tavern. They shook the prisoner awake, bound him and imprisoned him.”

Bred stared at Tolber, rage beginning to cloud his vision. He couldn’t lose his temper now, of all times. How could he have possibly murdered someone and have absolutely no memory of it?

The judge nodded at Tolber and motioned the merchant back to his chair. Bred stiffened slightly at the judge looked in his direction.

“And you, Bred. The evidence seems overwhelming here. What is your version of the events that took place that night?”

Bred kept his shoulders squared and his back straight. “Only this, your lordship. I’m innocent of this crime. I’d worked a long day at the smithy. A large order had come in and we had only a few days to meet it. We worked well past sundown that day. I came to the tavern for my supper and a few ales.”

“A few?” the judge asked. “How many, Bred?”

“Two, your lordship.”

“That’s what all the drunks say,” interjected Tolber.

“Enough!” snapped the judge, sending the merchant a stern look. “If you only had two ales, Bred, why were you passed out on the table where they found you?”

“I was exhausted, your lordship . . . tired and full. I knew Wylden. He was a good man. ” He spread his hands, chains rattling. “I’ve never had a quarrel with him. Never a cross word. You must believe me. I’m innocent!”

Perran leaned back in his chair, steepled his hands and glanced around the room. Bred’s testimony had the ring of truth to it. He’d kept eye contact and displayed none of the nervousness Perran had seen in other murder trials. Granted, he admitted to consuming more than one tankard of ale, but likely he’d imbibed greater amounts at other times and been none the worse for it. He was a big man and probably could hold his liquor easily. Exhaustion had overcome him after a hard day of work. He’d put his head down on the table and gone to sleep.

“I would speak with the blacksmith,” Perran said.

A large, bull-necked man stood at the back of the room.

“Your name?”

“Colvyn.”

“All right, Colvyn. Did you work long hours the day of the murder?”

“Aye, your lordship,” the blacksmith replied. “As he said, we had a large order to fill and had been working our butts off to complete it.”

A ripple of laughter crossed the room.

“Thank you.” Perran said, hiding a smile. The blacksmith looked relieved and sat down. Perran glanced at the townsfolk who filled the back of the room. He’d thought the evidence presented before his arrival in Berron’s Bend would ensure this trial to be a quick one. But now, he wasn’t so sure. “I think we’ll stop the proceedings until after the midday meal. I want everyone to reconvene two hours later.” He stood and made the circular sign of the Sunlord. “Vkandis support our endeavors here,” he intoned.

 

“This doesn’t look good for Bred,” Perran said to the nondescript man who sat across from him at table. “He protests his innocence, but the evidence clearly points to his involvement.”

Levron shrugged. “I agree, but I think there’s more to this than meets the eye. Someone isn’t telling the truth. It’s either the merchant or Bred. Let me wander around and listen to what people are saying. So far, I’ve attracted little attention. Once the townsfolk accepted me as a traveler who chose to rest here for several days before continuing my journey, they seemed to forget about me. I’ll try to get back to you before you start the afternoon proceedings.”

“Do so,” Perran said. “I’m inclined to believe as you do. I’ve always considered myself as one who can read those brought before me, and Bred doesn’t act like a guilty person. He’s either innocent as he claims or one of the best liars I’ve been presented with in years. We still have more people to testify this afternoon. See what you can find for me.”

 

Bred glanced around as he was led back into the meeting room. Once more, his neighbors and other citizens of Berron’s Bend had gathered to view the trial. Tolber sat in his chair by the judge’s table, and the two guards stood motionless behind the judge. Bred swallowed, lifted his head and tried to calm his beating heart. He bowed to the judge and took the chair facing him.

“Once again,” the judge said, “I caution anyone present against falsehood. What is uttered here is spoken before me, chosen representative of the Son of the Sun. We shall proceed now.”

Bred watched the judge’s eyes scan the meeting room as if he was searching for something or someone. Then the judge turned to Tolber.

“Merchant Tolber, I have further questions of you.”

Tolber stood, smoothed the wrinkles from his tunic. Bred noticed he had changed clothes during the break for the noon meal, and what he wore now appeared even more costly.

“Kindly tell me more about Wylden. You knew the man well?”

“Not all that well, your lordship.”

“Yet from what I understand, he was seen numerous times in the company of your daughter. Is that correct?”

Tolber flushed slightly. “Correct, your lordship. He was one of many young men who found my daughter beautiful.”

The judge nodded briefly. “Aside from his seeking your daughter’s company, did you have anything more to do with him?”

“Little, your lordship. He was an aspiring merchant who liked to think he could work with me.”

“And did he?”

“Every once in a while.” Tolber shrugged. “I’d send him on errands, have him meet with various traders who passed through Berron’s Bend.”

Bred watched this exchange, puzzled by the merchant’s words. A quiet murmur ran through the room. Everyone in town knew Wylden as more than an errand boy. He and Tolber had worked together for several years.

“Did you ever have cause to fault your dealings with Wylden?”

Tolber hesitated a brief moment and shook his head. “Not really, your lordship. There were times when . ...” He spread his hands. “Sometimes he annoyed me, but nothing more than small problems that arise when people deal with each other.”

“I see.” The judge leaned back in his chair, appearing to review what the merchant had said.

Bred glanced at his accuser, torn between anger and a real growing fear. The whole town had been witness to Tolber’s ease in speaking, had listened as he’d put forward ideas and solutions to problems that arose in the past. Silver-tongued, some called him, and today he was living up to that reputation.

“The prisoner has a temper,” Tolber said, unprompted. “As you can see, your lordship, he’s a big man. Strong, too. Years of working with the blacksmith has made him stronger than other men. He could easily kill someone and not show signs of it.”

This time the murmur that ran through the room was louder. Bred felt his jaw tighten. A temper? Everyone had a temper. But since an early age, he’d learned to control his. Bigger, stronger than his year mates, he knew what damage he could do if provoked into unreasoning anger.

“Have you ever quarreled with the accused?”

The merchant appeared to think deeply before responding. “No, your lordship. But then I’ve had few interactions with him.”

“You may be seated,” the judge said. “I may have further questions of you.”

 

Perran rubbed his forehead and looked at the townsfolk gathered at the back of the room. From their expressions, the people of Berron’s Bend disagreed with what Tolber had said. That, in itself, was telling. He sighed quietly.