Lord Dean said in my ear, "Many of the free-servants will be unhappy with the Chara's judgment and sentence."
I turned away then, and with a voice as dispassionate as the Chara's had been, I said to the council lord, "It is indeed a hard case to judge."
The white-haired lord smiled, the wrinkles on his face turning upward. "I have heard many fine stories of your tact and your loyalty to your master. Yet Peter tells me that you are always willing to offer your opinion on his actions, should he ask. That is a rare combination, a servant who is close-mouthed in public and candid in private. Should you ever wish to leave the Chara's service, I think that I could find some work for you that would bring good to our land. Or it may be that you will be able to find such a role while working for the Chara."
I bowed to the High Lord in acknowledgment of his words, watched him walk away to discuss the case with another lord, and then left the balcony.
o—o—o
I returned to the Chara's quarters and found Lord Carle there, holding the emblem brooch in his hand.
The door was half-open, and I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. Lord Carle was looking down at the brooch with a smile, an easy, friendly smile which I had seen on only a few occasions during my years with him and which, it need hardly be said, he had never directed toward me. As he held the emblem up toward the light, he caught sight of me, but his smile did not disappear.
"Good day to you, Andrew," he said, carefully replacing the brooch on the table before him. "I hope that you are well today."
I stepped inside, leaving the door ajar as I had found it, and spent a minute assessing his face before I was able to convince myself that Lord Carle's words were anything more than his usual sarcasm. "Good day to you, Lord Carle," I said with detached courtesy. "May I offer you wine?"
"Thank you, but no," he said. "I am on my way back to my quarters to change. I only stopped to give the Chara my congratulations for his fine judgment in this case."
I kept my eyes fixed on his. It had been one of my keenest pleasures as a free-man to discover that I could now stare straight at Lord Carle without impunity. I said, in a voice still innocent of all emotion, "I am sure that the Chara will want to congratulate you as well for the help you gave in the case."
The smile disappeared then, like water trickling out of a cracked cup, and I saw him probe me with his look. When he spoke, his voice was without anger, but there was a firmness to it that had not been there before. "It was of course regretful that I should have had to give evidence against my former servant. But Henry disobeyed the Chara, and it is important to Emor that disloyalty not be allowed to flourish."
"Yes," I said. "I suppose the fact that Henry served you loyally for thirty years does not compensate you for discovering that you had a disobedient servant."
I had flung myself into battle while holding only a child's dagger, I knew. This was not the manner in which free-servants were supposed to address council lords. But servants were not supposed to address the Chara in such a manner either, and I had grown used to my freedom in more than one way.
Lord Carle was gazing at me now with narrowed eyes; his contented mood had vanished. "If Henry had been disobedient to me, I would have forgiven him," he said, raising his voice. "But he was disobedient to the Chara, to whom he swore, on his free-man's blade, that he would serve with loyalty. Betrayal of the Chara cannot be forgiven. The life of Emor depends on the Chara's subjects obeying his commands."
My own voice began to raise above its customary low pitch. "If you are concerned with the Chara and not with your own pride, then you might recall that the Chara also made an oath of loyalty, one to show mercy toward those placed under his care. It is an oath, I think, that all masters should be required to make." I paused, and then added recklessly, "Since you have so much loyalty toward the Chara, perhaps you would like to begin such a custom."
Lord Carle stood motionless; he was breathing heavily. He said, his words dropping like stones from a slingshot, "You are a fine one to talk to me of loyalty."
My hand, which was resting on my dagger hilt, curled into a fist. "What do you mean by—?"
"Enough," said the Chara.
He was at the doorway; one of his hands had swept back the door, while the other was resting on the hilt of his sword. He stood in that stance for a moment, his cloak widened to twice its usual size, as he looked at both of us with the expression of the Chara in judgment.
"Return here later," he told Lord Carle abruptly. Lord Carle bowed and left the room without a word. The Chara turned to close the door after the council lord, and when he turned back, his face had not changed.
"You two," he said icily, "could be heard halfway to the Court of Judgment. As I walked down the corridor just now, the only servants who were not staring at me with scorn were those who were busy amusing themselves by listening to the Chara's free-servant pick a fight with a council lord. I did not need this today."
He pulled at his cloak clasp, and then removed the cloak with one swift movement and threw it onto the fireside chair. His right hand came back to rest on the sword hilt.
"I know that Lord Carle is a difficult man," he said, "but you do not make things easy for him. You are insolent toward him, in both words and looks, and on the occasions on which he has been courteous to you, like a soldier laying down his arms, you have repaid him with words as cruel as dagger-thrusts. I am tired of having to intervene on your behalf to keep Lord Carle from going to the court summoners and charging you with the crime of insulting a free-man. I am also tired of overhearing whispered jokes about how the Chara is Master of the Koretian Land but that he is not master of his own free-servant." The immobility of his face was matched by the coldness of his eyes. "Let me be clear, Andrew son of Gideon. From this moment, you are not to begin any conversation with Lord Carle unless I am present. I say this as the Chara. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Chara," I said woodenly.
"Good. Then go change out of those clothes. And put away that dagger – you have not behaved today in a manner worthy of a free-man."
He turned his back on me and strode over to his writing table, but I did not move. When the Chara reached the table he paused, took off his pendant slowly, and held it in his hand for a moment. He said quietly, without looking back, "I saw you in the balcony. Was it Henry's case that you were fighting about with Lord Carle?"
"Yes."
The Chara let the pendant fall into the box where he kept it. He stood looking at the ornament for a moment longer, then turned and leaned back against the table. His face had lost its frigid lines, and he said in a low voice, "You should have saved your quarrel for me. I will have to defend my decision to every free-servant in this palace. I may as well try out my defense on you."
I stood as rigidly as I had before. With eyes lowered somewhat, I said, "It was a difficult case to judge."
I barely caught sight of the flicker of anger in Peter's eyes as he said, "That is the sort of statement I would expect to hear from Lord Dean, not you. I did not make you my servant so that you could tell me the polite lies that I hear from everyone else. I want your honesty."
I raised my eyes to match his. "I think that you were wrong in your judgment and wrong in your sentence and wrong in other matters as well."
"Thank you," said Peter. He pulled off his sword, laid it gently on the desk beside the pendant, and allowed his hand to rest on it for a moment. His gaze drifted over to the great blade beside him, and then returned to me.
"I would much rather have been Henry today, facing the high doom, than myself, placing him under the high doom," he said softly. "If it had been my decision, I would have let him go free. But the case was not decided by me but by the laws of Emor, which I am sworn to uphold. When I vowed not to show favor to any man, it was precisely this sort of trial that was meant. If I were to show favor to Henry because I liked him, then I would no longer be restricted by the law of this land, and it is the Chara's law that keeps Emor from dissolving into the civil war that nearly destroyed Koretia. I suppose that this is hard for you to understand, since you were not born Emorian."
"You could have found Henry guilty of disobedience but sentenced him to mercy."
"The sentencing is part of the law. I should have explained the law-structure to you long ago, for you can't understand my duties without it. I am bound as fast as a prisoner by what the law says I can do. I am as much a servant to the law as any of my subjects – if I were not, I would not be allowed to rule, and if there were no Chara to proclaim the ancient laws, then the laws would cease to exist. My main duty is to keep Emor alive through my judgments, and I cannot do this if my subjects believe that they can disobey me without penalty."
"Lord Carle said something like that just now," I murmured.
Peter picked the brooch up off of the desk and stared down at the royal emblem. "Contrary to your belief, Lord Carle does occasionally speak words that are true. One thing he has told me is that I do not discipline you enough. I would not want to imitate Lord Carle's methods of discipline, but perhaps you have so often seen me showing mercy that you forget I wear the Sword of Vengeance. Did you know that in ancient times one of the Chara's duties was to execute with his own hands those who were placed under the high doom? The Charas used this sword for that purpose. I thank the wisdom of the dead Charas that I am not required to carry out such a duty – customs do change in Emor, but the laws do not change, and one law is that those who willfully disobey the Chara's direct command must die."
He had been leaning against the table in as relaxed a pose as before, but as his eyes met mine, I saw he knew that we were in a dagger-duel as dangerous as any I had attempted with Lord Carle. Since he realized this, I did not hesitate before asking my next question: "And what of the custom that the Chara may overrule the court summoners?"
"Ah." Peter gave a somber smile as he pushed himself away from the table and went over to stand by the sitting chamber's southern window. He looked out for a moment, and the light breeze that seemed never to cease in Emor blew his hair over his eyes so that I could not see them.
"I knew that it would come to that in the end," he said. "This is harder to explain, because it has nothing to do with my duties as the Chara; rather, it has to do with my frailties as a man. In the court today, my duty was clear, and I had no choice but to take vengeance against Henry. But I had the choice of whether to take vengeance against the subcaptain for the rape he had committed, and I chose to have mercy."
He turned toward the window so that I could not see even his face. "It has been nine years now since I left the palace," he said quietly. "I would have had to leave the palace if there had been threat of a war, but no wars have occurred since I became Chara. I have never been in battle, but my father told me what it is like. He said that the worst moments come, not during the fighting itself, but in the nights before great battles, when the soldiers are forced to wait for hours, knowing that they may die the next day. My father said that many soldiers who have been brave during sword-battle desert their duties during that terrible waiting. I used to wonder whether I myself would some day betray Emor in such a way, for I have never had to face the possibility of death. That is why I find it so hard to condemn others to death, and that is why I am unwilling to punish soldiers who commit evil deeds during war."
He looked back at me, and I supposed that he expected me to make some gentle reply to this confession of fear. But I could see framed behind him the black border mountains, and there came to me an image of fear and destruction beyond that which he had given me.
I said bitterly, "And what mercy have you shown toward the girl who was raped? You said that you have never been a soldier – well, you have never been the victim of a soldier either. You have not been raped or killed or enslaved, or watched as your city was destroyed on the orders of the Chara."
Peter was still holding the emblem brooch. His fingers curled around it, not with vigor, but with tenderness, as though he were holding Emor itself in his palm. He said quietly, "I've never asked about your life in Koretia, Andrew, not even how it is that you came to be enslaved. I've heard you cry out in your sleep and guessed that that must be what you were dreaming about, but I did not believe that I had the right to question you. Since it is clear, though, that you blame the Chara for your enslavement, I think that I had better know what it is that you saw in that city when the Emorians attacked."
I said, in a voice as icy as the Chara's had been some time before, "You mention my dream. I will tell you what it is that I cannot stop dreaming about. I dream of the day that I was enslaved, and of the soldier who enslaved me. That is not why I cry out. I cry out because the same soldier who enslaved me killed my blood brother John and raped and killed my mother. I cry out because the fire consumed my city soon after, so that even if I were to return there today, I would not be able to visit his ash-tomb."
I failed to notice that the destruction in my mind had focussed itself on a single image. But when he spoke, Peter said, "I have heard of blood brothers but have never known what they are."
"They are created by a blood vow to the gods, a vow between two Koretian friends who may some day be parted. Shortly before you and I first saw each other, John and I exchanged blood and swore to be loyal to each other beyond death and to uphold each other's vows. John swore to help bring peace to our land." I paused, making sure that my eyes were firmly centered on Peter's. "I swore to kill the Chara."
When Peter spoke again, his voice was soft. "The Chara makes a vow to bring peace as well. My father believed that Emor could not have peace unless he attacked the Koretian capital. If I had had to judge the case myself, and if I had known what I know now – that the city would be destroyed, that all but a handful of its people would be enslaved or put to the sword, that your mother and blood brother would be killed and that you would be enslaved and gelded – if I had known all that, I would have given the same judgment as my father did."
There was a silence. Peter's hand had closed more tightly around the emblem, but his gaze did not falter. I turned and left the Chara's quarters without a word.