Prince of Lies - James Lowder [93]
Mystra had taken up her traditional post, toward the back of the wizard's workshop that she perceived the pavilion to be. By her side stood the nine inquisitors, imprisoned in their cages of unbreakable, Gond-crafted steel. Tyr sightlessly faced the goddess from the opposite side of the workshop, clutching the lectern with his lone hand as if the box were a pulpit and he an impassioned preacher; there was nothing the God of Justice loved more than a trial, especially one involving his fellow deities.
"Members of the Circle," Tyr began, "Lady Mystra stands accused of carrying out a vendetta against the rightful Lord of the Dead, with blatant disregard for the consequences to the Balance. To reach a verdict, we must consider two-"
"If my crime is so terrible," Mystra snapped, "why haven't I been brought before Ao?"
Tyr scowled at the interruption, but Oghma looked up from his notes. "Your accuser demanded the greater powers sit as the jury," said the Patron of Bards. "As a member of the Circle, that was his right."
Oghma's voice was full of anger, a mob singing a bloody song at a lynching. The tone of it brought a look of disbelief to Mystra's eyes. "Did you have me summoned here?" she murmured. When the Binder shook his head, the goddess glanced at the other greater powers scattered around the pavilion floor. "Then who?"
"Can't you guess?" Cyric called from the mob of lesser powers and inhuman deities crowded in the tiers. He stood to face the Lady of Mysteries.
"And the rest of you took this seriously?" Mystra scoffed.
"Why not? I have proof enough to convict you three times over," Cyric purred. "You've done everything you can to prevent me from executing my office. I realize now the only way to save myself – and stop you from upsetting the Balance – is to ask for the Circle's help." He smirked. "You see, I can play by the rules, even if you won't."
"This is absurd," Mystra said. She summoned a spell to mind that would remove her and the caged inquisitors to Nirvana.
"Consider the trial more seriously, Lady," Oghma warned. "Your worshipers face total sanctions from the rest of the Circle if you don't cooperate."
The Goddess of Magic paused, stunned by the threat. Sanctions meant total isolation for her worshipers; the greater powers would deny her faithful the benefits of their offices. Lathander would stop the dawn from rising over church grounds, and Chauntea would prevent their crops from growing. Mystra's faithful would be refused entrance to the Fugue Plain if they died, and any knowledge preserved in their libraries would vanish. There was but one way for the mortals to escape these harsh measures: abandon their worship of the goddess. It wouldn't take long for most to turn away, and those few devout souls who didn't would soon perish. With no mortal worshipers, the Goddess of Magic would cease to exist.
"Cyric is using you against me," Mystra pleaded. "Can't you see that?"
"I'll have no part in judging the evidence," Cyric called. "I'm an innocent bystander. The wronged party, if you want to be totally accurate."
"So says the Prince of Lies," Tyr noted flatly from the podium. "Do not doubt that we listen for the ring of truth in each word you utter, Cyric. And as for you, Mystra, you should know that I will be a fair and just judge, conducting this trial in accordance with all the laws of the Balance, as decreed by Ao himself."
Tyr cleared his throat. "As I was saying, to reach a verdict we must consider two questions. First, did Mystra act beyond the demands of her office in battling the Lord of the Dead? Second, if this is true, did she endanger the Balance by doing so?" He gestured to Cyric. "You may state your case."
"With the inquisitors, I'd hoped to counter the heresy growing in my church,"