The Diamond - J. Robert King [7]
Again, the grudging reply, "Aye."
Nesher grinned, victory gleaming in his eyes. "And here is the Open Lord, the one man in all Waterdeep who alone holds the power to commute a sentence. What say you, Piergeiron Paladinson? Speak, if you would commute the sentence of death laid upon this man!"
The Open Lord was silent in his casket of glass.
After a tense moment of waiting, hoping somehow that the still form of the paladin would rise and speak, the crowd shouted its support.
Lasker Nesher cried out, "Guards, bear this man to the dungeon to await hanging, drawing, and quartering at the break of day!"
Into the roar that followed, Khelben cried, "When did the jewel of Faerыn come to be run by mob justice?"
Nesher rounded on him, eyes smug in his deceitful face. "You're not Open Lord, mage. As you yourself contend, Piergeiron remains Open Lord until declared dead. Until then, only he can commute the sentence of the Magisters!"
He pointed to Trandon, who had stood silently chained though it all. "And what; of this other one?" he cried hungrily. "What is his crime?"
Noph and Kern traded reluctant glances.
"Tell us," Nesher commanded. "Tell the people of Waterdeep, or face their judgment yourselves!"
"He posed as a paladin, that's all," Noph said. "Though he's as worthy of the title as I am."
"'Posed as a paladin'?" crowed Nesher. "What is he really?"
When neither Noph or Kern would elaborate, Trandon himself said, "I'm a wizard. A War Wizard."
"A spy!" shouted Nesher. "A Cormyrean spy. An agent of Azoun in our midst. Treason! Let him die with the assassin. All in favor?"
The restored chapel-white marble, bleached oak, glowing gold, and all-shook with the thunderous voice of the mob. "Aye!"
"Away with them both! And in the morning, let us cheer again when their bodies are riven and piked in our midst!"
It seemed that only Khelben, Kern, and Noph did not cheer.
Chapter 2
A Trial for Noph
The dungeon bustled that evening. Watchmen in plenty paced beneath ceilings dripping with fungus, condensation beaded across their shoulder plates. Lantern light flickered across gritted teeth. Aside from the pad of leather soles on wet floors, though, silence reigned.
The center two cells held prisoners-men slated to die in the morning. Cells across a corridor from each other, watched over by two dozen restless armsmen… and one young man just returned from Doegan. Noph had volunteered for guard duty, hoping to meet Khelben and plead for the prisoners' lives.
Where was the Lord Mage? He was supposed to seal the cells with warding magic.
Noph leaned against the wall beside Entreri's cell, thoughts racing. He remembered this dungeon; he'd been imprisoned here. He'd stared at these very stones for the better part of an evening. His fingers had traced their shapes as he'd imagined their origins. Mined from black bedrock, lifted into the glaring sun, sawed and sliced into unnatural blocks with unforgiving edges, hauled down into another pit, stacked, mortared, compressed, compelled into walls designed to hold living flesh until it died, if need be. Something similar had happened to him. It had begun a month ago, on the wedding night, when Noph had stayed in this very cell and been called "assassin."
Noph peered again through the bars of Entreri's cell. The small man was still sprawled motionless on a pile of old straw; a man he'd once followed, once wanted to emulate. An assassin.
Was a man an assassin when he sought to kill a shapeshifting monster? That's what Eidola was, after all. Of course, Entreri hadn't known that. He'd have tried to kill her even if she'd been Piergeiron's true bride. Was a man an assassin when he didn't kill the person he'd intended to? How could Waterdeep execute a man for not assassinating someone? How could it be justice when a man was tried and convicted by a mob? Was it enough that Entreri was known to be an assassin? Should a man be executed on the basis