The Magehound - Elaine Cunningham [49]
He quickly dressed and made his way to the large high-domed building that housed the jordaini court. The entrance hall was round, and in the floor was set with mosaic tile the emblem of the jordaini: a circle that was half yellow and half green, the colors separated by a lighting bolt of blue. Matteo rubbed at the empty spot on his chest where his medallion usually hung, then took a long, steadying breath and strode through the hall toward the council chamber.
The Disputation Table was not only the name of the court, but a literal table, a huge structure comprising two very long tables connected at the far end by a smaller raised table. At this high place sat Dimidis, the judge who would render a verdict. The other masters and the jordaini students sat around the outer rims of the long tables. They all regarded him with somber faces.
Matteo had been in attendance during many sessions, for the court was a busy place and was often called upon to interpret a jordain's advice to his patron, as well as to deal with occasional disputes between jordaini and the less frequent infraction of rules.
But the vast, hollow room had never seemed so ominous as it did now.
Matteo held his chin high as he walked down the long center aisle to stand before Dimidis, painfully aware with each step of the eyes upon him.
The aged judge was one of the few jordaini who took his status from his own position, rather than that of a patron. Dimidis was known for his stern and often inflexible judgments, as well as his tendency to form opinions and dislikes with distressing haste. Judging from the sour expression on the man's lined face, Matteo guessed that he had earned the judge's enmity.
Dimidis rattled a sheaf of parchment. "We've all read of this young man's misdeeds: tavern brawling, destroying property, attacking a magehound's guard.
He attended a performance that mocked the jordaini and then aided the performer's escape. He has fought a duel with a weapon proscribed to his classa stolen weapon, which was later found in his possession. When questioned in the hold, he defied the magistrate and refused to name the thief. This name would have been taken from him through Inquisition but for the intervention of the Inquisitrix Kiva."
The old man stopped and glared at the assembly. "These are the charges against Matteo of House Jordain. Who, if any, will speak for him?"
"I, Lord Dimidis."
Matteo was grateful but not particularly surprised to see his favorite master, Vishna, the battle wizard, rise to speak.
"Like many of the students, Matteo went to Khaerbaal with a heavy heart.
You know that Andris, a close friend to Matteo, was slain that morning at the command of the magehound Kiva."
"Which was both her function and her right," Dimidis pointed out. "Continue."
"I sent Matteo to the city, knowing that some of the students would find outlets for their grief. If mischief came of it, I am in part to blame. Indeed, I expressly requested that Matteo watch over one of his fellows. This he did admirably. The other student returned to us on time, unscathed and held blameless for his actions. It was he who started the tavern brawl and Matteo who ended it."
"The deeds of one jordain reflect upon us all. That is why this court exists.
Matteo did no more than his duty."
"That is my point," the wizard said earnestly. "This young jordain did his duty and did it well, despite his personal sorrow. If he was perhaps a bit impulsive in his subsequent actions, surely we can consider the circumstances."
The judge looked at the battle wizard as if he had been speaking Turmish, or Common, or some other barbarian tongue. "Is that all? Have you nothing relevant to add?"
For a moment the wizard stared incredulously. "Apparently not," Vishna said shortly and sat down with an abruptness that spoke more of anger than defeat.
To Matteo's surprise, Ferris Grail was the next