Book 4 - The Fire in His Hands by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online Page A

just how gross a mistake your prank was.”
    “Fuad’s coming.”
    “So he is. And he looks like an old cat licking cream off her whiskers. It went well, Fuad?”
    “Beautifully, teacher. Old Aboud isn’t as stupid as I thought. He saw the chance right away.”
    Fuad’s grin vanished. “You may be called to testify.”
    “Then, perhaps, we may be friends no more. I am of the Rebsamen, Fuad. I cannot lie.”
    “Were we ever friends?” Fuad demanded as he entered the tent.
    A chill stalked down Radetic’s spine. He was not a brave man.
    He was disgusted with himself. He knew that he would lie if Yousif pressed him hard
    enough.
    The court was convened as the traditional Disharhun Court of Nine, the supreme court of
    Hammad al Nakir. Three jurists were provided by the Royal Household, and another three by the Shrine priests. A final three were common pilgrims selected at random from among the hosts
    come for the High Holy Days.
    It was a stacked court. El Murid was down eight votes before a shred of evidence had been
    presented.
    Someone had bandanged Haroun heavily. He had been coached quickly and well. He lied
    with a straight face and defiantly traded stares with El Murid and Nassef.
    Radetic nearly shrieked in protest when the Court voted to deny a request for permission to
    cross-examine.
    A parade of pilgrims testified after Haroun stepped down. Their testimony bore little
    relation to the truth of what had happened. It seemed, instead, to follow religious predilection.
    No one mentioned seeing a peashooter or dart.
    Radetic already knew this phase of desert justice well. He had reviewed judicial sessions at
    el Aswad. The disposition of most cases seemed to depend on which adversary could muster the
    most relatives to lie for him.
    Megelin dreaded having to give his own testimony. His conscience had been ragging him
    mercilessly. He feared he would not be able to lie.
    He was spared the final crisis of conscience. Yousif had passed the word. He was not called.
    He sat restlessly, and seethed. Such a travesty! The outcome was never in doubt. The decision had been made before the judges heard the charges. . . .
    What were the charges? Radetic suddenly realized that they had not been formally declared.
    They were trying El Murid. Charges did not matter.
    El Murid rose. “A petition, my lord judges.”
    The chief judge, one of Aboud’s brothers, looked bored. “What is it this time?”
    “Permission to call additional witnesses.”
    The judge sighed and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his left hand. “This could go on
    all day.” He was speaking to himself, but half the audience heard him plainly. “Who?”
    “My wife.”
    “A woman?”
    A murmur of amazement ran through the gallery.
    “She is the daughter of a chieftain. She is of the el Habib, who are of the same blood as the Quesan.”
    “Nevertheless, a woman. And one disowned by her family. Do you mock this Court? Do you
    compound your crimes by trying to make a farce of the administration of justice? Your request is denied.”
    Radetic’s disgust neared the explosive point. And yet . . . to his amazement, he saw that even the El Murid factionalists in the audience were appalled by their prophet’s suggestion.
    Megelin shook his head sadly. There was no hope for these savages.
    Fuad pushed a stiffened finger into his ribs. “Keep still, teacher.”
    The chief judge rose less than two hours after the trial’s commencement. Without consulting
    his fellows privately, he announced, “Micah al Rhami. Nassef, once ibn Mustaf el Habib. It is the judgment of this Court that you are guilty. Therefore, this Court of Nine orders that you be
    banned forever from all Royal lands and protection, all holy places and protection, and from the Grace of God—unless a future Court of Nine shall find cause for commutation or pardon.”
    Radetic smiled sardonically. The sentence amounted to political and religious
    excommunication—with an out. All El Murid