A side door opened, and an old man and a decrepit white bat entered. A moment later an elderly woman appeared with several scrolls. All three took seats at the table. The woman, who seemed to be the head judge, took the center seat. She glanced back at the throne and addressed a guard.
"May we expect Queen Nerissa?" she asked.
"They are checking now to see if she has regained consciousness, your honor," said the guard.
The woman nodded, but Gregor could hear people in the crowd murmuring, probably about the frailty of their new queen. One glance from the head judge and the room fell silent. Gregor had the feeling that whoever she was, his life was in her hands.
For a few minutes, nothing much happened. The judges preoccupied themselves with examining the scrolls.
Gregor shifted his weight slightly from side to side. The rope was really biting into his wrists. He wondered if he could ask them to cut it loose or if that would be a major breach of court behavior. Well, it was worth a try.
"Excuse me, your honor?" he said. The judges all looked at him in surprise.
"Yes, Overlander?" said the woman.
"Do you think you could untie us now? I'm losing all the feeling in my fingers," said Gregor. "And they knotted the rope right over one of my squid-sucker sores. You can't see it, but Ares's whole back is covered with open wounds from those flesh-eating mites that killed Pandora. And Howard and Andromeda are pretty beat up, too."
Even if she said no, Gregor was still glad he'd spoken. He wanted them to know — all these idiots packing the seats, waiting for his death sentence — that he and Ares and Howard and Andromeda were the ones who had been out risking their lives. Suddenly he couldn't wait to testify.
"Cut free the defendants," the head judge said, and turned back to her scroll.
No one in the crowd dared object. A guard cut all their bonds. Gregor rubbed his wrists and glanced back to see that Howard was doing the same.
"Did Mareth make it?" he asked.
Howard's tormented face broke into a brief smile. "Yes. He will mend."
"I can't believe you kept him alive after that serpent attack!" said Gregor. He said "serpent attack" extra loud to make sure everyone heard, then turned back to the front before anyone could tell him to shut up. A guard hurried into the room and whispered something to the head judge.
"Very well," said the head judge. "We will begin." She cleared her throat and read off the series of charges against the defendants. The language was pretty complicated, but it all seemed to boil down to the fact that Gregor hadn't killed the Bane, and nobody else had, either.
The head judge finished the list of charges and looked up. "We will now question those on trial."
"Can I go first?" It burst out of Gregor before he could stop it, but suddenly he knew he had to. He could sense that Howard, Ares, and probably Andromeda were already convinced they were guilty. If they got up on the stand, they might not be able to defend themselves. He, on the other hand, was absolutely bubbling over with the injustice of the whole thing.
"Overlander," the head judge said firmly, "it is not our custom to shout out inquiries during a trial, especially one so serious in nature."
"Sorry," Gregor said, but he didn't hang his head or look away. "What should I do if I have a question, raise my hand? I mean, I don't have a lawyer or anything, right?"
"Raising your hand should be sufficient," the head judge said, ignoring his lawyer question.
He thought about raising his hand and asking if he could go first again. But that might seem snotty. Whether it was because he had asked or because he was already slated to do so, Gregor was called directly to the stand. He climbed the steps to the cube. It was designed so people could see any twitch, any shift in the defendant's body language. He felt very exposed.
Gregor expected to be bombarded with questions, like you saw on TV, but the judges merely settled back in their seats and looked at him.
"Tell us, then," said the head judge. "Tell us about your journey."
This threw him a little. "Where...where do you want me to start?"
"Start from the day you sailed away from Regalia," said the head judge.
So, he did. He told his story. And every chance he got, he made sure to emphasize the courage the others on trial had shown. When he got to the part at the Tankard, he said, "I made Howard leave. He didn't have any choice. I was going to fight him if he tried to come with us. I'd have fought Andromeda, too, she knew that. That's why they went home. How could they risk injuring me when I still had to kill the Bane?"
"And why did you not want them to accompany you?" said the old bat judge.
Gregor had a moment of confusion. "Because...I don't know...because we needed to get Mareth back, for one thing. And I didn't want a whole bunch of people in that maze, I guess. I wanted my family to know what had happened to my sister...and me, if I didn't come back. And because...because..." He spun back in his mind to the cave, to the ice that had engulfed him. "Because the Bane was mine."
A gasp rose from the crowd at his insolence.
"What do you mean, the Bane was yours?" asked the bat.
"It was mine to kill. That's what your prophecy says, right? I'm the guy who's supposed to kill it? In the end, it was always my job," said Gregor. "And it was my call, who I wanted to take into that maze — not yours." He paused. "Anyway, if you kill Howard and Andromeda because they came back, that's just murder. Nobody could have done better than they did."
He looked over to where the others stood. It was hard to read Andromeda, but she did shake her wings a little. Howard's lips silently formed a couple of words. Gregor was pretty sure they were "thank you." Maybe he'd made a convincing enough argument to keep them alive.
"Go on with your story. What happened after your company parted ways?" asked the head judge.
Gregor took a deep breath. This part was going to be harder. He told about entering the Labyrinth, having to leave Twitchtip behind, finding the cone, and witnessing the bloody fight between Goldshard and Snare. There was a reaction from the crowd again. Gregor suspected they were happy that Snare was dead.
Just then Nerissa appeared in the doorway, leaning heavily on Vikus's arm. Her coronation gown was lopsided, and stray braids hung out of her hairdo. There was not even the suggestion of a crown — no tiara, no gold band — on her head. She kept squinting, as if she were in bright sunlight.
It took Vikus and a pair of guards to help her up onto the throne. She swayed slightly, even when she was seated, as if at any moment she might plunge to the ground.
"Queen Nerissa, are you well enough to attend this trial?" the head judge asked in a neutral tone.
"Oh, yes," said Nerissa. "I have seen myself here before, although I do not know the outcome."
This was the sort of stuff that made everybody think she was crazy. Maybe someone ought to tell her to keep her visions under her hat. Crown. Whatever.
"The charge is treason?" Nerissa said doubtfully, and Gregor realized she had no idea what was going on.
The head judge said slowly, "Yes, the defendants are on trial for treason."
Nerissa stared at an empty spot on the wall for a moment, then shook her head. "Forgive me. I have only just awoken."
"Do you wish us to begin the proceedings again?" asked the head judge.
"Oh, no, please continue," said Nerissa. She knotted up her hands in her skirt, hiking it up above her knees. Another braid sprang free from its pins and fell down the side of her face. Her whole body was shaking.
The head judge looked over at Vikus, who avoided her gaze and busied himself placing his cloak around Nerissa's shoulders.
The queen gave him a smile. "I wish I had some soup."