"A mistake," Alben whispered again, trembling.
Lifting a sheaf of papers from the box, Barien continued, "Among the documents in this box found upon
your person at the time of your arrest are letters and copies of letters. In short, forgeries. Specific charges against you are as follows: first, that you were instrumental in the slander and wrongful condemnation of an innocent and loyal servant of Her Majesty, Queen Idrilain the Second." Barien paused to select two letters. "Found in your possession is the duplicate of a letter purportedly written by Lord Vardarus i Boruntas Lud Mirin of Rhнminee, the very letter which sent Lord Vardarus to the block. With it, secured with a wax seal identified as your own, was found another, nearly identical letter entirely lacking in the details which damned him."
Barien lifted another bundle of papers from the box. "Secondly, you are charged with collusion to perpetrate the same heinous crime against Lord Seregil i Korit Solun Meringil Bokthersa. I myself received a letter identical to the one which I hold here, a letter bearing Lord Seregil's signature and sealed with Lord Seregil's mark. In this letter are statements which suggest he was plotting sedition and treason against Skala. Yet here, in addition to the duplicate, I find another letter bearing the identical salutation, signature, and seals, which is in every way innocent in content."
Honed by years of practice, the Viceregent's voice echoed around the cold chamber. "I caution you to speak the truth, Alben the Apothecary. How plead you in the face of this evidence?"
"I–I heard a noise. Last night I heard a noise!" stammered the wretched man. "I went down and found that box. Someone must have thrown it in my window! When I heard the soldiers I panicked, great lord, most honored Queen!"
Standing behind the accused man, Imaneus shook his head.
Impassive as the marble statues of her ancestors, Idrilain signaled to the bailiff, who strode to a side door and knocked. Two warders escorted in an immensely fat woman in a garish brocade robe.
"Ghemella, gem cutter of Dog Street," announced the bailiff.
Catching sight of Alben, Ghemella screeched out, "You tell 'em, Alben, you tell how I only did the seal work! You miserable bastard, you tell 'em I didn't know no more of it than that!"
The accused man buried his face in his hands with a loud moan.
"Bailiff, speak the sentence for forging the documents or seals of a noble," the Queen ordered, looking sternly at the miserable pair trembling before her.
"The sentence is death by torture," announced the woman.
Alben groaned again, rocking miserably on his knees.
"My Queen, I am here at your own summons. Might I speak?" asked Nysander.
"I always value your council, Nysander i Azusthra."
"My Queen, I suggest that it is unlikely that these two acted on their own, but at the behest of another," said Nysander, choosing his words carefully.
"It is certain that Lord Seregil was not approached for the purpose of blackmail, nor was there any such evidence in the case of the late Lord Vardarus. Had these two been acting on their own, surely that would have been their motive."
Phoria bristled visibly. "Surely you're not suggesting that it would in any way mitigate the severity of their offense?"
"Certainly not, Your Highness," Nysander replied gravely. "I only wish to point out that the person who would orchestrate such a deception represents a far greater threat. Should it be determined, as I suspect it will, that the same person is behind the slandering of both Lord Vardarus and Lord Seregil, then we must learn what motivated them to so desperate a course of action."
"We shall have that information out of these two soon enough!"
Barien said, glowering.
"With all respect, my Lord Viceregent, information gained under torture is not always reliable, even with a wizard in attendance. Pain and fear cloud the mind, making it difficult to read with any certainty."
"I am quite aware of your theories regarding torture," Barien returned stiffly. "What is your point?"
"My point, Lord Barien, is that this whole matter is far too grave to trust to such methods. Reprehensible as I find the actions of these creatures, they are inconsequential pawns in a greater game. It is their master whom we must run to ground at all costs."
As he'd expected, Barien and Phoria still looked dubious but Idrilain nodded approvingly.
"And what is your alternative?" she asked.
"Your Majesty, I humbly suggest that should you, in your great mercy, commute the sentence of the condemned to banishment in exchange for a full and free confession, then we may be a good deal better off in the end. Imaneus can validate whatever information they give."
Idrilain looked to the younger wizard.
"I have always concurred with Nysander's opinions regarding confession under torture, my Queen," said Imaneus.
With a humorless smile, Idrilain turned back to the accused, speaking directly to them for the first time.
"What will it be, you two? Full confession for the loss of your right hand and exile-or a red-hot pike up your miserable backsides?"
"Confession, great Queen, confession!" croaked Alben. "I don't know the man's name and I never asked. He had the look of a noble but I'd never seen him before and he hadn't a Rhнminee accent. But it was the same one both times, for the letters-forgeries, that is-against Vardarus and Lord Seregil."
"The truth so far, my Queen," announced Imaneus.
"What other forgeries did you execute for this man?" demanded the Queen.
"Shipping manifests, mostly," quavered Alben, staring miserably at the floor. "And—" He faltered to a halt, trembling more violently than ever.
"Out with it, man. What else?" barked Barien.
"Two-two Queen's Warrants," whispered Alben, naming the document that allowed the bearer access anywhere in the land, including the Palace itself.
"You admit to forging the signature of the Queen herself!" Phoria burst out furiously. "When was this?"
Alben quailed miserably. "Three years ago, it must be now. They weren't any good, though, when I delivered them."
"Why not?" Barien's voice betrayed nothing, but Nysander was surprised to note that the Viceregent had gone quite pale. Phoria also seemed shaken.
"They hadn't any seals yet," whined the wretched man. "I don't know where he meant to get them. I never kept any copies of the warrants, Your Highness, I swear! Let this wizard be my witness, I knew better than to mess with those!"
"And they never got no Queen's Seal from me, I swear by the Four!" Ghemella chimed in. Again, Imaneus indicated that the truth had been spoken.
"When did this occur?" Barien asked again.
"Three years ago last Rhythin, my lord."
"Are you certain? Surely you've done hundreds of forgeries. How is it that you recall this particular one so clearly?"
"It's partly the warrants, my lord. It's not every day you get a chance at something like that," Alben quavered.
"But there was the manifest business, too. One of them was for a ship called the White Hart, registered out of Cirna. I recall it because I did a favor for my neighbor, putting his lad's name on the crew list. Only, you see, the ship went down with all hands in the first of the autumn storms less than a month later. The boy was lost."
"You're certain of the name? The White Hart " asked Phoria.
"Yes, Highness. I don't recall the other vessels, but I know that one. I watched the port lists for months, hoping she'd turn up and the boy with her. My neighbor's never spoken to me since over it. Anyway, this man who came to me? He wanted a few other things over the years, manifests mostly, until last spring. Late one night in Nythin he came saying he had a letter he wanted altered and could I do it? The very letter you have there, Majesty, belonging to Lord Vardarus. For one hundred gold sesters I made him two copies with the changes. Ghemella did the seals, like always."