‘Again, enough!’ thundered Eldric, resting his hand on his axe. ‘You try the patience of the people, Lord Dan-Tor. If you abuse the form again I’ll slay you where you stand, unarmed or no.’
An awesome silence fell on the crowd such was the weight of his anger and, for an instant, Eldric saw Dan-Tor’s eyes flash red in the gloom beneath his cowl. For a brief instant the sight filled Eldric with an appalling and unreasoning fear and it was only with great effort that he did not turn and flee. Yes, he thought, whoever you are, let’s see if this day can bring your true nature before the people. ‘Now hear me in silence, as I in turn will listen to your Accounting.’
Then came his charges: suspension of the Geadrol; formation of a King’s High Guard; disbandment of the Lords’ High Guards; armed expeditions into Orthlund and attacks upon its people; arbitrary arrest and imprisonment of the Lords; threatened execution of Jaldaric after secret trial; appointment of himself as Ffyrst. Then came the final charge: the training, arming and use of Mandrocs against Fyordyn.
The mounting murmur of approval from the crowd that had accompanied each charge stopped suddenly with a noise like the hiss of a descending sword blade.
Dan-Tor felt the impact of the crowd’s reaction. A serious problem, Dilrap had said. The words came back to Dan-Tor with a dark irony. Ah, Hawklan, he thought, I misjudged you again. It was a cast well worth the sacrifice of your Eldric. For an instant he felt the edifice of his years of scheming totter and shake. Such an announcement as Eldric had made could bring the stunned crowd on to him like wolves on to a downed prey. That would leave him only the Old Power. And where are you, Hawklan… Ethriss? Did you truly leave the City? Or are you waiting nearby for the touch of my folly to awaken you? Trapped. Dan-Tor swayed slightly as aeons of darkness opened before him.
‘Your answer, Lord.’ Eldric’s voice reached through to him. Patience, came a thought from deep within.
Dan-Tor brought his mind sharply to the present and, under the shade of his cowl, he scanned the waiting crowd. Another irony began to unfold itself. Eldric was to be his unwitting saviour. The man’s majestic presence as a protector of the Law was tempering the crowd’s baser nature. They had not fallen on him immediately. The form would be observed. They would stand and listen. Dan-Tor felt the darkness move imperceptibly from him. Patience. Time would be everything.
Slowly, he began to reply to the charges. First in broad and general terms, and then working repeatedly over each in turn, in ever-increasing detail. The crisis passed.
In the crowd were two Goraidin, Yengar and Olvric, sent by Yatsu, unbeknown to Eldric, to report on the Accounting. After a while they exchanged glances. Dan-Tor’s tactics were becoming clear. Having survived the first and most serious part of the confrontation, he would weary the crowd and wear Eldric down with interminable argument, until exhaustion determined the outcome.
It was an effective tactic. As the day progressed the crowd gradually thinned and Eldric himself began to feel very weary. His concentration wandered. He wished Darek could have been by his side to bolster him against the bombardment of petty items that Dan-Tor assailed him with. He longed for the comfortable debating chambers of the Geadrol. Then Dan-Tor would be off on another tack. Stretching out explanations and prece-dents until they became lost in a cloud of detail.
It came to Eldric slowly that he had misjudged his opponent. The man was appallingly formidable. Eldric had chosen this Accounting almost on impulse, hoping that his oratory and the blatant justice of his case would see him through. But Dan-Tor picked away relentlessly; confusing, obfuscating, corroding his arguments.
Eldric looked down at the lengthening afternoon shadows and realized abruptly that he was going to lose. The Fyordyn had listened patiently, as he knew they would. And they were judging, as he knew they must. But this form of debate was ancient and, at heart, crude. From it had grown the Geadrol and the Law with their elaborate and sophisticated ways, but it was a meagre parent to such fine children, and now he saw the obvious. In this simple arena the people could only judge the matter on the skill of the advocates, not on its merits painstakingly and objectively examined.
He felt that he had betrayed the people again, and it was only a monumental effort of will that kept the self-reproach from his face.
Dan-Tor, however, sensed him failing. ‘Lord Eldric,’ he said. ‘I’ve shown you every courtesy, but I’m wearying of this endless picking over trivia. I am Ffyrst, and I’ve given you the reasons for this as determined by the Law and by the necessity of circumstances. I’ve answered each of your baseless accusations fully, in front of all the people here, when I should have had you arrested.’ He paused to feel the mood of the crowd.
Slowly it had changed. Now doubts, bewilderment and fatigue mixed liberally with the partisanship that had initially been almost totally Eldric’s. And there was increasing support for himself among the more foolish elements, aided by some calculated noisiness and irresponsibility emanating, he judged, from men that Urssain had placed in the crowd earlier.
In the tone of an affectionate parent whose patience had been tried too far by an erring child, he said, ‘You mock the Law you pretend to defend, Lord Eldric. Had you any real regard for it, you’d not have taken such pains to escape lawful detention before a trial could be arranged and, given that the aberration mightn’t have been totally of your own making, you would now lay down your weapons and return to the King’s custody in peace and await his will.’
After so many hours of debate and argument, Eldric was in no mood to countenance such a device. ‘You ignore the form again, Lord Dan-Tor, as you did at the beginning. You’ve answered none of my charges. Not one. At best you’ve thrown up a cloud of trivialities to obscure the real nature of your crimes. Your sole object has been to confuse and mislead. If my own inadequate advocacy hasn’t served me well, it’s at least shown the people here that while I strive towards the truth for them, you wish them to remain in confused ignorance.’
There was a mixture of cheering and jeering from the crowd and Eldric winced inwardly as he felt the rightness of his case fading into the darkness cast by Dan-Tor.
‘If you believe that, Lord Eldric, then let the people judge us both now,’ shouted Dan-Tor, sweeping his long left arm across the crowd. This provoked more noise.
‘No!’ roared Eldric above the clamour. ‘No. How can the people judge when so much has yet to be presented? You weave fifty lies for every one you affect to refute.’ He stood up in his saddle, his blazing eyes peering relentlessly into the gloom of Dan-Tor’s cowl.
Dan-Tor started. It was a look he had not seen since he battled by the side of his Master, wielding world-shattering power against the Demons of the Great Alliance and all their forces.
The line still runs then, he thought. Through all this time. ‘I’m not to be assailed, Lord Eldric.’ His voice rumbled ominously.
The crowd fell suddenly silent, but Eldric did not yield. ‘I don’t assail you, Lord Dan-Tor,’ he said. ‘It’s the weight of your crimes that assails you. The weight which will crush you when the people learn of them fully.’ A tension began to build in the square. ‘And they shall know, Lord Dan-Tor. I’ll shine a light into every cranny of your dark Narsindal-misted soul. I’ll untangle your every lie in front of these people, if I’ve to stay here on this horse until the Second Coming.’
Urssain shifted his feet wearily and fidgeted with his hands. Abruptly, there was uproar in the crowd. Seeing the hand signal, Urssain’s men in the crowd began shouting noisily.
‘It appears the people wish to make their judgement now, Lord Eldric,’ Dan-Tor said.
Eldric’s expression changed to an angry scowl as he turned to look at the crowd. ‘Your Mathidrin agitators wish to make a judgement you mean,’ he said.