Listening to this made Terisa feel sick.
The pain in Geraden’s eyes was acute, but he said nothing.
When Master Eremis was done, the rest of the Imagers were slow to speak. A few of them looked shocked. More were relieved, however, as if they had been rescued from believing that a member of the Congery had betrayed them. And some were plainly delighted by the prospect of finally being rid of Geraden.
After a moment, however, a slightly cross-eyed young Master countered, “But this is inconsistent, Master Eremis. If I understand rightly, it is Geraden who has kept the lady alive by providing her with defenders.”
“Nonsense,” retorted Master Eremis shortly. “The guards he first arranged for her could not be a match for the High King’s Monomach. And since then his duplicity has been more profound than you realize. He has put Artagel at the lady’s side so that Mordant’s best swordsman might also be killed, thus freeing Cadwal of two important enemies with one betrayal.”
“You can’t believe that!” Geraden’s protest was like a groan. At once, however, he closed his mouth again.
“No, Geraden.” Master Barsonage heaved his bulk upright. His gaze lingered momentarily, sadly, on Terisa. “I do not believe that.” His face had the color and texture of prolonged strain. “The truth is that I do not believe anything I have heard here. You and Master Eremis denounce each other as though what you say cannot be doubted, but you do not answer the most important question, the question on which all else stands or falls. You do not explain why.
“Why does the High King’s Monomach go to such lengths to attack the lady Terisa? Why does Master Eremis wish her killed?” Over his shoulder, he demanded, “Master Eremis, why does Geraden wish her killed?” Then he addressed the Congery. “Nothing that these men have said has any meaning unless they can tell us why.”
Before either accuser could answer, Terisa stood up. “I’ll tell you why.” A shiver ran through her voice – a shiver of anger rather than of cold. She wasn’t cold: she was sure. The frustrating certainty that she hadn’t been able to name was suddenly clear. “I’ll tell you exactly why.” If he had not been rescued— She wasn’t talking about Master Barsonage’s question; she had no answer to that. But it gave her a way to say what she meant.
“Geraden doesn’t have any reason to ant me dead. He’s spent enough time with me since I got here to know I’m no threat to anybody. If he were in league with Gart, I would never be attacked. He wouldn’t risk the High King’s Monomach on someone like me.
“But Master Eremis has a reason.”
The Master sat up straighter. He appeared to be taken aback. “My lady,” he said wonderingly, “I have saved your life. I have done everything a man can do to gain your love. How can you think that I wish you harm?”
She wanted to throw up. “Because I know you’re lying.”
At that, his expression darkened. She heard a hiss of indrawn breath from the Imagers behind her as he rose ominously to his feet. “Be sure of what you say, my lady,” he murmured in warning.
“I’m sure,” she flung back at him. Pressure mounted in her voice. She didn’t want to yell, but she needed passion to control her fear, to keep her going despite the fact that she had never defied anyone like this before and didn’t believe she could do it, certainly not Master Eremis, he was too much for her, he was like her father, he had been too much for her from the start. “You know all about the attack after the meeting. I told you that. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But you left without coming to see me again.” If he had not been rescued— “I never had a chance to tell you about the attacks on Geraden. Who told you about them?
“You could know about those riders in the woods. That’s common knowledge now. Anybody could have told you.” —rescued as he was, I assure you— “But you knew about the first time, too.”
Master Eremis stared at her as if she had caught him completely by surprise.
“Nobody knew about that except Artagel, Geraden, and me. And Adept Havelock. He didn’t tell you.” Master Eremis had made a mistake. Under the pressure of Geraden’s accusations, he had made a mistake. “Artagel told the Castellan.” Lebbick nodded shortly. “None of us told you. You weren’t here. But you still said that attack was just a ploy. You knew all about it. You said, ‘If he had not been rescued as he was, I assure you that they would have recalled their insects before he was slain.’
“You said ‘their insects.’ How did you know he was attacked by insects?”
A light of amazement and vindication broke across Geraden’s face.
Struggling for self-control, she concluded, “You’re trying to accuse Geraden for the same reason you want me dead. Because we’re dangerous to you. We know you’re the traitor.”
For just a moment, Master Eremis continued to gape. Then he began chuckling.
His mirth didn’t sound particularly cheerful.
“My lady,” he said, “you are outrageous. You told me about the attack yourself.”
“That’s another lie,” she shot back in fury.
“No, my lady. The lie is yours. I had the story from your lips between kisses.”
“I don’t think so, Master Eremis.” Geraden stood at Terisa’s side. Her audacity had galvanized him: he was poised for battle, and his eyes burned. “She doesn’t have any reason to lie. She doesn’t have anything to gain here.”
“Does she not?” Master Eremis’ mouth twisted scornfully. “You are naive, boy – or a fool. You are her reason. She has you to gain.”
That argument stopped Terisa: it set her back on her heels, like a dash of cold water in her face. It was true—
It was true enough to make her look foolish.
Nevertheless it was a miscalculation. Before Eremis could go on, several of the Masters burst out laughing.
“With your reputation for women?” said the Imager with the bad teeth. “Do you ask us to credit that she prefers Geraden fumble-foot?”
“I would not have believed any other proof,” another Master put in, “but I believe this. If Master Eremis is reduced to claiming that he could not win a woman away from the Apt, then there is no truth in him.”
“On the contrary,” someone else returned uproariously. “If Master Eremis is reduced to admitting that he could not win a woman away from the Apt, then he must be speaking the truth.”
“Enough!” barked Master Eremis. He slashed the air with his hands, demanding silence. “I have endured enough!”
His shout made the walls ring fiercely. The fury in his voice and the relish in his eyes stilled the room, commanding everyone’s attention.
“It is intolerable that all my service to Mordant and the Congery is met with distrust. It is intolerable that any of you will believe this weak boy when I am accused. Now I will prove what I say. I will ask Nyle to speak.”
The Masters stared. Geraden opened his mouth, closed it again; the color seeped out of his skin. Down inside her, Terisa’s shivering suddenly got worse.
Master Quillon cocked his head reflectively. After a moment, he commented in a tone that almost sounded threatening, “For the sake of everyone here, Master Eremis, I hope that you are sure of what he will say.”
“I am sure.” Eremis’ certainty was absolute, as unshakable as his grin.
Everyone looked at Nyle.
Geraden’s brother seemed unaware of what was going on. His dejected posture didn’t shift: his head didn’t rise. The grimace that distorted his features was as deep as despair.
Abruptly, he turned and whispered in Castellan Lebbick’s ear.