The figure who stepped forward from beside the bailiff as a witness was Tyrbel, wearing the black robe that he had told Kharl was for appearances before the justicers.
“State your name.”
“I am Tyrbel, scrivener of Brysta, your honor of justice.” The scrivener bowed deeply.
“What have you to say to what has been offered as evidence, master scrivener?”
“What I have to say, your honor of justice, is most plain.” Tyrbel looked squarely at the justicer. “Kharl could not have killed the blackstaffer. He is a good man, but there is another reason why he could not have killed her. She was still alive when he left his cooperage to fight the fire, and he was still with me and the others using the buckets when his consort came out to tell him that something terrible had happened.”
“How do you know the blackstaffer was still alive?” The justicer’s face bore more curiosity than anger.
“I saw her leaning on his workbench through the window when I called for help. She was still standing there when Kharl came out.”
“So your scriptorium was burning, and you had time to watch?” The justicer’s sarcasm was scarcely veiled.
Kharl looked at Tyrbel. The scrivener was perfectly calm. What Tyrbel said was true. Jenevra had been alive. But Tyrbel had not actually seen that, and Kharl had not talked to Tyrbel since the murder.
“I only watched for a moment. It was long enough to see that Kharl had heard and was coming to help.”
“Justicer?” interjected the clean-shaven and elderly man in the high seat, before another word could be said.
“Yes, Lord West?”
Lord West looked squarely at the scrivener. “Are you absolutely certain that the cooper could not have turned back and killed the blackstaffer?”
“Yes, Lord. I had barely reached the fire barrel when Kharl was beside me.”
“And he had no blood on him?” asked the lord.
“No, ser.”
“Does he wear the same garments now as then?”
Tyrbel turned and studied Kharl. “Yes, ser. They are more soiled, but they are the same.”
“I would note, Lord Justicer, that while there is filth on his tunic, there does not seem to be any blood.”
“It is so noted,” replied Reynol.
Lord West sat back, an amused expression on his face.
Kharl didn’t know what to think. One moment, he was convinced he would be hanged, and the next Lord West was suggesting that he could not have killed Jenevra.
“Jorum, priest of the Sovereign, please come forward.”
Father Jorum rose from one of the benches to the left and walked forward, past Kharl.
“I will not trouble you with reminders, Jorum. Just answer directly.”
“Yes, Lord Justicer.”
“What did the woman Charee say to you about the blackstaffer?”
“Very little, ser. She said that someone had been hurt and that she wanted them to finish recovering away from the cooperage.”
“Away from the cooperage? Did she say why?”
“She only said that she didn’t want the person to stay at the cooperage.”
“She gave no reason?”
“No, ser. Except she said that she was having trouble with Kharl over it. She said that she might ask me to talk to the cooper.”
“Did you?”
“No, ser. She never did ask me.”
“Has she talked to you since?”
“She came to me on sixday, and asked me what to do about her consort. She told me that the Watch had taken the body of the blackstaffer and that they had taken Kharl. She was very upset.”
“Did she say anything about the killing?”
“She only said that she wished it had not happened, that she wished the blackstaffer had never come to Brysta, and that she wished that she had not allowed the woman even in the cooperage.”
“Was that all?”
“She asked for me to pray for her and her children.”
“You may return to the bench, Jorum.”
The priest inclined his head, then stepped back.
“Captain Egen,” Reynol stated. “Approach the dais.”
Egen rose, almost languidly, and stepped forward, stopping and bowing.
“When you arrived with the Watch, Captain, did anyone have blood on their clothing?” asked the justicer.
Egen frowned for a moment, as if recalling, before speaking. “The cooper’s consort did. She was the only one. There was blood on her blouse.”
“Did you examine the body?”
“Yes, ser.”
“How was the blackstaffer killed?”
“The blackstaffer had a large jagged cut across her neck, ser.”
“A jagged cut?”
“Yes, ser.”
“Did you look at the barrels of the cooper?”
Kharl frowned. What did his barrels have to do with anything?
“Yes, ser.”
“Are they well made?”
“Very well made, ser, in my judgment, but I am not a cooper.”
“And the cooper was not ill or trembling, or drunk when your men took him into custody?”
“No, ser. He was quite in possession of himself.”
“You may stand back, captain.” The justicer looked to the bailiff. “Have the woman Charee step forward.”
Charee looked from the justicer to the bailiff before stepping toward the dais.
“Did you like the blackstaffer?”
Charee seemed to step back.
“Would you answer the question?”
“No, ser.”
“Why not?”
“They’re…”
“They’re what?”
“They’re evil…”
Reynol nodded. “Do you ever work with the cooper’s tools?”
“No, ser. I see ’em, but I don’t work with them.”
“Could you explain why you had blood on your blouse?”
“Blood…on me? ’Cause I saw her lyin’ there, and I bent down to see what was the matter. She was dead.”
“Are you certain of that?” asked the justicer.
“’Course she was dead.”
“I’ll ask you again. Are you certain the blackstaffer was dead?”
Kharl glanced from the justicer to his consort, and back again. He didn’t understand the questions, or the reason for them.
“She was dead.”
Reynol nodded, then gestured to the bailiff. “Restrain her.”
“No! I didn’t do nothing!” Charee protested, turning, then stopping as two armsmen appeared and bound her hands behind her back.
“The Hall of Justice has heard enough.”
“All stand!” The bailiff rapped the stone floor with the staff.
One of the armsmen had to drag Kharl to his feet. The cooper looked blankly at the justicer.
“There are a number of facts of great import here. First, the cooper was fighting the fire, and noted witnesses saw him doing so, and also saw the blackstaffer alive. Second, dead bodies do not bleed profusely. There may be some blood, but it is limited. Third, the slash on the blackstaffer’s neck was a jagged cut. Although the cut was made with a cooper’s knife, the cooper is a man skilled with the use of a knife, and the cut was made with a less skilled hand. Fourth, the cooper had no signs of blood on his tunic. Only one person did, and that person had to be the killer of the blackstaffer.”
“No!” Kharl exclaimed.
“Silence!”
“Keep your trap shut,” hissed one of the armsmen holding Kharl.
The justicer looked squarely at Charee. “You would have let your consort die for an act you committed. That is most heinous. You have been found guilty of the murder of the blackstaffer Jenevra.”
“No…no…” The slightest of sobs escaped Charee.
Reynol turned his eyes upon Kharl. “You did not kill, but you allowed the killing to take place. Further, you resisted the lawful authority of the Watch. Of both offenses are you guilty.” The justicer turned and looked to Lord West. “The woman Charee has been found guilty of murdering the backstaffer, and the cooper Kharl has been found guilty of failing to protect the defenseless under his care and of resisting lawful authority.”