His fury was real. It astonished him.

He said, “I remember Messire Cassin from my days at the university. I studied the law with him. I had—and have—nothing but respect for his skill as an advocate. Alas, today, I have an equal disdain for his betrayal of Ferrieres.”

“What!” cried Cassin from behind him.

Thierry heard him stand. “Your majesty, I must—”

“Messire, you have had a goodly interval to make your case. Be seated and let someone else make theirs.” Queen Bianca was not, Thierry thought, mincing words. “I still do not really know the provost’s advocate…” she said. “Marina?”

Thierry saw Marina di Seressa lean forward then and whisper to the queen. He saw the woman on the throne raise her eyebrows. “Ah. Yes. I remember now. We have heard tell of you, Thierry Villar…in other contexts. We await your submission to us. Continue.”

“I am honoured beyond words,” Thierry said. “I will add, lest my old teacher feel singled out, that I am equally disappointed in the advocate who spoke after my old instructor Cassin. There may be reasons why he took so much time to say nothing…but he said nothing. Among other things I will note that what happened in the street that night was not a matter. It was a murder. An assassination.”

If, Thierry thought, he was going to be killed today, or hanged on Gallows Hill soon, he’d do so leaving words that might be remembered. He had said before there needed to be a record. There would be. He’d have preferred his own last words be poetry, and perhaps to have had a chance to say some goodbyes. Maybe that would be allowed? But standing there, hands gripping the cold stone of the lectern, he did not expect to live past nightfall, or even through the hours left of Jad’s pale sun shining on a winter’s day.

He cleared his throat, more for attention than anything else, though he was aware from the quality of the silence that he had the attention of the room. He really did know audiences. This was just another one of those, he told himself again.

He said, “It is always pleasing to hear a learned advocate make reference to the Ancients. It shows that such knowledge is not dead in these times. But, as to Aristimedes, please, please let us remember that he also had an army, and allies, and could have caused a civil war for control of Rhodias.”

He paused. Let no one here miss the point of this for today, he thought, as to the Duke de Barratin and his threatened forces. He even turned and looked back at Denis Cassin, for greater emphasis. The advocate’s face had accomplished a shade one might have called white-green.

Thierry turned back. He said, “He did not summon an army, Aristimedes, nor did he flee the city. He yielded his person and his sword, submitted himself to justice, admitted the nature of the crime he’d done, the murder, and vowed by the gods the Ancients worshipped to accept the verdict of Rhodias and the judgment of history. He was tried, convicted, and executed.”