But for once Khaisan's failure was due not to any incompetence or indolence on his part. Who was he to call as witness when there were none? Dhvani's guilt could be not suppressed.

'The rajini has left me little to work with,' he admitted through grit teeth. 'It is as you say. Rajini Dhvani has invoked her right for trial without participation—naturally has she declined to be brought forward for questioning. I call only her silver-servant forth.'

Silence filled the room as from one corner of the chamber, Arya was brought marching in, his hands bound in theurgic cuffs. Chains rattled against the floor as he walked, escorted by four soldiers.

The dungeons had not been kind to him. His cheeks had grown more hollow than before. Dark circles ringed his sunken eyes, but there was still a keen bite to them when he faced the dais.

His guards pushed him into his seat before clearing off to the sides.

'State your name and position.' It was Persi who spoke.

'Arya Durajat, a servant of Her Honourable Consort, Rajini Dhvani, of sixteen years.' His voice was even and betrayed no hint of fear or concern.

'You were with your mistress at the time of Rajini Amarin's death?'

'I was.'

'Tell us where you were.'

'We were at the dungeons, maharaj.' No hesitation or equivocations. Did Kiet even detect a hint of pride in his voice? 'In the late rajini's labyrinths, to be precise.'

'You do not deny that you were present during Rajini Amarin's murder?'

'I am a terrakin under the employ of a queen consort, and there were quakes that night concentrated around the consortial estates. Is there any use in my denials of a conclusion so blatantly clear?'

'You brought the tunnels down.' Khaisan took over, finally rising from his seat to step down the dais.

'I did.'

'So you could have been the one responsible for Rajini Amarin's death.'

'Our therapeuts have determined her cause of death to be by multiple stab wounds.' Kiet interrupted, seeing only too clearly where Khaisan intended to go. 'She was dead before the tunnels collapsed.'

'It was dark, as your key witness herself admits. She could easily have mistaken the wielder of the dagger.'

The silver-servant would gladly take blame for Dhvani's crime. Kiet was interested not in platforming his lies. 'Yet you refuse to hear Rajini Chei or her soldiers. The queen consort, a dozen men, and my witness could have not all mistaken the same wielder.'

'Now, wait.' Persi held out a hand, leaned forwards in his seat and addressed the silver-servant. 'Do you claim to have been the one who murdered the rajini?'

'Nobody murdered the rajini.' Arya lifted his chin; more to look upon the dais, but still Kiet saw hubris in the movement. 'Murder implies an unjustified killing.'

Khaisan's eyes actually sparkled. He descended the last step off the dais and approached the man. 'Tell us what you mean by that.'

'Yes, do tell us.' Kiet's hand curled around Isla's arm rest. Any tighter and the wood might break. 'The dead can hardly defend themselves, after all.'

'Your mother was hardly an innocent woman.'

Kiet turned his gaze upon Judhistir. 'My Rama, if any of your wives has quarrel with the other, no matter how severe still the answer is not murder. I've no interest in hearing this man slander my mother's name—and neither should this court. The only exception that matters is if Dhvani had been acting in self-defence, which all signs point is far from the case. It is they who stole into my mother's labyrinths; they who took her tunnels down. It is I—the victim's son—who turned out poisoned and incapable of defending his home.'

'That was not my rajini's doing.' Arya's voice was low.

Kiet only sneered. 'Yes, and we should take your word for it.'

'The late Maharaj Kiaan,' Arya started, much bolder this time, 'my rajini's son—whose entire family were murdered in their sleeps—he left the rajini a note.'

Kiet stopped with a start. This was new to him. He turned to the silver-servant, seated two chairs away from Isla, who looked just as shocked as he felt.

'In it he discloses that he had been aware of the plot to murder him, and—what is more—that he had agents attempting to look into the identity of his conspirators. That the note would lead us to them.'

Kiet smoothed his face. 'So you were lured by this note.'

'It is what sent us to the labyrinths that night.'

He may as well have confessed. 'This agent claimed it was my mother who had Kiaan murdered?'

'The agent led us to your mother's labyrinths.'

'I'll repeat the question. Did either he or Kiaan's note ever mention my mother's name?'

'No.' Arya straightened in his seat. 'But Rajini Amarin confessed to it with her own mouth.'

Kiet laughed. 'Of course she did. And this note—' He stepped now towards Khaisan until they stood only a few paces apart. 'Why have you presented it not to court?'

'The note is gone,' said Arya. 'Burnt by Kiaan's agent.'

'Convenient. Where is he, then, this agent?'

Arya's lips tightened and it was a while before he answered, 'Even if we ever knew his identity, I would not expose a fellow agent.'

This is why Dhvani chose not to speak. True as they may be, she knows the absurdity of her claims. Kiet calmed himself, collecting the words jumbled in his head.

The entire court watched him—the Bench, the witnesses, the audience. 'There you have it, My Rama. A motive, groundless as it is. The rajini was goaded by a note of unknown origin and questionable accuracy, and—blinded by her rage—followed an unknown agent provocateur into my mother's estates. Surely there can now be no question as to what took place in the dungeons.'

'She confessed.'

'Can anyone else attest to this confession?' Kiet stilled his quickening pulse. Again Isla's face flashed in the corner of his eyes, her voice echoing in his head. 'I heard the confession with my very own ears. She made the admission even before she knew Dhvani was there.'

Arya, too, turned to Isla; gave her a single nod. 'She was there.'

Kiet smiled, victorius. 'So you confirm my witness's presence.'

'There was another girl, too, though I do not know what became of her.'

Isla's sister. Kiet ignored the statement and hoped the Bench would, too. It made no difference, besides. 'Dead and buried, likely, along with the countless other unidentified victims of your terrakindry. Well, dhayang? What do you say of this confession?'

'I heard no such thing, maharaj.' Her voice was clear with just the right touch of discomfit, her face filled with just the right amount of resignation. It worried him how well she could lie. 'All I could gather of that night was Rajini Amarin pursuing me through the tunnels. I did not know why at the time—but now I understand they must have assumed I was the one who poisoned you. We were in that dungeon when Rajini Dhvani and her silver-servant caught up to her, catching her off-guard. It remains unclear to me what their friction had been. So no, there was no confession.'

Arya's nose twitched with disgust; even then Isla gave no reaction. 'I do not know why you lie for her, when we both know she tried to kill you in those dungeons.'

'Right, before Rajini Dhvani murdered her and tried to pin it on me—or did you forget that part?' Isla met his scowl with one of her own. 'But Rajini Amarin thought I was an intruder—one who had poisoned her son—your rajini, on the other hand, only cared for self-preservation.'

The silver-servant turned his gaze upon the capradon high above the dais, as though he were too good for the rest of them. 'I have no more to say.'

'Nor have I more questions of you, silver-servant.' None that pertains to this trial, at any rate.

He could help not but wonder of this supposed note and Kiaan's supposed agent. Whoever he was, surely he would be able to tell him more about his mother and her supposed crimes—but that was a question for another day. For now, it suited him to treat Arya's testimony as nothing more than a farce.

Kiet returned to stand before Judhistir, Khaisan at his shoulder. 'I have presented to this court all my evidence, Rama. Written testimony, witness statements, documentation, the murder weapon itself. In answer to this has the right bench presented'—he gestured at the silver-servant in his seat—'a poor justification of what is still, ultimately, regicide. Dhvani murdered my mother, and now her agent attempts to besmirch her good name based on a mysterious note that could have been written by anyone to provoke a grieving mother. What is worse, My Rama; instead of bringing it to you, she decided to take matters into her own hands.'

Dhvani knew my father would never give her the justice she so desired. Still, the sentiment struck Judhistir just the way Kiet intended.

The Maha Rama's frown was one of resignation. 'Khaisan. Have you more to present to our court?'

The maharam straightened his kashmeer cloak before giving a reluctant shake of his head. 'I have looked, Your Serene Highness, but found no other who can defend the Honourable Consort.'

'So be it.' Judhistir turned to Persi beside him. 'And finds the left judiciary bench this proceeding fair and satisfactory?'

'I do, My Rama.'

'Very well. Thus time has come for deliberations. The Bench shall hear mine verdict before the midnight bells are rung.'

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↝ END CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX ↜

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☆ this chapter is dedicated to PeaceAyomide ☆

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Image: Top image—© Chow Kay at ArtStation; lower images—original artists unknown