Was there no one from the city to argue her case? She glanced around at the people behind her. All she saw were the faces of Solamnic Knights. There were no civilians, no representatives of the dragonlord, no members of the Legion. Was it possible Sir Remmik had closed the council to anyone who might be able to help her? Linsha felt the truth like a cold ache in the pit of her stomach.

“Does the defendant have anything to say in her defense?” Remmik said. Her hands gripped the board in front of her.

“Est Sularas Oth Mithas,” she said firmly, her eyes pinned on Sir Remmik’s stiff face. “My honor is my life. I have lived that oath for nearly twenty years and not once have I ever broken my oath or regretted keeping it. By my honor as a Knight of the Rose, I admired and respected Sir Morrec. I would not kill him. I did not plan the ambush or tip off those who did. I have always had the best interest of the Circle in mind.”

“Lies are easy when you are confronted with the truth,” Sir Remmik interrupted.

“The truth is easy when you have nothing to fear from it,” she retorted. “Can you say the same? This council has only heard your version of this killing. It was a pretty tale, but I see you did not bother to corroborate any of it with Iyesta, or the Legion, or anyone in the city.”

The senior Knight looked down at her with ice in his eyes, secure in his mind about her guilt. “Iyesta has not yet returned from wherever she took herself, and this council is no business of the Legion’s.”

Linsha leaned forward, the fear for herself suddenly lost in flood of worry. “Iyesta is not back yet? There has been no word?”

“No,” one of the other Knights answered. “People are beginning to think the dragonlord has left for good.”

“That’s impossible. Iyesta would never leave this realm willing-” Linsha broke off there, reconsidering the possibilities. A troubling thought occurred to her. Iyesta might not leave the Missing City willingly, but what about unwillingly? Had something forced her to leave without a word to any of her loyal followers? Had the golds and silvers gone with her? What about the eggs under the city? The questions fell into Linsha’s mind like boulders crashing down a slope. She needed answers. Would Purestian, the brass guarding the eggs know what happened to Iyesta? Worst of all, would Thunder know?

“The dragonlord has more important things to do than be in town when you are brought before the council,” Sir Remmik said. He had never had a good relationship with Iyesta, only a mutual dislike.

Linsha slammed her fists on the rail and said with all her pent up frustration and anger behind it, “Why are you so convinced I killed Sir Morrec? Why do you do him such disservice as to even imagine that one of his officers would kill him? Why do you not investigate this more thoroughly? I never wanted him dead! Look at the results! Do you seriously think I’d want you in command?”

She regretted those words the moment she uttered them.

Sir Remmik’s elegant silver brows lifted. “Were you planning to take over control of the circle yourself?” he said in a cool, insinuating voice. “Did these unknown attackers exceed their orders and leave you too incapacitated to complete your coup? When were you planning to assassinate me?”

Right now would be good, Linsha’s rebellious mind thought.

More hushed talking filled the spaces behind her. Linsha could feel the Knights’ stares on her back, and she guessed what they were thinking. Without another voice to defend her, no one would listen to her. They would believe their Senior Knight, the Knight who had handpicked most of them, trained them, cared for their needs, and gave them the best billet south of Solace. All of them seemed ready to take his word at face value. No one wanted to investigate who would ambush the Knight Commander of the Solamnic Circle, or why. No one showed any real curiosity about the odd storm that obliterated Gal Tra’kalas, the disappearance of Iyesta, or even the rumors about Thunder. They shoved those matters aside, obeyed their orders, and kept to their insular world behind the walls of the Citadel. Linsha felt ashamed for them.

Sir Remmik leaned back in his tall chair. “Sir Knights, it is time for your judgment. Is the Knight before you guilty of the transgression of murder and conspiracy?”

“Sir Remmik, one moment,” came a voice from the audience. Sir Hugh stood and looked around as if he was hoping for some support. “Sir, I feel I must protest the manner in which this council has been called. It is too soon. The accused has not been allowed time to organize a defense, and the ambush of our men has not been properly investigated. I call for a postponement of the verdict to allow for these to be done.”

“Paladine bless you to the third generation,” Linsha whispered.

“I regret any misconceptions you may have, Sir Hugh, but I assure you, this Knight’s offenses have been fully investigated.”

“Like Chaos’s chausses they were,” said Linsha acidly.

Sir Remmik ignored her. “As for its hasty convening, I had reason to hurry this along. I have received word this noon that a large fleet of ships has been seen sailing this way. They have not been identified, nor do they look friendly. In case they mean to attack Mirage, we must be prepared. We do not need to drag out this council or have it dangling over our heads. Let us dispose of the traitor in our midst and move on to plan our defense.”

A dead silence met his pronouncement.

Linsha could only stare in disbelief. A fleet of approaching ships. Ye gods. It had to be true. Sir Remmik would not make up a tale like that, but to use it as an excuse to shove her into an execution was intolerable.

Of course, no one else appeared to think so. The onlookers began talking excitedly among themselves, and only Sir Hugh had the decency to look angry as he sat down.

The council members went through the motions of talking among themselves and all too quickly reached a verdict.

“Guilty,” they all said in turn.

Linsha felt too numb to react. Her anger drained away like water in a shattered barrel.

Sir Remmik banged on the table for silence. “In accordance with the Measure, the law of the Solamnic High Council recommends execution in the case of murder of a superior officer. Therefore it is the decision of this council that Linsha Majere shall be stripped of her rank and hung on the gallows until dead.” He stood up and saluted the Solamnic flag. “So let it be done before noon tomorrow. This council is over.”

Linsha’s three guards took her arms and quickly tied her hands behind her back. She did not try to fight them. This was not the time or the place to try an escape, nor was she prepared to make the effort. Her mind was reeling. The world shifted beneath her feet. When she had walked into this hall, she had been a Rose Knight and these young guards had not dared do this to her. Now she was nothing to them. She was dishonored and was to be hanged like a common brigand for a crime she had not even imagined, without any hope of time to clear her name.

Her guards took her arms, pulling her roughly, and led her out to go back to the tower guardroom. When she stepped outside, she scanned the walls and towers for any sight of Varia. She wanted to tell the owl what had happened, what was going to happen, but she saw no sign of the bird.

A shove to the middle of her back sent her staggering. “Keep moving,” snarled one of the guards. Because her hands were tied behind her back, she lost her balance and fell to her knees.

The three Crown Knights moved in. They shoved her and buffeted her, inflicting pain and indignation while staying just short of an actual beating. If any other Knights watched the assault, they made no move to interfere.

Except one.

“Enough!” A voice cut through the afternoon heat. Sir Hugh’s compact form broke into the middle of the group and shoved the three younger men aside. “Where is your honor?” he said in a low, furious voice. He pulled Linsha to her feet. “You are excused. Report to your duty officer.”