THE TRIBUNAL

[rowan_narrators]

On midday on Sunday, the city quiets down. Everyone seems to be headed towards the City Center; once there, they array around the stage that was used for the musicians at the party. On the stage, River Royal is seated next to Senator Zosima. A few important-looking people, including Nazarene, stand behind them

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[man_and_monster]

Once the crowd has quieted, Royal turns to his left, to the building where the three Elves are being kept.

"Bring out the sorcerer," he says, in a clear, carrying voice.

[mikney]

Mikney is terrified.

He doesn't show it - he hasn't shown his emotions, not really, since he entered formal sorcerer training at the age of nine. Emotion is a problem for someone who deals with such powerful magics.

But now?

He's utterly helpless, in a sea of enemies. A famous and powerful sorcerer, one of the best in Rowan, at the mercy of a goblin and his horde.

The roar of the crowd goes quiet, outside, and a guard ducks in, with a nod at those restraining Mikney. They haul him to his feet and then they're outside. Escorting him, forcefully, through rows of spectators. Up onto the stage, and down onto his knees in front of Royal.

Mikney grits his jaw, determined not to show his humiliation.

[senator_zosima]

Zosima slammed an upside-down mug on the table, creating a series of fast, loud rapping noises.

"This tribunal is convened to determine the fate of the elven sorcerer Mikney. Those assembled here must decide: what can, what should, what will be done with this powerful enemy?"

"Your voices and votes will decide. According to our law, all may speak. As the presiding officer, these proceedings shall not be concluded until I am satisfied that all have been heard. Anyone who disrupts this trial will be the next person in chains."

The scurry of soft voices that had persisted even after Royal's request and her makeshift gavel-banging stilled. The wind rustled across the court yard, stirring Mikney's hair.

"General Royal shall speak first. When the situation has been established, I will open the floor to this assembly."

[tenuefarfalla]

Cho did not want to see River Royal again. She was fairly certain now that she wasn't going to be killed for having no magic, but it was still possible that she might be killed for refusing to help him wage his war. That was a slightly less immediate threat, so it let her relax just a tiny bit. She looked at the people already assembled, trying to find a familiar face, not that she would know many. There was the demon from the wall, which, all right, she couldn't exactly hate him, but she also didn't want to be buddies or anything. The man she'd shared a cell with, who had let her hide behind him. God, that had been pathetic, hadn't it? It was like those first few weeks in New York. Well, she'd gotten over that and she would get over this, assuming she lived long enough. Near the front of the stage she saw a head of curly dark hair, and when the person turned that head just a bit, scanning the crowd himself, she recognized Jacob. She would have gone over, let his obvious strength make her feel secure, but she did not want to be that

[man_and_monster]

Royal part-bowed to Zosima, his posture respectful, his smile a hint roguish.

And then he turned to the crowd, the expression vanishing. He didn't speak, not yet, though he still commanded their silence; instead, he walked in a slow, even circle around Mikney. Noting the hints of symbols on his wrists, at his neck. The healer had already told Royal about them, of course. But he made a show of discovery, fingers skimming along Mikney's neck to pull the shirt just a hint aside.

"Take off his shirt," Royal ordered, to the guards.

A few sharp cuts, and Mikney's torso was exposed, the shreds of the shirt pulled away. A tremor of shock passed through the crowd, at the sight of the symbols.

"Sorcerer Niko," called Royal, to one of those standing behind him and Zosima. "What are these symbols?"