In the end, Indenuel had to only explain himself once. He was there, right where the middle and lower class met to do their shopping. He had of course gathered a crowd. And once Indenuel explained what he had in his hand, the proof of his parentage, the word burned through the tree gossip. Tolomon and Inessa remained by his side.
The crowd grew louder, and Indenuel saw why. The High Elder’s carriage was headed straight for him, and people parted out of the way fast. Indenuel closed the book, holding it close as the carriage came to a stop.
“Stay calm, Indenuel. Don’t lose your temper,” Tolomon said.
Navir walked out of the carriage, coming toward Indenuel fast. “What is this blasphemy you dare spread about the High Elders?”
“You are the blasphemers,” Indenuel said. “It is you that would dare cause chaos in the name of God.”
“You four, subdue Tolomon. You, keep Inessa in her place,” Navir said to the guards who followed the High Elder’s carriage.
Indenuel glared as the guards did what they were told. He folded his arms, the book against his chest, guessing Navir would try something like this. One guard had Inessa’s hands pinned behind her, and four guards had Tolomon on his knees, all four of them holding swords pointed at his throat. Tolomon did not seem concerned by this at all, though the crowd certainly did.
“Do you honestly think you could blaspheme against us and not expect swift consequences?” Navir asked as Dalius and Fadrique stood on either side of him. Martin stood closer to the carriage, the only one not looking at the scene.
“I speak the truth. I’m not nearly as good at lying as the four of you. I can no longer pretend I don’t know my father. I will introduce myself with my true parentage. Indenuel, son of Cristoval the Speaker to the Dead and Lucia,” he said to the crowd. “And I bring the proof of it. Because I knew you would try and stop me.”
“You have a title now. You did not need to concern yourself with your parentage any longer.”
“Still feels right, though,” Indenuel said.
“Any book can be fabricated. This is an egregious crime you’ve placed against us, and the fact that you didn’t come to us first means you are doing nothing more than spreading rumors,” Navir said.
“What I said is true,” Indenuel said, keeping a hold of the book. “Moreover, there is a way I can prove what all four of you have done.”
“There is no way you can prove it,” Navir said, even now blocking Indenuel from connecting to the trees. He wouldn’t be able to share his memory of when he found out, nor of taking it out of the library. Once he might have been stronger than Navir’s tree talking, but not anymore. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t need the trees.
“Do you really think Martin is going to lie when Sara asks him?” Indenuel asked, glaring at Navir.
There was the slight horror that flittered through Navir’s eyes before they all turned to look at Martin. He was still staring at the horses of the carriage, but he must have heard, because he turned his head to meet everyone’s gaze. Indenuel was quite sure he was paler than before, the misery plain in his eyes.
“I do believe she’ll be on her way. The news has trickled to the nobility already,” Indenuel said.
Tolomon glanced at Indenuel, a slight frown on his face. No, this wasn’t part of the plans, but the High Elders backed him into a corner, and he wanted to make sure they couldn’t lie about this anymore.
Navir’s eyes narrowed, and he could almost see him shifting tactics. “Are you aware of the own truth of your wife, Indenuel? Aware what she is?”
“Are you trying to pull us apart? That’s a devilish tactic, and you should know,” Indenuel said.
“Truth, Indenuel. Aren’t we all in pursuit of truth? And shouldn’t you want to be made aware of it when another man knows your wife is a whore?” Navir asked.
Indenuel curled his fists, feeling the spine of the book. “Yes, I know she slept with all four of you. I wouldn’t call her a whore, though. I’d rather call you four rapists.”
Navir’s smile was tiny before he turned his gaze to Inessa. “It is nothing we did. This is before.” He took a few steps closer. “It’s because Jina, your mother, works in a brothel.” Inessa’s eyes widened, and Martin leaned against the carriage, looking like he was going to be sick. “You lied and manipulated the High Elders into believing you were a virgin, but you were having sex since you were eight.”
“No, no,” Inessa said. “It’s not true. My mother would never employ girls as young as eight.”
Navir smirked. “So, she does run a brothel.”
Inessa stopped talking. All the color drained from her face as Navir’s smile widened. Indenuel glared at Navir, who turned to the crowd. “That was all it was. At the wedding her conscious got the better of her. That dress, in a way, was her confession. She is nothing more than a slut, and therefore must be treated as such.”
“No!” Indenuel said. “She is nothing of the sort! You lie!”
“But we have a crew of Santollian authorities on their way to Venria now and will get to the bottom of this rumor. After all, one must use these rumors to come to the truth, just to make sure people pay for their consequences, right?” Navir asked.
Inessa stared at the ground, her eyes wide. Navir’s smile was huge, like he was enjoying this all way too much.
“Leave Inessa and her family alone,” Indenuel said.
“Or what, exactly? You want us to not make sure the people of Santollia are following the word of God? You think brothels should exist?” Navir asked.
Indenuel glared. “I leave that to your vast knowledge, Navir. I’ve personally never been to one.” The crowd gave a collective gasp. Indenuel didn’t think it was that harsh of a comment, but he forgot that no one was allowed to insult a High Elder ever, even a hint of one. “Honestly, how do you know you’re not sleeping with your own daughters.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“We have parameters in place so that never happens,” Navir said.
Inessa glanced up at Navir, confused, before she looked at Martin who did not look back.
Indenuel smirked. “So, you admit the Warrior Project is real.” Navir narrowed his eyes, and Indenuel felt the glee from this victory. “How many did you visit? How many women did you pick out of the gutters of the street? What was the criteria? I wonder how desperate a woman would have to be to sleep with you.”
Navir shrugged. “I guess that’s a question you’ll have to ask your mother in the autumn.”
There was a flash of red. He hated that flash of red, because it blinded him so completely it didn’t even register that he had almost punched Navir in the face. If the crowd gasped before, they were almost beside themselves in shock at this. Guards grabbed Indenuel before he could hit him, forcing his hands behind his back before he even registered how close he had come to punching a High Elder right in the face as the book tumbled to the ground.
“He is in the same social class and he never actually hit Navir the Tree Talker. Those aren’t needed,” Martin said, finally breaking his gaze away from the horses to stop the guards from placing Indenuel in irons. Martin picked up the book, closing it tight, still trying to hide it.
“No physical force, Indenuel,” Tolomon hissed from his spot on the ground. “Don’t lose your temper.”
It had been so instinctual. The crowd was turning uneasy. More soldiers joined the crowd, trying to keep the peace.
“This man is known to have the devil’s mark on him,” Navir said. “Remove his shirt, make sure he isn’t marked again.”
“No, Navir. There is no need for such humiliation,” Martin said.
“He brought this upon himself,” Navir said.
The guards didn’t bother taking it off gently. They forced his jacket off and tore his shirt right down the middle. Indenuel closed his eyes, feeling a dangerous level of anger. The crowd gasped in pure shock. He knew he didn’t have the mark, but he did recognize how close he had become to using corruptive powers.
Indenuel opened his eyes, glaring at Navir. “Satisfied?” he practically spat.
A carriage came through the crowd, one Indenuel recognized, and Navir did too. He spun on Martin.
“The High Elders are only as strong as their weakest member,” Navir said loud enough for Indenuel to hear. “You will lie to your wife, and you will make it sound convincing.”
“You cannot ask me to do that,” Martin said.
Navir took a step closer to Martin, grabbing his elbow. Indenuel remained, his hands pinned behind him by the two guards, feeling far too much of the warm summer breeze on his skin than he ever thought he would while surrounded by a large group of people.
“I cannot remove you from your position as High Elder, but I can make it difficult, so it is your choice. The High Elders, or your wife.” There was no sympathy in Navir’s tone.
Martin shook his head, his anger clear on his face. “You should have never placed me in this situation.”
“Yet here you are. Choose.”
“Either way, the High Elders get me, whether a liar or a broken man,” Martin said.
The door of the carriage opened, and Sara got out. Martin looked at Indenuel, almost a glare. Perhaps he should have felt bad about forcing Martin’s hand like this, but he found he didn’t care. Martin went along with the Warrior project, and Indenuel couldn’t show compassion just because he had been nice when it was convenient for him.
Sara walked over to them, assessing the situation before giving the guard holding Indenuel a deadly glare. “Let Indenuel go. The Warrior is not to be treated in such a fashion.”
The guard, surprisingly, did. It seemed like the inability to say no to Sara didn’t just involve food. Indenuel gathered his shirt and put it on, even though there was still a tear down the middle. At least he had on something.
Sara stood before the High Elders, her eyes fixed on Martin, not an ounce of jollity in her face. “Well.” Her voice lacked the warmth Indenuel had become familiar with. “I’m here. Apparently, you have something to tell me.”
Martin squirmed, still trying to hide the book. Navir glared at him.
“Sara, could we – could we talk somewhere else? Privately?”
“Why?” There was hurt there. A lot of it. “Embarrassed with what you have to say?”
“Please.” Martin reached for her hand, but she held it just out of his reach.
“I need a simple answer, Martin. Tree gossip is one thing but seeing the memories of people reading that book with your name under pages of women are quite another. Is it true? Have you been lying to me for twenty-five years?”
Indenuel waited, knowing Martin wouldn’t lie. Not to Sara. Not to his wife. And he found himself wishing it was already over.
Martin dropped his gaze. “When Leon the Healer was murdered and war began with the Oraminians, we believed things would get worse. We honestly thought we were going to lose. A year or so after the war began, we started the program to-” A sharp slap to his cheek cut him off. Indenuel winced. Martin closed his eyes, refusing to open them. “We were desperate.”
She slapped him again. Navir made a motion to the guards, and they began ordering people back to their homes. Indenuel stopped a guard who was headed straight for Sara.
Martin stopped talking. He had said enough. The three other High Elders held very still, though Navir still glared at Martin.
Sara was crying, her chest heaving. Martin opened his eyes, tears of pain in his own eyes. Whether physical pain or spiritual, Indenuel couldn’t tell. Martin opened his mouth, possibly to form an apology, but Sara raised her beet red hand again. He closed his eyes again, bracing himself, allowing his face to be slapped.
She did. Hard.
Sara’s cheeks were wet with tears, and Indenuel realized how deep a wound he had revealed. How festered and infected it was. But he could not let Martin keep it a secret any longer.
“You are not allowed to enter within the gates of my home,” she said. “Find a place in the city. I care not where.”
She spun around, marching back to the carriage as the crowd still tried to disperse. She didn’t turn. There were no final glances in Martin’s direction. She simply climbed back in the carriage, and it moved away.
Martin touched his cheek, staring at the ground.
Indenuel turned to the guards on either side of him. “Release my wife. Release my bodyguard. We are done here.”
The guards obeyed. Inessa hurried over to Indenuel, taking his hand. Navir pushed past Martin, heading straight for Indenuel. His glare was dark. Indenuel met it, still holding the pieces of his shirt together with his other hand. “Do you honestly think you can fight against us?” Navir asked.
Indenuel’s glare darkened. “Do you honestly think you can fight against me?”
Navir’s eyes burned in anger. “You are to be thrown in the dungeon for trying to start a riot.” Inessa gasped, gripping Indenuel’s hand tighter. “Since the militia were quick to quell the crowd, you may only spend two nights instead of five. Though since it falls on the night before the Sabbath, you will remain one more day, and no children may come visit you. One visitor for those two days.” Navir glared at Inessa. “Only once.” He snatched the book out of Martin’s hands. “And for sharing sacred information from the High Elders library, you are hereby banned from it. Forever.” He turned and headed for the carriage, the other High Elders followed. Except Martin. The guards forced Inessa’s hands away, clamping the irons over Indenuel’s wrists. Tolomon stood beside the guard, his head bowed.
Martin remained, staring at the ground, lost in his own world before he slowly looked up at Indenuel in chains. Despite the verbal fight he had with Navir, Cristoval’s prophecy came back to him far too clearly as he looked at the hurt in Martin’s eyes. Indenuel might have stumbled on Martin’s motivation to murder.
“Martin,” Inessa said, sounding frightened. “Martin, my mother…”
“Not there.” Martin tore his gaze away from Indenuel but didn’t look at Inessa. “I checked. Twice. She’s not there.”
Inessa let out a breath of relief, still gripping Indenuel’s arm with one hand, covering her mouth with the other. “Oh, thank God.” Indenuel was confused, until he realized Inessa’s mother ran a brothel. She probably just missed seeing a High Elder in disguise there.
Martin said nothing, simply turned, following the High Elders into the carriage as the guards forced Indenuel away from Inessa’s grip and led him to a black carriage.