Chapter 6

Coren awoke in a cell beneath the palace in Dhekar. At least, he assumed that’s where he was. It was dark and he felt water dripping down around him and on him. He looked to the only source of light, a large wooden door with small iron bars set at eye level.

He idly wondered - were all cells in the Empire built to the same specifications? He knew he was in trouble, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had known for years that he traded in death, in more ways than one. Yes, he sold potions and powders that could kill. And the penalty for that was death. He knew he would have a trial and that could take a while. He wouldn’t live a comfortable life, but at least he would live, for a time.

He was contemplating the various options he had. It was possible that they hadn’t caught the desert man. Clearly, some of his poison had gotten through to a member of the royal family. That didn’t exactly calm him. Nothing he could offer them would make up for the death of the Emperor.

He was pursuing these dark thoughts when he heard a rattle of keys outside and the door opened. He looked up and saw two guards waiting for him.

“On your feet, Vishod,” the one on the left said.

He slowly rose, using the wall to steady himself. “Where are you taking me?”

“The lawyer you requested is here. And he’s a good one. You might get out of this yet.”

The guard’s voice carried true admiration in it, and for a brief second, Coren dared hope that he might yet see the outside world again.

His guard escorted him to the end of the long hall and up a flight of slick stone stairs, to a waiting area near the surface of the dungeon level. Sitting at a round table was a well-dressed man, with dark brown hair and green eyes. He was reading a piece of parchment. Before him, he had a stack of blank paper, an inkwell and a griffin-feather quill. This last marked him as someone both well-off and important. Most people used bird-feather quills. Coren was confused.

“Hello? Are you my lawyer?”

The man looked up from his reading. “That depends. Are you Coren Vishod?”

Coren nodded.

“Then I’m your lawyer, Lieutenant Vishod. Please, have a seat. This is quite the list of charges. We have quite the battle before us.”

Coren took a seat, his hands shaking a bit and his knees feeling weak. “You needn’t call me Lieutenant. I am but a simple merchant,” Coren protested.

“Come now, Lieutenant Vishod. No need to be modest. I know you used to be a messenger for the royal family of Mareth’totam. I know you have done some military service, in their intelligence core in Ethsheya. And I know you’ve been living in a bottle for the last seven years, since you were discharged."

Coren looked pained at the memory of his dismissal from service. But there was something else on his mind.

“I…” He paused. “I’m sorry, sir. I just wasn’t expecting such a….What I mean to say is, I didn’t think I’d be assigned….” He didn’t know how to say what he wanted.

“Well, you have a right to have a lawyer assigned to your case, and I understand you requested one.”

“Yes, sir. I did. And I know my rights. I’m just not sure I can afford someone of your obvious cost.” He eyed the quill.

“Oh, you needn’t worry about that Lieutenant. My services are complimentary.”

Coren raised his eyebrows.

“Well, Lieutenant, this is the first case of treason in the Empire in over two centuries. And I have some…unique…experience in the area. So I’ve been asked to defend you.”

Coren’s eyes widened as the implication of what his lawyer said sunk in. “You mean…?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. I’m Kilthanis D’Endray. And my ancestor defected from the Imperial Army during the Third War for Et’alash.”

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