The Power and the Glory

Book 2 Chapter VIII: All Hell Breaks Loose

Warning: contains references to rape, including the attempted rape of a teenager, and murder, including the attempted murder of a child.

What northern wind blew us into the street?
And what fatal one will we all some day meet?
-- The Collection, Sing of the Moon

At first Ilaran didn't believe she was really there. Haliran had been on his mind for weeks. Her ugly face had forced its way into his dreams as his mind superimposed her over every enemy he'd ever faced. No wonder he imagined he saw her here when she wouldn't give him a minute's peace.

He blinked and looked again. Haliran glared right back at him.

Unlike Abi a few minutes ago his reaction wasn't horror. At first it was surprise. Then it was bemusement. Why was she here at all when she didn't make a habit of attending court? Then he accepted she was here, there was nothing he could do about it, and the police would be spared the trouble of going in search of her to arrest her.

At last silence fell in the courtroom. Raivíth looked expectantly at Ilaran. He continued talking as if nothing had happened. The whole time he kept his eyes on Haliran's reflection. Judging by her suspicious frown, she knew something was happening that she didn't like but hadn't realised yet that she was the person being spoken about.

He studied her surroundings in the reflection. The mirror was so small it was hard to tell where she actually was in the room. By stepping forward he got a better view of which seating area she was in. A little bit of deduction and glancing at the other mirrors, and he managed to conjure up a fairly accurate idea of where she was. Not directly behind him, in spite of what it had looked like at first; she was off to his right and sitting quite near the council table. He kept that in mind as he spoke.

"Five thousand years ago this person got their hands on top secret battle plans during the Kadinis War. She sold them to whichever foreign government was willing to pay the most for them. As a result Saoridhlém lost six battles and over twenty thousand soldiers were killed." 

Ilaran could see the exact moment Haliran realised she was the person in question. Dawning horror appeared on her face. It was a memory he would cherish for the rest of his life.

"She is also guilty of embezzlement, at least eighty murders, rape, forced marriage, and bribing police officers and judges. All the details of her crimes are in here, provided by the testimony of one of her victims and a former ally."

He held out the folder full of documents. Raivíth waved a servant over to take them from him.

"Who is this person you speak of?" she asked.

Dramatic gestures were very useful in moderation. They were also very tricky to get right. Performing one correctly relied on careful planning, careful timing, exploiting details other people were unaware of, and a great deal of luck. Ilaran tried not to use them too often. Over-indulging in drama came with a heightened risk of getting something wrong and making a fool of himself. Still, this was one time when a dramatic gesture was practically required. He thought of where he'd figured out Haliran was sitting. He kept that exact image in mind as he turned -- slowly enough for him to avoid a humiliating mistake if he was wrong.

He was right. He turned round and looked Haliran straight in the face.

"Haliran-rúdaun."

~~~~

Profound silence fell over the entire room. Everyone was too stunned to react. Well, almost everyone. Two people already knew what was coming and were spared the surprise.