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This statement ignites the hall. Everyone seems to be talking at once, Lyr is drowning in a wall of sound. He can’t understand how to process what Damon just said.
Over it all, Rafus says, “No, that is impossible. My son is no luxorite. He cannot be allowed to give his life for a male whore.”
“Yes, I am, father,” Damon says.
Lyr looks at the people on the high table. He sees the Hare step forward and say something to the tall priest on the dais. The tall priest turns and says something to the small man.
The small man nods and the tall priest stands up. Something about his presence is commanding. Lyr feels like he is sucking the air from the room as he speaks. “It is well understood that Zai recognises the strength of bonds that can exist between sly men. He warns against such bonds in the Book of the Rules. I think we see before us the dangers of such a thing being allowed to develop. Damon Darekul, you say you are sly. Do you lust only for men?”
“Yes,” says Damon. There is no hint of emotion in his voice. “You may interrogate the Lady Inez and she will tell you that I have only bedded her twice and both times I needed a strengthening love draught to do so. Zai has not blessed her womb as punishment for my sins.”
Lyr swallows. This is information Damon would have done anything to keep secret. And now he is announcing it all in public to persuade the Rose Court to execute him.
He can hear the small man saying “There will be no need to bring Lady Inez to the justice hall. I am satisfied with Doroth Zain’s counsel on this matter that Damon Darekul's bond with his slave is as close as family for a man such as him. But it must go both ways. Slave, do you love your Master as a husband?”
Lyr wonders what would happen now if he said no, but he cannot. He cannot deny the only truth he knows. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, I love him with all that I am, as a wife loves a husband.”
“Have you lain with him?”
Lyr nods.
“Please speak the words.”
“Yes,” Lyr says. “Yes, I have lain with him. He took me at the Feast of Surrus in the coupling grove.”
The members of the Rose Court turn and speak to each other. Then the small man says, “You are a slave. Can you offer any witness to this act?”
Damon says, “I am witness.”
The small man shakes his head. “No,” he says in a dry voice. “No. I think we need more surety for this judgement. A reliable sign that the accused has lain with the offerer of stead.”
Lyr takes a shaky breath. Perhaps Damon will not get his wish after all. But then, up on the dais, Atticul stands. “I can bear witness,” he says. “This slave came to my room in Sanglora Manor the morning after the Feast of Surrus. He boasted of lying with Damon Darekul to me. He was proud of it. He told me that Damon had put his tongue into the whore’s asshole.” Atticul gives Lyr a nasty smiles as the entire room seems to inhale at once.
The small man says, “Crudity is not required, My Prince.”
At the same time, Rafus says, “That does not make my son a witness.”
But the small man says, “No, I think for this, with the other declarations, it can stand. The language of a sly whore, indeed. Zai will allow it. Damon Darekul can be flogged to death for the murder of Prince Endrew in his lover’s stead.”
Again, Damon’s voice betrays no emotion. “Holy Enforcer of Zai, I thank you for this fair judgement. But I will take the punishment that you would have given my slave. I will take the whipping that would have killed him.”
Again Damon’s voice is free from any emotion, not a hint of fear as he negotiates the level of brutality he will face.
It’s Atticul’s voice that sounds emotional as he says, petulantly, “No, Bastard, it must be death.”
The Hare gets up. He takes a book from his pile and carries it with him to stand behind the small man. He shows him something, murmurs something.
The small man nods to him in reply. “My acolyte points out correctly that the stead punishment must be exactly the same. No changes are permitted for a differing constitution. Rafus, perhaps you will get your wish. A flogging severe enough to kill this small-bodied slave may be something your son can survive.”
“Father,” Atticul says, his voice almost a wail. “Please, Father, Endrew is dead. This cannot stand. They should both be executed for this treasonous suggestion.”
It’s Selim who answers. “This will still be a heavy punishment, Atticul. There will be justice for Endrew. Gelen, how many strokes of your lash would it take to kill this slave?” He points to Lyr.
The small man says, “It is not something I can be exact about, but I would be surprised if he could survive a hundred.”
Selim nods. “Very well, let that stand. Give judgement and end this grotesque spectacle.”
The small man says, “Damon Darekul, you will take the punishment in your slave’s stead for the murder of Prince Endrew. It will be one hundred lashes, to be taken in the Punishment Square at noon. Zai, hold your soul. When it is done, if you survive, we will investigate your confession to sins of the body and the further punishment. The mourning for Prince Endrew will commence afterwards and last for one turn of the moon.”
