Free Grudgebearer by J.F. Lewis Page A

and . . . yes, pork, like as not. He could halfway see it himself. He didn’t like to guess what kind of meat he seemed to the Aern. Probably pork for himself, too.
    â€œYou have my solemn oath, that, unless forced to fight in self-defense, or in trial by combat in the eyes of Shidarva in accordance to your laws—which, I should add, I would not appreciate—neither I nor my fellow Hundreds will attack you with our warpicks. Does that comfort you?”
    It shouldn’t , Conwrath mused. It wouldn’t assure me one bit. But he watched the magistrate relax slightly. “And Aern always keep their word.”
    â€œOr they are no longer Aern,” Kholster said perhaps a bit more acidly than he’d intended.
    â€œVery well.” Breemson regained his composure, smoothing his robes and wiping sweat from his brow with a hand towel. “You understand my need for assurances, of course?”
    â€œNo,” Kholster answered with a wolf-like smile. “But you have them nonetheless.”

CHAPTER 9
    GOD SPEAKER
    What do you think of the new magistrate? Vander thought at Kholster as he reentered the audience chamber. It had changed very little since the last time Kholster had seen it. The cushions covering the tiered rows of brick benches provided for the audience had been reupholstered in a dark-purple fabric Kholster couldn’t identify. Some over-soft cloth that his fingers yearned to touch. No doubt it wouldn’t hold up well.
    Overhead, a tent-like awning stretched over the entire chamber, ablating the sun’s fierceness. It depicted the goddess Shidarva in all her glory, standing in judgment over petitioners. She sat upon a simple stool. Before her, a mighty-looking warrior wielding a blue sword was shown being defeated by a small child plying a blade matching in size and shape but ablaze with blue flames. It was good work and well maintained. Kholster still didn’t understand why they didn’t just call the place a holy arena.
    Kholster saw Magistrate Breemson entering the chamber behind him, from Vander’s perspective. The man looked a prize hog walking on its hind legs in a circus. Pork , Kholster thought back. There’s a lot of meat on his bones, too. He could easily feed two of us.
    The guards who had been wise enough to clear out of Kholster’s way when he’d demanded entry to the magistrate’s inner chamber stood up straight, abandoning their unconscious comrade as the magistrate moved past them to the raised dais in the center of the chamber and approached upon the stool at its center. A stool which, Kholster noted, looked far more comfortable and ornate than the one depicted in the image which overlooked the proceedings. Breemson mounted the backless stool and cleared his throat, clearly waiting for Kholster to resume his seat in the place of waiting, exchanging an incomprehensible look with a Long Speaker and her two Long Arms seated in a recessed overlook to watch over the proceedings.
    He could at that , Vander thought back from his seat along the curved wall of the arena with the other Aern and the handful of citizens waiting to have their cases heard by the magistrate, those who hadn’t fled the chamber immediately upon the Aern’s entry. I’m told some of the Elevens Rae’en kholstered tasted their meat cooked.
    And? Kholster put his hand on his Overwatch’s shoulder as he took his place next to him, standing rather than sitting, and set himself at the ready, waiting the magistrate’s pleasure. Theoretically, old business should come first. But Kholster found that most magistrates cut straight to the big game and dealt with the Aern. Unless they felt the need to try to demonstrate their authority . . .
    They say the fat tastes better when it sizzles, but that the meat shrinks down , Vander answered, watching the magistrate undo the bundle of documents contained within the official satchel next to