The Passion (38 page)

When the naming was finished, Elise said, "You are accused of plotting to overthrow this regime by the most devious and unworthy methods. You have conspired with the human Tessa LeGuerre, seducing her into your scheme with threats and promises, using your wit and your power over her to persuade her into actions whose consequences she was incapable of understanding, using her own innocent nature and her position in this house to further your foul ends. Is this a true statement?"

I was astonished. In that careful y couched accusation, in those bril iantly chosen words, she had not only put an end forever to any gossip that she had endangered us al by giving Tessa the human free access to this house, but she had made Tessa appear as much a victim as were any of us, therefore acquitting herself, Elise, of any accusations of bad judgement for trusting Tessa in the first place. Could her dream be saved? Could any part of her plan to one day unite the pack in commerce with humans be salvaged? This I did not know. But in one masterful stroke, in a single, careful y chosen sentence, she had snatched Denis's victory from him and returned the confidence of the pack to herself, where it belonged.

And she had done it in such a way that Denis could not argue with her.

Nor did he try. I saw in his eyes that he recognized her ploy and his own limited options and—I wil say this—he was noble in defeat. With the faintest of inclinations of his head to acknowledge she had bested him, he replied, "Mademoisel e, it is a true statement."

She continued. "You are further accused of buying a weapon for this human and of placing it in her hands, of inciting her emotions, of aiding her to penetrate the grounds during the run and instructing her as to how best to lie in wait for the pack leader so as to assassinate her with that weapon. Is any of this true?"

He answered, "Al of it is true, mademoisel e."

You must imagine how this sounded to the pack.

These were heinous crimes, cowardly, shameful.

Rather than march boldly to the Palais to confront his adversary and claim his rights, rather than chal enge the queen in lawful battle as others before him had done, he had used a human. He had purchased a weapon. He had helped the human penetrate the security of the pack by instructing her on how to reach the Queen's Trail. And he had used the power of the strong over the weak—his own manipulative abilities over human emotions—to bring about the murder of one of his own kind. This was an offense to us al . This was beneath contempt. It sickened me to hear, for this was the first time I knew the details of the plot.

And I could not bear to think about how easily my Tessa, in whom I had put so much faith, had been turned against me… if indeed she had ever been true to me at al . That was a pain that would gnaw at my gut for months to come.

Elise went on. "And when your plan failed and your human operative was captured, did you not then persuade one of your own lieutenants to infiltrate the guard in my sleeping chamber for the sole purpose of strangling me while I slept with a piece of wire you had given him?"

By this time the room practical y crackled with the outrage and repressed fury of a thousand werewolves, for though it would be against protocol to indicate by voice or manner an opinion on the charges while they were being read, what was done to their queen was done to them. And Elise gave Denis no chance to respond; she continued without a breath, "And did you at the same time murder one of my guards and free the captured human Tessa LeGuerre so that
she
might be blamed for your perfidies? You may answer."

Denis answered, quite calmly, "I did."

It was too much. The anger in the inner courtyard was so intense it made my spine prickle, tugging at the pheromone deep in the center of my brain which always responds to the smel of werewolf fury with the need to change and do battle. I was hardly the only one to fight that instinct. If we had lived a thousand years ago, Denis would have been bloody meat between our teeth by this point.

How ironic that the thing he sought most to defeat—

our civilized nature—was the one thing to which he owed his life then. But somehow, watching him, I got the impression that he was not grateful for it. He would have preferred, I think, to have died in violence, having obtained in death the savagery he had never been able to completely claim in life.

Elise said, "Denis Antonov, what have you to say to the pack?"

Ah, she took a chance there. But the right of the condemned to speak his last is an ancient and honorable one, and what could he say that would undo the damage his actions had already done?

He turned then and faced the pack. A stil ness fel as he commanded them with his gaze, and a chil went through me as I was reminded of what a powerful leader he would have made. His voice was loud and clear and reverberated like a percussive instrument through the room.

He said, "I deny nothing. You may find my crimes abominable and my methods abhorrent, but nothing that I've done was without purpose. I have used a human for my own ends. Does that not merely prove how easily they can be used? I've manipulated her emotions and persuaded her to abandon her principles. I did so effortlessly and with pride, for the principles of humans are quickly abandoned. I have used the power of my wit because I
have
the power, just as does each one of you. Should I be ashamed of this? Should you?"

He paused to let the echo of his words die down, to let the force of them settle into the solar plexus of each and every werewolf present. He swept them with his gaze, measuring them, chal enging them.

For now, he had his pack. He savored it.

"I put the weapon in her hands, it's true," he said.

"But she fired it at your queen. I put the suggestion in her head, but she thought of murder. In one afternoon this human whom you have received into your parlors, told your secrets to, pampered and preened like a pet for show, was turned from adoring sycophant into assassin. It was not difficult.

After al , the first one of us she ever met she tried to murder in his sleep with a kitchen knife, and it is this person who now stands as my severest judge."

Silence. Many had not known this. But to my surprise, Denis did not press his advantage. He was an orator, a master of drama, and he knew when to stop. He had achieved his purpose.

"These are the true statements." His voice rang out, solemnly, clearly. "This is the lesson I would leave with you. Do with me what you wil , judge me as you must. But know that, tonight, I have given my life for you."

Ah, what a spel binder he was. What a presence.

Even I, who knew him so wel , was moved to aching by that speech, and why should I not be? He meant every word of it. He knew he had no chance of escaping justice. He knew nothing he could say would change his fate. But he had used his last words to make his life count for something, to turn his loss into victory. What a leader he would have made.

For the truth is, his sacrifice was not in vain. Even today there are those who remember his speech and abide by the lessons he imparted that night.

Elise rose to her feet. "Denis Antonov, of the crimes of cowardice and treason you are found guilty. For your judgement, I turn to the one you have most grievously injured, your brother Alexander Devoncroix."

She did not have to do this. It was a gesture of extraordinary generosity on her part. She was the one whose life and regime had been threatened; she was the one who had almost lost everything to his treachery. Yet she knew my pain and my sense of betrayal; she offered me the final revenge.

She said to me, "For these crimes, you may order death, exile or mercy. What say you?"

I stepped down from the dais. My footsteps made loud clicking sounds on the stone floor which echoed throughout the deathly stil enclosure. I stepped before my brother. I looked into his eyes for the last time.

Mercy was not an option. He knew this. He expected death. He was prepared for it.

But for a werewolf, there are some things much worse than an honorable death. To be cut off from the pack, to live out one's days alone without a mate, without companionship, without protection or hunting partners or the simple sound of a voice lifted in song… life is always short in cases such as these, yet it seems to last forever.

Hardening my countenance and my heart against him, I said loudly, "Exile."

I turned my back on him, but not before I had the satisfaction of seeing the surprise in his eyes. He hadn't thought I would do it. Even then he hadn't believed I had the courage.

The pack roared its approval.

When the sound died, Elise turned to Tessa. I had just condemned my brother to a slow and torturous death, but my courage failed me at this. To face what lay ahead was more than any werewolf should be asked to bear.

But face it I must.

Elise said, "Tessa LeGuerre, human, you are accused of crimes most grievous against a people not your own. You have harmed no one. You have acted as best you knew how when confronted with choices beyond your understanding. Yet you have betrayed a trust. You have brought a weapon onto these grounds and you have fired it. You have conspired with one who is our enemy. These things cannot be denied, nor can they be accepted."

She paused for a moment to let the truth of her words settle in. As a human, Tessa would not be granted the same right to speak as Denis had been, and no werewolf present would speak for her. Only later did it occur to me that she might not have understood this, and that, if given a chance, she might have mounted some kind of defense for herself. But it had been generations since a human had come up before a werewolf tribunal, and none of us were ful y prepared for al that had taken place that night. Perhaps we can be forgiven our mistakes and oversights for this reason.

Perhaps there are some mistakes for which forgiveness is not possible.

"I turn for judgement to the one you have most grievously wronged, the one who once loved you, and brought you into our midst."

Elise spoke to me from her dais. "Alexander, this tribunal holds no power over human life. Your choices are exile, rehabilitation or mercy."

It seemed to take a lifetime before I could turn to face her. It was perhaps a few seconds.

And there she was, my Tessa, with her father's nose and generous mouth, with her huge brown eyes that had beguiled me so often… there she stood shivering in her wet clothes with her thin crushed arm strapped to her chest and her face paper white and her eyes so big, looking at me.

How could I turn my face from her? How could I harden my heart?

I stepped forward and stood there looking down at her. The huge room crowded with faces, the thousand heartbeats and breaths faded away. The brother who had betrayed me, the woman I loved, the anger and the passion, these too were gone.

There remained only Tessa and me, the memories, and a great empty mourning for what might have been.

I lifted my hand and touched her cold cheek. I caught a strand of her hair and curled it around my finger for the last time. How innocent she looked, even then. How trusting.

"Ah,
chérie
," I said softly, "how wel I have educated you,
n'est-ce pas
? I taught you the secrets of our nature. I taught you art, and music and philosophy. I taught you to stand your ground and voice your opinions and yes, you have argued wel with the best of us." Here I almost smiled, remembering how she had amused me, how proud I had been of her.

But the impulse to smile faded, if ever it had been there. "And now…" Involuntarily, my voice went husky. "I have taught you how to break my heart."

She had harmed no one. She had done nothing but be true to her own helpless human nature. Her cries, it was true, had brought the guards who captured Denis, and for that reason alone the pack would have forgiven me for ordering rehabilitation. It would have been easy to do. Looking into those big anxious eyes, I knew it would have been so easy.

I dropped my hand, I raised my head. I said in a loud clear voice, "Exile."

I saw the shock and the horror of protest fil her eyes; I heard her cry out. She had expected mercy from me. I think even Elise was surprised, for hadn't she done everything in her power to pave the way for my sentiment?

But Tessa had betrayed me, and worse, she had threatened the one I loved. I could never trust her again. I turned my back.

Beneath the approving thunder of the crowd I heard Elise whisper in concern, "Alexander…" And Tessa was screaming, struggling against the guards who held her, crying out to me, "No, you can't do that, you don't understand, you can't send me away! You don't understand, Alexander, I love you, I wil always love you, don't send me away!"

I remembered then that being sent away had always been the thing she feared the most. The memory twisted in my chest like the blade of a knife, just for a moment; then I flung up a hand to block the sound of her voice, and I walked away.

Elise began to speak. "The prisoners wil be taken aboard a Devoncroix freighter to the place cal ed Alaska, where none of us abide. There they wil be set free one day's walk from any human population.

The human wil be supplied with two days' worth of food and water, matches, and garments suitable for the climate. The other wil be given a cloak in which to hide himself. They wil be transported from this place tonight and set sail…"

I didn't hear any more. I pushed my way through the crowd, shoulders straight and eyes stern ahead. I left the courtyard, the Palais, the grounds. I didn't change, I didn't run. I just walked and walked until I couldn't hear the sound of Tessa's sobs in my head anymore.