Story

The next morning, Jonstown finally gave the Library back to Tal — at least for a few moments.

The great hall was already awake when the healer from the House of Peace entered. Her sleeve was no longer stained with blood.

— Karest made it through the night. He woke at dawn. He can speak. A little. Not for long.

Hendrik closed his tablet.

— Yesterday, you told them we would continue if he could speak.

But for Tal, the affair had already begun again several hours earlier.

The night around the House of Peace

Tal had struggled to sleep.

Beren's position, the knife, Darin's voice, Enissa's reconstruction, and above all that phrase that had become almost unbearable kept returning: we do not know.

At last, he got up.

Before going out, he performed a small ritual, less as a request for a miracle than as a way to attune his attention to Lhankor Mhy:

“The eyes see. The ears hear. The head understands. Together they serve the search for Truth.”

Then he removed the most obvious signs of a Grey Sage, put on neutral clothes, and went to the House of Peace.

He knew the risk. If he were caught prowling around the place where Karest lay, his neutrality might be called into question. If he went unrecognized, he might simply be taken for someone trying to reach the wounded man.

And even if he heard something, they would still only be words.

Tal first found a safe observation point. Too safe, perhaps. He saw white-clad figures crossing the galleries and heard footsteps, but nothing worth reporting.

So he took a greater risk.

He left his shelter, moved along the outer wall, and circled the House. Twice, he had to freeze when a healer crossed a gallery or a door opened onto the courtyard.

No one saw him.

A narrow opening let through light — and voices.

Two healers were speaking quietly. One seemed to be taking over the watch from the other.

— He woke once before the middle of the night.

— Really awake?

— Not for long. He may not even have known where he was. He grabbed my wrist.

— Did he speak?

— He asked: “Beren?”

Then:

“He still had the knife.”

The second healer asked whether she was certain of the words.

— Those words, yes.

Tal left without being discovered.

What he had heard did not prove that Beren was still attacking. Karest was badly wounded, half-conscious, and there was no way to know exactly which moment he had been thinking of.

But it was a spontaneous statement, made before any questioning.

Tal went back to bed with the phrase in his mind.

Karest speaks

In the morning, Hendrik and Tal returned to the House of Peace.

Karest lay on his side, propped up by cushions and rolled blankets. His complexion was grey. A thick bandage wrapped his flank.

The healer was clear: only a few questions. If she said it was enough, the interview would end.

Hendrik stayed back.

— Tal.

The young Sage moved close enough to hear the wounded man.

— Do you remember what happened during the raid? How were you wounded, and what happened before and after?

Karest closed his eyes, as if he had to put the events back in order.

Beren had struck him in the flank with his spear. Karest had thought his belly had been opened. Then Beren had fallen — or slipped — and his spear had ended up out of reach.

Karest had approached him.

“He still had the knife.”

It was exactly the phrase Tal had heard during the night.

Karest continued. Beren had struck upward at him from below. Karest had stepped back, then struck once with his spear. After that, he remembered only shouting and someone grabbing him before he fell himself.

Tal then asked a much harsher question.

Why had he moved toward Beren after being so badly wounded? Had he wanted to take Beren into death with him?

Karest answered immediately:

— No.

Then, more slowly:

— And I was angry. Yes. I thought he'd almost killed me.

But he denied walking toward Beren intending to die with him. He wanted Beren to stay down, to stop fighting.

— If he'd dropped his knife… I don't know what I would have done after that. But he didn't drop it. He struck at me.

The healer stepped in.

— That's enough.

The interview was over.

What we know

Outside, Tal tried to sum up the situation for Hendrik.

Karest seemed sincere to him. And he now believed Karest's statement about Beren's knife. Enissa and Karest gave two matching testimonies, while no one claimed to have seen Beren unarmed.

Hendrik corrected only the first point.

— “He seems sincere” is your judgment. Keep it, but don't confuse it with what we know.

Enissa said that Beren still had his knife and had tried to strike Karest. Karest now said the same. Beren's body was not incompatible with their accounts.

But Darin still claimed to have heard Beren say “Enough” before Karest struck him.

That phrase did not prove that Beren had actually stopped fighting. Nor did the other two testimonies prove with certainty that he had not.

Hendrik finally summed it up:

“We now have two matching testimonies about Beren's knife and his movement, and no direct testimony saying otherwise.”

Tal asked when the clans would meet.

Nothing had yet been fixed. They had been waiting to know whether Karest would survive long enough to speak. Now that he had, the representatives could meet.

Hendrik made it clear that the Sages would not decide when that meeting took place or what should happen next.

Their task was to hand over what they had established.

And Hendrik added:

— You'll be the one to speak.

Handing over the investigation

Tal wanted to speak in the name of Truth, to say what the Sages knew and what they did not know, and then leave judgment to the others.

But when he laid out the affair, one point caught immediately.

Darin straightened.

— That's not what I said. I said Beren shouted “Enough.” I recognized his voice.

The man holding the tablet then asked Tal for a simple answer: did Darin claim, yes or no, that he had heard Beren say those words?

Yes.

Tal immediately added that Darin had been about twenty paces away and that the fighting had been chaotic. That was why he had minimized his testimony.

The man with the tablet restored the distinction.

Darin claimed to have recognized Beren's voice from that distance during the fighting. The Sages could not establish that Beren had in fact spoken those words; nor could they establish that he had not.

Enissa claimed to have seen Beren, knife in hand, strike at Karest. Karest claimed the same. No witness claimed to have seen Beren unarmed, and the examination of the body remained compatible with that version.

Then the man addressed Tal directly.

— But, young Sage, it was not for you to minimize Darin's testimony. It was for you to tell us exactly what he claimed — and then exactly what your investigation did, or did not, allow you to conclude from it.

Hendrik simply confirmed:

— Correct.

The report was accepted with that distinction.

Tal fell silent.

He felt that his youth was being judged, and he had no desire to seek these men's approval. His point of reference lay elsewhere: Lhankor Mhy was his judge.

But almost immediately, a new curiosity appeared.

What do people do when they are given an incomplete truth?

After the truth

The representatives of the two clans began to speak.

Beren's clan reminded everyone that he had died defending their cattle against a raid. Karest's clan pointed out that he had nearly died from Beren's spear thrust and refused to have it called murder.

No one could establish whether Beren had actually stopped fighting.

So the discussion changed in nature.

They spoke of the cattle taken in the raid. Of their return. Of compensation for Beren's death. The Greenhaft refused to have compensation phrased as an admission of murder. The Blueberry refused to have Beren's death treated as a mere accident with no debt attached.

The words themselves became part of the repair.

Darin returned once more to “Enough.” An elder of his own clan simply placed a hand on his arm.

— We heard you.

Gradually, a form of agreement emerged.

The Greenhaft would acknowledge a debt for the death that had occurred during their raid and offer compensation. The Blueberry would not demand that Karest be declared a murderer on the basis of a surrender that had not been established.

The details would still have to be settled by those empowered to commit their clans.

No one had discovered exactly what had happened in the heart of Beren or Karest.

Yet something had still been decided.