Faith in Law
Fifth Day of the Twelfth Month 294 AC
There is little of the hushed solemnity of those opening sessions left in the Curia, you note. As the the echoes of the herald's proclamations fade into the cool air, the hall is filled with the chatter of lords and magisters, merchants and guild leaders, governors and generals. It is respectful chatter, of course, and many eyes are turned to the throne as you take it once more to bring the session to order, but there is little of the hesitancy, almost the fear which had marked the first few weeks of the institution. A public forum, just as you had wished it to be.
One can pick out the factions at a glance from those loyal to the North or to the Old Gods, out in force, forewarned you suspect by Bloodraven, those who look to Braavos or Volantis, those who peer beyond the western sea. There are some, of course, who have not made any pledge nor joined with any faction, be it because they feel they shall be better served reserving their vote and influence on a case by case basis, as Bronze Yohn is doing, or as in the case of Mace Tyrell, no one wants to be too closely aligned with him due to the perception of Imperial displeasure. Truth be told, it is more than just a perception but you have no intention of doing anything about the periodic gusts of hot air blowing from the bench. If that is what passes for internal opposition, then all the more reason to be loyal.
In truth, your eye wanders more to the benches that hold those faithful to the Red God, like Moqorro of Volantis. They might well see in the tragic case of Ser Karl an opportunity to win privileges for their own faith. Even with new voices slowly trickling in from Westeros, there is still a large religious contingent, primarily of R'hllorists, in the Curia Vocium and while you do not suspect religion to be the primary moving force for most of them, you can imagine a world where they would align behind it to gain votes of their own from their constituents.
You can practically hear Malarys grumbling in the back of your mind about 'government by mob'. You swallow a smile that might seem strange under the circumstances and call the call to order, giving the old Duke of White Harbor the chance to say his peace. That is the purpose of this hall, after all.
"Your Majesty, Honorable Ministers, gracious colleagues, I come here today to share dark news from the North, to ask for restitution in the name of an innocent man who no longer has a voice with which to speak his case. More than that, I come to you in the hopes of learning from this grim moment and proposing a fairer law to the throne that such injustice shall never again take place..."
Thanks to the report of his valet on Garin's desk, you know the tale is he about to tell and you know the arguments he is about to make. He is a surprisingly good speaker and the words 'violation of conscience' seem designed to fill the front page of a newspaper, but that is not what most catches your eye. Rather, it is the expression of Lord Stark sitting not far away from the furious lord of White Harbor. You had expected approval perhaps for a change that billed itself as 'more just' or some measure of guilt that the miscarriage of justice was done in lands so near to Wintefell itself. Instead, you read there what you had before but glimpsed in flashes, political calculation. He knows the proposal, however impassioned, is doomed and he wants no part of it.
Had he tried to talk the Lord of White Harbor out of bringing the matter to the Curia at all? you wonder.
For a moment the Duke of Winterfell and the Duke of the Dreadfort lock gazes, not in disagreement but mutual understanding. Even your ears almost fail to catch the sigh that passes Eddard Stark's lips when he tilts his head in the smallest of nods, met by a fleeting shallow smile from Roose Bolton, like ice flashing at the surface of a pond. There must have been some disagreement about how the Eithur Fulka would approach the matter...
And then just as Bloton rises to speak, it hits you, no gods and no magics had warned Bolton and the other Northern lords. Manderly had confided in Stark and he had told the others.
"We who keep to the Old Gods and the ways of the North condemn the acts of Baron Condon. They are unjust and unworthy, and there must be restitution for them, yet that does not mean we shall allow this moment to be used in the efforts of the Faith to regain a privileged role it has so often abused in the past. It is preposterous to propose that members of any given faith should be able to evade legal proceedings. Who then is to have the right to judge them? The High Septon?" Another man might have scoffed then, but the pale lord of the Dreadfort simply lets the silence grow until it has become heavy and uncomfortable before continuing, "It does follow logically for all the protestations about individual freedom of the mind and soul. If such dispensations are to be given on religious grounds, then they may be withdrawn at the will of the leader of the religion in question." He turns to Lord Manderly. "Or would the accused in that instance be given leave to choose a new faith that he might name that as reason to deny... 'witchery'?"
Duke Umber laughs like it is a feasthall on his sixth tankard of ale, not that you think anyone is surprised. Raymum Darry looks as offended as you have ever seen the man.
At your unspoken command, the Herald slams its ceremonial staff into the floor and you again command the attention of the hall. "We have heard enough." You pause and look around the chamber to see which members of the Curia might jump in to support Manderly besides Darry. You do not find anyone quite so eager, but there are certainly a few.
"We have no intention of allowing anyone in a criminal case to willfully avoid truth finding spells, though that does not mean such spells can be used to unfairly invade one's privacy. When sorcery is utilized in this manner during a trial or during the investigation into a crime preceding a trial, the questions will be strictly limited to discovering the subject's guilt or innocence in relation to the crime or crimes being investigated and nothing more. Any attempt to deviate from these guidelines will result in ruinous fines, dismissal from service, and subsequent blacklisting throughout the Imperium."
"And what then is to be Baron Condon's fate, who is a judge and more than a judge?" the Duke of White Harbor asks.
What do you reply?
[] A steep fine (will be seen as a slap on the wrist/business as usual)
[] Forced to abdicate in favor of his son (seen as fair but likely to trouble lords as it is meddling in internal House business for something other than treason)
[] Write in
OOC: I ended up using @Goldfish since it had an almost identical vote making it 8 to 7. I hope you guys do not mind. Not yet edited.