The Daykash then commanded the priests holding Onja to let her go. They released her arms and stepped back although they remained close enough to reclaim possession of her if need be.
“State your name for all to hear,” Breymer said.
Now Onja raised her gaze, but not to stare defiantly at her tabre judge. She looked at Dacian. “Onja,” she said, loudly and proud.
Dacian met her eyes, surprised but glad that she sought him in her time of trial. He did not dare communicate with magic in front of all the gathered Nebakarz although he had much that he wished to say to her and to ask.
“Do you understand the charge against you, Onja of Jingten?” the Daykash asked.
Onja shifted her eyes slowly toward the Daykash, as if he were a tiresome chore that she could no longer put off. “No,” she replied.
Her obtuse response nettled Breymer despite all the poise and confidence that his powerful position granted him.
“Have you never once in a hundred years been informed of the rule not to leave these mountains?” he demanded, obviously not believing her.
“I have heard the rule but saw no sense in observing that which is unreasonable. You cannot charge me with any crime for traveling upon the world that I was born into. I can go where I please,” Onja said.
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