by Jack Whyte
When I recovered a semblance of self-possession and opened my eyes, I found that my head and shoulders were supported in the lap of my wife, who was bathing my face with a wet cloth. I blinked at her and shook my head, surprised that I had not been conscious of being cradled, or of being bathed.
She frowned and leaned close to me. "Publius? You passed out. Are you in pain?"
I shook my head again and tried to reassure her, but my voice would not work. I pushed myself up from her lap, supporting myself on one elbow, and looked around me. There were dozens of people in the clearing — soldiers, and ordinary colonists of all ages. Behind me, the carpenter's cottage was an inferno, but no one was making any attempt to fight the fire. I felt dozens of eyes on me and pushed myself up until I was sitting. I coughed again, trying to clear my throat, and Luceiia offered me a cup of water. It hurt to swallow, but the result made the pain worthwhile. I gulped the entire contents of the cup, feeling the cooling, healing water spread inside me.
"Thank you," I rasped. Then I stood up and looked around more carefully. Luceiia had stood, too, and now held my elbow, supporting me against the slight sway in my stance.
"Lignus, where is he?"
"The soldiers have him in custody. He is badly burned, and in great pain."
"So is his son. Where are the women?"
"In the wagon. I brought some clothing and blankets."
"Were any of them burned? The women?"
"No, and they are warm and cared for, although they are terrified out of their wits."
I frowned at her. "Terrified? Why? Have they been harmed?"
"Of course not, Publius. But they are frightened by all that has happened. These are women who are not used to being seen, and now they are the centre of public attention. They are distraught. And they are still afraid that they will have to live with him tomorrow, after all this has died down."
"Tell them they need have no fear of that, wife. None at all."
"I have told them. They do not believe me. All this has been too sudden and they have lived in fear of him too long. One of the daughters is heavy with child."
I looked at her, seeing the stillness of her face. "His child?"
"You can't be surprised, Publius? I told you about it long ago. This only confirms my suspicions."
I was quite inexplicably at a loss for words, and I found myself making excuses for the man, suggesting that it might be someone else's child, and that we were condemning him unjustly, but Luceiia had no patience for that.
"In God's name, Publius, whose else could it be? He kept them chained to his bed, did he not?"
I sighed and conceded that she had the right of it. "He did, aye. Incest is common enough, God knows, for all that it's condemned. But this chaining of his daughters to their stall, like cattle ... I think I'll flog him personally in public."
"No, husband, you will do no such thing. You will commit him to trial by the tribunal of the Colony. The tribunal we have talked so much of setting up. He will be tried by his fellow citizens and banished from this Colony, to return only upon pain of death. His trial will mark the birth of our new system and provide sufficient unity of outrage to cement its laws. We may have reason to be grateful to Lignus the drunkard."
"Lignus the murderer, if his son does not recover. How is the boy?"
Luceiia shrugged and a frown darkened her face. "I do not know. He was still unchanged when we left home."
"Well," I said, looking around me again, "let's go and see how he is now. We'll leave some soldiers here to make sure the fire doesn't spread, but I think there's little danger. Thank God there is no wind tonight, the woods are wet after the rain of the past few days, and there are no other houses nearby. It should be safe enough. Let me go and organize things here and send these people home."
Lignus would have been a piteous spectacle, had there been an ounce of pity in my soul. Luceiia had not exaggerated, he had been badly burned about the face and head. I lodged him in a stone hut, under heavy guard, when we returned to the villa where, with an ill grace born of my resentment, I went looking once again for Cletus and directed him towards yet another patient in dire need of his healing arts. Then, and only then, did I go looking for Caius.
I found him waiting for me in the triclinium, seated in front of a blazing fire with ten of the twenty-two councillors, far more than I had expected him to rouse, grouped around him. They were talking animatedly, but fell silent when I strode limping into the room.
"Ah, there you are, Publius!" Cay rose to his feet immediately and waved me towards an empty seat placed beside his own. I could tell by the tone of his greeting that he had been discoursing already while waiting for me. His voice rang with the orotund, slightly exaggerated resonance that he used to sublime effect when dealing with gatherings he wished to dominate.
"You must have smelled the concoction Gallo is serving us. Your timing is excellent and you probably need a hot drink, for the warmth of it, if not the stimulus."
As I moved to be seated, two of the household servants stepped forward bearing trays of steaming mugs filled with Gallo's personal specialty for long, dark nights: hot milk flavoured liberally with strong honey mead. I gulped one down completely and helped myself to another as Caius resumed his seat and continued speaking in his formal, gubernatorial tone.
"I've been telling our friends here about the discussions you and I have been having recently, concerning the increase in lawlessness that seems to be surrounding us." I noticed that he specifically ignored Luceiia's role in these discussions. "And I have apologized for rousing them from their beds at such an ungodly hour, except that the seriousness of tonight's events does indeed warrant such extreme actions."
I cut short whatever it was that he had been leading up to. "It warrants more than that." I looked around the faces in the room, but spoke directly to Cay. "How is the boy?"
He cleared his throat. "I believe his condition is stable."
"No improvement? He's still comatose?"
"Yes, I am afraid he is. There has been no improvement that I am aware of."
"Have you told these people what happened to him?"
"I have."
"Have they seen him?"
"No, I did not think that was necessary. There was nothing to gain by it; nothing to see except a small boy swathed in bandages."
"Hmmm!" I made a show of counting heads, though I knew from the first exactly how many were present. "We have twelve councillors here, out of twenty-two. That gives us a quorum. I think we should convene an extraordinary meeting of the Council here and now. Were all the others invited?"
"Yes, but for one reason or another they could not come." Caius cleared his throat, with some embarrassment, I thought. "I must confess, though, my summons was not worded with sufficient strength to indicate a Council summons."
"How could it have been? No one had thought of having one then. The idea only occurred to me now. But I believe it necessary that we meet here, formally, right now. We have ample and sufficient reason and there are some imperatives that have thrust themselves upon us in the past hour. If we tackle them resolutely, now, while the situation is still unfolding, we may solve all of them and save ourselves a long and weary task in time to come. Does anyone object?"
The councillors merely shrugged and muttered, but they were amenable enough. They had to be, and I knew that, because they did not really know what the agenda of the meeting would be. The only objection came from Caius himself. "It is very late, Publius. We could be here all night."
I recognized this as a mere formality. I could not, however, define the origins of the small, half-amused smile that had twitched at the corner of his mouth before he began to speak, and I made a mental note to ask him later what had prompted it.
"I doubt it. I would like to outline the situation now in force, as I see it, and make a few specific recommendations for action. If the councillors present approve those recommendations, we should all be in bed within the hour. If there are an
y serious misgivings voiced, I shall vote to adjourn until the full Council can meet tomorrow, in which case we can still be abed within the hour."
Caius shrugged his shoulders. "That is agreeable to me. Is anyone opposed?"
No one was, and we went directly into formal session with Caius chairing. He gave me the floor and I went straight into the tale of my discovery of Simeon by the lake. I described the child's injuries in graphic terms, attempting deliberately to enlist their horror and outrage.
Then, while they were still wide-eyed with disgust, I went on to describe the events that had followed: the scene in the cottage, the women chained to the bed, Lignus's struggle to avoid arrest and the fire which, had Lignus's hut been closer to other buildings, could have been disastrous to the Colony.
Having fixed that image of the possible outcome of these events firmly in the minds of my listeners, I outlined once again the minute but steadily noticeable decline towards anarchy that was becoming apparent in the towns of the region, and even in our own small Colony. I related the story of the dilemma that would face us as lawmakers and law-enforcers as Caius had first described it to me, repeating his device of distinguishing between rules, regulations and laws, and I emphasized the need for an authoritative and supportive stance from the Council in bringing these matters before the colonists and obtaining their moral support in what we were attempting to do.
I told them that if, as I suspected, they were in agreement with the concerns and sentiments I had expressed, and if they could accept Caius's and my own analysis of what was wrong, and if they could in fact identify potential difficulties ahead for our Colony as this atmosphere of moral lassitude continued and expanded, then they must clearly see where those concerns would lead all of us as councillors. I exhorted them to take a firm stance on this issue and to do so immediately, tonight. Lignus the carpenter, I argued, had presented us with a perfect opportunity to move decisively towards ensuring the safety of everyone in the Colony. Ours was ostensibly a Christian community. Christian law was simple, I pointed out; it has only ten real rules, the Commandments, and Lignus had broken almost all of them. If his son were to die, he would be guilty of the murder of his own child. His cruelty was so appalling and his disregard for any of the basic laws of society was so profound that his conduct endangered everyone around him, even though he had as yet caused no damage to anyone other than his own family. But, and I hammered this point home with my fist on the back of a chair, if a man will brutalize his own family, could anyone be foolish enough to hope that mere compunction would prevent him eventually from harming someone else's family? Lignus had not merely transgressed, I told them, he had gone far beyond the bounds of common, human decency. The entire populace would rise up in outrage against his crimes. We, the Council, could use that outrage as an opportunity — one that we hoped would never be repeated — to further our own designs for the protection of our colonists and citizens.
I spoke for almost half an hour and no one interrupted me, and when I had finished there was silence for a spell. I had stood up, under the spell of my own eloquence, my tongue loosened and made fluent by the potency of the meaded milk and my thoughts sharpened by my unquenched anger at what had transpired. Now I remained standing, waiting for a reaction to my diatribe.
It was Vegetius Sulla who broke the silence. He was the eldest son of old Tarpo Sulla, a vigorous and outspoken member of our original Council who had died several years earlier. Unlike his fiery father, however, Vegetius spoke seldom and never without forethought, so men invariably listened carefully to what he had to say.
"Your argument is strong, Varrus. I agree with you, but what exactly are you suggesting we say and do? Be specific. Let us vote on it. I doubt, however, that we'll be abed this night. If we back your suggestions, then we'll have to prepare to present them tomorrow for some kind of ratification by the Plenary Council, at least, if not the full Colony in general assembly. I think tomorrow is going to be too important to this Colony to be embarked upon without detailed plans and strategies."
Sulla's words brought a murmur of assent from the others and I looked at Caius, silently offering him the floor. He moved his shoulders in a slight shrug and indicated with a wave of his hands that I should continue. Continuing, however, was the last thing on my mind. I had prepared the way for him, and I knew he could outline our discussions and our intentions more precisely, more concisely and with far more authority than I could.
"Good, then I will yield the floor to Caius Britannicus. In the meantime, I request your permission to leave for a short time. I should go and check on our prisoner and on the comfort of his womenfolk. He was badly burned, but not too badly injured, I hope, to enable him to avoid standing trial at a public tribunal. I will come back and report to you as soon as I know what is happening. Caius?"
I left the room as he stood up to speak and made my way directly to the stone hut where Lignus was being held. It was well guarded and well lit. Cletus was emerging as I arrived and I drew him aside, out of earshot of the guards.
"Well? How is he? Will he live?"
"Yes, he will." Cletus looked at me strangely. "Do you care, Publius?"
"Yes, Cletus, I do, but only insofar as I have need of him to help us in the governance of this Colony. I want him well enough to stand up on his feet, erect and visible, to be condemned by a public tribunal."
"Ah! I see..." Cletus's voice trailed off, and then resumed. "When?"
"Tomorrow? Is that possible?"
"My dear Publius, anything is possible, according to the good Bishop Alaric. Probability, however, is something different. Nevertheless, I think he will be well enough to stand alone for a short time tomorrow. What will happen to him after that?"
"He'll probably be banished. Exiled from the Colony and forbidden to return upon pain of death."
"No execution?"
I tried to read the expression on the physician's face, but it was too dark where we were standing, and so I merely shook my head. "No execution. Unless the boy dies. Then the father dies, too. Will the boy die?"
"He might. I do not know. Only time will tell us that. But if Lignus is not to die tomorrow, he will be able to stand trial. He will not, however, be strong enough to leave the Colony right away, nor for at least a week, more probably two. Unless, of course, you carry him to the edge of the lands and leave him there, in which case he will die tomorrow, or the day after that."
I spat, vainly trying to clear my mouth of the metallic taste of anger. "He's the barbarian, Cletus, not I. How badly is he burned?"
Cletus yawned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Not as badly as he appeared to be when first I saw him. His hair and beard are gone, but the flames were doused before the burns could penetrate too far. One side of his face, though, will be scarred. Was he splashed with oil?"
I grunted. "No, but I hit him with a torch. It had been soaked in oil."
"Of course. That's what would have caused it. His left ear is badly burned and may be completely lost."
"If that is all he loses, one small ear, he can think himself blessed. Where are his wife and daughters, do you know?"
Cletus shook his head. "No, I saw them with Luceiia, but that was before I came here. They must be up at the villa." He yawned again, hugely, and mumbled something about checking on the boy and then getting some sleep before dawn came.
I thanked him and went to find Luceiia, finding as I walked that my own eyes were feeling gritty and heavy-lidded. I drew several deep breaths of clean night air to clear my head, thankful that the slight breeze that had sprung up was blowing from the villa towards the smouldering ruin of Lignus's hut.
Luceiia was with the boy, whose condition was unchanged. She told me that she had had the carpenter's women washed and lodged in the servants' quarters, where they were now in a drugged sleep, thanks to one of Cletus's own sleeping potions. There were others around them and they would be well cared for. I told her, in turn, of what was happening at the impromptu Co
uncil meeting in the triclinium, and then I kissed her, sent her to bed and returned to the meeting, where I discovered that the proceedings were over. Caius had made his recommendations and they had been unanimously endorsed. There were some four or five hours of darkness left, and everyone had agreed to reassemble at the tenth hour in the Council room.
Word had already been issued that the following day was to be a holiday; no work parties would go out that day and a general assembly of the colonists would be held in the middle of the afternoon. New laws would be proposed by the Council for the well-being of the Colony, and after the need for them and for their preparation had been agreed upon and they had been adopted, a public tribunal would be convened to judge the case of Lignus the carpenter.
By the time the last of our visitors had said good night, I was reeling with fatigue, overwhelmed by a sense of anticlimax. Caius came to me and put his arm around my shoulder.
"Well, brother," he said, "this was a good night's work. We made great headway here, in one short session. Perhaps we should be grateful to our drunken carpenter."
"Huh! I'll show my gratitude tomorrow when I vote to commute his sentence of execution to one of banishment." I broke off, remembering. "You were laughing at me tonight. Or you were smiling. Earlier, just after I arrived, before I started talking. Why? Was I amusing in some way?"
He laughed aloud. "Ah, so you noticed! No, you were not amusing. I was merely surprised, and very pleasantly so, by the change I suddenly noticed in you, Publius, that is all."
"Change? What change? What kind of change?"
"Improvement. When you strode into that Council meeting and took it over from me, with total correctness and confidence, I suddenly realized how far you have come since you first arrived here. The Publius Varrus who came here originally would never have thought to take the floor from Proconsul Caius Britannicus. He could have done so, at any time, but he was not ready; he was not yet sufficiently at peace with himself. Nor would that same Publius Varrus have dreamed of facing, or haranguing, or influencing, or even bullying the august members of the colonial Council." He was laughing again. "Tonight, I saw you accept yourself and your role here for the first time, Publius. I saw you exercise your power in this Colony, and I grew even prouder of you than I was before. And that made me smile, but with pleasure, and the Tightness of it."