by Davis Ashura
The leader of House Wrestiva stood. “I will not withdraw. My son lies dead by wicked, Sentya hands. Punishment for this crime must be meted out,” he replied in a clear and firm voice.
Lin’El nodded. “So be it. The tribunal has begun. The accused is represented by his father, Dar’El Shektan. The aggrieved is Hal’El Wrestiva, ruling ‘El of his House and represents himself.” He looked to each of the named men. “I will allow each of you to call on attestants and make your claims. You will also be allowed to question your opponent’s attestants. The tribunal will be decided by a simple majority of the ‘Els who are present. As you know, in case the Chamber is evenly divided, I shall cast the deciding vote.” He paused and cleared his throat. “The tribunal begins. To the aggrieved, I say the lectern is yours.”
Hal’El stood and made his way forward. He was a proud man, with hooded eyes and a wide, flat nose broken on several occasions. His gray hair was trimmed in a simple, martial cut, and a slight limp marred his confident warrior’s gait. His one adornment was a nose ring, but with his thick frame, it gave him the unfortunate appearance of a bull wearing a nose hoop. However, unlike Suge, who had been similarly built, Hal’El was not slow, and he was not a coward. In his time, he had been a famous warrior, holding the distinction of more completed Trials – eight, all told – than anyone in living memory. The fame garnered from his accomplishments had made him the obvious choice when it came time to choose a new ruling ‘El of House Wrestiva. Initially, after rising to his position of leadership, Hal’El had developed a well-deserved reputation for ruthlessness in the furthering of his House’s ambition. But five years ago, shortly after the death of his older son during a Trial, something within Hal’El had changed, some vital spark or fire had dimmed. As a result, his energy and focus were not as they had once been, and the fortunes of his House had suffered. Rumor had it that relations among the families of House Wrestiva had grown strained.
“My fellow ‘Els, I had but one child left in this world. His name was Suge Wrestiva,” Hal’El began, his voice powerful and commanding. “My child admittedly disappointed me on many occasions. I do not seek to defend his actions on the fateful night in question. It shames me to the depths of my soul to know my own flesh and blood could have behaved in such a despicable fashion.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, as if burdened by a weight of emotion. “I cannot understand how he came to speak as he did, but he was, and always will be, my son. I loved him, and now he lays dead – and I say, needlessly so.
“As I stated, I don’t seek to defend him – he was not a saint – but I must demand each of you answer this one question: was execution the proper sentence for the words he spoke? I say no, and I am certain you all feel as I do. Certainly, he should have been brought to task and given a fitting punishment. But it would have been we, the ruling ‘Els of the Caste Kumma, who would have rendered justice upon him, not this puffed up boy, this Sentya, full of pride and anger over some perceived insult from his betters! And we would not have killed Suge. He would have offered a proper and sincere apology. House Wrestiva would have made appropriate recompense, and it would have been the end of the matter. The Sentya had no right to take his life!” He thrust an accusing finger at Jaresh and took a menacing step forward.
Nanna’s hands clamped on one of Jaresh’s from under the table, keeping him from flinching.
“I know my son, Devesh comfort him, was a poor warrior,” Hal’El continued. “I admit it. He was almost found Unworthy, but he was a Kumma. His breeding alone should have sufficed against a Muran or a Rahail, much less a Sentya. And I know you must be asking the same question, which has plagued me since that terrible night: how did a Sentya best a Kumma warrior in his prime? It is madness, but it happened, and there can be only one possible explanation, despite how unlikely it seems: this Sentya, raised as a son by the famed ruling ‘El of House Shektan, learned to conduct his Jivatma as we do, powering his speed and strength. No other explanation makes sense! I say Jaresh Shektan is Tainted. He is naaja, corrupted. He is no different than a ghrina, a cursed child of two Castes.” Hal’El shouted to the Assembly, full of righteous fury and indignation.
The Assembly broke into shouts of feigned astonishment since all knew of the Wrestiva claim from two weeks prior. The tumult went on and on, and it took several minutes of shouting and gaveling from Lin’El to silence the crowd and bring the proceedings back to order.
Jaresh looked to his nanna. “Do you think anyone believes this bilge water?”
His father shook his head. “I doubt it,” Nanna answered. “But right now, the politics of the matter take precedence.”
“I know. I was only wondering what would happen if this was a fair tribunal.”
“Fairness and politics rarely go hand-in-hand.”
Jaresh was about to answer, but Nanna motioned him to silence. Hal’El was speaking again.
“As it is said in The Word and the Deed, the Castes remain under Devesh’s grace only when we are satisfied with the obligations to which we have been tasked. For Kummas, we were given the holy duty to act as guardian warriors for all Arisa. It is who we are and what we do. It is the reason Devesh granted us our Talents and no one else.” Hal’El paused and wiped at the beaded sweat on his forehead. “And that is why I have brought forth this tribunal,” he continued. “This foul and filthy man…” He shot a murderous look at Jaresh. “This offal who should have never been conceived, lured Suge into a fight, thinking to make his fame and his name by defeating a Kumma. He chose my son, a man who was not a skilled warrior as we would measure matters; a man he assumed to be too inebriated to effectively defend himself.” Hal’El sneered in disgust. “And with his grotesque and disgraceful mastery of our Talents, this so-called man saw his opening and he took it, knowing my son to be easy meat. And with a cold and cruel calculation did he then murder my son.”
Hal’El shot another stabbing finger at Jaresh, who couldn’t help it this time: he flinched. The ruling ‘El of House Wrestiva was a forceful man, and his overwhelming sense of anger and hatred was frightening. Jaresh could tell even Nanna was unsettled by it.
“And so, for all of his cowardly actions, the murder of my son; the foul use to which he has put his Jivatma, I demand that Jaresh Shektan of House Shektan be branded with the Slash of Iniquity, to be known for time immemorial as a child of Suwraith!”
Jaresh stiffened and slammed to his feet. “How dare you!”
“You go too far!” Nanna said a beat later, also shooting to his feet.
“And yet it is the truth!” Hal’El shot back.
Jaresh was furious. He understood Hal’El’s pain, but those words…it was unforgivable. To be called a son of Suwraith was to be labeled a member of Her Sil Lor Kum, Her Hidden Hand of Justice. It was the worst kind of insult.
Nanna still quivered with anger, and he took several deep and calming breaths before speaking. “I will forgive you for your obscene words given your recent loss, but the truth is your craven and dissolute son brought his doom upon himself.”
“He did no such…”
Nanna spoke over him. “We’ve already heard your words once, Wrestiva. Once is enough. Your foolish accusations sound like nothing more than the ravings of a loon.”
Hal’El scowled. “How dare you accuse me of madness.”
“I do no such thing. I merely accuse you of being a fool and blinded by the loss of your pathetic son.”
Hal’El and Nanna stared daggers at one another, neither one flinching or looking away.
“Enough,” Lin’El said, speaking into the silence. “If Hal’El is finished with his statement, he will be seated. The floor belongs now to Dar’El Shektan.”
With a muttered curse and a last look of anger and disgust, Hal’El took his seat.
As Nanna prepared his words, Jaresh took the time to study the Chamber one more time. The ‘Els were silent as they absorbed Hal’El’s words. What Hal’El claimed was still ludicrous as far as Jaresh was concerned, but glancing
around, Jaresh noted that many of the ‘Els wore troubled expressions or had even nodded in agreement during Hal’El’s speech. Hal’El Wrestiva possessed a rare combination of charisma and speaking ability. He was the kind of man who could lead others to do great deeds or rouse them to riot.
Jaresh grimaced.
The verdict would be close.
He cut off his thoughts as Nanna began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen. My fellow ‘Els…You all know who I am and why I am here. I am not as eloquent as Hal’El. I can’t twist words and events until they bear no relationship to reality. All I can do is tell the truth. And the truth is that my son is a wonderful young man. He has done nothing wrong. He acted as a brother should and accompanied his sister and a family friend, a member of our House, to a play. Nothing more. In the Trials we are repeatedly admonished to understand the truth of a situation before seeking conflict. The caravan is always safest if a means can be found to avoid battle. It is an instruction we impart to our young from the time they can first hold a sword. Had Suge Wrestiva done as he had been taught, the tragedy of his death would not have come to pass. And had Suge Wrestiva not spoken the words he did, words so outrageous and despicable that common decency forbids me from repeating them amongst civilized company, satisfaction would not have been sought or required. My son, a Sentya by birth and Kumma by training, did as a brother must: he defended the sacred honor of his sister. It is what we would have all demanded from our sons.”
Jaresh noticed several of the ‘Els, especially those from the conservative families, shift uncomfortably in their seats. It didn’t take a Shiyen counselor to determine their sentiments. Even now, years later, few accepted the adoption of one not born a Kumma into House Shektan. And even fewer cared to understand the reasons why. For most, it was at best a puzzle and at worst, anathema. The underlying Casteism of Ashokan society was yet another obstacle standing between Jaresh and a fair hearing based on the evidence alone.
Nanna continued. “My son never sought any of this. It is true; he did kill the Wrestiva, but it wasn’t because of preconceived ill intent and malice. However, I must say, given the vile insults Suge offered to my daughter, many here would have insisted upon exactly that final retribution. But such an outcome was not what Jaresh intended. He fought to win. That’s all. He fought to defend honor, and he should be rightly applauded for his actions. Yes, I say applauded, though it ended with the death of a Kumma. After all, this wasn’t a mere Kumma. This was Suge Wrestiva, a young and angry man, full of himself. He was the worst of us: boastful, proud, and a lack-wit warrior. Even his own father admits that he was almost found Unworthy. And he should have been. Hal’El Wrestiva dares claim my son is all but a ghrina! Well, I say Suge Wrestiva was a ghrina. Or have none of you heard the scandalous rumors – rumors I know to be true – of an illicit liaison between Suge Wrestiva and a Rahail courtesan? A relationship resulting in conception, and the probable murder of the woman in question. Suge Wrestiva was killed several weeks ago, but he should have died two years ago when he fathered a ghrina. My son did us all a favor.”
“Lies! May Suwraith smite you for your calumny!” Hal’El stormed to his feet. “My son is not the accused here. It is your ill-bred son.”
Jaresh schooled his expression to stillness. Now wasn’t the time for any display of anger on his part. The ‘Els would be watching his reaction closely. They would not want to see any emotion, which could be read as disrespect toward Hal’El Wrestiva, given the death of the man’s son at his hands. Still, it was hard to have sympathy for the leader of House Wrestiva, given Hal’El’s recent words.
He looked to the gallery and sought out his mother. She sat amidst the other Shektans, and she nodded encouragement to him, smiling faintly. Jaresh smiled tightly in response. He searched further, but Bree still hadn’t arrived, and he wondered what was keeping her.
Lin’El pounded his gavel. “You will be silent, Hal’El Wrestiva,” he growled. “You will have your chance to speak again, but it will be within the dictates and traditions of this Chamber. I will not have this tribunal descend into anarchy. Now sit!”
Hal’El glared a moment longer before returning to his seat.
“Hal’El is right. It is my son, my Sentya son, the boy I chose to adopt, who faces this tribunal, and he should not have to. My son did as he was trained: defend those who need defending. He stood up to a man, a thug infamous for his bullying ways and vicious behavior; a man Jaresh knew he had no expectation of overcoming. Jaresh expected a beating, but he didn’t let his fear unman him. My son displayed a courage we should all be so fortunate to possess.”
Jaresh noticed the frowns, crossed arms, and uncomfortable shifting amongst the ‘Els. His father’s words weren’t going over very well. By insinuating that Jaresh had a valor equal to that of a Kumma’s, Nanna risked alienating the Chamber. While those of the warrior Caste knew others were courageous, such as the Murans and the Rahails, they were unwilling to believe that a mere Sentya might be their equal. After all, the greatest duel that one of the accounting Caste might face would be balancing the books every month.
Nanna smiled. “Did I mention Jaresh was chosen for his first Trial? He will be the first from his Caste to do so.”
Astonished murmurs rose around the gallery as the people took in his nanna’s words. Jaresh also breathed more easily. Several of the ‘Els, including a few from the older, more conservative Houses, who had been frowning in disapproval moments earlier, now smiled or chuckled softly in appreciation.
Nanna smiled. “As I said, I raised him, and while his blood is Sentya, his battle isn’t with accounts receivable.” Further laughter greeted this statement. “He is of us. Kumma. He has the heart of a warrior, and he did nothing wrong the night Suge Wrestiva died. He used his skills to fight an aggressor who had for too long been protected and coddled by family connections from facing the consequences of his wicked acts, especially his fathering of a ghrina. And so, Suge Wrestiva picked a fight with someone he thought to be an easy mark, speaking words only a naaja would say. Suge Wrestiva was a disgrace, not only to Hal’El Wrestiva, who fathered the coward, but also to his House and our entire Caste. He died at the hands of my son, and I sorrow for Hal’El’s loss, but still – and I know you feel the same way – we are the better for it. His own father admits he should have been found Unworthy, but what is the proper punishment for Suge Wrestiva’s actions?” Nanna paused a moment, staring out over the audience before he answered his own question. “It is the Slash of Iniquity. He would have been killed for his numerous sins, and his body left to rot on the Isle of the Crows. His death wasn’t tragic. In my estimation, it was justice long delayed.”
Hal’El glared angry death at Nanna as astonished murmurs rose in the Assembly at the harsh words spoken. Normally, one did not speak ill of the dead in the presence of their family. But just as he had done many times in the past, Nanna had once more broken with tradition, and as he sat, Jaresh gave him a reassuring squeeze on the arm. He knew what Nanna intended. Suge’s reputation had already been ruined, and now, in front of the Chamber, they would promulgate the idea that Suge’s death was an unfortunate accident, but it was also a long overdue punishment. Whether it would really matter given the underlying politics of the situation was another matter.
The Arbiter gaveled once more. “The aggrieved will now make his case,” he said.
Once more, Hal’El took the lectern and called on his attestants. The first to be named was one of Suge’s lackeys, Han Reold. He was led through the events of the night in question, lingering on how he and the other two Wrestivas felt upon seeing two Kumma women accompanied by a Sentya.
“So, you were rightly incensed by this puffed up boy daring to spend time alone with a beautiful daughter of our own Caste?”
Jaresh snorted in disgust and reddened in anger. His mood wasn’t improved as he noticed several of the ‘Els and Kummas nod in understanding as Hal’El encouraged a testimony meant to make Suge seem like a noble warrior seek
ing to protect a virtuous maiden from the grotesque advances of a thick-skulled, slavering Sentya. He recognized Hal’El’s ploy, but it wasn’t the same as accepting it, much less liking it. Jaresh was the son of Dar’El Shektan and Bree was his sister. Why shouldn’t he go to a play with her?
Fortunately, his mood improved when Nanna got a hold of the sycophantic rat. His father went straight for the jugular and forced Han to repeat what Suge had said to Bree.
The gallery gasped in shock and horror when Suge’s words were made public. Jaresh was pleased to see even the conservative ‘Els squirm in discomfort and disgust.
“He said what about my daughter? I’m sure I must have misheard,” Nanna said in flat voice, taking a menacing step forward. Upon hearing the words repeated, Nanna turned to face the gallery, fury etched on his face. “Consider those words, and consider what your actions would have been had some sodden thug dared speak such vile curses at your own daughter. Or your sister. Or your wife. Who among you would have held back?”
“I thought his words were disgraceful,” Han blurted out. “He shouldn’t have said what he said. They were indefensible.”
Nanna slowly turned back to face him. “Indefensible? As in words so ugly you would not have protected him from House Shektan’s justified retribution?”
Han nodded, looking miserable and unable to face Nanna’s scrutiny.
Nanna nodded. “Perhaps you are not entirely without character.”
Hal’El stiffened in anger at the words spoken by his kinsman. He shot a look of loathing at Han Reold. It wasn’t what he had expected the bootlicker to admit. By agreeing with Nanna’s assertion, Han had basically undercut Hal’El’s already thin argument that Suge’s actions had been justified on the night in question.
A small smile – one quickly hidden – momentarily lit Jaresh’s face. Nanna had no further questions and took his seat.
“The attestant is dismissed,” Lin’El said.