The spear shaft still vibrated beside the walkway when Polydeukes and his house guards poured from the Villa. Two of the armed guards approached Alerio.
“Stay back. Form a perimeter,” he ordered.
Once their ride pulled up, Alerio hovered over Armenius and Zenobios as he herded them to the carriage. After piling them in, the Legionary called to the driver, “Go!”
Only when the wheels were turning, did he jump on board. As the coach pulled through the gates, he pushed both men to the floorboards.
“Is he always like this?” Zenobios asked.
“Only when my life is in danger,” Armenius replied with a hint of pride in his voice.
“Well, I find it stifling,” Zenobios complained.
***
Alerio placed a javelin near every window and sat watch until after sunrise. He didn’t lay down until Armenius left the apartment for his office. At midday, the Legionary went to the baths, cleaned up, and strolled to the offices to check on the Magistrate.
“I have the Brindisi Militia looking for the musicians,” Zenobios informed him. “And questioning Polydeukes.”
“Setting up a Magistrate to be murdered by inviting him to your own party isn’t very clever,” remarked Alerio. “Did you find out if the scholars were traveling together?”
“I did have the opportunity to converse with both. They claim ignorance of the other’s travel arrangements. Each is staying with Latian friends at separate Villas.”
“That’s a lie, Master Secretary. I saw them on the road together.”
“What would be the point in hiding their acquaintance?”
“Politics or business? I have no idea. Is the Senior Magistrate available?”
“For you, Legionary, he is always free. Go right in.”
Alerio knocked on the doorframe and walked into Armenius’ office.
“I want to thank you for saving my life, again,” the Assistant Governor offered.
“In all cases, it was my job, sir.”
“Yes, of course, but still, I appreciate your devotion to duty.”
While his words were heartfelt, Armenius seemed distracted.
“Is something wrong, sir.”
“No. Well partially. There is a legal matter that requires a trial,” Armenius admitted. “What’s troubling is the petition for judges from the offended parties is short on details.”
“I’m not pleased with you on public display right now,” Alerio informed him.
“It can’t be helped, Corporal. The dispute involves Brindisians and Latians. Both sides have requested me as one of the judges. Obviously, it requires my presence in the forum. And I’m not comfortable with the second judge chosen. Muris Fallax isn’t a shining example of virtue.”
Chapter 15 – The Hook is Set
Before the sun rose completely, Alerio left Armenius’ apartment. Downstairs, he walked the hallway and passed the duty Tribune’s desk. After crossing to the back entrance of the forum, he took the short tunnel and emerged into the public standing space.
Unlike the massive wooden forum in the Capital, Brindisi’ was a paved flat with wings on either side having seven broad steps. Each had enough room to sit or stand on the treads. Constructed of brick, the venue displayed the power of the Republic and the brickmakers’ skills. Turning, his eyes climbed the steps to a platform creating the back of the forum. Originally for Generals and his command staff to review their Legionaries, Alerio noted the limitations. A Legion couldn’t place more than three Centuries in the flat. The remainder of a Legion would need to be out on the streets with some Centuries tucked away between buildings. Sans military ceremonies, Brindisi’s forum served as the location for trials with a good field of fire for arrows or spear throws. The setting made the bodyguard nervous.
Alerio mounted the first rise, took two steps, and climbed onto the next. Seven steps later, he reached the platform. Looking up, he spun slowly studying the balconies on the adjacent buildings. Too far for an accurate spear or knife throw, they did provide excellent launch points for arrows. Then he looked down the flat. Vendors pulled or pushed carts of bread, pastries, roasting meats, and wines to the outskirts of the open area. Trials not only demonstrated the law, but they also offered the public entertainment. He hopped down the steps and went to speak with the duty Tribune.
***
“And I want archers on the roofs,” Alerio instructed.
“In addition to the squad and two Sergeants,” the staff officer sneered. “Why don’t I order a couple of Centurions to attend as well?”
“An excellent idea, sir,” replied Alerio totally missing the sarcasm in the man’s suggestion.
“Do you honestly believe someone will attempt an assault on the Assistant Governor?”
“Not if there is enough security,” Alerio offered. “No barbarian horde would attack a Legion line of they were outnumbered. I’m hoping the physical presence of Legionaries and NCOs will stop all but the most fanatical assassin.”
“And if they are successful?”
“Then you and I, Tribune, will be in a wagon on the way to the Capital.”
“In a wagon?”
“That’s how they transport prisoners,” Alerio described. “Especially ones on the way to stand trial for dereliction of duty.”
“You know Corporal, upon further review, I think I’ll assign two squads and add a couple of Centurions.”
“I bow to your expertise, sir,” Alerio stated.
***
It might have been they were lost in the huge crowd or the Assistant Governor being diplomatic, but Armenius didn’t mention the armored Legionaries stationed around the forum. He led the procession through the tunnel and onto the pavers without comment. Muris Fallax, the second judge, and Zenobios followed, with Alerio bringing up the rear.
Although it was a public trial and the residents of Brindisi knew what to expect, the conversations stopped and everyone turned to watch the judges in their bright, white unadorned robes. As the trial’s evaluators climbed to the platform, the sun reflected off the fabric making Armenius and Muris glow so brightly, it almost hurt the eyes of the spectators.
Once Armenius and Muris had a moment to stand side by side in front of their chairs, the Master Secretary and Alerio walked the steps to the platform and took positions to the rear of the pure white robes. Zenobios shifted and sat behind a desk, organized pieces of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and prepared to record the proceedings.
Alerio repositioned himself on the far side of the platform. His eyes took in the Legionaries, the archers on the rooftops, and the line officers and NCOs spread throughout the forum. Pleased with the tangible deterrents and satisfied the Senior Magistrate was safe from physical harm, Alerio let out his breath and relaxed.
Then the defendant and his legal team, and the plaintiff and his team shoved through the crowd. As they settled into places on opposite sides of the forum, Alerio realized the threat to Armenius Peregrinus wasn’t a blade or an arrow’s tip.
***
“I am Armenius Peregrinus, a citizen of the Republic. You have selected me to sit in judgment of this dispute. I accept the responsibility. To the best of my abilities, I will decide impartially and follow the statutes as written in the Law of the Twelve Tablets. For this, you have my solemn oath. I am ready to hear the arguments.”
Armenius sat straight in the chair and held his head up being attentive to the procedures. Muris unfolded from his slouch, uncrossed his legs, rose and, as if giving his pledge was a bother, spoke to the gathering.
“I am Muris Fallax, a citizen of the Republic. And you have selected me to sit in judgment of this dispute. I accept the responsibility, I guess. To the best of my abilities, I will decide impartially. Oh, and follow the statutes as written in the Law of the Twelve Tablets. You have my solemn oath. I’m ready to hear the arguments. Let’s get this over with.”
Once Muris flopped down, Armenius pointed to the plaintiff.
“Landowne
r Markellos. You have petitioned this court for a grievance. State your case,” Armenius instructed.
The Brindisian farmer appeared as disinterested as Judge Muris Fallax. But he didn’t have a part to play so he could be excused for his inattentiveness. A man in a blue robe sitting beside Markellos stood and walked two steps from the farmer. The crowd moved away to give him space.
“I am Orator Tergi. Retained to represent Landowner Markellos in this serious offense,” he thundered while waving his arms around dramatically. The spectators fell back to give him room. Not out of respect but out of self-preservation. “In order to assure adherence to the Republic’s laws, I am being advised by legal scholar, Jurist Eustorgius.”
Jurist Eustorgius popped out of his chair. His muscular arms only partially hidden under the sleeves of the robe that outlined his broad shoulders. As he bowed to the judges and the defendant across the forum, his grey hair flopped forward and back.
Eustorgius was one of the reasons why Alerio knew the attack on Armenius Peregrinus wouldn’t come from an assassin’s hand. At the defendant’s table sat the other reason for Alerio’s uneasiness. Jurist Imprecari nodded his head. Taller than everyone else, even while sitting, his bushy black hair shifted in acknowledgment.
Both men, who traveled from the Capital on holiday and claimed not to know each other, had somehow ended up as legal consultants for a case presided over by Armenius Peregrinus. And curiously, on opposite sides of the disagreement. It seemed, there were more devious forces at work to injure the young Assistant Governor than a blatant attack.
Snippets of a conversation, overheard in the garden at Taranto, came back to Alerio.
The hook is set…Will it go hard on him…What do you care? If he used his brains for something other than being stupidly fair...”
As Orator Tergi began expounding on the injustice suffered by his client, Alerio crossed the platform. He stood behind the Master Secretary waiting for the orator to pause for a breath and rest his quill.
“Water is necessary for life. It’s vital for making wine and brewing beer,” Tergi stated getting laughter from the crowd. He smiled and bowed at the reaction to the statement. Then he continued. “Water sustains our health, washes our bodies, and quenches our thirst.”
The orator reached back and picked up a mug as if to highlight his point. While he sipped allowing the judges and audience to relish his opening remarks, Alerio bent down and whispered to Zenobios.
“Master Secretary. In a case like this, what harm would come to a judge based on his ruling?”
“According to the laws of the Republic, none. The Judges’ decision is binding for all even if it strays from the Tablets,” Zenobios assured him. Then, he peered around and stared into Alerio’s face. “Unless it can be proven one of the judges has taken a bribe. In that case, the punishment for breaking the oath is death. I don’t believe Senior Magistrate Peregrinus would sell his honor for any price. Do you suspect Muris Fallax of taking a bribe?”
“No,” Alerio said as Orator Tergi began speaking again.
“Our precious water comes from only a few sources. Rain, streams, rivers, ponds, lakes, but not the ocean. It’s briny and unfit to nourish our bodies and wet our lands. Hold! Did I say lands? Aha, water is necessary to irrigate our crops and quench our livestock. If there is no river and rain became scarce, as it tends to in mid-summer, where, pray tell, do we procure the life-giving liquid? Where do we get water?”
Orator Tergi stopped speaking. Turning, he looked into the faces of the crowd as if someone would answer. Then he glanced up at the judges before twisting sideways quickly and glaring at the defendant. Lifting his arm, he pointed an accusing finger.
“Where do we get water? From a well. Some are newly dug and privately owned. Others are ancient. Their diggers, and the men who placed the circular wall of stone to maintain the well, are lost to history. But their wells and the valuable water from deep in the earth remain. One ancient well, for as long as man can recall, has supplied water to all in need. But shortly after the last harvest, this bond between the labors of ancient men and the water has been cut. Chopped off as if a sword had taken an arm. At the end of the harvest, Landowner Fidenas built a wall on the southern end of his property. His spiteful, vindictive, malicious action has denied access to the waters of the well.”
Tergi held out his arms in a sign of exhaustion. Amid the boos and hisses from the spectators, he raised his arms over his head. Clasping his hands together, he bowed his head under his arched arms as if praying for strength. Just as the vocalized displeasure at the well being blocked from public access died down, the Orator revived.
“The well is now walled off from its traditional users. Neighboring farms are left dry, their crops will wither, their livestock will die of thirst, and the death of offspring will soon require funerals. All for the lack of water. All because of Landowner Fidenas’ wall.”
Anger rolled through the attendees and Tergi let it build.
“But hold!” the Orator yelled to make his voice heard above the clamor. “There is a solution. My client, Farmer Markellos, in his generosity, requires only that the offending wall be torn down. And access to the ancient well restored to the adjacent farms.”
Cheers for the easy solution erupted and Tergi, with eyes downward, faced the judges waiting for the popular opinion to sink in. When the last hurrah ended, he raised his chin and looked up at Muris Fallax and Armenius Peregrinus.
“The resolution is simple and clear. Judges, rule in favor of Farmer Markellos. Order Landowner Fidenas to remove the wall. Restore the natural order and access to the well.”
Orator Tergi strutted to his seat and sat. A serious expression on his face.
“Seems pretty easy to me,” Alerio mumbled to Zenobios. “Take down the wall.”
“The judges haven’t heard from the defendant’s Orator,” the Master Secretary informed him.
Corporal Sisera was a weapons expert and a Tesserarius of the Legion. If nothing else, he prided himself on having common sense. Not only could he not think of an excuse to keep the wall, but he also didn’t sense a trap or a reason to accuse the Senior Magistrate of bribery.
Then Orator Gyratus, the speaker for Landowner Fidenas, was invited to present the rebuttal. Once he began, Alerio wasn’t sure anymore.
Chapter 16 – Not Such a Deal
“Landowner Fidenas. Have you an answer to the charges levied against you by Farmer Markellos?” asked Armenius.
Everyone in the forum looked at the defendant.
Orator Gyratus rose slowly to his feet, stepped away from the table, and beamed a smile across the area to the plaintiff, around at the spectators, and up towards the judges.
“I am Orator Gyratus. Many of you recognize me. Some have faced me in a trial, so please do not hold that against my client,” he teased. A spattering of laughs testified to his experience and winning record. “Due to the nature of this absurd and illogical charge, we are fortunate to have the services of legal scholar, Jurist Imprecari.”
The tall man with the black bushy hair tilted his head at the mention of his name. Alerio attempted to relax as he waited for the long drawn out preamble orators loved to spew before getting to the point. Still, the lilt in Gyratus’ voice, his confidence, and good humor sent chills down the Legionary’s back.
“My fellow orator spoke of ancient men and tradition. I also will speak of the like. Except, my words will speak of learned men of old, and the tradition of law that holds our Republic together. But first, let me correct the narrative. The well in question is located far inside the property line of Landowner Fidenas’ farm. As such, animals from adjacent farms trample over my client’s crops to reach the well. But they can’t drink because there are no herders to draw from the well. Neglected by their owners, the animals graze on Landowner Fidenas crops. Plus, wagons, horsemen, and foot traffic cut across his fields further damaging his harvest.”
Gyratus plowed into the crowd forcing them to clear
a space. He broadened the area by walking in circles until he had a circular shape formed.
“As you can see around me is a circle. Now imagine my livelihood and the survival of my family depends on keeping the spot clear so my grain will grow,” the Orator demonstrated by acting out sowing seeds. Then he pulled four people from the crowd and shoved them across the opening. “And then traffic stomps through my work. What would you do?”
Gyratus let the question hang as he took each of the four and walked them part way around the circle before pushing them back into the throng.
“My client, being a resourceful man, built a road along his property lines and, I might add, between his neighbor’s property for a short distance to help travelers stay on the path and out of the fields. And per Table VII, Number 1 of The Law of the Twelve Tablets, ‘Let them keep the road in order. If they have not paved it, a man may drive his team where he likes.’ Landowner Fidenas paved every surface making it illegal to cut across his and his neighbor’s fields. And just as the spectators were guided by my hand around my circle, people used the road.”
The Orator bent at the waist in Jurist Imprecari’s direction giving the scholar credit for the use of the law. During the break, Alerio leaned over.
“Where are these farms and the well?”
Zenobios thumbed through the original petition before replying, “It’s not listed.”
“How can there be a land dispute without a surveyor plot?”
“It’s a stationary water rights issue, so a plot wasn’t required.”
“Can you find out?”
The Master Secretary stood, walked to Armenius, and whispered in the Senior Magistrate’s ear. He got back to his seat as the Orator began speaking.
“Beyond the largess of my client, he attempted to protect his fields from the animals. At first, he constructed a small fence. But the larger animals knocked it down.”
Alerio knew from his father’s farm that few domestic animals would charge a fence. Landowner Fidenas’ fence must have been of poor construction.
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