by J. Thorn
“It is their tithing. It will not satisfy the death-lust, but it will satiate their need to taste your flesh until we climb from this cavern.”
Samada turned and walked across the cavern, passing beneath the massive arch that had held the beast. Kelsun smelled its waste, piled and hardening in various places. He placed the hand of his good arm on the taught rope and allowed Samada to lead him from the depths of one peril to another.
Chapter 25
“The laws of the land have been left across the Great Sea, waving at us like the teary-eyed face of an abandoned woman.”
The captain rolled his eyes as he looked around the room at the spectators. He nudged the man to his left with a giggling elbow.
“However, we must base our decisions on those laws, being the only we know. Those of the jury, thou must honor the scales and find not what is in thine heart, but what is in thine head.”
Shella reached into Jaithe’s lap and grabbed his hand. He looked into her eyes, projecting the steady, strong, calming influence of an expert rider on his steed.
“Shella Jaithe stands accused of unauthorized exchange with the Naturals to the detriment of the company, the Commonwealth, and the King. The yellow rock sits as evidence against her, seized from the domicile of the Jaithes. Forthwith, the court recognizes the proceedings as the legitimate legal recourse of the Commonwealth and invites naysayers the opportunity to dispute such power.”
Deale looked at the shifting folks, his eyes searching for the slightest indication that those in the room questioned the integrity of the trial. When none spoke, he continued. “I call for the prosecution to step to the bar and present the case.”
Several men stood and shuffled towards the bench. The soil of the caves clung to their best clothes, complete with torn elbows and knees. The lead prosecutor leaned and whispered into the ear of the man beside him.
Guards stood watch at the entrance to the tavern. Men moved towards the center of the room to escape the inevitable creep of the wind perforating the waddle and daub. The barrels of ale sat stacked in the corners, while the most hungry pilfered crumbs of charred meat off the floor. Newcomers and originals mingled in the cramped room while trying to hear the proceedings and catch a glimpse of the woman on trial. Brinton pushed through the people until he was able to sit next to his mother.
“Your honor,” began the man hired to prosecute Shella, “we do not often find cases in such manner as to warrant the presentation of evidence with such voracity. In fact, the bar across the Great Sea recalls a case where—”
“Git on wid it,” said the captain. Gasps of indignation filled the air.
Deale stood and addressed the room. “Good sirs and men of the Commonwealth, the process of the law must not be trifled with; it must not be usurped. I ask for your patience and faith in the matter and that the scales will balance according to the facts presented, and shall not be swayed with the expedient wind.”
The captain laughed and turned to the man on his left. “Not excluding the hot wind, it so appears.”
The man smirked and put a hand over his eyes to conceal his amusement. Deale noticed the exchange between the two men and turned his attention back to the prosecutor.
“As you spoke,” he said.
“Honorable Deale, I believe I shall forego my executed precedent and continue presenting the charge brought by the Commonwealth.”
The prosecutor glared at Captain Russell, who raised his hands in feigned exasperation.
“Please recount the narrative for the benefit of the bench and those that be present on this day.”
The man nodded. He turned to face the room and stepped onto a wooden box. His head came within an inch of the low ceiling and gave the impression that he was a giant amongst men. “Not beyond the days past, a man came to the Commonwealth with an accusation of theft. He made claims against Shella Jaithe, that she done embezzled the yellow rock, known as the gold flake, from the Naturals in an unauthorized transaction. He claimed she hid those rocks in her cave, depriving the company of their profit, the Commonwealth of the commerce, and the King of his holy right to it.”
“From whose tongue?” yelled Jaithe.
Deale motioned to a man holding a firing iron to the right of the bench. The justice cleared his throat before replying. “Should another put forth an outburst unrecognized by the bench, said person shall suffer the label of perjurer and be removed forthwith. Whether that impulse be of scabble or ‘riginal, it will be curtailed.” Deale waited before sending the armed guard back to his post. “Was a warrant provided for the search and seizure?”
“Yes, Honorable Deale. Such writ was handed to the accused in the presence of other officers of the Commonwealth.”
“How say you to this?” Deale asked Shella.
She nodded once towards the bench.
“Shall I take the gesture as one of compliance? Do you endorse the count of the prosecutor on the matter of the warrant?”
“I endorse nothing of the foul lies spewing forth on my character. Continue the pageantry as you see fit, Mr. Deale.”
The captain laughed out loud and slapped one knee with an open hand. The man with the firing iron looked at the captain and then back to Deale.
“The Commonwealth notes the defendant’s stoic, yet foolish, acceptance of said writ entered into the log of the trial. Should the Commonwealth care to bring forth a witness?”
The prosecutor nodded and turned towards the growing crowd of people shoving through the door and amassing outside in hopes of catching an earful of the drama.
“Send him forth,” said Deale.
Toman turned his thin frame sideways as he slithered through the throngs in the tavern. He slicked his hair back with animal fat and wiped the grime from his face. Toman trimmed his beard and pulled his cravat tightly to his neck.
“Be seen.”
“Honorable Deale, I am Toman, Councilman of the Commonwealth and proxy to the King himself. I bring my words to yer ears against the crimes perpetrated on our fair soil.” Toman stood with pride. He grinned with a wide mouth and foul breath.
“The bench recognizes the position of Toman and all privileges granted therein.”
The prosecutor placed his hand behind Toman and nudged him forwards until he stood beneath Deale. The man spun Toman to face the crowd and nodded.
“Mr. Deale, I mean the Honor, I happened to catch drift of some ‘riginals claimin’ the Master Jaithe’s wife be cavortin’ with the Naturals, dealin’ in commerce not authorized by the company.”
The prosecutor nodded, pleased that Toman did not stumble as he did during the rehearsal.
“And you have put your eye on such dealings?” asked Deale.
“Why, no, sir. I went to the council and asked for the writ to investigate such wild accusations. It would be the courtesy I would want should ‘nother member of council place the same accusation on me.”
Jaithe started to stand, though Shella pulled him back down. He shook his head and balled his fists.
“Once granted the right to search and seize, what did you next?”
Toman glanced at the prosecutor before continuing. “Took the group to the cave and presented the writ to the Jaithes. They obliged the law on the claim of innocence and let us search.”
“They consented?” asked Deale.
“By the nature of the writ, they so did,” replied Toman. Toman gained confidence and momentum like a loose boulder crashing down a mountain. Shella gasped and buried her face in Jaithe’s chest.
“The finds of such search resulted in a seizure.”
“Yes, they did, Honorable Deale. One nugget of the yellow rock be tucked in ’er bedroll.”
The crowd erupted in chaos while Deale slammed his hammer on the top of the bench. The guard raised his firing iron and pulled the trigger. Splinters of wood rained down on Deale, covering him in shavings and thatch. The blue smoke drifted from the rod and brought fits of coughing from those inside the tavern. Men filed out t
he door in stumbling gasps.
“Recess until my lungs have respite,” said Deale.
“We’d hope for the expediency due the wife of the head of council, Honorable Deale, should that opportunity so present itself.” Jaithe spoke the words through gritted teeth.
Deale shrugged and watched as the blue smoke floated towards the open doors. He looked at the guard, now red and shifting from one foot to the other. “Imagine that can be done, should there not be any further unwarranted discharges,” said Deale. The guard looked at the floor.
After a few moments of unsettled movement, the men returned to the tavern with the taste of firing powder on their tongues and the burn of the smoke in their eyes.
“How say you, Shella Jaithe, to the results of the writ and subsequent seizure of said contraband?”
Shella stood. She straightened her apron and pulled the strings of her head-covering taught under her chin. “I say it not be beyond a conniving hand to place ‘evidence’ in a place to the advantage of the accuser.”
Toman’s mouth dropped into a wide oval, and he shook his head as if Shella had defiled the corpse of his mother.
“Furthermore, Honorable Deale, I find the administration of the proceedings less than honorable.”
Deale stood and looked into the eyes of Shella Jaithe. Edward Jaithe stood on her right and Brinton on her left.
“I find your manner in the presence of the court to be undignified and disrespectful. My nature is to strive for the objectivity of the discourse and rule on that what is shown to my eyes. Do you wish to dispute my path, Shella Jaithe?”
“No, I do not. I wish to bring an end to this carnival of lies and sin and have you rule to the song in your heart. I will not consult the process of appeals.”
The prosecutor held his arms up and raised his eyebrows. Several of the men left the tavern or huddled near the barrels of spirits, tired and bored with the trial they no longer found interesting.
“Continue,” Deale said to the prosecutor, who turned to Toman.
“As I was want to share with the Commonwealth, Honorable Deale, the yellow rock came asunder from the roll of Madam Jaithe.”
“Were there others present to witness the seizure of the gold?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Toman, and he waved towards three men struggling to fend off the effects of the spirits consumed earlier in the day.
“You may stand down, Toman. The bench calls Shella Jaithe to stand and face her accusers before King and Commonwealth.”
Shella stood and let her fingers trail across the tips of Jaithe’s before kissing Brinton on the forehead. She walked to the bar and stood, ready to face the room. “Mr. Deale, I have said all I’m going to say. I had no prior knowledge of the evidence brought before me. I cannot prove it was not there prior to the invasion of my home. Can the scoundrel prove it was?”
Toman stiffened and thrust his chin out. Several of his men grabbed him by the elbow as if he might burst forth and will his physical superiority on the guard and Jaithe.
“I ain’t facin’ the charges, Shella.”
“Not yet,” she replied.
Deale slammed his hammer to the bench and brought the murmur to a silence. “The bench has heard all matters on said charges and will retire to deliberate on the accused. The guard will secure the accused until the deliberations are complete.”
Deale turned and walked towards the side door of the tavern, leading into a storeroom. The drunken scabble had tapped the barrels, and some began singing their songs. Others lost interest and left the tavern in search of better entertainment. Toman gathered in a corner and accepted a mug. He glanced over at the Jaithes, pretending they were nothing more than furniture tossed in the room.
“If he places his eyes on me once more, I will bash his brains out.”
Jaithe looked at Brinton and flashed a smile at Shella. “Those are not the Ways, son. Don’t let the evil tempt your hand.”
The captain’s voice rose above the rest as a shape filled the doorway. The idle chatter fell away. “’Bout damn time. You get lost in a piece o’ strange?”
***
The captain looked at Sicklemore like an owner taking stock of a runaway dog. The filthy clothes hung on what was left of his frame. His bearded chin held chunks of food, dirt, and ice, while the growth on the sides of his face appeared like the coming of the night. He used a hand to push the greasy hair back from his forehead, revealing the only semblance of white flesh untainted by the grime of the lands beyond the Commonwealth.
“Ain’t no lady gonna want my dirty lally in ’er places.”
Russell laughed, slapping Sicklemore on the back. The gesture brought a coughing fit that racked Sicklemore’s chest. He doubled over before standing with teary, bloodshot eyes.
“Heathens?”
Sicklemore nodded.
“‘Spect you left a trail of dead ones.”
Sicklemore nodded again. The captain smiled, satisfied with the answer.
“Deale be deliveratin’ on the fate of Shella Jaithe.”
“Deliberatin’.”
“Guess you’re a scholar now?”
Sicklemore smiled and accepted a mug of ale from a random hand. “I need to speak when he comes out.”
“’Bout what?”
“’Bout Shella.”
The captain raised his eyebrows as Toman interrupted his response.
“She oughta hang. Can’t be havin’ no stealin’ from the King’s coffers. Imagine the propensity of such devious makin’s.”
“I seen the plant.”
Toman dropped his mug and stepped into Sicklemore’s face. Sicklemore thrust a hand underneath Toman’s throat and clenched his thin fingers.
“I ain’t sayin’ I seen you plant. I’m sayin’ I seen the plant.”
Sicklemore tilted his head to the side and waited for Toman to nod before releasing his grip on the man’s neck. Toman fell to the floor, gasping for breath and mumbling.
Russell shook his head and laughed. He raised both hands and tapped his fingers together in mock applause. “This be much more fun than the Honorable Bore.”
As if on cue, Deale strode from the tavern closet and climbed the platform to the bench. He straightened his cloak and slammed the hammer down to reconvene the proceedings.
“Should any wish to approach before a decision be rendered?”
“The prosecution wishes to end the examination and test—”
Before the prosecutor could finish his word, Captain Russell stood and shouted over him. “Honorable Deale, I feel as though the defense of the accused mightn’t be complete till all witnesses bear to the stand, should the bench so direct such examination.”
Toman looked at the floor. Jaithe’s head spun as he scanned the men in the room. Sicklemore stood and approached the bar. He turned to look at the captain, who nodded at him.
“Honorable Deale, my eyes have seen events pertainin’ to the discourse of the proceedin’s.”
“So speak of such, Mr. Sicklemore.”
Sicklemore turned to face the Jaithes before speaking. He noticed Aiden standing at the back wall of the tavern.
“One of the scabble came from the cave.”
“When?”
“Prior to the servin’ of the writ, without the Jaithes bein’ present in it.”
A mild buzz floated around the room. Toman slapped his mug off the wall and pushed through the crowd and into the village center.
“Can you identify the scabble?” asked Deale.
Sicklemore turned and pointed at the back wall, where two men dragged a third into the room. His arms fell over the shoulders of the escorts, and his head bobbed on his chest. Sicklemore walked over and yanked the man’s head up to reveal a scarlet line across his neck and the blank stare of the dead.
***
“Pipe?”
“Could use a meal and then that strange you keep talkin’ ‘bout.”
Captain Russell laughed and shook his head. “Like to talk
first, Michael.”
Sicklemore closed his eyes and then faced the captain. “They be waitin’ on the edge of the Commonwealth.”
“Who?”
“Naturals. Thousands of them. I don’t know how, but Jaithe and his right hand—”
“Aiden?”
“Yeah, him. They got some dealins’ with the Naturals. Lookin’ to git outta the Commonwealth and set up a place where Jaithe and his cronies can dance to their gods and drink chicken piss, or whatever it is they do.”
The captain laughed again, baring the remainder of his yellow teeth. “Did he knock ya around a bit?”
“No. You can bet if the shoes had been switched, I woulda put a whippin’ on him even before he had the chance to speak.”
“Think Jaithe set ’em to it?”
“Nah. Sounds like he’s tryin’ to take care of the man, or maybe he bends over for him. I dunno.”
Russell handed Sicklemore a plate sizzling with the cooked flesh of an animal. It smelled vaguely edible but tasted bitter and gamey. Sicklemore devoured the plate along with a boiled potato and slice of moldy bread.
“Anyone else know of yer deal with Jaithe’s man?”
“Don’t suspect it. Although I imagine many gonna be wonderin’ what took place in the trial.”
“You leave that to me. We’re gonna play both sides long as we can and jump on the ship that ain’t sinkin’ just as the other one be takin’ water. You got faith in my call on that?”
Sicklemore belched and expelled flatulence. “Thought you was arrangin’ me some strange?”
Chapter 26
Ford walked the path under the weary sun of the Dark Time. His vest, once splendid and displaying the finest threads, now hung in tatters on his thin shoulders. His hat tilted to one side, and the left lens of his spectacles was missing from the frame. He clenched his shirt around his neck until he came to the edge of Jaithe’s cave.
“Come in,” said Jaithe.
“There has been excitement in the Commonwealth since my last visit.”