Scales Of Justice

by C. R. Daems

  "When do I start work, Mistress?" For all this, she couldn't even imagine what they would want her to do.

  "First, there are things we want you to learn. You need to know how to read, and write and do sums. And there will be work in the gardens." Kassandra smiled at her before she closed the door.

  Jola plopped on the edge of the bed. She sat alone in a room they said was hers. She tried to remember being alone. She had found that place in the city where she'd hidden to watch. But that wasn't alone.

  The next morning she met eleven other first-year students. Eight came from families with money: merchants and tradesmen. Two were bonded servants like her. The girls from money tended to avoid or ignore the other girls, although Jessica, their unofficial leader, seemed to enjoy taunting them. She made remarks to her friends that were loud enough to be heard by the person she taunted, talked to them as if they were stupid, and ordered them around like servants. The other two girls just did what she told them. Jola kept on with what she was doing when Jessica made a snide remark to her. Jessica tried several times, but then left her alone.

  Jola's respite ended one morning while they were digging up potatoes in the field. They had worked for several hours and were hot, sweaty, and dirty.

  "Jola, be a good servant and get me and my friends something to drink. We are very thirsty," Jessica said. Her friends giggled.

  Jola kept digging. Everyone else stopped to stare. If she paid attention, it would just encourage Jessica. Were all bullies just stupid and trying to make themselves feel important?

  "Bonded servant Jola! If you do not go immediately, I will have you whipped." Jessica strutted up to Jola and grabbed her arm. Jola jerked her arm away. You fight for your rights or you learn to grovel. Whatever had happened, she had never groveled. They had beaten her into submission, but were never able to make her beg. Jessica grabbed for Jola's hair. Jola swung. Her fist sank into Jessica's belly. Jessica raked Jola's arm with her nails, so Jola hit her again and then again. Jessica fell, curling into a ball, screaming and sobbing. Jola ran toward the monastery.

  At the monastery, she marched to Mistress Kassandra's office. She looked at the door, chewing on her lip and forcing back the tears that stung her eyes. What if they sent her away? Sold her bond to someone else? A tear crept down her grubby cheek.

  "Can I help you, Jola?" Kassandra said, as she came up behind Jola, started to open her office door, and then stopped. She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and handed it to Jola. "Are you sick?"

  "I'm here for my beating," Jola said, hoping this would direct the punishment away from being banished. She was used to beatings.

  "And why do you deserve a beating?"

  "Jess ordered me to get her and her friends drinks, and I ignored her-"

  "As you should have. You are bonded to the Sisters of Astraea, not to the other students," Kassandra said.

  "Mistress, I hit her when she grabbed me."

  "You know we do not condone fighting." Her hand was smooth and cool as she held Jola's chin. "But you have a right to defend yourself. I will talk to Jessica. What she did was wrong, and if it continues, she will be told to leave."

  Jola opened her mouth but nothing came out. She'd not been punished, and Jess was in trouble. She would have to think of some way she could get her bondage extended-forever.

  * * *

  At the end of her second year, Jola got up enough nerve to knock on Kassandra's door and ask to talk.

  "Mistress Kassandra, what crime can I do to get my bondage extended? I don't want to cause too much trouble." Her heart was thumping, but she had to take a chance that Kassandra would be willing to help her.

  Kassandra gave a laugh that sounded a little choked. "My dear child, in case you haven't noticed, you are a student at the monastery of Astraea. You are free to stay as long as you don't violate our rules, or you can leave anytime you wish. It will not be necessary for you to commit any crime."

  Jola had found a home, and planned to stay for the rest of her life.

  * * *

  The next three years were wonderful and exciting. The library had stacks of books about the people of the seven provinces, the customs of merchants, business owners, traders, and the nobility, and the rudiments of each profession. When she could, she spent all day tucked in a corner with a book, reading about the wonders of the world. Doing math wasn't so much fun. At night, she bent over sums, scratching them out time after time. But she was determined not to let Kassandra down. She owed Kassandra and the Sisters of Astraea everything.

  On the last day of her fifth year, Kassandra asked her, along with the other students, whether she would like to be tested for judicator. She hugged herself and tried to sound calm when she agreed. She hardly slept that night as her thoughts flew between becoming a judicator and failing and being sent away. By morning, she was exhausted.

  At sunrise, Jola and four others waited on the broad steps of the monastery for Mistress Kassandra. Three who had been bonded and two of the wealthy girls had accepted the offer. Kassandra led them on a long, twisting trek up the narrow trail that led to the temple of Naga. Seen from the monastery, the temple glistened in the sun. Its four spiral towers soared into the clouds.

  Up close, the temple looked like the gods must have made it. White marble streaked with gold veins formed the entire structure. One spiral was at least three stories higher than its three sisters, and had a golden viper wrapped around its length. The shimmering sunlight on its golden scales made it seem to move. The sound of the wind through the trees and bushes could have been the rustling of its movements. Jola shivered.

  With the others, she followed Kassandra through two massive ironwood doors inlaid with interlocking gold vipers. The white, gold-veined marble formed the interior as well. The benches, chairs, and furniture were black ironwood. Colors danced across the walls from the stained glass windows. At the end of a long hallway, Kassandra stopped them at silver doors with inlaid gold runes. Jola puzzled over the runes, disappointed she couldn't decipher them. They looked like nothing she had seen in her studies.

  She clasped her hands in front of her and tried not to look scared as the first girl was stripped. Kassandra gave the girl a syrupy green liquid in a crystal goblet to drink, and ushered her through the doors into the chamber beyond. After a time, the girl exited, and one by one, Jola's companions took her place.

  The first three who exited the chamber didn't speak, and looked a bit dazed. Jola grasped her hands together even harder. What was the test? Had they passed or failed? Then the doors opened and the fourth girl, Rosa, had to be carried out. A chill went through Jola. Her turn had come. She was the last.

  What lay behind those beautiful silver doors? Naked now, she shivered, although the air was warm. The green drink tasted sweet, but afterward she felt as though she were floating, her feet not touching the floor. A touch on her arm directed her through a door, but it seemed strangely remote. The doors closed behind her.

  A dome soared above her. A rainbow of lights streamed in from the stained glass windows at its top and danced along carvings covering the walls. The kaleidoscope of shifting lights seemed to give them life. She watched, her mouth dropping open, as people worked, fought, and died along the walls. She recognized the long and bitter history of the founding Sisters of Astraea: their escape from oppressive clans, years of nomadic wandering, encounters with the warlords who ravaged the land at that time, and the founding of the Monastery of Astraea.

  Something didn't seem right. At the room's center, dirt was mounded. She frowned. A golden blanket covered part of the mound. It vibrated, shifting and changing its intricate design.

  She stepped toward it. How strange.

  Standing there, she felt innocent and naked like a newborn baby. She tried to remember where she was and how she got there. There must be a reason. Her mind buzzed fuzzily and the reason kept slipping away. A dizzying white fog drifted through her memory. She shivered with the chill and felt goose bumps on her legs,
arms and chest. The scent of musk and earth enveloped her. She shook her head to try to clear it. Her heart hammered. What was happening to her?

  Then the golden mantle covering the mound began to unravel. Golden-scaled snakes slithered apart.

  Her heart pounded as several slid toward her. As they moved closer, she could make out the triangular heads of asps. Curiously, the death that steadily advanced toward her looked incredibly beautiful, with golden scales, eyelash-like enlarged scales above the eyes, and the gliding motion over the marble floor. She tried to make her legs work, to run. They wouldn't move. She felt sweat trickle down her sides from her armpits. She gasped for breath, and opened her mouth to scream. Nothing came out. The sound reverberated only in her mind. She was going to die unless she moved, but she could only watch as the vipers' flicking tongues sought the heat of her body.

  A viper slid over her naked foot and coiled around her ankle. An icy sensation crept up her leg as it struck with needle-like fangs. She wanted to scream. If only she could. A second viper coiled around her other leg. Its fangs sank deep. She lost her balance and crashed onto the cold, marble floor. She breathed in the earthy scent of the golden serpents.

  * * *

  Jola woke but refused to open her eyes, afraid of seeing the golden vipers. Her joints throbbed, and a river of hot lava burned through her body. Her whole body trembled with terror. Then she realized she could feel the softness of a bed under her. She forced herself to move her fingers. A blanket covered her. Sometimes she thought she remembered a bed with warm covers and her mother singing softly as she stroked Jola's head. She wondered what had happened to make her a homeless street child. If she were dead, perhaps she would find her mother.

  "I didn't think the dead felt pain," she said, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She wasn't sure she wanted to see where she was.

  "Good, you're awake," a soft, quiet voice said.

  Jola opened her eyes. Mistress Kassandra's voice brought it all back in a rush. Kassandra had not only saved her from the iron mines, but also from years of bad food, slave labor, beatings, and abuse. Silently thanking Kassandra for the thousandth time, Jola drank the glass of water Kassandra held to her mouth and then drifted into a restful sleep.

  * * *

  "Good morning, Acolyte Jola," Kassandra said as Jola opened her eyes to the early morning light filtering through the narrow slit in the wall.

  "Acolyte? Where am I, Mistress?" Her few possessions were here. Her robe hung on the door. Her books were on a small table, and her coverlet was the same. But the old stone-gray walls of her room were now a gold-veined marble, the ceiling was higher, and the window slit was wider.

  "Now that you are an acolyte, we've moved you to the temple of Naga for the next phase of your training." A smile danced on Kassandra's gentle mouth.

  Jola smiled back at Kassandra. She felt like a different person from that stubborn, frightened girl she had been years ago. She owed her life to the Sisterhood, and she would spend it happily repaying the debt.

  Movement around Jola's neck snapped her back to the present. For an instant, she froze. The feel of the vipers in the temple's chamber, and of their needle-like fangs, made her shudder. A feeling of warmth flooded through her, then, and she relaxed. The golden viper, coiled around her neck with its tail swishing between her breasts, would be her companion for life. It proclaimed her a Judicator of Pyxus.

  She reached up to stroke the exquisite golden viper. It wrapped itself around her hand.

  "Tomorrow, you and Rosa begin your training to be judicators," Kassandra said.

  Kassandra's words sent a wave of warmth through her, starting with her fingers that touched the viper. So this was how the sisters told truth from lie. Her heart raced. She would treasure this gift for the rest of her life.

  * * *

  "Mistress Tenzen, I have two sets of clothes. Why do I need more?" Jola said. She had more than enough clothes to last for many years to come. Why was Tenzen insisting that she needed more?

  The light from the midday sun bounced off the white marble walls and lit her chamber. It had changed little in the three years she had lived there. Her two white robes, with the gold sashes that identified her as an acolyte, hung from a hook on the door. A small desk contained her writing tools, and her most prized possession, a pile of notebooks with years of class notes, stood against the wall. On her bed lay her coat, a cotton shirt and pants, underclothes, socks, slippers, boots, and her new symbols of office-her golden mask, dagger, and red ceremonial robe and cape.

  Rosa stood by the door watching. Rosa loved clothes and had spent the previous night showing Jola her new garments, trying each on and dancing around the room, her cheeks pink with excitement. She had cooed over the silk shirts, the leather pants, and the red robe. Jola had listened because Rosa was her friend-a friendship that had grown over their years as acolytes. But Jola didn't care about clothes, or their material, or their color, so long as they were comfortable and warm. And her old acolyte clothes were that.

  "You and Rosa are now judicators and must look the part. Although you and I know clothes don't make the person, a woman in tattered clothing will not get much respect from the citizens of Pyxus." Tenzen motioned toward Jola's faded, threadbare clothes, stacked neatly on her bed.

  "But Mistress, they're clean. I took care in repairing them. They'd be practical for when we are not in public. I wouldn't need so many new clothes, and they'd last longer." Jola ran her hand over the clothes she had lovingly cared for through her three years of acolyte training. Life on the streets had taught her not to abandon anything that was or could be useful. And these clothes were perfectly good. She had, during her early life, been grateful for rags.

  "I know it's hard for you to give up anything usable, and your clothes are perfectly adequate for here at the monastery." Tenzen sighed quietly. "However, a judicator is always on display. You can no longer be the old Jola: street child, bonded servant, student, or acolyte. You are and must be Judicator Jola every hour of every day, and I am your sister, no longer your mistress."

  "Yes, Mistress...Sister Tenzen. I'll do my best not to embarrass you or the other sisters." Jola knew it would be hard to change the instincts she had developed during her years of poverty. The fancy clothes wouldn't change who she was inside.

  "My dear Jola, I am not asking you or Rosa to forget your years on the streets or in bondage. Those experiences shaped you, and the golden vipers have judged you worthy. I have no worry that you will embarrass us. However, you must realize the citizens of Pyxus have an image of judicators that makes them feel safe and protected. As judicators, our responsibility is to interpret the laws fairly and to maintain that image." Tenzen frowned slightly. "Image is important. Do you understand, Judicator Jola?"

  "Yes, Sister Tenzen." Jola knew her friend Rosa would understand the importance of image, but she hadn't realized there was more to being a judicator than knowing the laws.

  "Good. Then run down to the seamstress and let her finish your new wardrobe." Tenzen waved her hand toward the door. Jola let Rosa grab her hand and pull her out.

  * * *

  Jola turned in the saddle when they reached the top of the hill. Her heart raced when she looked back at the sanctuary of the monastery. The walls enclosing the living quarters and gardens gleamed in the morning light. Behind it, the temple of Naga towered high, its gold serpent shimmering in the morning light. She suppressed a sigh as she tightened her hold on her reins, and on the pack horse she led.

  Beside her, Tenzen looked so handsome in her brown leather riding pants, red silk shirt, and short leather jacket. Her red sash supported a long dagger. The streaks of white at Tenzen's temples, against the black of her long, straight hair, made her look even more distinguished.

  Jola straightened in the saddle, determined not to look like she was wearing a disguise. She touched her ten-finger-long dagger with its red leather-wrapped handle-a viper etched into one side of its blade, and her name etched into the
other side. It was the kind of dagger a nobleman would own. She didn't feel noble; more like an actress on display. She doubted Tenzen felt like that. She tilted her chin at the same angle as Tenzen's, determined not to put her mentor to shame.

  "I worry about you traveling with only me to protect you," she said with a frown.

  Tenzen laughed. "Usually on a circuit, I travel alone. Few people care to bother a judicator. If nothing else, it's treason. And the people value us for our protection."

  "Oh." Thinking back all those years ago when she had arrived with Mistress Kassandra, she remembered they had traveled alone. That was a lifetime ago-not a lifetime, but a different life.

  Jola's thigh muscle cramped, and she shifted in the saddle. They'd studied riding during training, but classes weren't the same as a whole day in the saddle. The horses clopped down the narrow trail over the stones and loose gravel. It made the going slow.

  She gasped at the view that you couldn't really see from their valley, tucked between hills. At certain crests, jagged cliff faces, waterfalls, small lakes, and valleys with trees stretched before them to the horizon. She gave a small shake of her head. Perhaps the long ride would do her good. Maybe afterward, she would stop feeling like a child dressed up in adult clothes, learning how to walk in them for the first time.

  "Sister Tenzen, how long do you think it will take us to finish our tour of Pyxus?" She followed Tenzen as they started down a long slope that descended into the gentle, rolling hills below. For the last day, hurt muscles had cramped a little less, and she could finally concentrate on something beside her chafed legs. The distance of their planned circuit was little more than a thousand leagues. They should be able to ride that distance in three seasons.

  "At least twelve seasons, probably more," Tenzen said.

  "But it's only a thousand leagues. At ten leagues per day that would only be about thirteen eightdays, or three seasons and one eightday." She was proud of her ability to do sums in her head, although this one had been easy. It had taken months and months of slaving over sums to master them.