by C. R. Daems
She followed the prince to a large stone building where the weapons were stored. There, they met with Sergeant Tolek, a gray-haired man missing an arm, who acted as quartermaster. He bowed deeply and gave her his place at his desk. He explained the entire process to Jola, including how he accounted for the weapons he issued and how he conducted an inventory each eightday. Beaming with pride, he explained how he had reorganized the storage racks to make it easier to take his eightday inventory and keep track of the weapons. His inventories had always come out right except for the last one. It had revealed the three missing swords.
Jola sensed the truth of everything he said. The orderly arrangement of the weapons impressed her. Each type had its own area, where the weapons were displayed to be easily seen for inspection, accessible for issue, and counted for inventories. The swords hung in rows of twelve along a long wall. The windowless building had one ironwood door reinforced with steel bands and secured with three locks. The swords must have been stolen while the building was open, with Sergeant Tolek inside. That meant that he and his personnel were the obvious suspects.
She walked down the line of wooden racks that held the weapons, running a finger along the bars that locked them in place and trying to decide how any could have gone missing.
"How do you count each set of weapons?" Jola said. Thousands of stored weapons had to be difficult to keep track of.
"I count the rows then multiply them by the number in each row." Tolek's smile grew even wider.
"How much is twenty rows of twelve?" Jola didn't know how many rows of swords there actually were, but she was interested in knowing how Tolek went about calculating the sums. She knew the average soldier performed multiplication by tedious addition.
"Wait one moment, Mistress," Tolek said, as he went to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Two hundred thirty-seven."
"Can I see that paper, Sergeant?" Being called "mistress" made her want to wait for Tenzen to answer. She had been comfortable with "street rat" and had gotten used to "worthless scum" and even "acolyte" while in bondage, but "mistress?" She was half this man's age.
"Yes, Mistress." Tolek handed her the paper, which she scanned. While she ran her finger along the rows of numbers, her viper slid down her arm to rest on her hand. She giggled. Tolek stood watching with his mouth open.
She found only the one error; however, it had had a ripple effect. She spent ten minutes correcting it before handing the paper back to him. "Sergeant, please take the sword inventory again."
Twenty minutes later, Tolek announced "twenty-eight" and looked at the sheet Jola had corrected. "Three hundred thirty-six! That is the number I am supposed to have, Mistress."
"Yes, Sergeant, whoever prepared your multiplication tables made an error when he multiplied twelve by fifteen. Any count over fourteen would have been off by three. Anything less would have been correct."
Jola smiled at the sergeant and then left, while he stuttered out his gratitude and praise. She returned to the practice ring looking for Tenzen. Jola found her with Prince Aquila. They were circling each other in the middle of the ring, wooden longswords in hand. Tenzen's brother acted as referee and ringmaster. Aquila swung, with a practiced stroke. Tenzen deftly sidestepped. Soon they were trading blows. He had reach on Tenzen but was still hard-pressed to defend himself. She parried and dodged his every blow. Twice, she nearly slipped inside his defense. Eventually, Besnik stepped in and stopped the contest. Both Tenzen and Aquila were breathing hard and dripping with sweat.
Aquila walked toward Jola as he used a cloth to wipe his face. "Well, Judicator Jola, when are you going to start your interviews?"
"That won't be necessary, Your Highness. Whoever prepared the multiplication tables for Sergeant Tolek made a mistake. When he used them, he was off. I fixed the error. Sergeant Tolek's new count verified that all weapons are accounted for." Jola blushed with nerves. This business of talking to royalty would take some getting used to.
"Something I could have found, if I had not been in a hurry to assume they were stolen," Aquila said, and smiled. Jola decided it was best not to comment, and was relieved when Tenzen joined them. Jola felt like a child playing an adult. Aquila didn't see the street urchin still hiding inside her, but that didn't make her comfortable talking with him as an equal.
"Judicator Tenzen, I compliment you on your newest judicator. She has solved in hours what we have been investigating for an eightday."
"Thank you, Prince Aquila. She has been everything we could ask for as a student. I expect her to be everything we could ask for as a judicator." Tenzen smiled at her. Then she turned to her brother. "Can I impose on you to work Jola on the longsword while we are in Lappin? I believe she may need the skill before we've finished our tour."
"Of course," Besnik said as he waved to Jola. "Judicator Jola, I mean no disrespect, but in the ring, I am the master and you the student. There you will be Jola, not Judicator Jola. Will that be a problem?"
"No, Master Besnik, I'm used to being called far worse." Jola laughed, and after a surprised look, Besnik joined in.
* * *
The castle courtyard, where the trial was to be held, was paved with gray stones. Jola thought that they would have seemed unpretentious if it weren't for the carved stone platform and the castle, which served as a magnificent backdrop. An exquisite tapestry of eagles in flight covered the platform, and flags and pendants flew from multiple poles alongside. She recognized the king's flag, with a double-edged sword on a red field, and Tyrol's flag, with a golden eagle on a black field. She frowned up at the other flags and pendants. Perhaps they had military significance. A beautiful, cream-colored silk canopy sheltered the platform's three chairs from the bright sunlight. She didn't think she could have brought herself to climb onto the platform if Tenzen hadn't been with her. It seemed appropriate for Princess Regina and Tenzen, but not for her. She started to sweat and a drop ran down her ribs.
On the platform, Tenzen sat in the center with Regina to her right. Jola took her place to the left. People filed in and a mutter of voices filled the air. The press of the crowd crammed people against the edges of the platform. She thought there must have been hundreds there. "In the name of King Nicolas, we, Judicator Tenzen and Judicator Jola, do hereby call this judgment in session. Captain, read the charges, please," Tenzen said to the city guard captain, who was standing in front of two men being watched by four guards.
"Freeman Conway is accused of stealing a carved statue from Freeman Fallon," the captain read aloud from a scroll, which crackled as he rolled it. He placed a statue in front of them.
"Judicator Jola, you may question the accused." Tenzen nodded to Jola, and then sat down and folded her hands in her lap. Jola was sure she saw Tenzen's lips twitch below her golden mask.
The robe, the dagger, and the viper were part of a beautiful dream; the raised platform, the crowd, and the accused were part of reality. She felt her viper wind its way around her neck and lay its head on her shoulder, staring where she stared. Her tense muscles began to uncoil. She reached up and stroked her viper. She felt as though in some long-past day she had dreamed of this-yet knew that she couldn't have.
"Freeman Conway, did you steal Freeman Fallon's statue, the one on the stand before me?" Jola said, thinking that this should be an easy judgment.
"No, Mistress," Conway said.
She felt the warmth of truth, but also sensed apprehension from Conway. "Captain, where was the statue found?"
"In Freeman Conway's house, Mistress."
Again, she felt the truth of the statement. He had obtained the statue somehow. "Freeman Conway, did you have someone else steal it from Freeman Fallon?"
"Yes, Mistress. I..."
"I knew it. He has admitted he's guilty!" Fallon stepped forward, but a guard put a hand on his shoulder.
She couldn't help the tiny smile that twitched her lips as she remembered her own trial by Sister Kassandra.
"One-silver fine, Freeman Fallon,
for interrupting the proceedings."
"Please continue, Freeman Conway. You were going to say something else?" He was guilty of theft. But why? Money? Greed? Revenge? Kassandra had always sought the why, since you had to know the why to understand the real story.
"I had to have someone steal it back from Fallon. I couldn't prove it was really mine. I bought it from a traveling merchant several years ago, but I had no proof. Who knows where a merchant like that might be? I have no way of finding him."
Conway tells the truth. An interesting problem. Without the judicator's ability to sense truth, Conway would have no way of proving he was the rightful owner. Of course, Freeman Fallon probably couldn't have proved Conway stole it from him. "Then how did Freeman Fallon get your statue?"
"I don't know, Mistress. I only know that it was stolen from my house several eightdays ago. I only learned recently that he had the statue." Conway shrugged his thin shoulders. Conway believed what he said, but what if Fallon had come by it legally?
"Freeman Fallon, did you steal this statue from Freeman Conway?" she said, still looking for the loose thread that would unravel the story.
"No, Mistress. It's mine." Fallon's face was flushed and beaded with sweat.
Jola felt the falseness of the words grate over her skin like sandpaper, and felt her viper change position. It turned in Fallon's direction.
"Another one-silver fine for lying to me. Would you like to try for three silvers?" Jola's lips twitched again, and Princess Regina gave an almost silent laugh. Jola suddenly realized that although the fine was punitive, the real intent was to maintain control over the proceeding. Reprimanding the man could result in a duel of words. Calling the guards to quiet him could disrupt the hearing. The fine provided a simple and effective method of maintaining order.
Fallon shook his head, so Jola said, "Freeman Fallon, did you steal the statue from Freeman Conway?"
"I...yes, Mistress." Fallon looked at his feet.
"Freeman Conway, how much did you pay to have it stolen back?" Jola said. The irony was that Fallon had brought the charge of theft against Conway. Otherwise, there would never have been a case.
"Four silvers, Mistress."
"I have concluded my interrogation, Judicator Tenzen," Jola said.
"You may announce your verdict."
Jola hesitated, but she couldn't argue with everyone watching. Sister Kassandra had reviewed countless cases and their verdicts with her and Rosa, but none seemed to fit this case precisely. She sighed in resignation, and chanted the hundred-year-old ritual words leading to her decision.
"Let it be known to all citizens of Pyxus that Judicator Jola has resolved beyond any man's right to question the issue before her involving Freeman Conway and Freeman Fallon. I decree the following:
"First, the statue is the property of Freeman Conway.
"Second, Freeman Conway is absolved of the charge of theft.
"Third, Freeman Fallon is to pay Freeman Conway four silvers for his cost to retrieve his property.
"Fourth, Freeman Fallon is to pay the king the two-silvers fine imposed for interrupting the proceeding, and a ten-silvers fine for stealing.
"So say the Judicators of Pyxus."
The crowd erupted into hundreds of noisy discussions and chuckles.
* * *
Regina, Aquila, and the two judicators sat in one of the castle's smaller dining rooms sipping a smooth red wine. Jola smiled. Her idea of "small" was three meters by three. This room was at least twenty meters by ten and had seating for more than thirty people. Dinner, even at the monastery, consisted of vegetables, bread, and sometimes meat. Before them lay a lavish feast that Jola could never have imagined in her wildest dreams. In platters was food that twice their number could not have eaten in three sittings, including a whole roast suckling pig and other food Jola did not recognize by sight or taste. Some had been colored and shaped into flowers and animals to nourish the eyes more than the stomach. The plates, glasses, and silverware lying in front of her, if sold, could have sustained her on the streets for a lifetime.
She had always known that the nobles lived in a different world from the common folks, but never before had she known quite how different. Princess Regina's voice jerked her out of her musings.
"I was quite impressed, Judicator Jola, by your handling of the judgment today. You did well and put on a performance I would have paid to see. It was the first laugh I have had in many an eightday. Even the crowds loved it."
"Thank you. I'm still learning, and didn't mean to trivialize the judgment," Jola said. Was it wrong if the crowds laughed? It had seemed so easy at the monastery-determine who was lying and render a verdict.
Tenzen shook her head. "You did well. Your method of maintaining control of the proceeding, while humorous, was effective. And although we are not here to please the crowds, pleasing them isn't a bad thing."
"And your resolution of our stolen swords case was certainly worth a laugh, after we got over our embarrassment of having given Sergeant Tolek a multiplication table that was off by three-the exact number of swords we were missing, Regina," Aquila said, turning to his sister.
Regina frowned into her wine glass. "I'm afraid the case tomorrow will not be as humorous, since a young noble is accused of beating a man and causing him serious injury. Tomorrow I must be present as the king's representative, since it involves a nobleman."
"If you have no objection, Princess Regina, I would like Judicator Jola to hear the case," Tenzen said. "The ruling will, of course, be subject to my approval."
"Subject to your approval, I have no objections."
Jola felt herself color as Regina scrutinized her. At the monastery, her instructors had taught that judging nobles was always a sensitive proposition, subject to a backlash from the noble's family and from the common folks. The commoners wanted equal justice. The nobles did not. While the judicators had the protection of the king, sometimes such judgments led to unpleasantness.
* * *
Jola spent the morning training with Master Besnik. Although she would have thought it impossible, he was even better than Tenzen with the longsword. He seemed to anticipate her every move, and had to wait for her to make the move so he could counter it.
After an hour, Besnik stopped. "This is the last match for today. For this, I'm going to attack you as if I were really trying to kill you. Are you ready?" Besnik stepped back and took a ready stance. Her heart began to race. They'd had many matches during the training, but they tended to be controlled and somewhat choreographed. Numb, she stepped back and took her ready stance. As she did, all motion in the yard, including Besnik's, seemed to stop. A mist slowly engulfed Besnik, his body turning into golden scales and growing until it towered over her. In the swirling mist, a viper's head replaced Besnik's.
"Well, little one, your viper is concerned about you." The huge viper's tongue flickered but no sound emerged. The sound vibrated in her head.
"Yes," Jola thought as her mouth froze. She mentally shouted, "But Besnik is a master!"
"So you are only going to fight drunks and amateurs?"
As the irony sunk in, she took a deep breath.
"You are focused on Besnik's sword, or hand, or face or... " The viper words reverberated in her mind.
"Look through him, not at him, and see everything: his sword, his body movement, his breathing, his eyes, and the pulse in his neck. Look through me!"
She did, and saw Besnik's body making subtle movements that forewarned a pending attack. Fortunately, he seemed to be in slow motion.
"Now relax. There is no reason to move until action is required. You only telegraph your intention. You move faster when your muscles are relaxed than when they are tense. Relaxed, you will be able to feel the movements of your opponent."
A peace settled over her, and the viper faded back into mist and drifted away.
Besnik attacked. His sword swung straight at her face. Her sword met his, and she twisted to force his past her. But ins
tantly, she felt the beginning of a thrust to her stomach. He lunged. Parrying and dodging, she forced his sword past her by a finger's width. Her sword slashed up as his arm went past her, and she used his momentum to drive her sword into his stomach. He grunted, and she winced. The swords were wooden, and blunted, but a thrust to the stomach still hurt.
"Damn, Jola, I hope I taught you that. I thought you weren't moving because you were tired or in shock. I now see you were waiting for me to move. Excellent." Smiling for the first time that day, he gave her a small salute, touching his sword to his forehead.
She left the practice area not knowing whether to be excited or terrified. Had she seen and talked to Naga? Or had she hallucinated? If she had hallucinated, had she really scored against Besnik?
* * *
The crowd was larger than the previous day's as Princess Regina, Tenzen and Jola stepped up onto the raised platform and took their seats. Men and women dressed in finery and jewels lined the front of the platform. When the crowd quieted, Tenzen stood to begin the proceeding.
"In the name of King Nicolas, we, Judicator Tenzen and Judicator Jola, do hereby call this judgment in session. Captain, read the charges, please."
A young nobleman in his early twenties stood next to a city guard as the captain unrolled a document and read, "Lord Kedge, son of Count Lazare, is accused of beating Freeman Jessup without justification, causing him serious injury."
Tenzen turned to Jola and said, "Judicator Jola, do you have questions for the accused?"
Jola would have liked to ask Tenzen how she, a young woman and a commoner, would question a noble. Her viper rose up and brushed its head along her cheek.
She nodded to Tenzen. "I have several questions."
Tenzen motioned for Jola to begin.
"Lord Kedge, did you beat Freeman Jessup with the intention of causing him serious injury?" She needed to determine the basic facts of the case before she moved on to the why of the story. She had to be more sensitive to the issues, as the case involved a noble who was the son of a count. No. She frowned. Lord Kedge was just a man accused of a crime, for which he was either guilty or not. He was not above or beneath the law. Her viper wound its way into her long hair and poked its head out beside her right ear as if to remind her of its presence and support.