by C. R. Daems
"I have your prisoners locked up safe in the storeroom. I'll be along with your dinner in a heartbeat," the innkeeper said to them.
The guards gave Tenzen and Jola respectful nods, and smiled. After a few words of introduction, the guards asked if they had news from the capital. Tenzen did most of the talking, mainly answering questions.
Jola and Tenzen relaxed at the table after the meal. Tenzen turned to the guards and said, "Sergeant Adrin, could I interest you and your soldiers in sword practice with my young sister? She is new and can use the practice."
"Yes, Mistress. We can always use the practice as well. But we only use the traditional army saber. It wouldn't be a fair weapon against a judicator's dagger."
"No need for concern. Jola will use a longsword. The difference in weapons should be good for you and for her, since the longsword is the normal weapon of the nobles."
The sergeant suggested they use the corral to the rear of the inn, since the horses, having been feed and groomed, were in the stables.
The corral's even dirt surface provided excellent footing and plenty of room to maneuver. The sergeant hesitated, giving Jola the time she needed to calm herself. After their first exchange, she slid past his parry and scored a winning touch to his chest.
Jola scored a winning hit on the next guard with little trouble. Then, a woman veteran bounded up, rattled her with a quick attack, and scored the kill. Tenzen requested a rematch, which Jola, upset with herself, also lost. Another veteran walked up and took his place for the last match. Jola quelled her anger, laughing at the stupidity of getting upset, and reclaimed her calm. The veteran lost as Jola went in close so he couldn't use his reach, and got a quick touch to his leg.
The sergeant apologized, obviously embarrassed. Tenzen just laughed and told them that she was Besnik's sister, and that Jola was their student. Returning to the taproom, they shared a flagon of wine. Tenzen spent the next hour analyzing each of their moves and explaining where they could improve. It had been a good night, and Jola went to sleep content in spite of aching muscles.
For the next three days, the guards and prisoners accompanied them as they camped beside the road. Each night, the contests continued after their evening meal. The guards found that they had a slight advantage on Jola if they attacked aggressively with complex combinations. However, as Jola began to identify the new patterns, she improved. She loved watching when they went up against Tenzen, but tried hard not to grin in delight. They found it impossible even to get a touch on her.
On the third night, Tenzen decided to match Jola against two guards simultaneously. Jola struggled for the first several matches, both terrified at the reality of two attacking at the same time and unsure of the best tactics. Mentally, she thanked Tenzen; she could only imagine what would happen if she had to fight two attackers and she'd had no practice. With Tenzen's coaching, Jola began to understand the dynamics of fighting several opponents at once. Forcing one of her opponents to move in certain ways hindered the effectiveness of the other's attack. She no longer would be a hindrance to Tenzen if it came to a real fight.
After the bouts, she spent time relaxing over a glass of wine at the campfire. She laughed and joked with the guards over their blunders and hers, as they listened to Tenzen discuss their moves and countermoves. Sometimes she learned more from her losses than from her wins.
As they finished that evening, one of the prisoners motioned to Jola. She walked toward him, curious about what he might want; the four chained prisoners usually kept their eyes down except when they looked at the guards from the corners of their eyes.
"Mistress, they are in chains, but you shouldn't get too close." The guard motioned to Sergeant Adrin, who joined her.
"Rezar here killed a merchant who he thought cheated him. He used to be a noble," Adrin said as they approached the man.
"Yes, Rezar?" Jola stopped close enough to talk, but still out of reach.
"We nobles will soon make an end of you and your old sister; I'll enjoy it when we do," Rezar said. His disheveled hair and unshaven face, distorted with anger, seemed to match his mood.
"The nobles agreed to the Seven Provinces' Treaty, which created the kingdom and the judicators." She shrugged. The man didn't know his history of Pyxus.
"Nobles were meant to rule. We've had enough of being judged by commoners like you. A new king will replace you with judicators who answer to us."
"Then what will be the point of having judicators, if they're ruled by nobles?"
"To make the commoners feel good." Rezar sneered, his face twisting.
"You're right. The nobles have a reason to fear the commoners."
"We don't fear commoners." He spat at her feet, and the woman guard shoved him back so hard his feet tangled in his chains and he went down on his ass.
"If the nobles don't fear the commoners, why worry about how they feel? Besides, the nobles agreed to the judicators because they feared the commoners." Jola turned and walked away in frustration.
"Did you hear that nonsense, Sister?" Jola said as she approached Tenzen. "Before the treaty, the nobles' cruelty resulted in riots in every province. The treaty was all that stopped an all out revolt, which would have ended the nobility. And this fool wants to return to those days."
"Yes, they are fools. But some of the nobility have always resented having to be subject to the same laws as commoners. Some believe they can go back to the old ways without any consequences."
"But the king will stop them," Jola said.
"Only if he knows who they are. We have to find out whether it's just a few troublemakers, or whether someone is organizing the troublemakers into a movement large enough to be a real threat. I suspect they're attacking judicators to keep the king from finding out."
"That's why we train every night."
"Yes. Let's hope I'm worrying over an isolated incident," Tenzen said as they walked back to the fire and their tent.
Jola chewed her lip, thinking of Judicator Lubica's death. She wouldn't be able to stand it if anything happened to Tenzen. Sometimes she tried to remember details about her real family, her mother in particular. But nothing came. The thought of losing Tenzen, too, made her sweat with panic.
* * *
They arrived at Iron Hills just before sunset. The town loomed gray and dingy against the glow of the setting sun, a dramatic change from the heavily treed road they had been traveling. As they neared the town, the trees became widely spaced and the ground became bare, gray rock. At the end of the town, massive cliffs dominated, looming over the entrance to the mines. Jola shuddered as she imagined being a prisoner in this stark land of rock, and sludge from old tailings, where nothing was green or alive.
Over the previous two hundred years, various warlords had controlled the mines, working them for as long as they could defend their claims. Only in the last sixty years had the mines been aggressively worked.
Mine conditions were dangerous, and the work grueling. Few prisoners survived more than a few years, and those who did were physically broken. The settlement of Iron Hills flourished because there were three active mines, and only one used prisoners. The settlement included the prison guards, free miners, ore-processing personnel, a variety of merchants and business owners, and their collective families.
Jola and Tenzen found the inn, the Iron Mug, on the main street into town. A coach had just arrived and passengers shouted at the coachman to hand down their baggage. Inside, the innkeeper led them upstairs to a small room with two clean beds; a maid bustled in with a steaming pitcher of water. After a wash, they returned to the dining room, where a pug nosed, rotund man dressed in a lavender silk shirt, dark blue pants and a purple, short-sleeved jacket stood waiting for them.
"Welcome to Iron Hills, Mistresses. I'm Marquess Thomas, administrator of Iron Hills and the mines. I'd appreciate it if you'd join me and my guests for dinner." He gestured them to a large round table laden with food and drink. A group of well-dressed men and women sauntered in
to join them.
"We'd be honored," Tenzen said.
"Your arrival is very timely. We have a case pending that requires a judicator. If you have time, I'd like to enlist your services."
"We have the time and would be happy to sit in judgment. Judicator Jola's new, and the experience would be beneficial." Tenzen sipped her wine. "This is excellent. Do you make it locally?"
"No, Mistress, we import it from Manito Province."
As the honored guest, Tenzen was the focus of everyone's attention. Freed from notice, Jola's mind wandered to the mines, where she might be today if not for Sister Kassandra's ability to get to the truth.
Jola wondered whether it was due to fate, luck, or destiny that she ate stuffed roasted squab while the prisoners ate gruel, a mashed up mixture of scraps and leftovers. She couldn't help but reach up and stroke her golden viper, thank Sister Kassandra for saving her and thank Naga for her precious gift.
* * *
Jola and Tenzen ate a leisurely breakfast before walking to the Iron Hills prison compound for the trial. A plain wooden chair and table sat on a crudely built platform. A small crowd stood in the square, which shimmered as waves of heat rose from the ground. It could have been the desert, except the ground was composed of dirty gray rock chips rather than yellow sand.
Jola hesitated as she noted the single chair and realized she'd be up there alone. She didn't know what she'd have done if her viper hadn't emerged from her blouse between her breasts and coiled around her neck, reminding her that she wasn't alone. A few snickers were mixed in with the gasps at the sight of the viper.
"In the name of King Nicolas, I, Judicator Jola, do hereby call this judgment in session. Captain, please read the charges," Jola said as she took her seat.
"The prisoners, known by their prison names of Dun, Art, and Pet, are accused of killing Corporal Valdrin, their guard, and attempting to escape," the captain of the prison guard read from a parchment in a loud bass voice.
The three accused prisoners stood in front of the platform, chained hand and foot, a guard behind each. The emaciated men had faces splotched with dark bruises. Pet's eyes were swollen to slits.
Tenzen had elected to sit beside the platform to the right with Marquess Thomas. She nodded for Jola to begin.
Jola suspected Tenzen wanted her to experience what it would be like when she had her own circuit. She stared out at the crowd, overwhelmed with the crushing weight of her responsibilities. People's fates depended on her seeing the full truth; the fate of Pyxus depended upon its citizens' confidence in the decisions of their judicators, which she represented. She hadn't felt the weight in Lappin, probably because Tenzen had sat on the platform with her. She reached up and stroked her viper. It wound around her hand, and its tongue caressed her cheek. With that feather touch, calmness enveloped her. Her heart sped up at the thought of exploring a new story and the challenge of giving a fair judgment.
"Captain, what was the condition of the guard's body when you found it?" Jola didn't skip pages when reading a book. She needed all the details if she was going to understand the story.
"The guard's skull was apparently crushed by a large bloody rock we found nearby, Mistress."
"And the condition of the prisoners before you had to restrain them?" The three prisoners didn't look like they had the strength to overcome a two-year-old child, much less a healthy guard. They looked like they had been on the receiving end of a beating.
"We used very little force in recapturing them, Mistress."
Jola felt the truth of the captain's statements like a warm tide. "Captain, have the prisoners been able to talk with each other since they've been captured?"
"They've been confined in separate cells since their capture."
"Captain, please have two of the prisoners taken out of hearing range." Jola waited until she knew the two couldn't hear her. Maybe this will be easy. "What's your name?"
"Dun, Mistress."
"Dun, did you kill the guard Valdrin?"
"No, Mistress. I didn't kill Valdrin. He was-" Dun stopped in mid-sentence when Jola raised her hand.
And maybe it won't be so easy. Although she sensed the truth of his statement, she had to control his responses to ensure that true statements and the truth were the same.
"Only answer my questions. Now, tell me what happened that morning in the mine with the guard Valdrin."
"Yes, Mistress," Dun said in a rush, his words almost tripping over each other in his haste to get them out. "It was late in the morning, and Valdrin was shouting and smacking everyone around with his club. He was in an ugly mood. He beat Pet for no reason and wouldn't stop. I just wanted to stop him, so I grabbed his arm. Art tried to help me. Then Valdrin tripped and fell, so we ran. We knew he'd kill us if he caught us. He'd done it to others."
Dun's story felt true; the warmth of it washed over her. Of course, truth only meant he believed what he said was true. Possibly, the fall had killed Valdrin.
"Captain, you said you found the bloody rock nearby. Can you show me, please?"
"Yes, Mistress." He took out his sword, marked an "x" on the ground, and then walked three paces and marked another "x." "About this distance from the body."
"Bring me Pet, and take Dun to another place out of hearing and away from Art."
Jola waited for Pet to be brought to her. The guards supported the prisoner between them as he stumbled in.
"Pet, did you kill the guard Valdrin?"
"No, Mistress. He was too-"
Jola's hand stopped Pet from saying any more. "Just answer my questions. Now, tell me what happened that morning in the mine."
Pet told the same story as Dun. He described how the guard had beaten him, and how the other prisoners had intervened. Jola knew Pet, too, was telling the truth. The guards led Pet away and brought Art forward, with similar results. The men believed they hadn't killed the guard, with Art and Dun asserting they had merely tried to stop Valdrin from killing Pet. According to the prisoners, Valdrin had killed several prisoners under similar circumstances.
Jola stroked her viper's head with a finger. How might the discrepancy between the prisoners' story and what had happened to Corporal Valdrin have come about? "Captain, how many guards do you have in the mines?"
"We usually have one or more guards for each group of prisoners, depending upon the size of the prisoners' work party. There are many tunnels in the iron mine, and it isn't unusual to have four or five groups working at one time in different tunnels."
"How many guards were in the mine on the day Valdrin was killed?" Jola frowned. She needed to know where everyone was in the mine that day-because it was part of the story.
"Seven, Mistress," the captain said.
"Were any other groups working in Corporal Valdrin's tunnel at the same time?"
"No, Mistress."
"And who found the body, Captain?" Jola nodded to herself. There were only two possible alternatives-one more likely than the other.
"My second-in-command, Subcaptain Earleek, Mistress. After the prisoners were recaptured, I sent him back into the mine to see what had happened to Valdrin."
Jola turned to the subcaptain. "Subcaptain Earleek, did you kill Corporal Valdrin?" She looked directly into his eyes.
Her viper curled into her hair and emerged with its head on the top of her head, staring in the same direction. The crowd, including Thomas, gasped in surprise, while Tenzen smiled. It looked as if the viper were saying "Yes, Subcaptain, tell us."
The subcaptain stood there, staring at her, his eyes wide.
"This is ridiculous," Thomas said. He turned to Tenzen. "Stop this farce. She's not just new. She's incompetent!"
"Twenty-silvers fine, Lord Thomas. Another hundred if you interrupt again," Jola said as she looked back to Earleek. Jola's viper raised itself off her head another hand and turned toward Thomas. Tenzen put a finger to her lips, indicating silence.
"Why, Subcaptain Earleek?" Jola continued, as if nothing had happened
.
"He was an evil man. He caused trouble with the other guards, besides killing some of the prisoners. When I saw him lying there, I decided it would be so easy to solve both problems," the subcaptain replied, his voice barely a whisper.
"I have reached my decision, but I'll wait to announce it until tomorrow morning. For now, please place Subcaptain Earleek in confinement." Jola rose and exited the platform. As she walked toward the inn, she wondered why they hadn't charged Valdrin with a crime or discharged him for his cruelty.
* * *
"Sister Jola, I'm not sure whether Lord Thomas is madder at you for the fine or for embarrassing him," Tenzen said as she closed the door to their room. "He turned red when he was fined and purple when the subcaptain confessed. By the way, how did you come up with the twenty-silvers fine?"
"Five for interrupting the proceeding at a critical point, five for insulting a presiding judicator, and ten for indirectly insulting you."
Tenzen laughed. "So insulting me indirectly is more important than insulting you directly?"
"Most definitely, my sister, mentor, and senior judicator." Jola's viper poked its head out of her hair as though supervising the conversation.
"Thank you, Sister. I've noticed that your viper's getting to be as unorthodox as you are. I've never seen one that seemed to take such a personal interest in events or that loved hair so much. By the way, I doubt Lord Thomas will be joining us for dinner tonight."
"I doubt he'd like to join me for dinner, since I intend to eat with the prisoners." Jola's mouth twitched into a grin. She couldn't help being curious about the prisoners' conditions.
"You didn't like roasted squab?" Tenzen laughed again. "Well, I guess I can't let my apprentice eat alone. I'll join you."
Jola hung up her ceremonial clothes on a hook and pulled on loose fitting trousers and a tunic. When they walked into the tent where the prisoners were served their two daily meals, the sergeant at the entrance started to raise his hand to stop them. At Tenzen's slight nod, he changed his mind, signaling two guards to accompany them as they got their share of gruel and water and approached one of the long tables. The prisoners strained to look at them from under lowered eyelids, a murmur going through their lines. Jola pointed to a place at the end of the table with an inward smile. The prisoners shuffled down to give them room to sit.