Scales Of Justice

by C. R. Daems

  "I order the city guard to take custody of Shalea and the Tasman guards. They're to be held here until the judgment of treason against the former Duke Chaney can be heard." Jola finished to total silence.

  * * *

  When Jola came down the stairs at the Hillside Inn that evening, Captain Marek was waiting for her. The innkeeper bowed them into a small private parlor. The heavy old furniture was comfortable, and she sat back, trying to relax in the padded chair. The captain radiated tension, but she was sure he wasn't ready to talk yet.

  The maid brought their dinner of mutton stew and a basket of warm bread, and the captain rose. He opened the door a crack, and then closed it with a nod.

  "Mistress, you're in real danger. I've heard rumors that several of the nobles have plans to kill you. I believe it's more than just talk. I've seen several fathers, brothers, and relatives of those nobles you sentenced leaving the city with their retainers. You haven't only punished sons of powerful men, but you've also threatened their great plan to gain more power. I believe they've blockaded the roads out of the city. If they can kill you, Marquess Stassio won't enforce your sentences, or report them to the king. They'll be ignored. I believe he supported the effort to bring in Shalea for this trial. I'll do whatever I can to protect you, but I'm limited, since the city guard is under Marquess Stassio," Marek said in a whisper. "They'll have the roads to Warring, Egon, Etzel, and Cybele in Kasava covered."

  "If you would, you can do me a favor." She took another bite of her stew.

  "I'd be glad to, Mistress, if it's in my power."

  "Find me old, tattered clothes. Bring them in any bag that isn't too conspicuous for you to carry. Bring them to my room tonight."

  "Yes, Mistress, I can do that," Marek said. He rose and excused himself. Jola finished her meal before returning to her room. She sat quietly and meditated while she awaited Marek.

  When several hours had passed and the moon had risen, Jola began to wonder if the captain was coming. At last, there was a soft knock on the door. When she opened it, she saw Marek standing in the hallway with an army blanket rolled and tied as if for traveling. She motioned him inside and softly closed the door behind him. He unrolled the blanket to reveal a blouse, skirt, pants, shawl, and jacket.

  "I wasn't sure what exactly you wanted, Mistress." Marek frowned at the clothes he had produced.

  "You've been very innovative." Jola smiled as she picked up each article and held it up to her body. She rolled them back into the blanket. "I thank you for your warning and your help."

  He nodded and slipped out of the room. After a minute, she followed. At the bottom of the stairs, she strolled through the inn and nodded to the innkeeper. "I'm going for a ride, but I'll be back later." Outside in the darkness barely lit with moonlight, she went to the stables, saddled her horse and tied on the rolled-up blanket. She left the stables and rode into the market area, where she was warmly greeted by everyone she met. She wandered through the market in an attempt to appear to have no particular destination. It took half an hour to find her way to the house Marta's parents owned.

  When they answered the door, Marta rushed up to greet her, and would have given her a hug but stopped, blushing. Marta's mother, father and brothers gathered around and welcomed her like family.

  "Can I ask a favor, Merchant Rares?" Jola asked Marta's father.

  "Anything, Mistress," Rares and his wife replied together.

  "Take my horse and saddle to the horse trader. I'd like him to mix my horse in with his other horses, until I need him. I'll pay whatever he thinks fair," Jola said, while she thought over her next move.

  "None of us will accept your money, Mistress. You've brought us the first justice we've had in several seasons."

  "May I sleep here tonight?"

  "Sleep here as long as you want," Rares said, although Jola knew he would be nervous at the thought of having her in his house with so many of the nobles mad at her.

  After much discussion, Jola finally convinced the family she wanted to sleep in a very small room off the kitchen. That night, after everyone was asleep, she changed into the street clothes Marek had brought her, wrapped her judicator's clothes in the army blanket, and slipped out of the house, carrying the pack with her.

  She wandered through streets and alleys for several hours, looking for a new home. She left behind the fine part of town and wandered through crooked streets that smelled of offal. The only figure she passed was a muttering rag picker. Just before dawn, she found a row of odd, makeshift structures that leaned drunkenly against one another. At the first one, a man cursed her as she opened the creaking, half-rotted door. She backed out. In the second, the reek was overpowering. It seemed empty until she heard a moan from a far corner. She knelt beside a pile of rags and pulled them back to uncover an old woman. She touched the woman's stick-like arm and felt a feeble pulse. Jola sighed and held her forehead in her hand for a moment. Who knows which came first? The illness? Perhaps she was just left to starve because she was old and feeble. Sick and unable to move, she lay in her own filth. Hearing no objection, Jola moved in.

  For the next five days, she looked after the woman. Jola crept out after dark to buy food for the two of them. She cleaned the old woman, and fed her the first food she had eaten in an eightday. On the sixth day, when she stepped out the door of her temporary home, three boys in their late teens, ragged and gaunt, stood in a group to block her way.

  "What are you doing here, girl?" the older boy said, pointing a finger at her.

  "Looking after the old woman."

  "Why?"

  "Because."

  "You're a smart-ass, aren't you, girl?"

  "Yea." Jola awaited the attack to come.

  "I'm Toma. This is my street. You owe me something whenever I say. Right now," the boy said with a sneer. He looked Jola up and down and then reached to grab her. Before his hand reached her, Jola grabbed his wrist with one hand, his elbow with the other, and twisted. The shoulder joint popped, and she released him. He swallowed a scream.

  "Make you a deal, Toma. You leave me alone, and I won't be any trouble." Jola's smile didn't reach her eyes. The two younger boys had been too slow to react, and now stood frozen.

  "You broke my arm, bitch!"

  "That's rat-bitch to you. And don't whine. It'll ruin your image. Besides, it's only your shoulder and-" Jola grabbed his arm and shoulder and pushed until she felt it snap into place. "It'll be fine in a day or two. Would you rather I broke your neck?"

  "No, rat-bitch," the boy said through gritted teeth, sweat beaded on his forehead.

  "I pull my own weight, but I won't be pushed around. Plenty of wealthy people to hassle without hassling each other."

  "My brother is sick. Will you look after him like you did for the old woman?"

  "Sure, I'll do that. Bring him over here with the old woman," Jola said.

  * * *

  Later that night, after she returned with food, Toma carried over his brother. The boy moaned with fever. She spent the next several days nursing her two patients. She had money to buy food and herbs, which improved the boy's health quickly. By the sixth day, he was well on the road to recovery, and itched to go back to his older brother.

  She had been hiding for twelve days. Jola figured that Tenzen would need at least two to three eightdays to reach Cybele, arrange for troops, and get back to Gotter. If she was right, Tenzen should be somewhere on her way back to Gotter soon. Jola decided she would wait a few more days, and then head for Kasava.

  * * *

  Dawn had just broken the next day when Toma slipped into her shack. "Hey, rat-bitch. I hear the nobles are searching the city for a judicator. I think it may be time for rats to make themselves scarce," Toma said with a wink. "I pull my weight too."

  "Yes, you do, Toma," Jola said. She handed the old woman a coin and wondered how long the woman would be strong enough to care for herself. Jola shook her head and decided she would have to try to think of something. Then she ch
anged into better clothes, gathered her things and wandered in the direction of the horse trader's pens. Once there, she found Sava, the horse trader, looking over a horse in the stable.

  "Trader Sava, do you've a horse that can outrun a warhorse?" Jola asked, as she looked around the pens that contained his horses. She liked her horse, but he wasn't fast. She knew he couldn't outrun the average horse, much less a warhorse.

  "Sure Mistress, I've three desert horses. A warhorse can outrun them for a mile or two. But a desert horse can gallop, rest and be ready to out-gallop any heavier horse. You'll get better speed if you keep to a trot at first. Then one of my desert horses will out-distance any warhorse in the country. Get a two-hour headstart and a warhorse will never catch you." Sava walked with her toward the three smallest horses.

  "How much?" Jola asked.

  "For you, Mistress? Nothing."

  "How about for someone you don't like?" Jola grinned.

  "Three hundred silvers."

  "How much for my horse?" Jola asked.

  "Fifty silvers. You'll need a lighter saddle on the desert horse. I'll trade you even. Total would be two hundred and fifty silvers, and I'm in no rush for the money."

  "Will you accept my marker?" Jola knew judicators' markers were like silvers, because the king honored them.

  "Of course. Even if it weren't backed by the king."

  "Thank you. I need one more favor. Do you think you can give Captain Marek a reason to come here today?" Jola asked, as her plan of escape began to take shape. She obviously couldn't just ride out through the gate, even if she didn't need a two-hour lead.

  "Easy, Mistress."

  While Sava went to find Marek, Jola spent time behind one of his feed sheds, grooming and getting acquainted with the bay gelding she had chosen. The horse skittered back every time her viper stuck its head out, so she wanted to give it plenty of time. She couldn't afford to be thrown by a spooked horse. After a number of carrots and apples, the horse seemed to decide that her friend wasn't going to bite. Several hours later, Captain Marek arrived.

  "Mistress, the nobles are going mad trying to find you. Several days ago, they decided that either you got past them, or that you were still in the city. They've called off the roadblock to concentrate on searching the city. You have them frustrated and very worried," Marek said with a laugh. "Nevertheless, you're in danger."

  "Can you do me a favor, Captain Marek?"

  "Of course."

  "I need you to take my new horse outside the city a couple of leagues and provide me with a couple of hours' headstart."

  "I can do that, Mistress. I'll ride the horse out to our practice area, and then around to the road to Kasava, where we can meet. They'll never know you're gone." Marek grinned.

  "Actually, I want them to know I've gone, after I've a two to three hours' headstart."

  Marek raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Mistress, are you sure?"

  "Yes, Sister Tenzen should be on her way back from Manito with troops. It would be nice to capture those nobles who are conspiring with Chaney."

  The plan Marek outlined was simple. He would ride out to the training camp with two troopers he trusted. They would circle around to the road to Kasava, where they would meet Jola. The two soldiers would then ride back to the practice area before they returned to town to announce that Jola had been hiding at the camp and had stolen a horse. They would claim that Captain Marek was pursuing her on the road to Kasava.

  * * *

  That night, Jola followed Toma through the dark and stinking back streets and alleys for over an hour. When they arrived at the city wall, Toma pulled back a bush to reveal a broken drain that a lean person like her could squeeze through.

  "Take care, rat-bitch," Toma said. "I think I'm going to miss you."

  "Toma, would you look after the old woman for me?"

  He shrugged. "Sure, why not."

  Jola handed him a small purse with twenty silvers in it. "You may want to have these silvers changed into smaller coins. Merchant Rares will do it for you if you tell him you helped me escape. He would also help you get apprenticed if you're interested in working." Jola knew not all street rats wanted a regular job. "If so, tell him that Judicator Jola would consider it a favor."

  "Thank you, Mistress. You made a good street rat. Good luck." Toma disappeared into the dark.

  Jola squeezed through the hole. She peered in both directions to be sure she hadn't been spotted, and then began her trek to where she hoped Captain Marek would be waiting.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Essam Province

  Jola could hear the murmur of waves from the open water to her right. She circled the city for two hours before she reached the road to Kasava and the town of Cybele. She stayed out of sight of the road and scanned for travelers and Captain Marek. She saw the horses first.

  "Mistress, I see you made it," Marek said quietly from behind a tree.

  Jola jumped and grabbed the hilt of her sword before it registered that it was him. "Am I glad to see you, Captain. I wasn't sure I was headed in the right direction, or whether you would make it out of the city with my horse."

  "A few troopers leaving the city with me is routine. No one questioned it." Marek smiled. "You need to get going, Mistress. The corporal will ride back to our practice area and then into town. He'll report that you stole a horse from the practice area, that you seemed to be headed toward Cybele, and that I and another soldier are in pursuit of you. By the time he reports, you should have a few hours' headstart. Will that be enough?"

  "More than enough. Trader Sava assured me that a desert horse can outlast any warhorse, so long as it has a two-hour lead. Thank you for everything you've done. I'll make sure the king hears of it."

  "You just make sure you get safely away. Those girls' reputations are payment enough. Damek and his friends would have branded them as whores with Shalea's help," Marek said. "Don't push that horse too hard. He can maintain a steady trot for eight hours or so, and then he'll need rest."

  Jola thanked the two troopers for their help, and then looked over her new horse. After checking that the girth was tight and shortening the stirrups, she mounted and kicked the horse into a steady trot, east toward Cybele. He was a beautiful animal with an easy gait-a pleasure to ride. Even at a trot, the land seemed to fly by as he kept a smooth, ground-eating stride that produced a steady breeze on her face. By mid-morning, after she knew she'd ridden a good eight hours, she found a quiet wooded vale a little way off the road.

  She unsaddled her horse, fed him with grain that Marek had the foresight to pack for her, and rubbed him down. With him staked where he could munch at a few blades of grass, she sat with her back to a tree and ate bread from her pack. Yes, the horse is a keeper. Jola was sure that Trader Sava had sold her one worth far more than three hundred silvers. She hoped someday she would be able to return to Gotter. She had made good friends there.

  Jola dozed where she was until the sun was at its peak, and then relieved herself, and was off again.

  * * *

  Jola shivered as she squatted next to her horse and patted the strips of cloth she had torn from a shirt to make into a bandage for his leg. The grass was damp with dew and the morning breeze cut through her shirt.

  She ignored the thump of hooves on the dirt road behind her.

  "Well, bitch, thought you could get away from us," a loud voice shouted from behind her.

  She stood and turned to face a gray-haired nobleman, surrounded by other nobles, and guards in mail armor.

  "Judicator Jola, I'm Count Stoyan," he said with a grin. "You're no different from us. You love the power of representing the king. You love to push nobles around and act like you're better than we are. How did it feel to take Lord Moriz's title and lands? Power is intoxicating, isn't it? But you're just a gutter rat who thinks she's become a royal cat. Would you like to make one last judgment, before you die?"

  "Yes, thank you, Count Stoyan. I formally charge you and the other nobles he
re with treason. You've forfeited your titles and lands." Jola frowned. "Was it worth it?"

  "You dumb bitch. You're going to die," Stoyan said through gritted teeth.

  Jola smiled as sixty Kasavan mounted warriors emerged almost silently from the trees to surround the group from Gotter. There was a rasp of metal as the Kasavans drew their swords.

  "I think Judicator Jola has an excellent question. It's one I'd put to the soldiers here who have no quarrel with judicator justice. Your lords will lose their titles and lands. If you stay and survive this encounter, you'll be guilty of having supported treason. Your reward will be death or the iron mines," Tenzen said from a horse in the center of the warriors. "Those who support the king should leave now."

  A silence grew in length as the noblemen's guards exchanged looks.

  One raised his empty hand. "We're no traitors to the king." He jerked his reins to turn his mount.

  "Wait... cowards," Stoyan screamed as he watched the soldiers ride away. He looked at the four guards that remained, his face pale. "You'll be rewarded for your loyalty."

  "I think you should step aside, Sister Jola. You've done enough," Tenzen said. Jola bowed her head and walked her horse through the ring of warriors.

  She heard Stoyan's shout as he charged. Her horse sidestepped and whinnied at the scream when Stoyan went down. She patted his neck and whispered to him as she watched the nine nobles and their retainers attack. For a few minutes, the air was filled with the clash of steel on steel, and death screams as the nobles tried to break through. She shook her head at what was little more than suicide. But they would have lost their lands and titles, and spent the rest of their lives in the iron mines-a fate worse than death for a noble.

  "Is it over?" Jola asked once things quieted, as she looked around at the carnage. Her ears still rang from the sound of battle.

  "For now." Tenzen had dismounted; she turned in a circle and surveyed the dead. "We have two choices. We can take these bodies back to Gotter and announce our judgment, or we can take the bodies to Cybele and continue on to Mitra. I want to visit Sattah and Tasman before we return to the king."