Scales Of Justice

by C. R. Daems

  "Who would like to help me keep my young judicator in practice?" she asked. Everyone who had watched for more than a few minutes realized that Jola wasn't a beginner. That made it interesting for Regina's guards, who, as veterans, welcomed the challenge. Several of them stepped forward.

  "Mistress, we would appreciate the chance to practice, but most of us only use a saber," a corporal said.

  "That will be good for Mistress Jola, and for you. For her, it will be a chance to practice against soldiers-and for you, a chance to practice against the nobleman's favorite weapon. You can go first, Corporal. The rules are simple: one score per match. When I say 'stop,' you will stop. I'll announce who I believe scored a killing or disabling blow. Any questions?"

  She drew Jola and the corporal into the middle of the circle. Over the next hour, Jola had five matches, and won three. The two matches she lost were longer than usual, and were close. As the story spread, many of the soldiers who came were interested in testing themselves against the young judicator, or in getting a second chance after they had lost to her.

  * * *

  The next five days were slow and tiring. They broke camp before dawn and traveled until near sunset. Jola looked forward to the evening matches, which had become something of a small festival and attracted more soldiers each night. Some even came from other nearby units. The matches expanded to include bouts between soldiers. Although the matches with Jola remained the main attraction each night, the company matches gave her time to rest and watch experienced soldiers' varied techniques. Most hacked and slashed, but with surprising skill and speed.

  They made Rockport, at the tip of Tyrol, on the seventh day. Marquess Fulke invited Regina's party for dinner and after-dinner entertainment. The "small" dinner included more than forty guests. Jola sat across from Tenzen, and close to Fulke, Regina, and a Lady Camilla and Lord Glaston to whom Tenzen introduced her. She felt relaxed, and had to smile behind her goblet of wine when she realized that dinners with nobles had become routine. It was, however, still a strain, having to remember all the various titles of address and to watch her choice of words. She had to admit that the food, which featured a roast pig brought whole to the table, was delicious.

  Jola thought that her viper enjoyed the party-as did the nobles around her, it seemed, after their initial shock in having an active viper so close to them. One moment her viper looked like a tiara in her hair, the next a golden bracelet on her arm, and then a necklace, all the while entering and exiting her sleeves and blouse or winding itself down her arm to inspect the food and drink.

  Lady Camilla edged a bit away, but finally couldn't seem to contain her curiosity. "Mistress, your viper seems more active than Mistress Tenzen's viper. Is her viper better trained?"

  "No, Lady Camilla. We don't train our vipers. They stay with us out of choice, and have minds of their own."

  "Mistress, what kind of food does it like?" Lord Glaston put in.

  "None. The golden vipers are vampires. They subsist on blood alone."

  Lady Camilla's mouth dropped open and she gulped. "Whose blood?"

  "Their mistress's."

  This silenced her dinner companions for a moment, and Jola saw Tenzen giving her a small, amused smile.

  Lord Glaston finally spoke up, his voice a bit faint. "But they're poisonous, aren't they?"

  "Yes, so please don't touch me or them."

  "What if they bite you?" Lady Camilla said.

  "Judicators are immune to their poison." Jola hid her smile as she took a sip of her wine. At that, her companions apparently decided that they wanted to concentrate on the fancies of spun sugar being served. She glanced toward Tenzen and suspected she was chuckling behind her own goblet.

  Jola felt relieved when the night ended, and she could retreat to the comfort of the rooms she shared with Tenzen.

  "Sister Jola, your viper was the main entertainment tonight. I have to admit, it fascinates me with its antics," Tenzen said as they strolled back to their rooms.

  "It's funny. It appears interested in everything. I don't think it cares about people's reactions." Jola stroked the viper's head where it rested on her shoulder, as she reflected on its actions over the past season.

  "Just like a little god," Tenzen said with a laugh.

  * * *

  The army broke camp at dawn, and began its march toward Lanham, the Manito capital. Regina's party stayed to have a late breakfast with Fulke and his immediate family. Around noon, they mounted and rode after the column. Regina stopped several times to talk with the captains who commanded the various Horse units. By the evening stop, Regina and her group were again at the head of the column.

  The next ten days were mostly uneventful, with long days in the saddle and their little tournaments after the evening meal. Jola noticed that Princess Regina and Commander Besnik were on the sidelines almost every night. Jola overheard Besnik tell Regina that he thought the matches were an excellent idea. It not only relieved the boredom of the march, but it kept the soldiers sharp. On the tenth night out of Rockport, they were only one day's ride from Lanham when they stopped. After the meal and a small rest, Jola had the first match. She wasn't sure how her opponents were selected. Somehow the soldiers seemed to know not only who her opponents were each night, but also their order. As Jola stepped into the circle with Tenzen and looked around, she was surprised to find that no one had entered the ring.

  "What's wrong? Is everyone afraid of hurting me? I promise not to go crying to my big sister if I lose." She was answered with good-natured laughs.

  "If you promise," Besnik said as he walked into the ring. "I certainly don't want my older sister angry with me."

  Jola stood there in shock. Sister Tenzen was good, but her brother was even better, since he spent every day teaching soldiers how to use weapons. Forget that, she chided herself as she cleared her mind in preparation for the match. By the time Besnik reached her and took a ready position, Jola was also ready. She saw his smile, which didn't extend to his eyes. The rustle of the wind and Besnik's breathing were the only sounds.

  "Begin," Tenzen said, stepping back.

  They stood there for several heartbeats without moving, like two statues. Then Besnik attacked. She sensed his movement and met it with a parry. A flurry of strikes and counterstrikes followed before they stepped back. Again, a moment went by without any movement, and then another flurry of strikes and counterstrikes. Jola saw an opening and lunged. Besnik parried, and followed with a quick thrust. She stepped back and lowered her sword in a sign of defeat.

  "I saw no point scored, Sister Jola," Tenzen said, looking back and forth between the two.

  "Master Besnik scored against my sword hand. The strike would have disabled me. The match is his." She saluted him with her sword to her forehead, and then dropped the point to the ground.

  The ground shook as the soldiers stomped their feet and banged on their shields in appreciation. It had been a long time since anyone managed to stand against Besnik.

  "You've improved greatly since last we practiced," Besnik said, lowering his sword.

  "Thanks to you, and to your sister's instruction."

  Jola decided that one match with Besnik was enough for the night. She walked with Princess Regina toward the tents.

  "That was an impressive performance," Regina said. "I didn't know that the judicators were so well trained in the use of the longsword."

  "Thank you, Princess Regina. Sister Tenzen gave me extra training, knowing that our investigation in Essam would be dangerous. I've had the luxury of training with every member of her family, and with soldiers we've met on the road or in the cities. It's saved my life more than once in the past season."

  "I must arrange a match between you and my brother, with your permission, of course. He prides himself in being almost as good as Commander Besnik, and has bested me several times," Regina said with a small, wicked chuckle. "One must keep her brother from becoming insufferable."

  In the afternoon the f
ollowing day, Jola and the rest of Princess Regina's personal party sat at the head of the army atop a hill that overlooked Manito's capital. The Royal Horse contingent sat on their horses nearby as Besnik gave his captains a few last minute orders for making camp. After he was satisfied with the preparations, he signaled the guards and they rode toward the castle. A captain leading a small detail met them on the road with an invitation from His Grace to stay at his castle.

  With the additional guards, they cantered through the gates. Manito Province's ruler Duke Greer, a dignified middle-aged man, stood in the courtyard waiting to greet them.

  "Greeting, Princess Regina. It's an honor to have you visit Manito. It has been many years since I've seen you or your brother. Is he with you?"

  "No, Lord Greer. He's commanding a second force that will travel through Rador and Essam. I plan to meet him in Tasman after I speak with Duke Waller in Sattah. Apparently, some of Duke Waller's nobles don't believe they are subject to our father's rule," Regina said from her mount.

  Duke Greer's mouth dropped open but he didn't respond. They all dismounted and handed over their reins to the stable boys. Duke Greer led Regina, Besnik, and the judicators into his private office, where Regina handed him a copy of her father's edicts.

  "Here is King Nicolas's order for a levy, for you and your Horse units. We expect all of the province's leaders to come along on this campaign to ensure that there is no misunderstanding about what transpires in Essam, Sattah, and Tasman," Regina said.

  "Yes, of course. I'll need a few days to organize a force, and the necessary supplies to support it." Greer pinched his lips with his fingers as if deep in thought.

  The dinner that night was subdued as Regina gave the guests an edited version of the judicators' recent encounters. By mutual agreement, everyone decided to retire early-the Manitons because they needed the time to prepare, and Regina's party because it had been a long day.

  "Will you sleep well with no sword practice tonight?" Tenzen asked as she opened the door to her room, which was next to Jola's.

  Jola yawned and smiled. "I look forward to sleeping in a real bed. I don't think sleep will be any problem." She closed her door behind her, washed her face, donned her nightgown, and crawled into the soft bed.

  That was the last she remembered before her viper's agitated movement awoke her. She lay there trying to understand what was causing its strange behavior. Although it was still dark, she decided it must be close to dawn, as a gray light filtered through the thick drapes. She had her hand on her covers and was preparing to get out of bed when the door to the hallway burst open and several figures charged into the room.

  "That old bitch and her viper took three men down," a man said.

  "We need to kill the young one fast and get out of here," another responded, as a dark shape moved toward Jola. "Close that door so that cursed viper can't follow us in here."

  Jola only dimly registered what the men's words meant for Tenzen, as she prepared herself. She could only make out shadows, and the shape of a sword in one of the men's hands. He lunged. When he did, she flung the coverlet at him and rolled in the opposite direction, where her weapons hung on a rack. She heard him curse as he thrashed to untangle himself.

  Jola grabbed her sword out of its scabbard, and with the other hand, she grabbed the neck of her long nightgown and ripped it completely open. She hissed under her breath. No time to get rid of the ripped cloth. As cold air washed over her nude body, she hoped the fabric wouldn't trip her.

  One man ran at her around the bed to her left. He hesitated for a second, and as Jola's eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw that he was grinning lewdly. Jola flipped her viper at him. She turned toward the man bounding across the bed toward her. He had a sneer on his face, which would have been funny in other circumstances. He landed on the floor, slightly off balance. She sidestepped his sloppy thrust and slashed across his neck. Blood sprayed everywhere. She backpedaled, which put the dead men and her viper between her and the three assassins who remained.

  She noticed that the man on the right had his sword raised, watching her viper's movement on the ground. She reached back and grabbed her dagger from the rack, and threw it at him. The dagger hit him on the chest and bounced off. Although it didn't do any damage, it distracted him for a moment and ruined his aim. He missed her viper, which slithered under a table. It also distracted Jola for a few seconds. Too late, she tried to parry a stroke from the man who came from her left. She twisted so that she took the cut on her arm instead of on her chest. It burned like a hot iron, but she spun behind him and managed to slash his neck before he could turn. She let the force carry her another step, as the man in the middle jumped over the dead man's body and slashed at her. His sword sliced through the air where she had been, and cut into the other assassin's body.

  Both turned toward her. Hate and anger radiated from them, pounding at her. Her vision blurred and spun. Her whole body was racked with searing pain, her face splattered with blood and her sword handle slick from blood and sweat. When they lunged, she would only be able to kill one. She couldn't dodge them both.

  She waited, determined to kill at least one more in revenge for her sister. It seemed to take an eternity. A nod from one signaled the start of their rush. Jola stepped back and slightly to the right, which put a little distance between her and the man on the left. The one on the right thrust at her stomach. She turned, using her arm instead of her sword to guide the sword past her. It tore a gash in her arm as it slid along. Her sword, free, went through his neck. A second later, she felt a sword stab deep into her left side, and knew that death was a finger's length away. Then it stopped and her attacker collapsed-a golden viper was wrapped around his leg, with its fangs buried deep. The room swam in a black fog and she sank to the floor.

  * * *

  Jola forced her eyes open, confused, with her body on fire. Someone shouted at her. The room seemed crowded with shadowy figures. Strange, I thought we had killed them all. I guess they must have had more friends. The voices in the room were loud, but she couldn't make sense of what they were saying. As she strained to see past the wisps of fog in her vision, the two vipers on her seemed to change shape. They twisted together and grew, as they changed into a man-one with a golden, male body and the head of a viper.

  "You seem to have gotten yourself all cut up, my little Jola," the figure said, although only his tongue flickered.

  "Are you the God Naga?" Jola felt muddled.

  "God? No, thank you," the figure said, with a laughter that seemed to fill the room.

  "Why do you not show yourself to the sisters?" Jola ignored the figure's refusal to admit he was a god.

  "What would happen if I did?"

  "The sisters would honor you," Jola said.

  "Oh, yes. They would begin by honoring me. Then some would decide that I should direct their lives. When I wouldn't, they would decide everything they did was because I directed it. They would no longer have to consider the right or wrong." The figure paused, as his tongue flickered in and out.

  "Others would think that I should help them when they were in need, which would be every time they wanted something. They would pray to me and expect me to fix something, or get something, or make something happen. They would do nothing while they waited for me to deliver for them."

  The figure laughed. "How very boring. I'd much rather watch as each of you encounters obstacles and uses your intuition, imagination, and skill to overcome them."

  "Like watching a story unfold?" She understood stories.

  "Yes, like an interesting, never-ending story. After all, I have already given those I favor an advantage, a precious gift."

  "Are you part of your gifts... your vipers?"

  "That's a question that will be debated for the next hundred years, little one," the figure said, and laughed.

  "But you've given us our gifts?"

  "My friends were bored with nothing to do all day. By giving them the ability to sense the truth
and emotions, I gave the sisters a reason to willingly carry them everywhere, so they could see and experience new and exciting places."

  "Do they worship you?"

  "Vipers are simple creatures. They don't want or need gods. They are content to be what they are."

  "Am I dead, Naga?"

  "Do you want to be?"

  "If I am, I'd like to see Sister Tenzen."

  "Is it not enough to know she is at peace, little one?" the figure said. "I think you should live. You've things you need to do, and my friends would be disappointed if you died. In fact, Tenzen's friend has asked to stay with you."

  "I'd love for it to stay." The haze seemed to clear, and pain flooded in. "I feel pain, Naga. Am I hurt badly?"

  "Yes, little one. But you should heal if you get some help. I want you to reach your right arm out as far as you can. Good." The figure began to fade back into the two vipers, who wound their way up her arm.

  Then Jola dreamt she was back on the streets, being hunted because she killed a member of a street gang. Every time she went out to steal food, they found her and chased her. They always came within a few hands of catching her. She had to eat the garbage she found in the alleys. Even there, they managed to find her.

  She dreamt she was in bondage. Every night men came in to paw and beat her. She couldn't sleep for fear of them. Each day she got hurt because she was too tired to pay attention to her work.

  She dreamt that the Sisters of Astraea claimed she was a thief, and a judgment found her guilty. The sisters threw her out of the monastery in the middle of winter, with nothing to wear but rags. She cried because she was innocent, but no one would listen. The snow soaked through her rags as she crawled toward a cave.