Kharl reined up outside the doors and dismounted. From the gelding’s saddlebags, he took out a small leather case, which contained only blank paper and a markstick.
“I’ll be back at noon, ser.”
“Thank you.” Kharl smiled at the young lancer, then turned and headed for the doors, conscious of Dorfal’s eyes on his back.
Inside the doors, a series of polished brass lamps set in wall sconces illuminated the hall-like foyer, and the white plaster walls had been recently painted. There were no decorations.
Kharl glanced around. The foyer was empty.
A thin white-haired man in a green jacket appeared from a narrow archway to the left. “Ser? Might I help you?”
“I’m looking for Jusof, the clerk for-“
“You must be Lord Kharl, I’d imagine.” The man bowed. “Most pleased to meet you, ser. Jusof is expecting you, ser. If you would take the narrow stairs to the left over there, the library and his study are just at the top.”
“Thank you.” Kharl bowed his head.
“Oh, no, ser. Thank you.”
Kharl followed the directions and took the stairs, so narrow that his shoulders almost brushed both walls at once. At the top was another foyer, with three archways set in an arc. The archway in the center had a single door, open into a small chamber. Kharl could see someone seated at a table desk on which were stacked piles of books and papers and that half filled the chamber. The ancient oak door set in the archway to the right was closed. The leftmost archway had no door and opened into a long chamber that seemed to run the rest of the distance to the back of the structure. It was filled with shelves, and on those shelves were rows and rows of leather-bound volumes, and all the volumes seemed to be the same size- at least from what Kharl could see.
Kharl strode forward toward the occupied chamber. By the time he stood at the doorway, the occupant was standing. “Lord Kharl, I presume?”
“Yes. You’re Jusof.”
“None other.” Jusof was even thinner, if but slightly younger, than the man who had offered directions. His eyes were gray, large, and luminous, and his hands were enormous, with such long fingers that each hand resembled a spider.
“I had no doubt you were Lord Kharl, the mage.” The warmth of the clerk’s smile erased immediately the severity of his appearance.
Kharl laughed slightly. “Everyone seems to know who I am, and yet I’ve not met any of you. It’s very strange.”
“That will pass, I am most certain, but you not only are attired as befits a mage, but you carry yourself as such. There is a power there .. . one who looks cannot mistake it.” The elderly clerk smiled at Kharl. “You look like a mage, not like a cooper, or a carpenter, but I’ve been assured that you’ve been successful at all three occupations. I’ve also been assured that you can read and write with proficiency. Is that accurate?”
“Yes.” Kharl wasn’t so sure about his proficiency in writing, at least compared to the justicers and advocates who frequented the Hall of Justice.
“The lord-chancellor has stated that he wishes me to guide you in learning as much about justice and its procedures as possible in the season ahead. Lord Justicer Priost has no objections, so long as you do not disrupt the proceedings of any case, and I am willing to do that, if you are willing to apply yourself. It will mean working as hard as at anything you have done, for wrestling with the many-headed beast that is law is more tiring than most would imagine.”
A faint smile crossed Kharl’s lips as he listened.
“First, I will offer a precept, and an observation. The precept is: Never mistake law for justice. Justice is an ideal, and law is a tool. Absolute justice would be as unjust as applied injustice. Now . .. the observation is that justice is the wellspring of chaos. That is because those who are guilty will do anything to avoid justice, as will most of those who are innocent.” The clerk’s tone turned even more dry. “The innocent fear justice because of what they might do, or because of what might be done to those they love. The only ones who pursue justice with great vigor are those who would use the law as a weapon, and they are to be more feared than either the innocent or the guilty.”
Kharl only had to think about the clerk’s words for a moment. Jusof cleared his throat and asked, “Does that surprise you?”
“No. I can’t say that it does,” Kharl replied reflectively. “I could not have said it as clearly as you did, but I have wondered about the very ideas you expressed.” “You speak well for a former craftsman. Have you read widely?”
“I have read. Not so widely as I should, I fear.”
“That is true of all of us.” The clerk coughed. “I will summarize in practical terms what I just told you. Law is a necessary evil. With it, matters are never what they should be. Without it, they are inevitably worse.”
Kharl had to wonder, if the clerk of the head justicer in Austra happened to be so cynical, how fairly the judgments of his justicer were arrived at.
“The law is something that is always changing, but its roots date to antiquity. Hamor has an actual code of laws, set forth in great detail by the third emperor. These are periodically updated and recodified. We do not do this in Nordla. The laws of both Austra and Nordla derive originally from the Code of Cyad, such of it as remained, and largely from the ensuing case histories, by precedent, and as amended by any proclamations of the lord, provided that the lord justicer does not issue an opinion suggesting the legal invalidity of such a proclamation ...”
What was a case history? What did Jusof mean by precedent? And how could a lord justicer invalidate a lord’s decree? Kharl feared that what was in The Basis of Order was simple in comparison to the arcaneness of law.
“We will need to get you settled. The lord justicer suggested that you spend some time studying the simplified procedures first, then the most important precedents. After that, as there is time, you can look into other cases and observe some of the cases that come before the lord justicer.” Jusof smiled. “There is a large table in the northwest corner of the library, right under one of the clerestories, so that on most days you won’t need a lamp...”
The chief clerk slipped around the table desk, the sleeve of his short jacket brushing a pile of books, which teetered but did not fall.
Kharl took his case in hand and followed the justicer’s clerk.
XLVII
Jusof stood beside his table desk, overflowing with the piles of papers and volumes that seemed to have grown even in the two days since Kharl had first seen them. “Now that you have read through the basic clerks’ guide, and the summary of important laws, I thought you should learn to use the library while you are studying some of the cases.”
Kharl nodded. His head was already spinning after two long days of reading through documents that made The Basis of Order seem simple indeed.
“I have listed here some representative cases of each of the major classifications of law.” Jusof extended three sheets of paper filled with his precise and small script. “The criminal sections are simple enough. There are crimes against persons, either common or noble; crimes affecting property; and crimes against the Lord-those are effectively crimes against Austra itself, since its lord represents the land. Crimes against the Lord fall into three categories. The first category comprises minorities, such as public drunkenness, vagrancy, disturbing the peace. The second comprises majorities. These are greater offenses, such as destroying public property, begging or soliciting on the streets without a permit from the Lord-“
“I did not know that one could get a permit for begging,” Kharl said, recalling the time when he had seen one of the Watch patrollers take away a child for begging.
“There is a precedent for the Lord to grant such, but no lord has granted any since before the time of Lord Esthaven. Generally, they are not given. Begging and street soliciting, if not forbidden, lead to greater offenses.”
“What kinds of soliciting are allowed under the law?”
“There is little res
triction on soliciting from one’s own property or property rented when the owner has consented in writing to the purposes to which the property is put.”
“Hmmmm ...” Kharl could see a few problems there.
Jusof laughed. “Most young advocate scholars don’t see that. There is a recommended consent form laid out in the Salaharat case. That is a very famous decision by the lord justicer under Lord Isthel.”
“I’m supposed to find these cases ... and read through them?”
“Exactly.”
“Ah . .. the library is large.”
“Oh ... I must not have explained. One takes so much for granted. The cases are laid out by section here in the library. Each set of shelves is labeled on the east end. The cases in each set of shelves are arranged alphabetically by the name of the defendant, and the sections correspond generally to the classifications.” “What if a case has more than one classification?”
“Good question. The case will be filed under what we thought was the major issue at law, but a sheet will be filed in the other sections telling where the actual decision and abbreviated proceedings are filed.” The clerk pointed to the sheet. “If you search out each of these cases, then read through them, you should gain a very basic understanding of how the law is applied and decided. Please remember that in many instances the situation does not fit the law as it stands, and the lord justicer must decide what aspects of the law and various precedents apply. If you have questions, write them down, in reference to the case, and we will discuss them each afternoon before you leave. I would judge that it will take you close to an eightday to study all those on the list, even if you read quickly.”
An eightday more of reading? Most of the daylight hours? “I see that I will be very busy.”
“You will, indeed. I only wish that more lords would spend some time trying to understand the law. If they did, there would be fewer cases before the lord justicer.”
“People are people,” Kharl replied. “They only accept the knowledge that suits them.” He’d seen that often enough as a cooper. No one wanted to understand the advantage of a tight red or white oak barrel when they were after cheap cooperage, even when the slightly more costly oak barrel would save them twice the difference over in a few years.
“You are most probably right,” Jusof said with a sigh, “but one hopes.”
“I had best begin,” Kharl said.
Jusof stood watching, a faint and sad smile on his thin face, as Kharl turned away.
Jusof and the clerks were well organized, Kharl thought as he headed for the corner table in the library that had become his immediately two days earlier. Several of the advocate students still looked up from the smaller wall tables when he passed, but fewer did so each day.
Kharl set his case on the table. He wondered if the detail pursued by Jusof and the clerks was that necessary. Then he shook his head. That detail was necessary for a good set of laws, just as the same kind of attention to detail made crafting better barrels possible, and greater magery successful. Did Nordla have a similar system? Jusof had indicated that the legal systems had come from the same general background, but, if they did, how could Lord Justicer Reynol of Brysta have accepted the abuses of Egen and Lord West?
Kharl smiled. Anyone could twist anything. That was something he would have to watch in himself. Perhaps studying the law would help. He just hoped it did not make him too much more cynical about people.
XLVIII
/liter the first eightday in the Hall of Justice, spent entirely in the library reading, Kharl wasn’t sure that he understood any more than when he had first walked inside. He knew more, but the knowledge had not yet deepened his understanding. At least, he didn’t think so. His routine was simple. He spent the morning there, rode back to the Great House for a midday meal, then returned and studied some more until close to sunset. The last half glass or so was spent with Jusof. On fiveday evening he walked slowly into the dining chamber in the Great House. For a moment, he did not recognize anyone. Then he saw Norgen and Casolan seated at the larger table. They had ales before them, but no platters.
Casolan gestured. “If you would join us, Lord Kharl. ..”
“I would not intrude.”
“You’d not be intruding,’ said the square-faced Casolan. “In fact, we insist.”
Norgen nodded agreement.
Kharl sat down, gratefully. He hadn’t been looking forward to eating alone. He’d been doing that too often, of late.
“An ale”-Norgen glanced from the serving girl to Kharl-“it is an ale, isn’t it?”
“Pale ale, please.”
“A pale ale for Lord Kharl.”
“Yes, sers.”
“You don’t get to choose tonight,” Casolan said. “It’s stew. Only stew. They had problems in the kitchen.”
“That’s fine.” Kharl looked at the two commanders. Both had circles under their eyes and appeared thinner than when he had left Valmurl. “How are matters with you both?”
The two officers exchanged glances. Then Casolan burst into a laugh, and Norgen shook his head, his lips twisted into a wry expression.
“We’ve had to recruit more armsmen and lancers, and retrain most of those who remained,” Casolan finally said.
“Half the new lancers think horses are wasted on anything but plowing. Half the junior officers have had full stables and have no idea about the need to pace a mount.”
“Not half,” suggested Norgen. “Just too many.”
“The ones who know blades fancy themselves duelists, and those who don’t treat a sabre like an ax.” Casolan took a swallow of his ale, almost finishing the beaker.
“None of them think that they really need training, because wars don’t happen often, and we’ve just finished one,” Norgen added. “They don’t see that training and discipline are necessary for more than just fighting. Some of them don’t even see the need for training to fight. They just think that you charge with your mount and swing wildly at anything in sight.”
The three paused as the server returned with another round of ales, and with three bowls of the stew-and two baskets of bread, only rye.
“No dark bread,” observed Casolan. “What’s stew without it?”
“I’m so sorry, ser,” offered the serving girl, “but the molasses ran out...”
“It’s not your fault,” Casolan said politely. “It’s probably not even the cook’s fault.”
“No, ser. It’s not. Thank you.” Before anyone could say anything else, she bowed and hurried off.
“What’s the problem?” asked Kharl.
“The lord-chancellor discovered that the provisions steward for the Great House was, shall we say, taking a small portion of the accounts for his own uses. Some of the holders had not been paid in eightdays for supplies delivered here. Everything below the stairs is being looked at, and not everything has been ordered as it should have been because the steward kept it all to himself.”
“So that no one would know what he was doing?” suggested Kharl.
Norgen nodded. “When someone wants to do everything by himself, it’s a good wager that he either doesn’t trust those working for him or that he’s up to no good. Neither is a good sign.”
Kharl understood that. Even as a cooper, if he couldn’t train his sons or apprentices to be trusted, he wouldn’t have been much of a crafter. “So the Great House has a new provisions steward, and he’s having trouble finding everything?”
“So I hear. It doesn’t help that some of the holders were favored with a few extra coins, and not because their provender was of better quality.”
“It’s going to take a while before the lord-chancellor can work things out,” interjected Casolan.
Kharl did not envy Hagen.
“Where have you been?” asked Norgen.
Kharl debated momentarily about what he should say, then replied. “I’ve been studying law at the Hall of Justice.”
“Law?” Casolan frowned.
&nbs
p; “The lord-chancellor thought it might be helpful. I’m not sure yet, but I think I’ve learned a bit more about how Austra really works.”
“I can see how that might be helpful for a mage,” observed Norgen. “Whatever you do may affect someone.”
“Glad it’s not me,” said Casolan, after a mouthful of stew. “Just as soon stay away from the Hall of Justice. You have to settle things there, and it’s already more trouble than anyone should want.”
“What have you learned?” asked Norgen.
“Mostly, that clerks and advocates and justicers write down everything, and that their writing is very small.”
Both commanders laughed.
XLIX
Late on fourday afternoon, Kharl stepped out of the Hall of Justice and looked across the square toward the tavern. After almost another eightday in the library, Kharl’s eyes and brain were weary. His initial impression had not changed that much. The law was a tool, as Jusof had stated; but it was a tool that, while varying between the bluntness of a cudgel and the focused deadliness of a stiletto, generally served the interests of those with property and wealth, especially the Lord of Austra. Still, like all tools, it depended on who was using it for what. That had also become clear from his readings.
He had decided that he needed a break from the fare at the Great House and arranged for Dorfal to meet him much later than usual in the square, after having asked Jusof about places to eat nearby.
“A tavern that would be appropriate for a lord? There are few of those.” Jusof had paused, mulling over the thought. “The Silver Horse is said to be the best. It is just across the square. I suppose one would not find much trouble with an establishment but a few doors from the Watch Patrollers’ headquarters.”
Kharl had repressed a laugh at that. His experiences with the Watch in Brysta had left something to be desired.
Dorfal had not been exactly pleased when Kharl had told the young armsman that he would be eating at the tavern and to meet him later, but Kharl had insisted quietly. “I don’t know enough about Valmurl, and where people eat tells something. Besides, I need to get out of the Great House more, and not only to the Hall of Justice.”
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