Toby Fisher and the Arc Light

by Ian McFarlane

  ‘Not human?’ questioned the king, sounding surprised. ‘Prince Frax, what is the meaning of this?’ The courtroom came alive with mutterings as mer-people whispered and nudged each other like a newly disturbed bee hive. It looked as though the king was smiling but there was no humour in his voice. ‘I’m sure I do not need to remind you of the purpose of this court.’

  ‘No, sire. You do not, any more than I need to remind you of its history, its objectives, and its lack of activity over the last century. Humans continue to kill our people yet fewer and fewer humans are brought to justice,’ spat the prince defensively.

  ‘It is your guards that are tasked with the role of apprehending human law breakers,’ growled the king.

  ‘A task my guards did very well until you forced us to change our methods,’ complained the prince. He had stepped forward to the very edge of the plinth.

  ‘For good reasons, Prince Frax,’ spat the king. He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes as he watched the prince smile at his outrage. The king could not hide his anger. All he managed was forced words through gritted teeth. ‘You are right, of course. Since I re-arranged your tactics for apprehending humans we have seen very little need to hold this court. It is also no coincidence that we have lost no mer-people to human activity in the last one hundred years. But it serves little purpose to go over old ground now. This court has a responsibility to help protect the mer-population. It has served its purpose well without your squad of flycatchers.’ The last of his words spilled out with a bucket load of spittle.

  The prince theatrically wiped his face. ‘And yet I have two humans who we caught red handed attempting to catch a mer-princess – your daughter, my king. And your mer-princess!’ he shouted dramatically, addressing the crowds. He spread his arms out wide. ‘And they did so with a hessian net!’

  ‘No!’ shouted one of the prince’s guards provocatively. The crowd didn’t respond. No boos and no jeering. They remained perfectly silent. The prince stared at the guard briefly and scowled. He turned his attention towards the audience.

  ‘Do I have to remind you it is one of the most poisonous substances known to our people? Invented by draconians and used by their pet humans. Do not forget what the draconians wanted mer-people for – food. And this foul human was going to sell your beloved princess to the draconians so they could feed their vile children.’

  Now the crowd started to find their voice. Jeers and whistles broke out. The prince smiled.

  Thomas stepped forward placing a reassuring hand on Toby’s shoulder. ‘Your highness, may I address the court?’ The king nodded gladly.

  The prince’s face turned to thunder. ‘Sire, this is delaying tactics. All we need to—’

  ‘Enough! Captain Thomas is the defence council and he has a right to speak. This is a civilised court and we will conduct ourselves accordingly. Captain!’ said the king.

  Thomas took a deep breath and turned to face the audience. He coughed to clear his throat.

  ‘You all know how devastating the hessian net can be for the skin of a mer-person. It burns and cuts so deeply it will eventually rob you of your life. It is one of the most barbaric methods ever devised, resulting in a most painful death. I of all humans know that. And the prince is right, it was mostly humans as well as mercenary elves that did the capturing and they, including me, have paid the price for our crimes. I have spent two centuries with you righting what was wrong, finding all the hessian nets and even destroying the means to make any more.’ The crowds sitting in the arena murmured their approval. ‘And yet we are here today discussing—’

  The prince barged in front of Thomas. ‘Then why do we find ourselves in this courtroom listening to your diatribe over the defence of these two humans. Why is it our princess was nearly murdered with a hessian net?’ spat the prince.

  Thomas shouted over the prince. ‘There are only two hessian nets in existence. This has been confirmed by your own experts.’

  The prince suddenly edged a surprised look towards Thomas.

  ‘Only two,’ repeated Thomas. ‘And they exist here within the mer-kingdom in your very own mer-archives.’

  ‘How dare you,’ shouted the prince. ‘First you want the mer-nation to forgive you for your years of hunting and murdering our people, then you try to claim full credit for destroying all the hessian nets. This is incredible. Now you are trying to tell us it was a mer-person that caught the princess? You are desperate. I have five royal mer-guard witnesses who can testify that they saw this human thing try to kill the princess.’ The prince pointed at Toby.

  ‘They were trying to free the princess, not capture her.’

  ‘A likely story and a desperate defence. You are not defending them, you are trying to protect your own worthless reputation. Maybe you should be on trial. They’re nothing more than thieves and murderers. Do you expect these good mer-people to swallow their lies too?’

  ‘Then where did the hessian net come from?’ said Thomas.

  ‘Guards,’ shouted the king. He whispered in his ear. The guard disappeared. The king waved at Thomas to continue.

  ‘We have all seen the terrible burns the hessian nets leave on mer-skin. I can personally testify that it burns human skin too, which is why human sailors wore chainmail gloves for protection.’ Thomas grabbed hold of Toby’s arm and thrust his hand in the air. ‘These boys were not wearing armour or any kind of protection on their hands or arms. If they were human, then their hands would be burnt. See for yourselves, there are no such marks.’

  ‘Let me look,’ demanded the prince. He grabbed hold of Toby’s hand and examined it. The scar from Toby’s gashed hand from the Westminster Gateway was healing nicely but there was still a visible wound.

  ‘Here!’ shouted the prince, thrusting the hand into the air. ‘We all know humans heal quickly, yet not quick enough judging by the scars in your palm. This human boy has handled a hessian net. These marks prove he is human beyond any doubt.’

  ‘I caught it on some wood,’ protested Toby.

  ‘We are wasting time,’ said the prince, casting Toby’s hand aside. He raised his arms theatrically, and shouted, ‘I demand the Right of Fire and Water!’

  ‘That’s not possible,’ cried the king. ‘We have not used that practice for over a century, and for good reason.’

  ‘Then why did you not outlaw it?’ demanded the prince.

  ‘Because there is such a thing as mermanitarianism, Prince Frax . . . benevolence!’ snapped the king.

  Prince Frax laughed.

  ‘You can’t,’ pleaded Thomas.

  ‘Oh, I believe I can,’ said the prince. ‘The king failed to outlaw the practice. It remains a viable means to prove the existence of a human.’

  ‘That’s about as barbaric as a hessian net. You wouldn’t use one on your own, would you?’ demanded Thomas.

  ‘I seemed to recall you introduced the hessian net,’ responded the prince.

  ‘To my everlasting shame. And information which I seemed to recall you extracted from me in your hall of horrors.’

  ‘Semantics.’ The prince laughed. ‘I don’t need to repeat the detail to you. However, our little human is not so familiar. Maybe I should fill you in with the details, no . . .? Maybe you should tell your human about the drowning first, where we tie you to a chair and dunk you in the water. You die and you are declared innocent, you survive and you are declared human. Ah, what am I saying? I’m ruining the surprise. Thomas, go on, he’s your client – you have the pleasure in telling him. After all, we are still obliged to prove they are human before they can stand trial for the murder of the princess. The hessian nets in the mer-archives are irrelevant.’ The prince leant closer and whispered, ‘And what a travesty of justice that would be if someone lost their life and it turned out they should never have been tried for a crime in the first place. What would that mean for the king?’

  Toby felt numb. He watched, barely registering the movement of the high priestess as she got out of her throne an
d walked the short distance around the edge of the chamber. She stepped up onto the plinth and raised her staff.

  32

  The Blood of Truth

  The high priestess raised her staff; its sparkling gem pointed to the overhead lake in the ceiling of the chamber. She slammed the base of the staff down hard onto the stone plinth. A piercing, alien shrill tore through the air until everyone squealed with pain – they thrust their hands over their ears. The noise stopped and, for the first time since the trial had started, silence bathed the chamber. Heads bobbed up and eyes trained on the high priestess.

  ‘Anyone could be forgiven for thinking your ambitions go far beyond the fate of these two little boys,’ blasted the high priestess.

  ‘My interests remain firmly in the protection of my people,’ argued the prince.

  ‘Your people?’ The high priestess looked amused. ‘You are not king.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ he scowled defensively.

  ‘I do know exactly what you mean, but does everyone else?’ She stood a head taller than the prince and cut an intimidating figure with her dark robes, long white hair and spindly, bony fingers that held the tall, heavy-looking staff with an easy relaxed manner.

  The prince stumbled briefly. ‘It is not your place to take part in these proceedings. Be gone.’ He waved a hand at her as if she were a mere peasant. He turned his back.

  ‘My place is an advisor to His Majesty . . . your king. When and where that happens is not for you to decide,’ continued the high priestess, unfazed.

  ‘Here on this platform? You are never here.’

  ‘Until now it has never been necessary. Your theatrics changed that, dear prince.’ The high priestess scowled. Her voice carried around the chamber as if she had a loudspeaker held to her mouth.

  The prince’s hands shook with rage. He flexed them open and then gripped them tight. ‘The king did not request your advice and neither do I. Return to your seat and allow the court to complete its obligations, namely to deal with the fate of these two humans.’

  ‘My feeling is, princeling, that there is more than one question that needs answering today. I agree with you – the question of species is of paramount importance. How can we have an exciting prosecution if these two are not human? I would also like to know who trapped the mer-princess. I see the court has had no notice on who is responsible for her capture, your own cousin, princeling.’

  ‘These two, that is what this is all about,’ said the prince incredulously, ‘and justice is required. But first it is necessary they are proven eligible for trial. The question remains: are they human?’

  ‘Indeed. And if the guard returns to report that there is a hessian net missing from the mer-archives. What do you propose to do with this new, critical piece of evidence?’

  ‘Simple. A full investigation will establish who has collaborated with the humans. I will personally conduct that myself,’ said the prince boldly.

  ‘I’m sure you would love to conduct that investigation. However, if you are implying that the use of the hessian net could not happen without mer-help then I would agree with you. Maybe I would conduct the investigation myself,’ remarked the high priestess calmly.

  ‘That will not be necessary,’ he muttered clumsily.

  The guard had just returned from the archives. The king urgently walked over to the high priestess and whispered in her ear. He failed to hide the triumphant look on his face. They both looked at the prince. The high priestess’s expression remained blank but the king appeared to be relishing the news.

  Toby nudged Thomas looking for an explanation. Non was coming.

  ‘It would appear that an investigation into a missing hessian net is necessary,’ announced the high priestess, raising her voice. ‘So, who are the collaborators, Prince Frax?’

  It was like watching a tennis match with balls of fire. Just as someone was about to get burnt they batted the ball back with a new piece of information.

  ‘An important point, I grant you. A full investigation to find the collaborators will follow this trial. I am as eager as you to find out who are the traitors in our mer-kingdom. But the fact of the matter remains. These two human boys were caught red handed with a hessian net and a close-to-death mer-princess. They are here to stand trial and stand trial they must after their human status has been proven. I still call for the Right of Fire and Water,’ said the prince calmly.

  ‘Effective, if your sole objective is to kill someone, maybe even kill the evidence,’ said the high priestess slowly, mirroring the prince’s calmness, ‘but not so good if you want to know the truth. As always, Prince Frax, your chosen methods are fantastical at best. I have something far simpler than your exhibition of false power and pain. In fact, it is something you should feel at home with – a little blood-letting. Possibly not quite the quantity of blood you would wish for but very effective in deciding the boys’ status,’ hissed the high priestess. She addressed the court once again.

  ‘The prince has had much experience in processing humans. And if you have had the misfortune to bear witness to his methods then you will know that humans have red blood. Each species has a different colour of blood. We druids have blood of a golden hue,’ she said, nicking her skin with a knife. She held her arm up to reveal golden blood. She waited for all in the court chamber to see. There was a rustle as mer-people leant forward, craning their necks to see the high priestess’s blood stained arm. Murmurs whistled around the chamber as mer-people gossiped quietly with their neighbours. She carried on. ‘Trolls have green blood, elves purple. I need not remind you that your own blood is black. You cannot fool a simple blood test and it is considerably more reliable than some centuries-old barbaric test with its origins embedded in the abhorrent slaughter of witches above ground.’ The high priestess seemed to grow angry with the last words. It was common knowledge, even among the mer-nation, that witches were related to the druids. The high priestess’s anger was unmistakable to those standing close by, particularly to the prince.

  The high priestess raised her voice again as her anger came out in full force. ‘Hear me now. If this boy’s blood is red then your prince need not play games with fire and water. The human will stand trial for the attempted abduction and murder of your mer-princess. Let the prince produce the evidence he surely has to prove these boys guilty of their crimes and this court will deal with them harshly, as humans. But, if the boy’s blood is not red then it is my command that both of them are immediately set free and it is the prince who must answer for crimes against the mer-princess and against the mer-nation. And I hope, for your sake, princeling, their blood is not druid.’ The high priestess pointed her long heavy staff directly at the prince’s heart. He shivered.

  ‘Here, boy!’ growled the high priestess. She grabbed hold of Toby’s arm roughly and squeezed tight. ‘Do not wriggle, boy,’ she commanded without feeling. Toby obeyed without question.

  The high priestess held the long silver knife aloft for everyone to see. Its deathly razor-sharp edge glinted. On seeing the knife Toby pulled hard at his arm. The high priestess squeezed her fingers tighter. He winced. Without ceremony she slashed the knife across Toby’s arm. He cried out. The high priestess yanked his arm higher, almost pulling his arm out of its socket.

  The blood from Toby’s arm began to drip a very clear and distinct colour for all in the chamber to see. The high priestess let go of the arm; Toby cradled it immediately and rapidly retreated to Thomas.

  She turned to face the prince, who physically shrank in fear. He had also seen the colour of the blood. Any strength to resist and fight had disappeared in the flash of the knife along with his court case and his liberty. Toby’s blood was not the red colour of human blood but a mustard golden hue. The high priestess appeared to stand taller and wider as her anger grew.

  ‘He – is – a – young – druid!’ She spat out every word with deep, unadulterated fury. ‘He is sacred, princeling, far beyond the corrupt justice of your petty court, o
f your weak and clumsy attempts to take control of his kingdom.’ She glowered at the prince, and pointed at the king. ‘Are your ambitions that great, princeling, that you would risk the stability of this kingdom?’

  But it wasn’t just the prince who had tested the high priestess’s patience. She turned to the king as he sat in his throne. He was clapping his hands together in seemingly childish joy. The high priestess’s face turned to a dark brooding picture of thunder. ‘And you, Your Majesty. I warned you about your brother’s and your nephew’s ambitions. But you have repeatedly refused to act. It has nearly cost you your daughter’s life. And it may yet cost you your kingdom.’ The king cowered under the high priestess’s ferocity. He slid out of the throne and crawled behind it, desperately trying to hide.

  ‘Are you so desperate to sit on that bare and empty throne, princeling? A worthless prince for an empty kingdom!’ The high priestess raised her staff above her head and started to swing it in circles. A golden thread began to spin into a small cloud above her head. With remarkable speed the high priestess brought the staff down hard, aiming the cloud at the prince’s chest. The golden cloud accelerated, hitting him in the middle of the body, hoisting him off the ground and propelling him backwards. He slammed into the king’s empty throne knocking the wind from his lungs. She held him there with a powerful energy surge from her staff. He remained there, pummelled as if a large jet of water pinned him down. The high priestess lifted the staff and the stream of energy disappeared. The prince fell to the floor half-conscious, limply bumping down the steps. He remained unmoving at the feet of the high priestess.

  ‘Maybe that is where your true place should be, princeling. Release the prisoners!’ demanded the high priestess. The king nodded frantically to his guards as he continued to hide behind the throne. The high priestess stormed off, disappearing into the tunnel in a furious flurry of dark robes.