by C. R. Daems
"Sister Tenzen, you're far more capable of finding your way to Kasava and back to Tyrol. Besides, you'll know how to get the support of the Kasavans and the king. I'll take care of our Tasman judicator." Jola desperately wanted to make sure her sister stayed out of harm's way. She knew how to survive on the streets; Tenzen didn't.
They stayed and argued for thirty minutes. Tenzen relented when they began drawing unwanted attention from travelers going into the city. "I hate to admit it, Sister Jola, but you'll know how to work the crowds better than I would, whereas I'll know how to influence the Kasavans. When I reach Kasava, I'll authorize soldiers to enter Essam to search for you. If it becomes necessary, Jola, abandon all your judicator trappings and revert to the old, street-wise Jola. We should both leave Gotter. I'd insist, except for the inevitable riots that will result from a bad judgment. May the God Naga protect you, Sister." Tears glistened in her eyes. She hugged Jola long and hard before she mounted her horse and kicked it into a canter, heading east towards Kasava. Marek moved closer to Jola as Tenzen rode away.
"What do you want me to do, Mistress?" Marek nodded toward the horses and his guards.
"Start by calling me 'Jola,'" she said with a smile. "Do you've any idea how we can delay identification of the dead nobles and soldiers?"
"I may... Jola." Marek rode back to his men, dismounted and carefully examined each body. "Sergeant, take these bodies to our practice area in the foothills. I want a healer to inspect them before I permit them into the city. The soldiers look to have been killed in a fight, but this noble has a strange skin tone and no wounds. It could be some sort of plague. I won't take the chance. I'll have someone out there as soon as I can."
"Yes, sir," the sergeant said, turning to collect the horses and soldiers.
"Corporal Ilario, I'll see that you're rewarded for your silence. No one has to know you said anything. After all, you were wounded doing your duty," Jola said quietly, as her viper poked its head from her sleeve.
"Yes, Mistress," Ilario said with a weak smile.
With that, the sergeant and his detail rode off toward the foothills. Jola waited until Captain Marek returned with his horse. They mounted and rode toward the Gotter city gates.
* * *
Jola found a room at the Hillside Inn, but chose not to eat there. Instead, she ventured down to the markets to hear the local gossip. She found plenty. The markets buzzed with talk about the upcoming trial. She noticed only one woman on the streets. She was on the arm of an older man, and an armed man followed them.
At a stand, Jola purchased a meat pie and listened to two men nearby saying it was time that the nobles were taught a lesson. Another man joined them, and raved that no one was safe. The market steamed with a festering anger. It seemed that the nobles had gotten more aggressive over the previous few seasons, and the rapes were galvanizing the masses to retaliate. They planned to get justice one way or the other.
As she continued to wander through the market, she heard several comments about Judicator Shalea being escorted by Tasman soldiers. They sounded suspicious and angry. Few nobles were in the market, and those few Jola saw were nervous, and soon departed.
Knowing how the streets worked, Jola circulated, adding a comment here and a remark there.
"New judicators usually have senior judicators with them, not guards," she said to several merchants while eating next to a small stall bearing a variety of fruits.
"She must work for Tasman nobles, since they sent guards with her," she said to a bunch of commoners in a tavern.
"Duke Chaney must really like something Shalea did for him," she commented to a man with a vegetable cart.
"If this isn't settled soon, I'll go broke," the man complained.
"Since when do nobles like real judicators?" she said whenever she had several people within hearing range.
That should put the crowd in the right mood, Jola mused. She knew those comments would resonate with the angry merchants, and spread like an out-of-control fire. She smiled. Just like old times. Tenzen had made the right decision; Jola knew the streets.
* * *
The next morning, Jola made her way toward the town square where the judgment would be conducted. She had purchased an old cape to cover her clothes and sword, and had bought an old travel bag in which to hide her mask, red cape, and dagger. When she arrived, the crowd swarmed with both nobles and commoners, jostling each other. The commoners outnumbered the nobles by twenty to one. As the crowd jostled her toward the front, she saw the animosity grow. A workman in rough cotton breeches and tunic bumped a nobleman so hard he almost fell. The nobleman barely caught himself, and shouted an oath at the man who had knocked into him.
Before matters deteriorated further, Judicator Shalea arrived with her Tasman guard, and mounted the stairs with a Tasman captain. She certainly looked the part, with a judicator's red cape, mask, and dagger, and a snake around her neck. Jola was too far back to get a good look at the snake. It looked the right color, but it wasn't moving. It's now or never, Jola decided, as Shalea settled herself into the judicator's chair.
"You have Tasman guards. How do we know you don't represent Tasman's nobles and not the Essam people?" Jola yelled, and was greeted with a small rumble of agreement.
"I was appointed by the king himself to represent Tasman, Essam, and Sattah!" Shalea shouted back. Jola had to concede that the woman had imagination, even if she wasn't well informed.
"The king doesn't appoint judicators!" Jola shouted back. "Only the Sisters of Astraea can, according to the Seven Provinces' Treaty. You're obviously a fake."
"Silence that woman; she doesn't know what she's talking about," the Tasman captain said. Two guards pushed their way through the crowd toward her. Shouts came from the crowd. "Let her talk." "She's a right to ask questions." "I think she's right."
Jola saw Captain Marek wave his troops into action to restrain the Tasman soldiers.
"I was a special case, because some judicators weren't doing a good job!" Shalea shouted back, although it wasn't necessary, as the crowd had become quiet. Everyone was interested in hearing the exchange. Jola considered Shalea for a moment. She was confident, and she looked the part. But...
"Easy to prove, Shalea. Show us your dagger. Every judicator has her name engraved on her dagger." Jola pointed toward Shalea. This was risky, but she had a feeling that Shalea had stolen the dagger, hat, and cape from a real judicator.
"Show us, Shalea," a man shouted.
"Show us... show us," the crowd chanted with real glee. They had come ready for a fight. All they needed was a little encouragement, which Jola was doing her best to provide. She hoped she had guessed right and found a tangible point of vulnerability. The snake would be another, if she could get to the platform.
"Arrest her!" one of the older nobles shouted from his horse. When none of the guards responded, he tried to use his horse to approach Jola, but the crowd would have no part of it. They had found a rallying banner for their hostility. He quickly retreated when several men drew knives and swords.
Shalea stood there in shock, not drawing her dagger or answering. Jola saw her opportunity and began weaving her way through the crowd toward the platform. The crowd parted to let their gladiator approach the arena.
"That thing around your neck looks pitiful. In what alley did you find it?" Jola approached the platform. The crowd roared with laughter and started chanting, "Pitiful. Pitiful."
"Come up here, girl, and my golden viper will teach you manners." Shalea sneered and gave a weak laugh.
"Thank you, I will. The people of Essam deserve real justice, not a phony like you." After a moment of shock, the crowd went wild with cheering.
As Jola started up the platform's steps, the Tasman captain drew his sword. Jola responded by throwing off her newly purchased cape and drawing her own. With that, the crowd became deathly silent. It seemed like the entire city of Gotter stopped breathing. Jola stood on the steps, one step below the platform, as the cap
tain began his attack. From the step above, he made a downward slash. She countered, but couldn't find an opening. Steel rang in the silence. Then she remembered the advice the God Naga had given her: "There is no need to move until action is required." She waited for the captain's next move. A subtle shift in weight and a reverse turn of the hand showed his next swing. She barely dodged it and received a long cut to her arm. When she saw his next move coming, she waited until he was committed. She parried the blow and riposted with a slash to his lower legs. He collapsed. She followed with a sideward slice across his sword arm.
The captain lay in a spreading puddle of blood from both cuts as Jola stepped onto the platform. She turned to Shalea as her viper made its unexpected appearance and wrapped itself around her wrist.
"This, Shalea the Fake, is a real viper." She raised her hand for the crowd to see. "You claim to be a judicator. Any judicator is immune to a viper's bite. Let's see if you pass the test." The crowd collectively gasped as the viper raised itself up another six finger lengths for all to see.
"No, please, I'm a fake like you said." Shalea sobbed as she stepped back, away from Jola.
"Who paid you to impersonate a judicator?" Jola took a single step toward Shalea.
"Duke Chaney." Shalea screamed as the viper opened its jaw to expose its bone-white fangs.
"Captain Marek, you'll hold Shalea and the Tasman guards in custody for judgment." Jola reached out, removed Shalea's dagger, and raised it over her head. "It's inscribed 'Narette,' not 'Shalea.'"
Jola retrieved her bag and removed her red cape and judicator's mask. She quickly tied a scarf around the dripping gash on her arm before donning the marks of her office.
"Captain Marek, I believe the people of Gotter have assembled here to hear a judgment and find justice."
The crowd roared and began to chant, "Justice!"
"In the name of King Nicolas, I, Judicator Jola, do hereby call this judgment in session." Jola gazed down at the three nobles who were accused, and at the two woman accusers. The women had their heads covered with shawls, and stared at the ground. Their faces-what Jola could see of them-were swollen and bruised. "Captain Marek, would you read the charges, please?"
"Yes, Mistress. Lord Damek, Lord Karel, and Lord Rurik are accused of having held captive, raped, and beaten the Freewomen Linah and Marta," Marek read from the parchment document. As he read, a low rumble of anger erupted from the crowd.
"Freewoman Linah, would you please tell me what happened for you to charge these three nobles with raping you and Marta?"
"Yes, Mistress. Marta and I were at a wedding celebration for my cousin. There were drinks, food, and dancing. Sometime after the wedding ceremony, three nobles joined the party uninvited. My uncle asked them to leave, but they ignored him. They began to select and accost ladies-forcing them to dance. My uncle didn't want to start a fight, as Marquess Stassio hasn't enforced the merchants' rights against nobles... "
"That's a damn lie, you whore."
Jola rose, dagger pointed at the nobleman who had spoken.
"Who is that man, Captain Marek?"
"Count Standa, Mistress."
"Lord Standa, I fine you fifty silvers for disrupting this proceeding and for subjecting these gentle folk to your foul language," Jola said, and the crowd erupted into laughter.
Standa stood, fists clenched and face purple with rage. "You're sympathizing with those whores. You're the fake."
"An additional fifty silvers for continuing to disrupt the proceeding and for the use of foul language. You're attacking the integrity of the king, through his personal representative. You're one outburst away from losing your title and lands. And no, Lord Standa, I won't enforce my judgment." Jola waited for the stunned silence. "The king will."
She stared into Standa's face, and then looked around the crowd to meet as many eyes as she could. "These are serious charges, and the people of Gotter have a right to have them resolved with dignity." Jola sat back down as her viper wove itself through her hair.
"Freewoman Linah, please continue."
In a low but steady voice, Linah told how they had been held in the nobleman's house while they were repeatedly beaten and raped.
"Freewoman Marta, do you swear to the truth of Freewoman Linah's description of your abduction, rapes, and beatings?"
"Yes, Mistress," Marta said as she looked up at her. Jola detected truth from both women. As she listened to them, she could imagine what life would have been like before the Seven Provinces' Treaty, when nobles had absolute power and could do whatever they chose. The Gotter nobility planned to go back to those times.
"Do you wish to add anything?" Jola asked. She wanted to ensure she had the complete story.
"Yes, Mistress; they were very cruel, hitting us and laughing," Marta said with a sob.
"Freewomen Marta and Linah, please come up on the platform so that I can have a better look at you." Jola waved for the women to join her. They cautiously mounted the stairs, with their eyes on her viper. When they arrived, Jola carefully inspected each woman's arms, neck, and face. She then asked several women in the crowd to join her, and used them to shield Marta and Linah as she inspected their bodies.
"This happened one eightday ago?" Jola asked in disbelief, as the bruises and cuts still looked ugly. It wouldn't surprise her if under the purple and red bruises there was a cracked bone or two.
"Yes, Mistress," Marta and Linah said in unison. The truth of their response was clear. Jola waited for the women to descend from the platform, after which each was surrounded by family and friends.
"Lord Rurik, would you like to tell me your side of the story?" Jola asked the youngest member of the trio. Jola the street rat wanted to stop the judgment and sentence the three youths. Judicator Jola won out-at the last second. She would hear both sides before she reached a decision.
"Yes, Mistress. We did go to the party and were asked to leave, but Lord Damek said that what they said didn't matter. He told us they couldn't force us to leave. He said if we persisted, we would find willing women. So we stayed and danced with most of the young women. Later, we went outside, and Lord Damek told us that women had agreed to come with us for money. We waited until Marta and Linah came out, and stopped them. We offered them silvers. They refused. Lord Damek told them they couldn't renege on their agreement. He told us to tie them up. He said that they were just pretending, to make it more fun." Rurik paused to consider his next remarks. Jola detected that Rurik told the truth.
"We took them to Lord Damek's home-his father's, that is. We had sex with each of them." Rurik again radiated truth.
"You claim you thought they were pretending and wanted to have sex with you?" Jola asked.
"Yes-" Jola's hand, with a viper attached, shot up to stop him from saying any more.
"You're lying to a judicator, Lord Rurik. That isn't only stupid, but it erodes your credibility. Choose your words carefully before you speak again."
"No, Mistress, I knew they didn't, but Lord Damek is my friend. They were just commoners," Rurik said with a wave of his hand, bringing a rumble of anger from the crowd.
"Lord Karel, it's your turn. Do you agree with Lord Rurik's account of what happened up to the time you arrived at Lord Damek's residence?"
"Yes, Mistress. I thought they were putting on an act. Lord Damek told me he'd agreed to pay them more if they put on a convincing act of being raped," Karel said, pleased with himself. Jola detected truthfulness mixed with falseness in his statement.
"Lord Damek, it's now your turn." Jola leaned forward. The crowd was silent.
"That's the truth. They agreed to come for money, and I agreed to pay more if they put on a good act of being raped," Damek said, smirking with satisfaction. The falseness was overpowering.
"I've reached a decision." Jola stood. "These men who stand charged with rape clearly believe that they're better than you are, and that you aren't entitled to any rights," Jola said, to an angry rumble of mumbled words. "I'm sure ther
e are others all over Pyxus who agree with them. Tasman wants its own puppet judicators so that nobles will be above the common man's law. My tendency is to try to reason with them, to explain that every man is equal to every other man, to explain that those with privilege have a special obligation to be fair-and have the most to lose. Unfortunately, I can see that to reason with these men would be useless. I can only hope that my actions here today speak more loudly than my words."
As Jola surveyed the crowd, she sensed the division between nobles and commoners. The nobles looked defensive, angry, and defiant. The commoners looked anxious, hopeful, and nervous.
"Let it be known to all citizens of Pyxus that Judicator Jola has resolved beyond any man's right to question the issue before her involving the rapes of freewomen Marta and Linah by the Lords Damek, Rurik, and Karel." Jola recited the ritual words. "I decree the following:
"First, Lord Damek, Lord Rurik, and Lord Karel are guilty of rape, kidnapping, and violence." Jola paused for the cheering to stop, and noted the angry looks from many of the nobles.
"Second, Lord Standa will pay to the king the one hundred silvers fine imposed by me.
"Third, Lord Damek will pay to the king the one hundred silvers fine imposed by me.
"Fourth, Lord Damek, Lord Karel, and Lord Rurik are each to pay freewomen Marta and Linah one thousand silvers each." Jola paused as the crowd muttered loudly over them being just fined for their crimes.
"Fifth, Lord Damek, Lord Karel, and Lord Rurik are stripped of their titles and are each to receive twenty-five strokes of the cane, to be administered by the city guard. Karel and Rurik are sentenced to five years in the iron mines at Iron Hills.
"Fifth, Damek is sentenced to ten years in the iron mines at Iron Hills."
With that, the crowd went wild. Screams and shouts deafened her, until she raised her hands.
"So say the Judicators of Pyxus."
Again, the crowd went wild. Jola saw three of the nobles huddle together, talking. Again, Jola held up her hands for silence.
