Hollow Road

by Dan Fitzgerald

  Sinnie picked up the bowl and held it under her nose, taking a gentle whiff, which was pleasantly earthy, and fishy, but in a good way, better than the drabbath on the Isle. She slurped in a hot bite, the flavor of real food exploding in her mouth, but just as she was lamenting the lack of salt, Carl held out an open tin of grayish sea salt.

  “You are a god.” She took a healthy pinch and stirring it into the slimy brown stew. She took another taste, and couldn’t control her smile. “And so is the cook. Holy smokes this is great!” It was earthy and savory, with a subtle fish overtone, from dried fish, she thought, and some kind of bitter herb thrown into the mix. The mushrooms were spongy, and they held the broth well.

  Finn took a tentative bite, a bit of mushroom dangling from his lips before being sucked in. “You know,” he said, swallowing and dipping his spoon into the soup again, “these Maer might just be more civilized than we are.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Finn felt his mind clear as he sipped Ujenn’s foul brew. The second half of the Parzek had been delayed for several hours while she prepared a second batch, and her face was drawn, her eyes weary as she stood with the other leaders.

  “We apologize for the delay,” Fabaris said, his smile sweeping over all those present. “We have consulted the relevant documents, and we may now proceed, with some restrictions. Due to...security concerns,” which he said in an odd tone, “this Parzek cannot speak to the events the humans have described as an ambush, nor of the group of Maer alleged to have participated in this event.” Fabaris paused as his words sank in. “Regarding the incident in the cave in which five Maer lost their lives, we must judge, according to Maer law.” He paused, retrieved a scroll, and unfurled it in view of all, as if they could read it from that distance. Finn could not, but there was something familiar about the script. “As stated in the Parzek code, you may be found culpable in the matter, culpable with mitigating factors, or not culpable. You may also choose to be judged as individuals or collectively. How do you choose?”

  Finn looked to Carl, who was staring off at Ujenn, and to Sinnie, who was chewing her nails.

  “Together, I assume?” Finn tried to sound hopeful. Carl turned back to him and nodded, and Sinnie blinked as she took Carl’s hand in one of hers and Finn’s in the other. Her hand was warm, her grip light but with an underlying strength. She let go, and Finn stepped forward, speaking for the group as they had decided.

  “Together, if it please the Parzek,” he said. He thought Fabaris might have swallowed a tiny chuckle.

  “Very well. Keep in mind that the details of the alleged event termed by the Brocland humans as an ‘ambush,’ and we make no proclamation on the verity or lack thereof of said descriptor, shall have no bearing on our judgment here. Except, perhaps, as a possible mitigating factor for the humans before us to believe that their lives, and the lives of their loved ones, were in danger. I do not say this as a fact, but as a potential condition that may be considered, irrespective of the details of any matters not being discussed here. Is this understood?”

  Finn looked at the Maer leaders to try to get a read on what Fabaris meant, but they remained silent, impassive.

  “Each member of the Parzek must decide for themselves, and vote accordingly. Let our personal biases, which we all have, fall to the side. Let only the truth be our guide. I will sum up the information gathered thus far, after which each member of the Parzek is permitted to ask a question, either of me or of the accused. This will be followed by a short period of deliberation, then each of you will vote your conscience.”

  The Maer seated before them exchanged looks, and Grisol took hold of Pulua’s hand, both of them avoiding eye contact with Finn and his companions. Finn hoped this was just Parzek tradition, rather than any indication of a plan by the Maer to cast votes that would make it hard to look Finn and his friends in the eye.

  Fabaris repeated the information presented in the first part of the Parzek, almost verbatim, with the ease of one well used to reciting memorized material. Some of Finn’s masters at study had shown a similar ability, as memorizing arcane texts was one of the many requirements to ascend to the role of master. Even in Bodily Arts, which relied less on the written word than most disciplines, the higher-level work inevitably relied on ancient scripts for some of the most potent feats. Though they did have writing, the Maer seemed to be a more heavily oral culture, at least in their current state.

  Fabaris came to the end of his recital and paused, giving the words a chance to sink in. “The question before us is not whether the humans here present, Carl, Sinnie, and Finn of Brocland, took part in an attack that killed three of our women and two of our children. They have admitted they did, though the worst of the carnage, the most difficult to justify, appears to have been done by one not here present, named Nicolas of Brocland. The question is whether their actions were taken in what they reasonably supposed to be self-defense, in the larger meaning. They claim they were attacked, that villagers from Brocland were killed by these attackers, and that their actions were a continuation of their defense against the perceived threat. So you must consider the circumstances, and ask whatever questions you wish, and then, after deliberation, vote on their fate.” The audience was rapt, silent, almost reverent.

  Fabaris gestured toward Grisol. “As you were witness to the killings, I would like to offer you first question,” he said. “Take your time, of course.”

  Grisol stood. “I need no time. I have only one question, for Carl.” She locked eyes on Carl, who stepped forward. “Do you think Nicolas knew what he was doing, realized the cave was full of unarmed parents and children, and killed them regardless, perhaps as revenge for the death of his friends?”

  Carl nodded as he listened, his face serious.

  “I don’t think he knew what he was doing,” Carl said. “Only he can say for sure. What I know is that he is young and inexperienced, and had never seen combat, or a Maer, before that day. When he leaped into that cave, he saw only a bunch of monsters, for that is all the Maer were to him at that time. He might not have distinguished between a warrior or a noncombatant, or even a child. He might have just seen Maer, the vicious creatures of legend, of various sizes, and started swinging at the ones closest to him. So no, I don’t think he knew what he was doing, but yes, I do think he was reckless. I think he was foolish. I think what he did was tragic. And I know, having seen his reaction afterward, when the Maer were in Brocland, that he was filled with guilt and regret for what he did.” He paused, the Maer before him mostly shaking their heads in disbelief.

  “Very well, Grisol, thank you for your question. Pulua, do you have anything to ask?”

  Grisol sat as Pulua stood. She was thinner and older than Grisol, and looked generally less healthy, less in command of herself. But the look in her eye as she stood and turned to Sinnie was no less fierce than Grisol’s.

  “Sinnie, you have admitted killing my son, Dasta, as he hid behind a rock. How do you feel knowing that you killed a child, my child, in cold blood?”

  Sinnie stepped forward, her head hung low. She took a deep breath before answering. “Pulua, I feel sadness and anger at the situation that pushed our people to this point. I lay awake at night thinking of the hollow place in your heart where your son once was. I feel for your daughter, Margola, who will never know her older brother. I hate myself for what I had to do. But if the truth be told, I had no choice. I was ready to die to defend my family, just as Dasta died defending his. I mourn for your loss, and for the lost opportunity for our people to meet on better terms. I am truly, deeply sorry.”

  Pulua’s face hardened as she heard what was said, her eyes brimming over, just as Sinnie’s were. She gave Sinnie a piercing look, but one that might have been tinged with understanding, though Finn had a hard time reading the Maer’s facial expressions behind all the hair.

  The other three Maer before them had no questions, nor did Ujenn, who smiled sadly and shook her head when asked. When Fabaris aske
d Luez if she had any questions, the wiry Maer glanced at Karul, who nodded.

  “My question is for Carl, given his military background,” Luez said, and Carl stepped forward. “How likely is the Realm’s military to come after us here, after what happened on Hollow Road?” Finn wondered how Luez knew of the Realm, and of Hollow Road.

  Carl thought for a moment, stroking his beard, then spoke. “They will come for you, unless they can be persuaded that you do not exist, or that you pose no threat. The Realm’s soldiers will soon arrive in Brocland, if they are not there already, will ask the villagers many questions, and will await our return. They will be reluctant to extend their forces so far from the Isle, but if they feel that what happened was more than the work of an isolated group, they will seek to make an example of you. And no matter how valiant and clever you are, they would erase you from this mountain in a fortnight. Their numbers, armor, and weaponry are simply too great to resist with the forces you have here now.” Luez listened, her face impassive, and sat down when Carl had finished.

  Fabaris raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Not exactly relevant to the case at hand, but fascinating nonetheless. Does anyone else...” he eyed Karul, who shook his head, then Melka, who stood up and stepped forward, his large frame posing aggressively. “Very well, Melka, you shall have the last question.”

  Melka’s permanent sneer sharpened as he turned toward Carl. “It is my right as the blood relative of one who was unjustly killed to demand mortal combat with the killer. If your party were found culpable, and I demanded this ancient tradition be respected, would you accept?”

  Finn saw Sinnie put her hand on Carl’s back as Fabaris and Karul exchanged a puzzled glance. Fabaris fumbled for one of his scrolls, unrolling it and scanning the text until his finger stopped on a particular spot, at which point he gave Karul an exasperated nod.

  Carl squared his shoulders toward Melka and said “Yes.” He paused as the word echoed through the chamber. “I would gladly accept the challenge, if it is within established Maer law. Though I have no desire to partake in further bloodshed, I will honor the Maer tradition if that is your wish.”

  Melka’s sneer widened into a smile that was genuine, if not exactly friendly. He stood eyeing Carl for a few moments before bowing to Fabaris and returning to his seat, ignoring the scalding glances he was getting from Karul.

  “This question of mortal combat,” Fabaris said, side-eyeing Melka, “must be verified with further study, but at any rate it should have no bearing on the judgment of the Parzek. You may have a short recess to converse amongst yourselves as you see fit, after which I will call for a vote.”

  Grisol and Pulua exchanged a few heated words, while the other three Maer before them conversed in hushed tones. Karul and Luez appeared to be trying to talk sense into Melka, who by his body language showed he would have none of it. Ujenn watched them with obvious annoyance.

  “Well I guess this is the big moment,” Finn said, hoping to pull Sinnie and Carl out of their respective funks. “What are you guys thinking?” Carl gave him a blank stare, and Sinnie threw up her arms.

  “I honestly have no idea,” Sinnie said, her voice quavering, “and at this point I just want it to be over. And I’ll bet you a hundred denri that Carl is dying to go sword to spear with Melka. Dying, I tell you.” She shot an angry look at Carl, who waved her off.

  “I think we’re good,” Carl said. “We gave a full accounting, we held nothing back, and our actions were justifiable. Surely the Maer will see that. And if they don’t? I’ll take my chances in a sword fight over a visit to the executioner, or jail, which would be worse.”

  “So you don’t want to fight him even just a little bit?” Finn held his fingers a half-inch apart, prying a hint of a smile from Carl.

  “Well I wouldn’t hate knocking that damned smirk off his furry face,” Carl admitted. “But like I said, I don’t think it’s going to come to that.” He looked toward the Maer leaders, his gaze stopping on Ujenn, who noticed and returned it, her eyes softening as she looked at him.

  “Wow, she’s really put a spell on you,” Sinnie said, her sarcasm sounding a little forced. Carl did not flinch. Finn knew she couldn’t be jealous regarding Carl, not in the usual way, but she was clearly bothered by whatever it was between Carl and Ujenn. Finn didn’t think it was a spell, since he had been present every time the two had interacted, and he was pretty sure he would have noticed it. The time Ujenn touched each of their faces and spoke to them didn’t feel like a spell, exactly; more like an empathic ability. He had to consider that her power could look different than any spell he had seen, but deep down he didn’t feel like Carl was under any kind of magical influence. Ujenn’s eyes showed a power, and a depth of emotion, that might have touched Carl in ways the others couldn’t grasp. And why assume she had charmed Carl, that the attraction was not mutual? Maybe she was drawn to something she felt in him when she touched his face.

  The conversations died down as Fabaris stood up from the scrolls he had been scrutinizing to face the group once more. He looked at Carl, Sinnie, and Finn, his expression kind, then over to the Maer leaders, and finally to the five Maer before them, bringing the room to a deep silence.

  “You have heard the testimony, you have asked your questions, and you have had time to confer. Now is the time for judgment.” The word hung in the air for a moment. “Each of the members of the Parzek has been given one white, one black and one gray stone. The white stone means not culpable, the gray culpable with mitigation, and the black culpable. If one color receives more votes than the others, it is final. If more than one color receives the same number of votes, it falls to me to break the tie. A ruling of culpable will result in a sentence of death the following morning at sunrise. A ruling of not culpable will result in complete and immediate freedom. And if a ruling of mitigation is made, it is up to the council, including myself, to determine the degree of mitigation, and any sentence it deems appropriate. Does everyone understand?” All the Maer nodded their heads, and Finn looked to Sinnie, who fixed him with a pleading expression, and Carl, whose face was eerily calm.

  “Very well. Prepare your votes, making sure not to show them to anyone. You will put your vote in your right hand and your two unused stones in your left. I will bring around the vessel of judgment; drop your vote in the top hole and your castoffs in the lower hole.” As he spoke, he held up an earthenware vessel, burnished with age, the size and shape of a large gourd, but with a wider base. There was a small hole in the top of the vessel and a wider, hand-sized hole in the bottom. He approached Grisol first, and everyone looked away as she dropped one stone in the top, then two in the bottom. Pulua followed suit, then the other three Maer, followed by the four leaders. Even Finn found himself looking away each time a vote was cast. Sinnie stood between Finn and Carl, squeezing both of their hands tightly, like someone who is about to get stitches and is staring at the needle. When all the stones had been dropped in the vessel, Fabaris placed it carefully on the ground in between the three groups, gently removed the top, and scooped up the stones, spreading them out on the floor.

  There were four white stones, three gray, and two black. Sinnie released Finn’s hand and pulled him in for a hug, along with Carl; neither of them had the strength left in him to resist.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Carl saw Ujenn walking across the bailey in the dim light of dusk, heading in his direction. He stood up, ignoring whatever Finn had been talking about, watching Ujenn, who walked with purpose but without hurry, until she stopped about five feet from him.

  “Carl,” she said, gesturing and saying something in Maer. Her eyes shone, and she held out her hand. Carl stepped forward and took it, ignoring his companions and following her across the bailey and through the gate to the keep, which opened at their approach. She said not a word as she led him down a covered passage and into a room with a number of baskets and bowls on crude furniture crowding the walls, a table and two stools and a bed made of straw an
d furs, framed in by half timbers. She lit a candle, which gave off a powerful minty scent, and more smoke than light.

  She sat down on the bed, gestured to the space beside her, and said something in Maer. Her face was earnest, warm and welcoming, and in the dim light he hardly noticed it was covered in hair. Carl sat, and she put one hand on his knee and the other on his cheek, closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened her mouth, she spoke in Islish, or so it seemed to him.

  “Carl, I am so glad the Parzek went well. Justice was served, the dead were named, grievances were aired, and no one else had to die.”

  “I was glad not to die myself,” Carl replied, kicking himself for not coming up with anything clever to say. “I was hoping to see you again. To talk to you again.” A cloud of tiny moths fluttered inside his chest as he watched her face. The feeling when she touched him was like the first tingling of the gift he had lost so long ago, and the void at his core seemed to shrink with each moment. She smiled, closed her eyes, and nodded.

  “And I, you. But that is not why you are here now.” Carl looked into her eyes, which had grown hard, intense, focused. “Surely you have noticed some tension among the leadership,” she continued. “Some of it concerns the ambush, which was led by Roubay, Grisol’s husband, who ignored our counsel and went out on his own, and whose decisions were the cause for everything that followed. But there is another matter, a more serious matter, that divides and bedevils us. And in this matter, we may need your help.”

  “Anything you need,” Carl said. “I know the Parzek found us not culpable, but if there is something I can do to help, it will be done.”

  Ujenn smiled and took his face in both her hands, pressing her forehead against his, energy flowing between them, enveloping them. Carl wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment, but Ujenn pulled her head back, moved one hand away from his face, and locked eyes with him.