“The 30,000 krun is judged to be what the dead man would have earned for his family in ten years,” said Cadwulf. “Mellwyin won’t have the krun himself, so his family will pay the judgment.”
“What if they can’t pay?”
“Then Magistrate Vegga and the registrar decide on what the family can afford. That could include family members working for the victim’s family for no pay for a length of time.”
“What does probation mean?” asked Yozef.
“If he commits another serious act of violence within those ten years, he might be banished from Caedellium. If it’s a premeditated act, or the act is serious enough, he could be sold to Frangel slavers and the coin given to victims or their families. Normally, those with such sentences are held in confinement in Preddi, awaiting the slavers who come about every five or six months and collect all those condemned to either banishment or slavery. Since the Narthani stopped all ships except their own from coming to Caedellium, such people are being held in Orosz City until a solution is found. Some have been there for several years.”
“So this is not normal … to keep them imprisoned here in Caedellium?”
Cadwulf frowned. “Why would we keep them imprisoned? They’d be a burden on the community. They are punished by fines, whippings, or probation or sent away from Caedellium, either as exiles or slaves, depending the severity of their crimes.”
“So there’s no death penalty on Caedellium?”
“Only for the most heinous crimes, where the person is judged so dangerous that even sentencing him to slavery or banishment off Caedellium would place others in future danger. It happens rarely, but I know of two such cases in Keelan Provence during my lifetime.”
“What about an appeal? Can the accused, if found liable or guilty, try to have the decision changed?”
“The adjudicator’s assistant,” Cadwulf indicated a man sitting to one side of the judges table, “will write a report of the facts of the case and the judges’ decision. The report goes to the Keelan hetman, Culich Keelan, in Caernford. The accused and his family can write to the hetman at the same time to give reasons the sentence should be changed. Most of the time the hetman won’t change the verdict. He might reduce the penalties, but he never increases them.”
During Cadwulf’s explanation, the day’s session ended, the three judges filed out, and the spectators began to leave. Yozef had numerous questions.
“Cadwulf, if you have no other plans for evening meal, I’d like to talk about what we saw here today. Could you join me at my house? Elian always cooks more than enough.”
“A pleasure. I had no plans, other than eating with my family. Give me a moment to tell Father not to expect me this evening.”
Cadwulf left Yozef standing alone and returned a few minutes later.
As they walked the mile to the house, Yozef recounted the day’s cases to check whether he understood the proceedings and details of Keelan law and whether there were differences with those of other districts. That is, what was general to Caedellium and specific to Keelan?
“Cadwulf, when you said this Camrin fellow will likely find another farm woman to marry him, you said you’d explain later.”
Cadwulf grunted. “Oh, yeah. Well, it’s that there are often more women wanting husbands than there are available men.”
More women? Yozef thought. On Earth, there were about 105 male babies for every 100 females. He remembered something about the speculation that male babies were more susceptible to diseases and male adults died more from hunting or fighting—some kind of evolutionary compensation to even out the sexes during the reproductive ages. However, somewhere around thirty to forty years, it evened out and from then on, there were more women than men. Why would the sex ratio of births be different here than on Earth?
“There are more female babies?”
“Yes, something like ninety-six boys to every hundred girls. I forget the exact numbers. It’s thought the different ratio is God’s plan to assure there should be equal numbers of men and women later in life, since women can die in childbirth. I was never convinced of this reasoning, because men die in accidents more often than women. There also used to be many more men who die in clan fighting than happens now, but I don’t see how God planned for that.”
Well, if it’s God’s doing, he has different plans for Earth and Anyar. One thing’s for sure—at least one of the theories to explain the sex ratio differences is wrong.
“So, with a shortage of available men, I assume that since Ser Camrin is gone now, the odds aren’t good for the woman to find another husband, if she wants one?”
“Yes,” said Cadwulf. “One might think an unmarried adult woman owning a small farm would have many suitors. The problem is many-fold for her. She’s already been married and has two children, which are negative factors for some men and families. Also, farms aren’t as valuable as before, since the Narthani won’t allow shipping of our grains to the mainlands. And finally, most men are already married. As you might expect, the unmarried men tend not to be of the most desirable types.”
“Such as Yuslir Camrin?”
“Such as him, or simply not a man whom a woman might risk tying herself to, because when they marry, he becomes the owner of all of her property. Some women prefer to remain unmarried, rather than take the risk. On the other hand, when an appropriate man is available, the competition among women can be fierce.”
“Available? Like widowed or a newcomer?”
Cadwulf nodded. “Or from a dissolved marriage, if the woman couldn’t be lived with or if there’s reason to believe she’s infertile, and the husband wants children. The husband can petition and be granted a cancellation of the marriage; then all of her original property reverts to her, so the man must be very serious about wanting children, or he has property of his own.”
Yozef shook his head. “I think the woman today, Hulda Camrin, will have a hard time. She’ll have three-quarters of her original farm, no husband, and two children to care for. From the details we heard, I assume the husband did all, or most, of the farm work.”
“That’s a problem for her. If the farm had been larger and more productive, they might have had several workers. But since it’s a smaller farm and no other workers, it’s difficult to see how she’ll keep it.”
“You said the farms are not as valuable as in the past, so she might not get much coin if she’s forced to sell.”
“A bad situation for her,” agreed Cadwulf. “In that case, she’ll need to find family members to take in her and the children. The option should work for her, since the family is obligated toward the children, and she’ll come with some coin from selling the farm.
“However, not all farm women are in such a difficult situation. Did you notice the woman sitting on the other end of our bench?”
“No. There were a lot of people, and I was paying attention to the cases.”