“No, sir.”
“That’s a relief. Can we get a branding iron made?”
“Ah … I took the liberty of asking around. I found an old one in an ironmonger’s. It’s Ryntaran, though, with the fancy ‘C.’”
“If necessary, that will have to do … for now.” And something else needing to be done. In recent years, most justicers had required differing brands-a “T” for theft, “A” for assault, and “F” for forgery or fraud-rather than general “C” for crime or criminal, regardless of the specific type of offense.
“The man who was assaulted wants to beg mercy for the fellow who attacked him.”
Quaeryt almost asked why the man hadn’t asked for the charges just to be dropped, but realized from his quick and intense study of the law treatise that charges could only be dismissed by a justicer after hearing the case-because all too often pleas to dismiss charges were offered by the victim in fear of retribution or because of threats to the victim or the victim’s family.
After discussing the procedures for a time, Quaeryt just walked into the chamber and to the dais, where he seated himself behind the simple, almost crude, stained table desk. “The justicing hearing in the city of Extela, the province of Montagne, will commence. I am Governor Quaeryt, acting as justicer. The first hearing is the matter of Vahlsyr Brennasyn, charged with assaulting a factor and troopers of Telaryn in the course of their duties.”
Immediately, a short stocky man attired in a black robe over his regular garb stepped forward. “Caesyt Klaesyn, representing the accused.”
“Pharyl, Chief of the Civic Patrol, representing the city of Extela.”
“Very well. Bring in the accused.”
Two patrollers marched in Vhalsyr, his hands before him in leather restraints, and positioned him directly before Quaeryt. Caesyt stepped up beside Vhalsyr.
“You are charged with two counts of assault. The first count is that of dragging the factor Hyleor Cylonsyn from his dwelling and place of business and attacking him with various weapons, including knives and whips. The second count is that of attacking the troopers of the Third Tilboran Regiment in the course of their duties.” Quaeryt paused. “How do you plead?”
“Not guilty, Honorable Justicer,” said Caesyt smoothly.
The patrollers led Vhalsyr to the backless bench below and to the right of Quaeryt.
From there Quaeryt waited as Pharyl called in the first of the four troopers, Melnar. Melnar described the situation, and his description mirrored the one provided by Hyleor.
Pharyl asked a number of questions, then stepped back. “The patrol has no more questions.”
“Do you have questions, Advocate Caesyt?”
“I do indeed, Honorable Justicer.”
Quaeryt nodded.
“Trooper Melnar, at any time did you see the accused with a weapon or holding a weapon?”
“There were whips cracking all over the place when we rode up, sir, and the one who fell on the fence had a long knife.”
“We know that Versoryn had weapons, but did the accused have one?”
“He must have. They all did … all of that gang.”
“Did you see him with a weapon in his hand?”
After a long pause, Melnar answered, “No, sir.”
“Did you see him strike Factor Hyleor or anyone else with his hands?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you see him act in any way against anyone else?”
“He started trying to hit the other rankers-and me-when we caught him. He hit me, and he hit Estall.”
“Did he inflict serious damage on any trooper?”
“Sir?”
“Did he hurt any of you?”
“I think Huryk got some bruises, sir.”
“Thank you, trooper.” Caesyt turned to Quaeryt. “I have no more questions for this witness.”
Quaeryt looked to Pharyl. “Call your next witness.”
Estall was the next trooper, and the patterns of testimony and questions-and Estall’s answers-were almost exactly the same as Melnar’s had been. So were the testimonies and answers from the last two troopers, although Huryk insisted that Vhalsyr had to have used a whip because the number of whips matched the number of people present.
“Vhalsyr Brennasyn, step forward,” ordered Pharyl, who waited until Vhalsyr faced Quaeryt before continuing. “Would you please tell the honorable justicer what happened on the night of Vendrei, the thirty-fourth of Maris?”
“Honorable Justicer…” Vhalsyr swallowed, then went on. “My brother told me he wanted to go talk with Factor Hyleor. He said he’d had enough of Hyleor’s shit with the girls, his getting them to smoke elveweed and snort curamyn. I told him that Hyleor was a mean sort. He said he’d take care of that. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go, but I didn’t want him to go alone. Except when we got to a block away, some more guys joined us. They carried whips, and some had knives. I didn’t know any of them. When we got to this house, there was a fellow unloading a little wagon outside the place, and Versoryn, he said that was Hyleor, and they all ran down the drive and wrapped him up with their whips, and dragged him out into the street. I yelled at my brother not to hurt him because he’d get in trouble. He yelled back that Hyleor deserved what he was going to get. Before they could do much, all of a sudden, there were all these troopers riding up. There must have been twenty of them, and they had sabres out. Versoryn, he went crazy, yelling about how Hyleor even had the troopers on his side. He went after one of the rankers or maybe his horse with a knife, and the trooper hit him with his sabre a couple of times. I couldn’t believe it. Everyone else ran, and I didn’t see what happened next. I was still standing there, and the troopers came after me. I tried to run, but they caught me…”
After that, Pharyl spent another quint or so asking questions, but Vhalsyr said nothing at variance with his initial story. Pharyl finally said, “I have no more questions.”
Then Caesyt asked, “Were you carrying a knife or a whip?”
“No, sir.”
“Not even a belt knife?”
“Oh … I had a belt knife. It’s barely as long as my little finger. I never took it out of its sheath.”
“You didn’t have a whip?”
“I never used a whip. I wouldn’t know how.”
“Did you ever strike any of the troopers?”
“Not until they jumped all over me, sir. I just kept trying to keep them from hurting me too bad.”
Quaeryt had his doubts about that, but he listened while Caesyt continued his questioning, until the advocate finally said, “I have no more questions.”
“Do you have a final statement?” Quaeryt asked Pharyl.
“Yes, sir. Whether the accused actually lifted a weapon does not matter. He willfully took part in a group activity that inflicted bodily harm on the factor and that assaulted troopers of Lord Bhayar. He admits to striking troopers, and to trying to escape, which is a sign that he knew what he was doing was an offense against the law…”
When Pharyl had finished, Quaeryt turned to Caesyt. “Your statement, advocate?”
Caesyt stepped forward and faced Quaeryt. “There is no doubt that the late Versoryn did in fact commit the offenses with which his younger brother is being charged, Honorable Justicer … but”-the advocate paused before continuing-“there is absolutely no evidence that Vhalsyr is guilty of anything but poor judgment in accompanying his brother. Not a single one of the troopers saw him with any weapon. The alleged victim of the assault has not appeared to testify-he was summoned, was he not?”
“He was,” Quaeryt said.
“The most with which Vhalsyr can honestly be charged is being disorderly in public, and that only because he felt he was being attacked unfairly by the troopers. That is the only charge of which he can possibly be charged. For those reasons, I move that he be found guilty of that and only that, and that his sentence be limited to the time in which he has already been incarcerated.” Caesyt smiled politely.