Quaeryt looked to Caesyt.
“Despite what the chief of the Civic Patrol has said, Honorable Justicer, Jubyl had no intent to kill, nor was he in his right mind. The fact that he is convinced he served as a ranker in Tilbor demonstrates this. Under the laws of Telaryn, a man not in his right mind cannot be convicted of deliberate murder if there was no intent to accomplish such. Therefore, while Jubyl may be guilty of involuntary assault, he cannot be guilty of murder.”
Caesyt inclined his head politely and stepped back.
For just a moment, Quaeryt was more than puzzled by Caesyt’s comparatively matter-of-fact defense. He wants him executed. But why? So no one can find out who hired him to kill Shannar and why? Even if the advocate did want that, Jubyl was still guilty of deliberate murder. “Bring the offender forward.”
Caesyt stepped back slightly from Jubyl once Jubyl stood in front of the dais, effectively leaving the man standing alone.
In more ways than one.
Quaeryt had to clear his throat before he spoke. “Jubyl Jonsyn, this hearing finds you guilty of one count of murder, and one count of assault in resisting the Civic Patrol. You are hereby sentenced to death by beheading.”
Jubyl twisted toward Caesyt. “You said you’d get me off! You said … you bastard!” His voice rose to a shout. “I did what you wanted…”
Three patrollers moved around Jubyl, one immediately applying a gag.
“This hearing is concluded,” Quaeryt announced. “There will be a break of one quint before the hearings resume.”
Slightly more than a quint later, Quaeryt was back on the dais, with almost the same onlookers-except for the young woman who had been crying. Shannar’s sister, lover, wife? Or Jubyl’s? No one had said, and unfortunately, it didn’t matter. Either way, she had lost someone she loved.
“This hearing is the matter of Cauflyn Coersyn, charged with theft of six silvers and assaulting a factor and others following the commission of the theft.” Quaeryt looked to the stocky advocate standing by the bench for the accused. “Are you representing the accused?”
“Yes, Honorable Justicer.”
Pharyl stepped forward, inclining his head to Quaeryt, then stating, “Chief of the Civic Patrol, representing the city of Extela.”
“Very well. Bring in the accused.”
Two patrollers marched in Cauflyn, his hands in restraints, and positioned him directly before Quaeryt. Quaeryt could see purplish yellow bruises on the left side of Cauflyn’s face and several scabbed-over cuts or scratches on the right side and on his neck. The muscular and brown-bearded man did not look up at Quaeryt.
Caesyt stepped up beside Cauflyn, who started to lean away from the advocate, then caught himself.
“You are charged with two counts, one of theft and one of assault. The first count is that of taking by force the wallet of the felter Heryd, and the second is of assaulting him. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty, Honorable Justicer.” Caesyt’s voice was as oily and smooth as Quaeryt remembered.
“A plea of not guilty is entered.” Quaeryt nodded to the patrollers.
The patrollers led Cauflyn to the backless bench below and to the right of Quaeryt and sat him down.
The first witness was the felter himself, an older and almost frail-looking white-haired man, whose shaking hands suggested too many years close to too many liquids not best for the health. Heryd’s words told a longer version of Pharyl’s summary, and Pharyl asked questions, the answers to which filled in many of the details.
Then Caesyt began his questions.
“Felter Heryd … is it not true that Cauflyn only held the coin box for a few moments before throwing it to the floor?”
“He threw it to the floor … that’s for sure. My boys were coming after him.”
“They were in the back of the shop, weren’t they?”
“That they were.”
“And there was no one between Cauflyn and the door, was there?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Was there anyone else in the front of the shop besides you and the offender?”
“No, sir.” Heryd’s voice trembled as much as his hands did.
“So he could have run out the door with the coin box?”
“I suppose so.”
“But he didn’t, did he?”
“No,” replied the felter grudgingly.
“Did he hit you at any time?”
“He wrenched the box from me.”
“But did he hit you?”
“No, sir.”
Pharyl called the felter’s two sons and began to question them. As questioning went on, Quaeryt couldn’t help but note that both were very slight and slender, like their father. Quaeryt thought both of them together might not weigh as much as Cauflyn.
After Pharyl finished questioning the sons, Caesyt began his interrogation, offering variations on the same questions he had with Heryd.
After that, Pharyl called several patrollers, who recounted their stories. Under Caesyt’s questions, they had to admit that Cauflyn hadn’t actually attacked them, which suggested to Quaeryt that the felter’s sons had been overenthusiastic in capturing and holding Cauflyn for the Civic Patrol, before the patrollers had taken him to the patrol station and confined him. That, again, raised the question as to why the strong, large, and heavily muscled Cauflyn hadn’t simply broken free and fled.
“Cauflyn Coersyn, step forward,” ordered Pharyl, who waited until Cauflyn faced Quaeryt before continuing. “Would you please tell the honorable justicer what happened on the night of Samedi, the thirty-fifth of Avryl?”
“I’d been to Sazyl’s, and I’d had a tankard or two. I wasn’t feeling that steady, and I went out for some air. I came back. I thought I was in Sazyl’s. I wasn’t. I picked up this box. Then I realized it was a coin box. For a moment, I thought about taking it. Then I dropped it. Those fellows tackled me and beat me, and the patrollers came and took me away.”
Quaeryt listened carefully while Pharyl questioned Cauflyn again and again, but Cauflyn said little more than he had in his first statement.
He’s trying to get a light punishment, but he doesn’t want to be released soon. That was Quaeryt’s feeling. The tough didn’t want to give Quaeryt an excuse for losing a hand or worse, but he wasn’t trying to slant his story in the way so many of those Quaeryt had heard over the last weeks had done.
Caesyt persisted in trying to show that what Cauflyn had done was little more than disorderly conduct.
When all the questions had been asked, Quaeryt turned to Pharyl. “Your closing statement.”
“Cauflyn Coersyn entered the shop of the felter Heryd, seized the coin box, and attempted to take it. When he saw the felter’s sons coming for it, he dropped it, and they caught him. Whether he dropped the coin box or not does not matter. He took it with the intent of theft.”
“Your closing statement, Advocate Caesyt?” said Quaeryt.
“Cauflyn Coersyn was confused. He likely had stopped by a public taproom or cafe. He went into the felter’s thinking it was someplace else. He took the coin box, then realized it was not his and dropped it. The most with which Cauflyn can honestly be charged is being disorderly in public. He made no attempt to escape, even when he was struck and could have. He struck no one, and there is no testimony here that even mentions assault, and that being the case, I move that the assault charge be dropped.”
“Honorable Justicer…” interjected Pharyl.
“Yes.”
“Cauflyn seized the coin box with force. Use of force in the case of theft or attempted theft is assault.”
“Advocate Caesyt, your motion is denied.”
Quaeryt looked to the patrollers flanking Cauflyn. “Bring the accused forward.”
Caesyt stepped back slightly and then moved beside Cauflyn once he stood in front of Quaeryt. Cauflyn did not even glance in the direction of the advocate.
Quaeryt announced, “Cauflyn Coersyn, this hearing finds you guilty of one count of assault and guilty of one count of theft. You are hereby sentenced to five strokes of the lash and branding on your right hand, followed by incarceration for one to two weeks, at the discretion of the patrol chief. This hearing is declared closed.”