January 18, 2012

• Té Teperedcé Kroné: The Debtor King, Part VII

  

  A quarter of an hour passed by when it came to pass that a man and a woman entered, both dressed in plain clothes and both with distraught looks upon their faces. The man walked with a limp and bore his left arm in a sling, and his face was bruised and pained in expression. Once they had taken their seats an older man was escorted in, his face hardened by hard living, his skin tan and rough, his hair iron-gray and a great mustache giving him all the more severe a countenance. The wife of the injured man spoke, saying, “We wish the lady to judge whether the man to our side ought to compensate us for the injuries his beast caused to my husband. His condition is such that he cannot work, and thus have I been forced to sell many of our possessions so as to have money by which to eat.” The collective heart of all present was moved with compassion for the poor couple, and the appearance of the accused seemed all the harder and easier to despise. When asked of his reply to the charge the man said, “I am called Gréston, and I am a stonemason by trade. This couple asked that I lend them a draught horse of mine and so I did, and it is not my fault if the man has no gifts in mastering such a creature. It is his own foolishness that caused his injuries; not mine.”

              The injured man cried out, saying, “Am I Adama, that I can command a creature to do my will? I had relied upon your training of the horse that my will would be easily known by it, and you promised it would obey me well. I set my life upon your word and I nearly did lose it!”

              The accused laughed with half a heart and said nothing further. Bhéalmal stood of a sudden and said aloud, “Enough; I have made my judgment this very moment, for it is plain to see what must be done. You called Gréston are free of guilt, for it is not as though you trained your horse to do your neighbor harm. However, because it did harm unto a child of God the horse will be given into the possession of your accuser, and when comes the time that he is capable of the deed he has every right to either sell the horse or to slay it for the ill it has done him. As for the livelihood of the injured, until such time that you are healed sufficiently to seek work you shall be granted leave to receive your daily bread from the royal kitchen, that you might not feel so poignantly the sting of your poverty. Thus have I spoken; see to it that the will of this court is carried out to the letter.”

              All were amazed at the quickness of her judgment, and from that day on and for many to come there were those that called it the Court of Lightning, for it seemed that judgment struck quickly and was pronounced like thunder. Its like was never seen again for it was not the custom of King Médash to judge hastily even when the circumstances seemed simple. It grieved him, too, to see such brevity, though he presumed it was the eagerness of Bhéalmal to please him that drove her in haste to judge and overlook any other outcome than that which was most plain. Thus it was a surprise to her when she came to him smiling and showing him all courtesy, and yet he said to her, “Good lady, my heart grieves your judgment,” and he could say no more. Distressed, she departed for her chambers. Dauabré yet remained, and too did Edhsél, though it was that the former only spoke to him, asking, “What, my king, ought have been done that justice might be fully served? For her judgment seemed sound enough.”

              “Yes, it was indeed just, but when justice is without mercy even greater injustices are sown. In this case it is that a hard and uncharitable heart was given leave to depart unchallenged, for though all fault truly lies with the mindless beast, still it was Gréston’s duty to care for the needs of his neighbor until such a time came that the neighbor needed nothing further. Now he will harbor a bitterness toward his neighbor because of the loss of a fine horse, and the neighbor will harbor bitterness toward him because he received not even an apology, and a rift will build between them. Such things sadden my heart, Lady Dauabré, and I grieve this day’s events greatly. I foresee that I will again hear these cases and see once more the faces of these people at a future trial, whether it is theirs within my kingdom or mine in that to come.”

              Beholding the somber look upon his face, Dauabré asked of him, “My lord, would you desire that I retire to my chamber, that you might sit in judgment for the final case for the day? For I do not desire to burden further your weary heart with my own failures.” He smiled somewhat and said to her, “No, my lady, I must offer you the same opportunity that I offered the other four. Take these keys, and do what you will.”

              The Lady Dauabré then took her seat upon the Golden Throne and, calling for the next case to begin, she watched as the guards escorted in a man and a woman clothed in like raiment, and it was that they appeared to be in the end of their middle years. The woman wore a thin, black veil over her head and the man wore a black sash from his shoulder to his waist, and thus all present knew them to be in mourning. As they took their seats the guards brought in shackles a young man whose appearance startled everyone. His hair was long, dark, and unkempt and he bore too a beard that looked as though it had never been cut. To clothe himself he wore naught but a camel skin and his color was made greatly dark by a lifetime in the harsh sun of the desert. He looked all about with frightened eyes and though he appeared from without to be a wild animal his eyes betrayed a human soul.

              Surveying all of this Dauabré spoke, “I am the Lady Dauabré, eldest daughter of the Lord Hornston of the Wastes, the Unknown King and Watcher of the Night. It is that I bear the keys of judgment and sit upon the Golden Throne, all by the grace of God through King Médash, and it is his desire that I sit in judgment over you. Thus you shall heed my words as you would his own, and thus we trust that the will of God shall not be frustrated by my vicarage. Tell me what charge you bring against this man.”

              “Wise lady,” began the elderly man, “we charge this prisoner with the crime of murder…”

  • 8:54 pm
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