January 25, 2012

• Té Teperedcé Kroné: The Debtor King, Part VIII

  

  “Wise lady,” began the elderly man, “we charge this prisoner with the crime of murder, for six days ago he did slay our only son cruelly in the desert.” A gasp rushed forth from the crowd like a gust of wind through a grove of trees, and the king’s heart nearly ceased to beat, for murder was punishable by death and he had only sat in judgment over a charge of murder once in the whole of his kingship. This revelation, he noticed, did not seem to startle Lady Dauabré in the leastwise way, for she merely held up her hand bearing the keys and all were again silenced. She then bid the man to continue, demanding that he support his high claim.

              “Lady, it was that our son did frequent the desert lands in search of cacti fruits and other goods to be found if one is wise and their craft is good. But on the day of his death this brigand ambushed him, murdering him and taking his horse and clothing. It was that two days passed before one of the king’s own desert scouts descried from afar off the vultures that circled our son’s body, and upon discovering the body followed tracks unto a cave a half-mile hence wherein lay the murderer asleep in the raiment once worn by the slain. This scout is present here and is willing to offer testimony.”

              Dauabré nodded and a young, lean man stood and came forward. He was dressed in the white robes of the king’s desert scouts with the Golden Hand of Médash embroidered upon his breast, and he bore at his side a scimitar. His voice was clear and strong as he testified, saying, “I am new-named Furkirérn, having forsaken the name of my birth when I swore my life to Médash, whom I hail as my king. All is as the man has spoken: I was scouting in the desert, for the vampyre hordes are known to frequent the region, and I saw afar off a circlet of vultures. Thus did I ride for them, thinking perhaps I would find a sign of my quarry’s passing, when I did discover the sad sight of the boy, his body naked and head caved in by the weapon that smote him. I knew it was no vampyre that did the deed, for there was a great deal of blood upon him and his neck was molested not. Spying the remains of tracks in the sand I rode all their length unto a cave where I found the murderer sleeping. I knew it to be him by the blood on the clothes as well as by the very fine horse tethered nearby. It was a simple matter to bind him and bring him here for the king’s justice, and I pray I shall never see such a thing again in all my life.”

              The elderly woman began to weep and her husband embraced her so as to comfort her. Dauabré brought her gaze to bear upon the prisoner and said, “Look upon me, prisoner, and tell me if all that has been spoken is truth or no.” The prisoner simply nodded his head but would not meet her gaze. Thus did her eyes narrow, and of a sudden she leapt down from the Golden Throne and strode quickly over to the prisoner, much to the enstartlement of all present. Taking hold of the lad’s jaw behind his great beard she bore up his face and looked into the very depths of him, “Boy!” she said aloud, “I have bid you look upon me, I who am your judge! If you did not know that I hold your life in my hands, know it now as I grasp your head!”

              And the lad was terrified and shook all over.

              “Tell me: are the claims afore now truth or no?”

              He said, “They are true.”

              “Then it is that you slew their son?”

              “Yes, I did slay him.”

              “Then you are guilty?”

              “Yes, I am guilty of the lad’s blood.”

              Dauabré let go his jaw and the lad fell into his seat as though he had no legs. Half way to the throne she halted, saying over her shoulder without turning around fully, “Boy, what is your name?”

              King Médash, whose heart had nearly burst with sorrow at the lad’s confession, stood up as a small hope reinvigorated him. The lad said, “Nenoma, for I am alone.” At this she turned fully and continued, “No-Name, why is it that you killed the son of those who charge you with his murder?” The elderly couple started, for they had thought the trial to be ended, and now they feared that their justice might be taken from them. Nenoma began to cry bitterly, and his body shook such that the rattling of his chains could be heard by all.

              “I was trying to catch a locust that I might eat it,” he began, “when there rode a young man in fine clothes atop a great horse as I had never seen. He did not at first spy me there in the rocks, but when he began to drink from his waterskin he took note of me and laughed. He called me a tumbleweed and a desert rat, though these names did me no ill for I cared not. But a great thirst had settled upon my tongue for the length of a day and more and I had no water of my own. I begged him for but a drop of his supply and he refused.”

              Furkirérn it was that Dauabré then called, asking of him, “Loyal scout, was it that the prisoner bore anything else besides the raiment of the dead? Was there upon his person any jewelry, perhaps?” The scout thought for a moment, saying, “Yes, my lady; there was a signet ring of course, with the seal of his household upon it. It was that in my sorrow I returned the ring to the boy’s father when I delivered news of his death.” The father reached into his robe and retrieved the very ring, “Here is the ring of which you speak, though I do not see why we now do speak of theft when murder is the greater sin.” Dauabré’s gaze leapt upon the man as though it were a lion pouncing and she said sternly, “True, citizen, but there are sins greater even than theft and murder here. Now give the ring to the scout that he might attest to its legitimacy.” Such was done before she continued, “Loyal scout, do this court the favor of telling us why you did violence to the prisoner’s face when capturing him.”

              Furkirérn looked at her as though she had asked a riddle of him, and after a time he said, “My lady, I am confounded, for as I have testified he was asleep when I came upon him, and thus there was hardly a struggle at all. Why, then, do you accuse me of violence?”

              “Because otherwise I cannot discern how it is that the mark upon the prisoner’s right cheek came to be. Would you do this court the favor, then, of examining the mark and describing it aloud?”

              The good scout bowed in affirmation and proceeded to carry out the lady’s will. He testified, saying, “May it please the court to know that there is indeed a mark of some violence upon the left cheek of the prisoner. It is in the shape of a lozenge, nearly the size of a child’s thumb, and within the lozenge are the faint tracings of some design.” His words trailed off into silence for a moment, and in a heartbeat he glanced down upon the ring he yet held, glanced anew at the mark, and cried out, “By heaven, the mark is the mirror-image of the very ring I bear!”

              Voices all throughout the throne room rose up in a din like unto that of a great cataract of water, but Dauabré did nothing to silence it, for it seemed as though a great relief had come upon her and she sank into the throne for a time until the din had settled before speaking again. “Nenoma, tell us how it is that you came to bear this mark.”

              “My lady, it was that the man who refused me water did strike me with the back of his hand. I had grasped at his leg in my begging, and he struck me with great cruelty.” A new din threatened to burst but Dauabré stood and quelled it, and it seemed as though the crowd were a woman in the beginning of her labor who was forced to restrain all within herself, and the very air groaned silently with the strain if it. She said, “What did he then do?” Nenoma began to weep, and though his words were broken there was no difficulty in understanding him, “Then he laughed anew at my misfortune and spat in the sand, saying to me ‘There is your drop!’ before he began to trot away, laughing all the while. In a fit of rage I cast a stone toward him but I never meant to strike him. Yet my aim was true and the stone caved in his head, and the man fell to the sand in an instant. I was terribly afraid so I ran to my cave to hide. Night soon came, and my lady knows that the winter nears and the nights are now especially cold. To my greater shame I returned to his body and took all his clothing and all his possessions in the hope that I might survive against the cold a few days longer, and I took his horse that should my cave fail to prolong my survival any longer I might ride afar off and find shelter elsewhere. Thus did I live for five days more when I awoke bound by the scout who found me, and I did not resist him for I knew I deserved to die.”

              A change came over the faces of the elderly couple as though the ice of their hatred for the prisoner had melted to pity, and the great suppressed din was birthed in a great sigh. King Médash seated himself as though a heavy peace had pressed him back into his seat, and he began to praise God quietly in his heart. Dauabré then looked upon Furkirérn and said, “Scout, your craft is keen in the ways of discerning wounds and their causes; would you judge that a stone could have dealt the blow you saw upon the slain?” The scout bowed, needing not to say another word. Only then did Dauabré stand, raising in her hand the two keys, and her voice rang throughout the chamber as though a rich thunder, and carried upon it were these words:

              “Thus do I, Dauabré, in the name of King Médash, pronounce my judgment! You, Nenoma, I do find guilty of murder, and thus shall I sentence you. Yet also do I find the slain guilty of attempting the same crime for which the lad before us stands condemned, for by his own selfishness he had condemned him to slowly die in the desert. Since he is dead I hold the parents guilty for his crime, for it is that he should have learned charity in their home.”

              The couple looked on completely stupefied, and the crowd roared in dismay, though not long before they were silenced again, “Therefore, Nenoma, I sentence you to seven year’s servitude beneath those whose son you murdered, for they are of advanced age and it was the son’s part to care for them. Now it is that his office shall fall to you, and you must serve them with all honor and diligence.” Looking at the elderly man and his wife she continued, “For the cruelty of your son I command you to take Nenoma as your slave, but you must treat him as you would a son. You must provide for his every need, and you shall give him a proper name. At the end of seven year’s time you shall grant him his freedom, as well as whatever sum of money you deem charitable that he might start a life elsewhere.” There was then such a cacophony of confusion that nothing could be done to silence it, and so it was endured for the better part of a quarter hour before silence could be gotten. It was henceforth known as the Spéstrémne, the Speech-Storm, and those who were present at its raging told tales of it later.

              “Thus have I spoken!” Dauabré cried aloud as the last voices died away, “Thus you shall die, Nenoma, for you will cease to be No-Name and alone in the desert. Thus shall the two of you have justice for your son also, for it will be Nenoma’s burden to bear the hardship your son’s absence would have caused you. Now go and dwell in peace.” The Spéstrémne stirred anew and having exhausted herself Dauabré retreated to her chambers and there wept long into the night until she passed into a deep sleep from which she did not wake until late into the next morning. Médash permitted her slumber, for he was so impressed and so pleased with her judgment that he spent the morning himself alone in deep contemplation.

  Those who bore witness to all that occurred that day are wont to relate to others that after the passage of one year’s time the elderly couple, having become so fond of their new-named Sereférn, came again to the very same court to ask the king’s permission to adopt the boy as their son. When seven years time had come to pass since the trial that bound them to one another they bequeathed to him the fullness of their dead son’s inheritance, and Sereférn became prosperous and wealthy and a friend of the king.

   

  • 10:30 am
  • 1 Comment