Princeps: A Novel in the Imager Portfolio (41 page)

While he didn’t relish the idea of being a justicer, he also couldn’t put off the hearings, not with Vhalsyr’s “uncle” getting involved, if through an advocate, not to mention the limited number of cells available or the fact that Hyleor refused to testify. He wasn’t looking forward to conducting any of the hearings, not at all, but he was especially dreading the one for Vhalsyr.

Pharyl came out to greet him at two quints before eighth glass, and the two walked back to the larger of the two studies in the building.

“The hearing room is ready, and I posted the notices where we could, and on the board outside. I put Vhalsyr first. His advocate has already been in to talk to him. He’s still there.” The chief looked quizzically at Quaeryt.

“You’re still wondering why I’m going ahead with the hearings? Because I don’t see any good justicers coming along anytime soon, and I don’t want people saying that we’re just locking people up and throwing away the key, especially High Holder Cransyr. Also, if some of them are innocent, unlikely as that may be, we don’t want them locked away any longer than necessary. Also … since Hyleor isn’t likely to show up, you may have trouble proving that Vhalsyr actually assaulted anyone.”

“I’ve thought of that. If the patrollers had arrested him, that could be a problem. The older patrollers have the attitude that anyone they bring in is guilty. Since Vhalsyr was caught by troopers … if it turns out that way, it won’t be quite that bad.”

“The patrollers are likely right about that. Vhalsyr’s guilty. I know that. So do you, but proving it with a High Holder’s advocate defending him and ready to report any irregularity is another question.”

“For the other three … what range of sentences are possible?” asked Pharyl. “Are they like in the regiment?”

Quaeryt realized, belatedly, that Pharyl was probably less aware of nonmilitary justicing than Quaeryt himself.
The half blind leading the blind.
“The possible sentences for conviction of lesser offenses—the first time—are various degrees of flogging and imprisonment, plus branding on the back of the hand for anything but misdemeanors such as public nuisances or drunken disorderliness. For a second conviction, much more of the same. A third offense merits death. Are any of the three branded?”

“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.

Quaeryt could see the situation quite clearly.
You’d be an idiot not to see it.

“I will take your motion under advisement, advocate.” Quaeryt looked to the patrollers flanking Vhalsyr. “Bring the accused forward.”

Caesyt stepped back slightly and then moved beside Vhalsyr once he stood in front of Quaeryt.

Quaeryt waited several moments before speaking. “Vahlsyr Brennasyn, this hearing finds you not guilty of two counts of assault, but guilty of the lesser charge of disorderly conduct. Your sentence is limited to the time in incarceration that you have already served. You are free to go. This hearing is declared closed.” After a moment Quaeryt nodded to the patrollers. “You can release him.”

The advocate looked stunned. “You’re … deciding … now?”

“You made your case, advocate. I don’t have to like it; I just have to go by the evidence.”

The three hearings that followed were anticlimactic. The accused had no advocates, and all three had been caught in the act with witnesses.

Quaeryt had no doubt that the entire matter surrounding Vhalsyr, Versoryn, Hyleor … and, of course, High Holder Cransyr was anything but over. He just hoped that he’d minimized the damage.

41

Surprisingly, at least to Quaeryt, the rest of Lundi, as well as Mardi and Meredi, turned out to be free of unforeseen difficulties, except for an afternoon rainstorm on Mardi, and some rumbling from Mount Extel on Meredi that died away within a glass—not that he wasn’t busy almost every moment of every day, whether in meeting with the tariff collectors gathered by Jhalyt and trying to determine what factors and others liable for tariffs had perished, and who had not—or their heirs—in going over the comparatively few charred but barely readable records reclaimed by Baharyt, and in checking the master ledgers for receipts that were all too few, mainly coins from the produce sales, against the expenditures that were all too many.

He also had to detail one of the regimental wagons to help Vaelora move supplies and the additional furnishings she had purchased various shops around Extela to the governor’s villa, just in order to make the villa “barely livable,” as she had put it, rather starkly. That brought up the point that the governor needed a coach and team, a teamster, and a wagon for the residence. Every day that passed, he discovered something else that was required. Vaelora had engaged Shenna as her secretary and also hired a cook and maid. She had also persuaded Quaeryt that they would move to the villa on Jeudi, and that had required transporting some grain and fodder from the post to the villa’s stable, among other things, along with working out a guard detail from the permanent cadre of troopers at the post … at least until he could make inquiries and get to work hiring governor’s guards.

The more that had to be done, the more Quaeryt appreciated the two months they had spent at Telaryn Palace, in effect a honeymoon where they had had little worry over the everyday details of life—even compared to the comparatively privileged lives of a governor and his wife.

Jeudi morning, after he saw Vaelora off with the wagons, he sat down at his desk in the small study to read a petition that had arrived immediately after breakfast from a messenger from a Factor Ruent, someone whose name Quaeryt had never heard. From the very heading, Quaeryt sensed trouble.

Quaeryt Rytersyn

Governor, Province of Montagne

Extela

Most Honorable Governor Quaeryt:

It has come to the attention of the undersigned factors of grain and produce that you, as governor, have required large holders of grains and root crops to sell significant amounts of these crops at a price significantly lower than they would otherwise fetch in the marketplace. While we understand the immediate need for flour among the poor, we must protest the manner in which you have made the flour available …