at all.”
“I can see why I didn’t,” Trika said, her eyes narrowed now. “You’re nothing more than a—-”
“Trika!” This time, her father put a hand on her shoulder. “Be still!”
“I will not!” she fumed. “Why should I let Levron accuse me of—-”
“Because it’s true, and you know it,” her father interrupted. “I’ve ignored your behavior far too long. You’re aware of what they call you in town, aren’t you?”
For a brief moment, Trika’s haughty expression cracked. “Trika the Tease,” she said at last, her voice gone very quiet.
Levron bowed his head in Trika’s father’s direction. “I think it best I take my leave,” he said. “I’m fairly certain I won’t be back in Streamwood for a long time, if ever, so I wish the best of everything for you both.”
He turned and entered the inn, a headache beginning to pound behind his eyes. But the unfortunate meeting had been worth it . . . he now had the answer Perran wanted.
Perran couldn’t deny the emotional cost of Levron’s meeting with Trika. Levron had hardly spoken a word other than to recount the conversation he had shared with Trika and her father. Knowing how difficult that meeting must have been, Perran vowed, somehow, to set things right. Perran earnestly hoped a situation similar to this one would not occur in the future.
Court in session, he stared at the two men seated before his table and made a show of inspecting the receipts they had given him to prove their loss. Let them squirm a little, it certainly wouldn’t do them further harm. Finally, he motioned for Barro and Haivel to stand.
“What I have here are receipts for the goods you have lost. Once again, I ask, can either of you prove the damages created by the other?”
Barro darted a quick glance at Haivel. “I saw him ruin my cloth with my own eyes.”
“And I,” Haivel said, “saw Barro destroy my paper.”
“But neither of you has a witness. It’s only your individual accusations that this is what happened.”
“My cloth is ruined!” Barro exclaimed. “I saw Haivel dump the paint on it!”
“And I saw Barro destroy my paper!” Haivel growled. “Whose word weighs more here, his or mine?”
“Are you asking me a question?” Perran leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t answer questions, I ask them!”
Both men seemed to shrink slightly.
“My apologies, your lordship,” Haivel said quietly.
“So.” Perran studied the papers again. “You, Barro, suffered a loss of ten silver soleri for the destruction of your fine bolt of cloth, caused, you say, by Haivel upending a bucket of paint on it. And you, Haivel, suffered a loss of ten silver soleri because you claim Barro took a knife to your delivery of paper. All because you’re both acting out of a misguided sense of jealousy and revenge. You, Haivel, courted Trika for a considerable time, and when she started seeing Barro, you reacted.”
Haivel’s face turned red and he stared at his feet.
“And you, Barro,” Perran continued, letting his eyes stray to where Trika and her father sat, “reacted in anger because you claim Haivel destroyed your cloth. As you said, Haivel, it’s his word against yours and your word against his. Now how can I tell who’s guilty and who’s not? Since neither of you has a witness, and, Haivel, I’m not certain I believe your witness exists, I’m left in the unenviable position of having to decide a case that has no easy resolution.”
Silence gripped the room. Perran noticed several people glancing sidelong at Trika. If those gathered to watch the trial were any example, what Levron had recounted regarding Trika’s manipulations in the past seemed to be all too familiar to the citizens of Streamwood. And now he had to make a judgment. Both had suffered losses, but the reasons behind the vandalism of each man’s property could be left squarely at Trika’s threshold. Not that they were innocent. Perran believed each had told the truth despite Haivel’s story about his witness: Barro had seen Haivel destroy his cloth; Haivel had witnessed Barro shred his delivery of paper.
Perran gathered the two receipts and set them aside.
“Now hear my judgment,” he said. “By the authority granted to me by the Son of the Sun, whose rule of law emanates from Vkandis Sun Lord, I speak. Barro, I believe your recounting. Even with no witness, you have proved it more likely than not Haivel destroyed your fabric for which you paid ten silver soleri. Therefore, he will pay you that amount to recoup your loss.”
Barro’s face lit up and a smile touched his lips. Perran turned to Haivel, whose expression bordered on the shocked.
“And Haivel, you also have no witness, but you have proved it more likely than not Barro destroyed your paper, for which you paid ten silver soleri. Barro is ordered to pay you that amount to make you whole.”
Barro’s eyes widened and Haivel lifted his chin.
“And now,” Perran said, “I come to the portion of this trial that strays from the normal path I usually take. The two of you,” he continued, “have behaved poorly for men of your standing in Streamwood. Now I understand, or I can try to understand, feelings of betrayal on your part, Haivel, and the jealousy that followed. And you, Barro, you reacted in vengeful anger at the ruination of your property. Vengeance I can also understand. However—-” and here Perran stared directly at Trika who sat next to her father “—-there is someone in this court who is ultimately responsible for setting these actions into motion. Trika, will you and your father stand?”
Trika’s face froze into a pale mask, and her eyes darted left and right as she and her father rose.
“I find you guilty of playing petty, emotional games with these two men. Therefore, in my authority as judge, as penalty I fine you twenty-five copper soleri to be paid to Haivel and twenty-five copper soleri to be paid to Barro.”
A muted gasp rippled through the room. Barro and Haivel exchanged a glance, then looked away. Trika’s father glared at his daughter, who had lowered her eyes to the floor, no longer flaunting her beauty as a seductive weapon.
“And,” Perran continued, “I caution you, Trika, to think how your actions can influence others. Emotions are easily manipulated in certain circumstances. Perhaps this will teach you to be more considerate of those around you. And so, by the authority vested in me, I conclude my judgment. In the name of the Son of the Sun and Vkandis Sun Lord, so shall it be!”
Levron had never felt more relieved to depart a town after a judgment. He rode next to Perran, for the first time in two days feeling unburdened by what lay in the future.
“I want to thank you again,” Perran said. “I asked a great deal of you, and I hope you understand the need. What you told me illustrated in detail how people can behave so badly. It’s always a shame to see these things happen, but I’m willing to wager this won’t be the last such case I’m called to judge. Only next time, you won’t be so intimately involved.”
“It was my duty,” Levron replied, warmth flooding his heart at Perran’s apology. “Yes, it was draining. Yes, I wish I didn’t know the three of them. I will say this, your judgment was superb. I found it amazing to see how you dealt with Barro and Haivel. Fining Trika the fifty copper soleri to be paid half to Barro and half to Haivel meant each of them left court owing nothing to the other, and a bit better off besides.”
Perran chucked. “Do you think she will have learned anything?”
Levron thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Probably not. It will take more than a fine to change her, unless her father reins her in at last. Perhaps it might happen one day when someone she truly loves spurns her.” He lifted his head, took a deep breath of the fresh scents of the fields that stretched off from the roadway. “I will tell you this: I never want to return to Streamwood. If there’s another case to be tried there, I beg you . . . please find a substitute.”
Perran laughed and lifted the reins, urging his mount to an easy canter. Levron touched his heels to his horse and caught up, a smile touching his face warmed by the late afternoon sun.
Misty and I are asked some very clever and insightful questions when we’re doing Q&A sessions at conventions. One thing I invariably say is, “A Star Trek™ writer once told me, ‘I have one brain to get it right, and the fans have a hundred thousand brains to find what I got wrong.’ ” There are fans and there are Fans, and the True Believers memorize every detail, and how it all comes together, and they make webpages, trivia games, and databases and keep track of all details. We love that. It’s awesome.
We put amazing levels of worldbuilding and research go into even the most casual mentions and tertiary
