Princeps

“I object to that question, Honorable Justicer,” interjected Caesyt immediately, although his voice remained smooth and level.

The younger brother of one of Hyleor’s guards? For a moment, Quaeryt was silent before saying, “Please rephrase the question, Chief Pharyl.”

“Yes, sir.” Pharyl turned back to Jubyl. “Is not Bennar Fhandsyn a guard at the place where you sometimes work?”

“I know Bennar.”

Bennar Fhandsyn? Quaeryt knew he’d heard the name before. He just didn’t remember where or when.

“Did you know his brother Shannar?”

“He never talked about a brother.”

“Did you know Bennar’s brother?”

“I might a’ met him. I don’t remember.”

Quaeryt was convinced those statements were lies, even if there happened to be no way to prove that.

Pharyl asked more questions, but Jubyl’s answers never varied, and finally the chief stepped away and inclined his head to the advocate.

“Jubyl, you have said you were waving your knife and that the patroller walked into it. Why did you have the knife out?”

“Because there were Tilborans coming for me. That’s why. A fellow’s got to defend himself. He’s got that right.”

The faintest look of disgust crossed Pharyl’s face.

“Advocate,” interjected Quaeryt, “if you would please clarify any past connection to Tilborans … or not … as the case may be.”

“Why did you think the Tilborans were coming for you?”

“They’re everywhere. They didn’t stay in Tilbor.”

“Why not?”

“I donna know. They just are. I saw ’em. I did.”

“Have you ever seen any other Tilborans?”

“I told you. They were near the square. They were after me.”

“Did you take out your knife to attack them?”

“No, sir. I was just showing what they’d get if they came after me. Then that fellow patroller walked into it.”

After another half quint of questions, Caesyt said, “I have no more questions.”

Quaeryt turned to Pharyl. “Do you have any more questions or any other witnesses?”

“I have a few questions, Honorable Justicer.”

Quaeryt nodded.

“Jubyl, there are no records of your serving in any regiment posted to Tilbor. Why do you say that Tilborans were after you?”

“Because they were. They were.” Jubyl’s eyes went from side to side.

“What would you do if one of these Tilborans moved toward you?”

“A fellow can defend himself.”

“Would you kill one?”

“If he tried to attack me.”

“No further questions.”

Both Caesyt and Pharyl looked to Quaeryt.

“Do you have a closing statement, Chief Pharyl?”

“I do.” Pharyl paused for a moment. “Jubyl stabbed Patroller Shannar. That is without question. More than a score of people saw it. Jubyl claims he was waving his knife to keep away Tilborans. He has never been to Tilbor. The advocate for Jubyl will claim that the offender did not know what he was doing. Just a moment ago, Jubyl made a clear statement that he would attack only if attacked. That shows the ability to decide. He decided to kill Patroller Shannar. He did so. He is guilty and should be found so.”

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?”