Chapter 14: Veiss
Four gigantic stone columns held up the great space. An enormous mural was painted on the ceiling, depicting the fall of the old empire. On either side, between the columns was a public gallery littered with clan civilians. Below that, long pews reserved for agents and clan officials.
Two jailers strode into the cavernous hall. They wore black robes that trailed the tiled floor, with flowing sleeves and deep dark hoods. On their backs lay the mark of fate in golden embroidery. Behind them floated two men, tightly bound in EM Chains. The jailers halted their advance toward the end of the room. Gestured and the two floating captives rotated upright before the empty judge’s bench.
The murmurs from the public gallery became boisterous upon the arrival of the accused.
“It still gets this packed.” Veiss twisted his head regarding the crowd above.
It was beyond him why they always came out in full force despite how short and predictable open court was. As the arresting agent he was obligated to be there; the only reason was he attended open court anymore.
“It’s always packed,” Diaby said through his dust mask, his body slumped and dark eyes sulking. “People enjoy spectacle.”
“No shit…so you heard from your sister yet?” Veiss asked in an attempt to spark more conversation.
“Dybala?” Diaby spat out the name sourly, gave him a disgusted sidelong glance. “Is that why you’ve been dragging me along everywhere?”
“Of course not,” Veiss snapped. ‘You shouldn’t have asked.’
Diaby frowned at him with those dark eyes that resembled her sisters.
“In any case,” Diaby said, returning to his brooding slump. “She’s just as indifferent to me as she is to you.”
Veiss shifted his gaze to conceal his irritation. It was hard enough to enquire about her without also having to endure an unfavourable response.
‘From her lazy brother no less.’
His eyes darted around for a distraction until they rested on the bound Dan and Tomas. Despite the jailers guarding them, the pair was isolated, alone despite the packed gallery. They were no attorneys like on the surface to dig them out this predicament.
The clan’s justice was much too different. Much more divine as the believers would say.
The accused received no defence but there also wasn’t a prosecution. Because these proceedings were no debate, there would be no middle ground, no contest wits between two parties trying to discredit each other and no damn appeals would be heard once the verdict was issued.
‘Judgement in its purest form.’
A heavy door behind the bench swung open, its weathered hinges screaming, begging to be oiled.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Oath Keeper emerged, in regal robes of black and gold. She had long curly hair in a gold ribboned ponytail. She made her way up the bench. Arranged her workspace, tapped on the microphone and it squeaked feedback.
“Quiet down!!” Oath Keeper banged her gavel twice. Held her chin high and menacingly swept her eyes across the hall as she waited for the crowd to settle.
The murmurs and chatter faded.
Satisfied, Oath Keeper lifted an electronic headband to the crowd. Her delicate hands motioned to crown herself with the relic of the old empire, a truth seeker.
“Court is in session!” Oath Keeper banged her gavel. “As per section 1.994 I can attest to witnessing the accused’s pre-trial inspection and can confirm that both accused are void any signs of subliminal waving, chemical therapy and all known methods of compulsion. Let us begin.”
It became eerily quiet. People were holding their breath. There was anticipation in the air, an eagerness to witness divine judgement or perhaps divine salvation.
“Are your names Dan Williams and Tomas Williams respectively?”
“Ye—”
“Guilty!” Oath Keeper banged her gavel interrupting Tomas before he could answer.
“Have you attempted to escape the confines of the mine endangering the concealment of the clan?”
“We just wante—”
“Guilty!”
Again Tomas was interrupted mid-explanation. Dan remained silent, glaring daggers at Oath Keeper.
‘If only looks could kill.’
“Did you attempt to flee knowing the rules and purpose of those rules?”
“Yes but—”
“Guilty!”
Oath Keeper banged the gavel three times. “I hereby find Dan and Tomas Williams guilty of all charges brought forth against them. In accordance with their crimes I sentence both accused to the maximum penalty of death by furnace.”
Oath Keeper banged the gavel once more. “Court dismissed!” She gracefully uncrowned herself. Lifted from her seat, down the bench and glided into the backdoor she’d come and it shrieked closed behind her.
‘Sweet and short. Exactly how justice should be.’
There were no shouts of disapproval, murmurs of disagreement or cries of injustice.
Despite the nature of it seeming scandalous no one judged the outcome as unfair. The truth seeker didn’t need their answers or explanations. Only questions to trigger a mental response and come to a verdict.
There was no middle ground only divine justice. As long as the questions were direct enough justice would prevail.
“Please don’t do this. Please.” Tomas sobbed as the jailers escorted them along.
Their next destination was their last destination. The furnace, their final resting place, within the hell flames that humbled a great many of the clan’s traitors.
“First you force us to stay!” Dan bellowed. “Now you’re killing us! Our clan is no better than the federation…”
Veiss sneered. ‘Trying to sow discord.’
“…the master is using us for his own agenda—”
“Together!” Veiss thundered, shot up and hoisted a fist.
“We are strong!!” The crowd shuffled to their feet and the hall boomed back in response, drowning out Dan’s ranting.
“Together!”
“We are strong!!!” The hall shook even louder, the chant more in sync.
“Divided!”
“We fall again!!!”
“Divided!”
“We fall again!!!”
“No one leaves!”
“Until we all can leave!!!”
“No one leaves!”
“Until we all can leave!!!”
“Traitors!”
“To the furnace!!!”
“Traitors!”
“To the furnace!!!”
The unity chant, one of the many compulsory teachings created by the 2nd Master Fate’s to create culture and discourage anarchists like Dan.
Not that Veiss was overly concerned with Dan’s mutterings. They might’ve perhaps moved one or two people. Ultimately the clan’s ideals weren’t so weak they could be shaken overnight.
But as the heir apparent he wasn’t one to miss an opportunity to take the spotlight and the traitor had set him up perfectly.
“No mercy for traitors!” Jeered a man in the public gallery. Leaned over the balcony with his middle finger aimed at the captives.
“Let the selfish bastards’ burn!” Another voice said.
“Let them burn!”
“Divine Judgement!” Diaby joined in.
The mob rallied together in outbursts of condemnation.
Dan eyeballed Veiss, his lips working ferociously, spit spraying but Veiss couldn’t make out a word of it from the buzzing of the crowd.
‘No doubt cursing me though.’
Veiss shook his head.
It was beyond him how some people could blame everyone but themselves for their own fuck ups.