The Court of Theological Equity convened not in some grand edifice but in a cramped set of chambers at the back of the City Consistory. Gherrit sat on a hard bench in an ante-room nervously adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. An escort from the Assessory sat beside him, impassive and silent. Fremin sat across from him with a Silver Spear, likewise silent. They had been warned not to talk to each other. Gherrit was in his best outfit, shoes polished, hair re-braided and face washed. Fremin had been provided with the brown cotton skirt and white sleeved linen shirt common on Brahnker City streets. A low hum of talk came from the room beyond the door, but Gherrit could not distinguish the words. He just sat there, worried and slightly bored.
The same thought had circled back for the sixth or seventh time when the door opened and the captain and officers of the Seeking Forgiveness on the Waters filed out. One officer, the one who had noticed Gzhunghik’s ability to sign the Path, saw Gherrit and halted in surprise. He was nudged and moved on after a low comment to his neighbour and they all exited in a buzz of murmurs.
“Yunierkiz Gherrit,” bellowed the court stentor from the doorway. “The Court of Theological Equity summons you to give and bear witness. Hearken and attend!” Ears ringing, Gherrit stood up and was ushered through into the courtroom. As directed, he took his place in the witness circle next to the Truth-Stone on its pedestal, then looked up. The four Luminaries in their orange robes sat on the left of the high bench, hoods concealing their faces. The three judges included a woman in blue and orange, the insignia of the Hearth, together with two men in dark blue trimmed with light blue. All three wore small blue caps. Gherrit was getting tired of blue. A man in a white hooded robe came forward.
“I am the Lamp of this court, here to ask those questions that shed light on the matters before us. I am told you speak fluent Merllan?”
“I do, messer.”
“I have no title. We will use that language, which will be translated for the august bench as we speak. We will begin with your name and status.”
Gherrit now noticed that each member of the bench had a whelk shell traced with patterns before them, Items common in Daruz Alman. The bench would not hear him unless they chose to, and could converse among themselves unheard. He laid his hand on the stone and affirmed that he was indeed Yunierkiz Gherrit, a citizen of Daruz Alman. The stone glowed a steady blue. The Lamp asked if Gherrit would permit the city-friend of Daruz Alman to observe. He would, and Seyastrik was brought in and seated to one side. Gherrit was relieved to see that he was soberly if richly dressed. Then the questioning began.
* * * *
“I think that went well,” remarked Seyastrik. He was treating Gherrit and Fremin to a late lunch at what he said was his favourite restaurant. That they had been allowed out on Seyastrik’s pledge was some comfort, and the food was good. Seyastrik had been greeted by name and ushered to a table on a broad balcony overlooking the city. Gherrit dipped a fish-cake in sauce and took a bite before replying.
“How so? I must have gone over everything said and done between the demon and I twenty times.”
Seyastrik leaned back. “The Lamp’s summation of your witnessing noted that at no time did you intentionally summon the creature, nor use it for any forbidden purpose, nor conceal it from others, and also that your intercourse with it took place in the Wild. The lay Assessors were nodding. While it is possible that simple association with a demon could incur a penalty, the new Conclave currently in session in Paghin Paail has agreed that intent is crucial in matters of this sort, and a lenient interpretation is strongly preferred. So I don’t think the Luminaries will get too stringent on a technicality.”
“Will we get out things back?” asked Fremin. “They brought everything out and I had to identify what was mine.”
“Depends on the outcome,” Seyastrik told her and signalled for the next course. Gherrit found the vegetable curry excellent if a little too spicy for his taste. The thin-sliced vegetables were crisp, the sauce creamy with a tang of lime, the rice had a nutty flavour that matched in well and swallows of white beer eased his throat. After some contented munching Fremin enquired as to when they could expect a judgement. In three or four days, at most a week, Seyastrik told her.
“So quickly?” queried Gherrit. In Daruz Alman cases took weeks at least, many some months and a few had been drawn out for decades. Both law and custom on the Brahnzhever insisted on swift justice Seyastrik told them, adding that this was not always a good thing.
The meal finished with small bowls of chilled cardamon custard and cups of liani, a herbal tea popular from the Brahnzhever northwards through both Saka and Haghar lands. Replete, Gherrit contemplated the street scene below. It was less colourful and more sedate than in Daruz Alman, where the crowds resembled flowerbeds in bloom and noisy haggling was the order of the day. Perhaps the street-preachers exhorting people to good conduct kept it that way. He put the question to Seyastrik, who chuckled and said that Brahnak vices were reserved for indoors. Then they made their way back to the court and were escorted from there to their rooms, where Gherrit worried for a time before indulging in fantasy schemes to to delver retribution to the partners. His plans were many but all failed on several counts: he had little but his clothes while they had wealth; he was a lowly clerk while they were respected citizens and, while he was certain they had sent him to deliver an illegal and dangerous object, he had no proof, not even the object itself any more. Should he return to Daruz Alman or seek a living elsewhere? The Brahnzhever did not appeal to him.
Seyastrik’s estimate proved right. Three days later Gherrit was again escorted to the court-house to hear the judgements. The first was delivered to a small courtyard packed with a curious throng. The same stentor who had deafened Gherrit now unrolled a scroll, presented it to the crowd and declaimed “People of the faith! You are gathered here together in witness. The Highest has informed our judgement on what these matters demand of our faith, our belief and our action.
“As the underman Dzunghik has shown herself by word and sign to be a reasoning creature, able to take such steps on the Path as her intellect allows, she is become a ward of the Assessory, to be provided with congenial surroundings and given instruction suited to her nature. And this shall be so for not longer than three years, when she shall be returned to her native lands that she might lead others of her kind to the Path.”
The stentor paused to let the chattering among the crowd die away, then raised his voice again. “The captain and crew of the Seeking Forgiveness on the Waters are commended. Yunierkiz Gherrit and Fremin Dtaie tel Jhaugusis are thanked for their witnessing and are free within the City upon their further good behaviour.” He rolled the scroll up with a snap, held it aloft in both hands and retreated within, leaving Gherrit puzzled and disappointed. Only ‘free within the City’? What of his belongings? Seyastrik leaned over to murmur in his ear.
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“You’ll hear the rest inside. Some words are not for shouting to the public.” Gherrit thought for a moment and then nodded his understanding. The crowd slowly dispersed, debating as they went on the prospects for conversion of undermen to the faith. His escort squeezed Gherrit’s arm and he followed into the building to a room at the back. This was bare but for a table and two chairs, at which sat one each of the judges and the Luminaries. As before the Luminary was hooded close, although Gherrit caught a hint of nose and the flash of an eye. The judge was the woman of the Hearth, her face composed into a mask of authority. Before them on the table was all they had brought from the Wild. Saore’s pouches lay there still dark with blood, his book and dagger and the contents – small piles of coins, notes, a bank seal, his flask and the glowstone on its necklace. Also there was the chest Gherrit had stowed under his bunk, the documents laid out before it, and an unfamiliar scroll bound in blue tape. Beside them Fremin’s pouch had yielded only a book bound in red leather, a notebook and stylus and a flat purse.
The judge began briskly “You have heard the main judgement. This court has also considered what is due under the principles of equity and I will summarise the findings for you. Fremin (I will speak informally) , your case is simple: you were held by the Wild pursuant to your own acts, released by Gherrit and leave the Wild as you entered it.”
“Two hundred and twenty seven years and forty-three days later,” interjected Fremin.
“Just so. Yet you leave with what you came. There is no party you can claim against nor anything due in equity. You may take what is yours.”
Fremin picked up the book and checked inside the cover, placed it and the rest in the pouch, saluted the bench and was ushered out.
The judge regarded Gherrit thoughtfully. “You gave us a full day of argument, young man.” Gherrit almost apologised. She went on “The Mage Saore committed an offence against you while under our law, for which he would be held liable. Then he died in the Wild and his possessions came into your hands. The court holds no judgement on that transaction, for the Wild refuses law. There were other offences against you, such as using you to convey the demon-tablet and an argument about whether you were due compensation for the tablet, as that is confiscate. Finally, you returned to our jurisdiction with the offences unrequited.”
She gave Gherrit a moment to digest this. “Under law and in equity you are due recompense from the Mage Saore. As he is dead your claim lies against his estate, and the court considered that much of that must lie in the Wild, for surely whatever uses he might put the underman or yourself to would not be done in lawful lands. We have therefore resolved first, to confirm that what you brought from the Wild is entirely, freely and incontestably yours (less the tainted Item) and second, to issue the writ of requital you see there. It enables you to seize and retain Saore’s assets wherever found. Although it is usual to cap the amount, in this case the uncertainties of recovery and concerns about infringing upon the Wild led us to leave it open. The writ does except from transfer bequests to natural persons to the value of one third of the whole.”
“So if perchance I find Saore’s hidden lair in the Wild, I can loot it without qualm?” queried Gherrit in a moment of pique.
The judge was impervious to Gherrit’s sarcasm. “You can, although you would be unwise to cite the writ as your authority in that case. The writ will be honoured wherever the Brahnzhever has reciprocal arrangements. This includes the Merllan Archipelago, the Haghar League, Frouan and Almanie.” Her eyes flicked briefly to the bank seal.
When Gherrit came out into the courtyard laden with pouches and chest Fremin was there talking to Seyastrik. He came up in time to hear Fremin’s complaint: “Two hundred and twenty-seven years and I’m poorer now than then if I feel my pockets. I wonder if my account has been closed? I had, oh, at least seventeen tulips.”
“If it hasn’t been, you are well off. Let’s see, seventeen compounding at two per cent, paid annually, that’s four thousand one hundred and thirty-one tulips,“ Gherrit told her.
“Unfortunately, accounts go dormant after nine years and then do not attract interest,” Seyastrik. “But if the bank is still there then your seventeen is safe.”
“Twenty,” corrected Gherrit, to Fremin’s irritation.
“For now you can both stay at my place. I have spare rooms,” offered Seyastrik.
* * * *
Seyastrik lived above his place of business, something rare in Daruz Alman but common here in Brahnker City. He had two floors above the three lower occupied by the counting house, with a separate entrance and a leap-step to save climbing past his clerks. That evening after dinner he asked what their plans were. They were sitting on a small terrace at the back of the house, enjoying nut-butter dabbed on wedges of flat-bread, a glass of wine and the lingering sunset.
“I don’t want to have to go back to Dtlag but I suppose I have to,” Fremin said glumly. “It will be a long walk.”
“As it happens I’m going to Dtlag as soon as I can get passage. You are welcome to come with me,” Gherrit told her. He had spent the afternoon thinking about his choices and had a plan in mind. Fremin grudgingly accepted his offer to fund her voyage and even took a small loan. Gherrit could afford it, for Saore’s pouch had held nearly one hundred tulips in mixed gold and silver and a further two hundred in notes. When she left to sleep Seyastrik regarded Gherrit shrewdly.
“Why Dtlag? Did not your original errand take you to Mer Ammery?”
Gherrit gave a bark of laughter. “Yes. To deliver a demon.”
“As I did not know what direction the court would take I held my tongue, but Pranik & Sguirres are known for sharp dealing.”
“And for dealing in illegal goods?” queried Gherrit.
“There are rumours,” conceded Seyastrik.
“Just out of interest, what would be the likely fate of someone who delivered a demon tablet to the kind of people who want such things?”
Seyastrik pulled a face, took a swallow of wine, waggled a hand. “Hard to say. If the messenger was unknowing, maybe nothing.”
“And if knowing?” pressed Gherrit.
“Then they probably do not return,” said Seyastrik slowly. Gherrit nodded.
“I thought as much. I have a few questions for you if I may and you should know there was a bill drawn on your firm among the documents I carried. The rest were ordinary commercial dealings in dye-stuffs – pink-weed and distillation of black rag-wort. I do need to get to Dtlag as soon as maybe, but not before I have collected some papers. I might also ask you to forward a letter.”
“I must admit to a continuing interest in this affair, if only because my dealings with Pranik & Sguirres have not been totally satisfactory. I would also like to see that bill, but speak on.”
“Well, first, I should tell you I can see auras and ether-weavings, although I don’t understand a lot of what I see. I had a useful hour with a physician-mage this afternoon; she said the effect should fade away slowly over a month or two, so I’d like to move while it’s still available. It was one benefit from the demon, along with a few answers. In one way I owe it my life, as the tablet with its presence leached away at Saore’s spells of flight and binding. Without it I would have met the fate designed the the underman Dzunghik. Anyway, here’s what I plan to do ...”