Jindleyak Justice

Polished 16 — 1h30m06s — 2021/11/15

Polished — 43m56s — 2022/01/22

There was a large platform in the center of town, not far from the Fountain of Jeiju. Meriona wondered who else had taken these steps in cuffs, and more importantly, what punishments had they suffered? Were they as guilty as she? Did any of them manage to avoid the fate they deserved with an eloquent argument? She hoped for a lenient judge, preferably one to which she might pander, but her hopes were not high.

The stage wasn’t empty. Several dwarves and a handful of children, dressed in colorful motley fooled about for the entertainment of the audience—but now that the main show was about to begin, the peacekeepers brushed them from the stage with the cheers and jeers of the audience to see them off.

Meriona was sat in a chair facing cock-eyed, halfway toward a box full of jurors, and halfway to the general audience. Bruck and Naiphan were seated around her, which she didn’t feel was fair. Why was she sat in the middle? What made her the leader when these men never listened to her orders?

Slowly, those about her settled and cleared the stage, and the accused Jay got her first good look at the jury gathered before her. The jurors were not as Meriona expected. They were not a serious and pedantic lot with regal apparel, exceptional grooming, and sharp eyes. Instead, they were a sordid bunch with dirty cloaks and abused hats. One of them did not even have a hat. His hair was a wild tangle that begged for scissor and comb; fit only for rats, or roaches. With wild-eyes, he twitched and fidgeted as he stared about the massive crowd of commoners that gathered before them. Despite his weird behavior, this juror was not an anomaly among his peers. Another ducked her head and picked her nose with a single-minded vigor. Meriona watched, aghast and embarrassed, as the filthy woman extracted her treasure, examined it, then placed it between her stained and jagged teeth. She glanced up to see Meriona looking at her. Instead of turning her head in shame, or perhaps pretending nothing had happened, she stared at the accused and challenged her. Chagrined, Meriona turned her head, not willing to upset one of the jurors over such a small impropriety.

Another of the jury was a young and disheveled man that held his bare foot in his lap. He picked at his toes with a bit of a stick. His feet were dark with dirt and filth, and despite the distance between them, Meriona was quite sure she could smell him. Another juror looked as dirty and old as time itself. She had a menacing scowl about her face—mostly for her fellow jurors. The fifth juror with his mouth agape, stared wide-eyed at the audience and generally exaggerated their mood; laughing and clamoring when they cheered; hissing and cursing when they jeered. The sixth juror appeared to be nothing but a common drunk sleeping off a hangover. His face was dark red with a bulbous nose of the deepest purple. Despite the chill of the morning air, he refused any cover—except his hat, with its edge pulled over his eyes—as he lounged at an awkward angle and snored. His cloak served as a blanket over his lower half, and Meriona almost expected it to slip and reveal he was naked underneath. How any of these idiots came to wear the robes of authority was beyond the Jay. What sort of a backward people were these Jindleyak to let such simpletons sit in judgement?!

Although he stared at Meriona, it took the hatless juror several beats to realize the accused were now in attendance. As it happened, his face turned red and lit with a rage. He glanced between them and the milling crowd, then leveled a finger at Meriona, Bruck, and Naiphan. “Hang ‘em!” he yelled as he stood to his feet and leaned out of the juror's box. “Hang 'em all! Burn 'em up! Meat for the fire!”

To Meriona’s horror, the crowd cheered and laughed. A chant of “hang ‘em!” went up among the rabble. Several of the other jurors clapped and clamored—to think they already had a verdict before the trial had even started—but the bailiff tugged the first juror's robes and whispered in his ear.

“Fine!” The wild-eyed juror snapped as he pulled from the large armed bailiff and flopped onto the bench with a pensive frown. The next juror turned to the pouting man and began to mock him with snivels and snorting. He poked the man with the filthy end of his foot-digging stick. The first took offense and slapped at the stick-wielder. It might have turned into a full on brawl between the two if a peacekeeper hadn’t interceded by sitting between them in the juror box. The serious and placid peacekeeper sat between the jurors, quite calm, despite the enormity of such a wild exchange. Still, the jurors tried to strike each other without drawing the notice of the large and sober man between them—and the gathered masses responded approvingly to the show.

Meriona glanced at her fellow accused and found Naiphan and Bruck equally puzzled and frightened by what they witnessed. A thick knot of fear formed in the Jay's stomach. There would be little if any reasoning with these jurors. Indeed, she figured the deal was already made. This was nothing more than a show for the general public—and the Jay and her Jaded Blades would play the goat.

The bailiff took the center of the stage, banged his staff against the wood boarding, and brought the trial to its official start. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” he roared to the gathered crowd, “IF YOUR HONORS WOULD BE SO OBLIGED!” he bowed to the seated jurors, “AND WITH THE CONSENT OF THE ACCUSED!” the bailiff waved a hand at Meriona and the two Jaded Blades—though he paid them no real attention. “THIS TRIAL BEGINS!”

The crowd cheered. Meriona turned to her advisor—a bored and detached cleric that seemed to be capable of the job—if only he were interested. “What if we do not consent?” she asked.

The advisor shrugged at her question. “If you do not consent, you shall be locked in the jailhouse until you do,” he turned and stared at her. “Unless you like the food they bring you, it is best to see these things through as quickly as possible—but that is just my base opinion. Shall I ask them to stop? Shall I tell them you do not consent? Do you require more time?” he blinked. “You’ve tried the food. I promise it does not get any better.”

“And what of my punishment? Will it be any better if we drag things out?” Meriona asked.

The cleric shrugged. “If you have something to confess, or perhaps some bargain to make, it might be best. But if they think you are simply trying to avoid judgement, it will be worse,” he told her. “Does it work any different in your country? Does wasting time tend to reduce the severity of a sentence?”

Meriona shook her head. She knew no judges in the world that were more lenient after their time was wasted and their patience worn thin. Indeed, the quicker the better with most. She wondered if it might not be too late to bargain. If she begged for mercy, it might only lead to a less grisly death. In Minist, they would simply hang her instead of boiling her. They would chop off her head instead of having her drawn and quartered. They would slit her throat instead of drowning her in a horse trough. Perhaps she might take a bit of painless poison instead of being burned at the stake. Her only consolation was that no matter her fate, she should not be captive to these backward people much longer.

The cheering of the crowd eventually died down. Having everyone’s attention, the bailiff continued. “Let us hear from the accusers! Scurra, Aim, and Elpis of the family Yockupp! Andrus, Homoth, and Duboha of the family Trandhill! Creigal berDuvante, Duke of Gaurring; and his good men, Baetolamew, and Carringten! Celesi of the Bouge, and Wenifas, Priestess of the Blooded Moon! We beckon you to the stage! Let us hear your charges!” he called.

Meriona sneered at the reverence given the title of priestess—as if Wenifas was anything more than breeding stock! Still, the blooded cow was allowed onto the platform and given a reverent seat far from the scraggly jurors.

The bailiff turned to the accusers. “Please, tell the people and these fine jurors what occurred on the road to Excergie.”

Scurra stood and stepped forward to speak. Meriona tried to keep a stoic face as she stared at the Jindleyak lady, now dressed in green and silver. Even with finer clothes, she looked lean and sinewy tough—but not in the used and undernourished way of the priestess. Scurra's toughness was trained and intentional. Meriona felt if she was forced to fight this lady, the battle would be short and rather unpleasant.

“Your esteemed honors, keepers of the peace, ladies and gentlemen of the gathered crowd,” Scurra began as she bowed to each in turn. “Several nights ago these men and this woman—and two more of their company that have sadly perished...”

“And how have they perished?!” Someone called from the crowd. A smattering of whispers rose from the audience though no one else raised their voice.

The Bailiff banged his staff. “A valid question, to be sure, but I shall have to ask you to keep it until the lady has given her story.”

Scurra smiled, then launched into the stories of the arrest, of how Grunther assaulted Duboha and was subsequently killed; and also the tale of the leviathan and how it crushed Todehis. The stories caused quite a stir among the gathered masses—especially that of the leviathan. Even the jurors sat with rapt attention as she told of the legendary beast. Questions about the creature abounded. They were so thick that the Bailiff was forced to cut in. “We are not here to judge the leviathan,” he glared at the booing crowd.

“None of these men would have died or even been arrested if we had not caught the lot of them trying to kill our esteemed colleagues: the Duke of Gaurring, and the lady Wenifas,” Scurra concluded.

“These are foreigners!” someone called. “And this crime happened across the border. Why are they charged in a Jindleyak court?”

The bailiff gave a nod and Scurra answered the question. “This duke and priestess travel in the Trohl Freelands under the care of the Oak and Beast. We are Jindleyak, and we have high standing among our people. Since we captured these foul agents, since the duke and priestess are agreed to see this matter settled under our authority, and since our Pulbouge brothers have seen fit to let us bring them across the border of their land; we ask the good people of Excergie to administer God’s justice in proper Jindleyak fashion,” she proclaimed.

There was a long pause as Scurra’s words sunk in. The first juror took the opportunity to stand on his tippy-toes and scream at the accused. “Burn ‘em!” he glared. “Burn ‘em all!”

Elements of the crowd scoffed and cheered. Several more of the wild-eyed jurors took up the call. The peacekeepers moved to settle them down, though the crowd generally cheered the antics of the jurors and booed the interceding peacekeepers. As the peacekeepers settled the jurors, many among the gathered crowd broke into song.

“Boil 'em in oil!

Kill 'em with fire!

Until they're as black,

as their heart's desire!”

And so they sang.

Meriona sagged as she imagined this day would not pass well for her. She stared at the floor of the platform and studied the wooden grain—but the trial did not end just because the Jay was no longer interested. Instead, each of the Jindleyak party was called to witness. From time to time some random member of the audience cut in to ask a clarifying question. Some of the questions were shrugged aside by the bailiff as irrelevant—but a surprising number were allowed. At times, Meriona wondered if they would ever finish. The longer it went, the more she found herself wishing they’d simply get on with it.

Yet, the worst was still to come. The worst was the testimony of Wenifas. She was the last of the party to be called center stage, and by Meriona's estimation, the most dramatic and heartfelt of all the speakers. Her story was also the longest. She spoke of Camp Calderhal and the attacking bugbear. She told how she met many of the party as they journeyed to Ebertin. Meriona noted she covered up a few convenient details, like the death of her lover, and her loathing of Creigal's guard—though she told of her banishment at the hands of Meriona and her harrowing journey east. Then, although she was not the first to talk of the leviathan or of the naga, she was the first to weep as she told of her dead son. Meriona felt that was unfair and should not have been allowed. Claiten’s death was in no way the fault of the Jay, or the Jaded Blades. Indeed, they were prisoners when the attack happened! Still, Meriona realized it’d only make her look heartless if she challenged the doe-eyed priestess with such pedantic details.

Of course, the testimony of the priestess was further exaggerated as her speech was given in Ministrian and had to be interpreted for the jury and crowd. There were such pauses between her and the interpreter that birds could be heard across the square. Wenifas had to stop several times as she told of her dead boy—and the interpreter also had to pause as she too cried over the dead boy.

Meriona glared at the two, disgusted by their kvetching. This conniving priestess was using her own dead child to seal the Jay’s fate! It might have been commendable if she’d used it against one of the Jay’s own enemies—but this was sickening!

The impassioned pleas of the priestess caused quite a stir—especially after the matter-of-fact testimony provided by so many of the military men. The cynical side of the Jay had to admit that it was a smashing good piece of theater—though it meant that the lowly heifer had now defeated her twice in court! How appalling was that?!

The testimony of Wenifas ended. The crowd whispered and counseled among themselves as they waited for the next witness to be called. Noting an opportunity, the messy-haired juror launched to his feet with more vitriol for the accused. “HANG 'EM!” he demanded. “HANG EACH AND EVERY ONE!” He roared. “FEED THEIR EYES TO THE RAVENS! REDUCE THEIR BONES TO ASH AND SCATTER IT ON THE ROAD!” He screamed as the peacekeepers tried to settle him down.

The crowd reacted accordingly. Several took up a chant. “Haaang 'em! Haaang 'em! Haaang em!” they sang as the juror encouraged them with wild waving arms. “HANG ‘EM!” he roared in the faces of the ever-patient peacekeepers. Several of the other jurors joined him, though a few remained disinterested, or simply oblivious. The drunk did not include himself—though he was now wide awake. He stared about the others, frightened and disoriented by the noise. Then, as he realized the noise had nothing to do with him, he curled into an uncomfortable looking pretzel and once more covered himself with his cloak.

The efforts of the bailiff and his peacekeepers was proving fruitless, and Meriona wondered if the mob might charge the stage and have whatever justice they might take. Since the firm stance and frowns were not working, the bailiff finally smashed the blunt end of his staff against the floor of the platform as he roared at the petulant jurors. “SILENCE!” he bellowed, and stared down the general audience as well.

The uproar died down. though a few errant calls of “Haaang em!” continued for several more seconds before they dwindled and finally died away altogether. The bailiff turned and addressed Meriona and her men. “WILL THE ACCUSED SPEAK ON THEIR OWN BEHALF?" He asked. The advisor looked at the men and woman he was supposed to inform and simply offered up a shrug. He would be no help at all.

“We did not do it!” Naiphan stood and called to the crowd. “We are guiltless!” Though he spoke Ministrian, he was understood by a good number of the crowd. They hissed and booed to hear his denial.

Meriona snorted. She stood, took a step forward, and bowed her head. “What if we should beg the court for mercy?” she began in a calm manner. “Since our capture, we were promised leniency for our cooperation, and we have cooperated in full. Now, we ask for the leniency we are due.”

“Then it is true?” the bailiff asked. “You intended to kill the duke, the priestess, and anyone else that stood in your way?”

“If we should admit to such crimes, will our punishment be any less?” Meriona asked. “If we should say that these others have given you the gist of it, will you treat us with leniency?” she asked, a touch petulant.

Bruck grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?!” he growled at the Jay.

“And what convincing lie might you tell?!” she snapped back at him. “They tell the truth, and they tell it well! Let us end this and have our punishment,” she pulled her arm away.

The bailiff nodded. “If you admit to your crimes, I do believe the jury will offer you leniency.”

Meriona stared at the Bailiff. She turned to Bruck and Naiphan, both of whom shook their heads. She rolled her eyes at them, then stared at the Bailiff as she admitted their guilt. “It is more or less as they have told you,” she nodded.

A thick murmur washed over the crowd and the bailiff banged his staff. “Is there anything else you wish to say?”

Meriona shook her head. “What would you have us say?”

“Very well. Court is adjourned for one hour!” the bailiff said as he smashed his staff on the platform.

The crowd turned to themselves, abuzz with the news. The jurors were escorted to a fine table set up in the square and bombarded with food and questions from the public. Meriona and the Jaded Blades were escorted from the platform by the bailiff and a thick knot of peacekeepers as the audience took up another chorus of Kill ‘em with Fire—though Meriona was happy to note that it was a halfhearted effort.

“And what shall become of us?” Meriona asked their council. as they were led from the platform.

"We shall take a break in the shade,” he said. “Afterward, we will hear your punishment.”

“And what might that be?”

“If I could guess at how these things would always turn out, then there would be no reason to go through such a long-winded ordeal,” The cleric shrugged, as he continued to be of little help.

Meriona, Naiphan, and Bruck were escorted from the platform and asked to sit upon some blankets under a massive oak. Peacekeepers were gathered all about them. While they waited, commoners approached with bread, cheese, fruit, meat, and other delicious morsels. They gave food to the guards, and the guards graciously took it. They ate it while the commoners offered some bits to the captives too.

Seeing the quality of the food, and being quite hungry after the long and arduous trial, Meriona and her Jaded Blades took the offered food—though they were pestered with additional questions as they ate. Though the commoners continued to give them bits to eat as they asked their difficult questions, none of them were in the least bit violent. Indeed, they treated the accused quite kindly. Meriona wished that a few of them were jurors instead.

"Why do they give us so much?" Meriona asked as she stared at the growing pile of food before her.

The advisor shrugged. “They figure that if it should be your last meal, at least it should be a good one.”

This chilled Meriona’s appetite.

The hour ended and the accused were taken before the jurors once more. Although the crowd had thinned, there were still several hundred commoners to watch the finale. Having seated the accused, the bailiff banged his staff on the platform. “THE JURORS HAVE REACHED A CONSENSUS!” he announced. A cheer went up from the crowd. “THE ACCUSED ARE FOUND GUILTY OF ATTEMPTING MURDER AGAINST A GOOD MAN AND A GOOD WOMAN THAT GAVE NO CAUSE! THE PUNISHMENT TO BE CARRIED OUT MOST IMMEDIATELY IS THE WORST TO BE SUFFERED UNDER JINDLEYAK JUSTICE—FOR THE WISE KNOW IT IS WORSE THAN DEATH ITSELF!” the bailiff said to the gathered crowd. He turned on Meriona, Grunther, and Naiphan. “THE ACCUSED ARE BANISHED FROM THE FREEST LANDS UNDER THE SKY, NEVER TO RETURN, ON FORFEITURE OF THEIR VERY LIVES! SINCE YOU ARE FOREIGNERS AND BORN TO BACKWARD WAYS, YOU MAY NOT RECOGNIZE THE TRAVESTY OF THIS JUDGEMENT! IT MAY SEEM A LIGHT PENALTY, SIMPLY TO RETURN TO THE LAND OF YOUR BIRTH! ASSUMING IT IS SO, TAKE THIS FOR LENIENCY! IF NOT, IF YOU WISH TO REMAIN IN THE GREATEST LAND THE EARTH HAS EVER KNOWN, BEG US FOR SLAVERY, OR EVEN DEATH, AND YOU MIGHT HAVE THAT INSTEAD!” He stared at the accused—as if they might actually take him up on such an offer. A roar of approval went up from the crowd—though the bailiff and his peacekeepers ignored it. Instead, they stared at the Jay and the Jaded Blades as they waited for their answer.

Meriona turned to Bruck and Naiphan. She gave a nod and a shrug, shocked that they might be let off so lightly. Wide-eyed, the two Jaded Blades nodded enthusiastically.

The bailiff turned to the crowd once more. “SO IT SHALL BE, AND SO IT IS!” he said and banged his staff. The crowd cheered as the the bailiff signaled to his peacekeepers to escort the accused from the square. Meriona, Bruck, and Naphan breathed a collective sigh of relief, happy to know it was only banishment.

The crowd continued to cheer and began another chorus of “Boil ‘em in oil,” as the accused were led to the back of a wagon. Meriona felt light as she was sure she would not suffer much longer! How had she avoided death with such a vindictive lot of imbeciles to decide her fate?! To think her life was hers so long as she never returned to this backward land! It seemed too good to be true—the best possible verdict—except that Gliedian would surely be disappointed. There was that to attend. But what had he expected when he gave her only four men?!

Yet, this was not the end of their punishment. Instead, children pressed on the wagon, and after they handed some coins to the guards, they were allowed to see the prisoners once more. At first, Meriona and the Jaded Blades thought they only meant to gawk. “You have brought this on yourself!” a young boy yelled as he threw a handful of hard bits at the prisoners. Meriona and the throat-cutters yelped and cursed as they were stung by the metal rounds. They glanced down to see what it is these children threw. They were coins. Steel coins.

And so this other punishment began in earnest. A storm of steel coins rained down on the captives and bit them in a hundred different places. It did not end as they passed under the west gate of the town. Instead, children ran after the wagon for the better part of a mile and threw coin after coin after coin. A few of them threw the coins by the handful—yet others were snipers, and launched them one at a time. The guards ignored the protests of the accused as the coins pelted them again and again.

The barrage ebbed and flowed as the wagon bounced along the rough road. Meriona thanked the gods that she could hide most of herself, especially her face, behind Naiphan and Bruck.

The wagon pulled further and further from Excergie. The crowd of children dwindled as they ran out of coins. Eventually, they faded away altogether. As it ended, Meriona looked at her co-conspirators, dotted with red welts, and noticed they were as shocked as she was by the rough and strange treatment. Then she noticed a small sea of coins that washed across the floor of the wagon. “Oi!” she called to one of the guards as they continued down the road. “Who keeps all this?!” she asked.

The peacekeeper shook his head. “It is bad luck for any but the accused to take that coin. Indeed, it is your reward for providing the day's entertainment,” he told them.

Meriona's eyes were wide as she wondered at the wealth that swam about her. “I've never seen such a coin,” she said as she held up a steel bit. “What is it worth?”

“It is ten to one from that to the large, then it is ten large to one copper bit,” the peacekeeper informed. “I should imagine all of this about you is enough for a few nights lodging and food. Indeed, if you are frugal and the children were generous, it may see you all the way back to Ebertin.”

The wagon continued for hours, back down the pass and to the edge of the lake. This was the border. Once there,, Meriona, Bruck, and Naiphan were allowed to gather all the steel coin, which was heavy indeed. The guards had several cloth sacks for them, so the accused had something to carry the mass of coins. The peacekeepers stood and watched as Meriona and her throat-cutters continued down the road and finally passed out of view with their burden of steel about them.

~!@#$%^&*()_+ 16.2 +_)(*&^%$#@!~

"So that's it?" Celesi asked. "That's the last we shall see of them?"

"Quite likely," Scurra shrugged. "The steel coin marks them as criminal. Even among the Pulbouge, they'll be watched as long as they spend it—and they have nothing else. If they return, if they are caught, they will be sent to the mines to dig coal, or to the swamps to harvest peat. If they refuse to stay out of Jindleyak lands, they are welcome to toil for the betterment of our nation," she noted.

"When do you hang a man?" Wenifas asked, her eyes cruel.

"Winnie!" Celesi admonished her friend, then turned to Scurra, curious to know. “Do you ever hang a man?”

“We do not take a man’s life simply because he threatens us,” Scurra shook her head. “If they’d managed to do something, if they’d managed to do some real harm, there might be a reason to hang them. But these three did little besides get themselves captured, all that they had was taken, and they were banished. Is this not enough?"

"At Camp Calderhal, their were two or three hangings a week. It was not uncommon to see someone hanged for spitting on the wrong man,” Wenifas revealed.

“That does not sound fair to me,” Celesi noted.

Scurra shook her head. "We are not like that. You will see. You are now among a free and loving people. These lands are like few other,” she said proudly.

“What of your rulers?” Celesi asked. “Your governors? Are they not given greater protections? If one commits a crime against them, does one not suffer more?”

Scurra shook her head. “You are among the truly free. There are few rules among us, and they apply to all of every station. We are not like other nations, with many laws for the many, and few laws for the few. Such hierarchies breed contempt and hostility. In Minist, the rich may rule and have more than their fair share—but they sleep with one eye open because they cannot trust those they subject. You can ask the duke, for it is true of the kingdom too—only less so, for their laws are not quite as onerous. On the other hand, all are equal in the eyes of Jindleyak law, because equality breeds cooperation and community. If everyone is prosperous, then few envy their brother.”

Celesi's face furrowed as she considered this. “So there are no greater protections for great and honored men?”

“There are natural protections,” Scurra smiled. “If you injure a great man among the Jindleyak, his sons, brothers, and friends will hound you to the ends of the earth. If you are truly great, your friends, family, and neighbors are all the protection you could ever want—and if you do not have the respect of your friends, family, and neighbors, then how can you call yourself great?” Scurra shook her head. “There is no need to codify such things and pretend that the words of man's hand come from the lips of the gods. We know the proper way of things, and we keep them.”

Celesi nodded. “But how do you counter chance? How do you make life fair?”

“Who are we to pretend we can make life fair?” Scurra shook her head. “One day fortune favors a man and dooms another, and the next day their roles are reversed. Our people understand that we are all subject to the whims of fate. We do not pretend to know the will of the gods, and we certainly do not pass judgement on unknowable things. If we have limits, then we work to overcome them, for that is the path to greatness. We are not a people that cares for equality, for fairness, as both lead to mediocrity. Instead, we want opulence, adventure, and splendor! We strive to be as great as we can be, and do not mourn our fates! Is that not noble?! We do not conform to some base and low equality, that the rich and powerful shall never share. Instead, we have abundance, which leads to generosity, which leads to community.”

“Aye, it is noble,” Celesi beamed as she marveled at Scurra's eloquence and the goodness of the Jindleyak people. Although their ways were foreign, she longed to understand them, that she might be one of them. Indeed, it was all very exciting for the former apprentice! She'd marry Toar, and they'd settle and raise their babies among these new friends. Maybe she'd keep in contact with the duke and maybe visit his princely estates, perhaps on her honeymoon. But these were her people now.

“And where do you find such jurors?” Wenifas returned them to the subject of the trial. “Considering that only two of them seemed very passionate about the verdict at all—and those two violently so—I was surprised by such an even-handed judgement.”

Scurra laughed. “We take the theater of a good trial very seriously—as you can tell by the size of the crowd. But you see, it is largely theater. The public jurors, those with the robes and hats, are the least among us, and they give us the extremes of our arguments in a showy and self important manner. You see, in the crowd are the real judges, always whispering its subtle councils, and calling for a measured resolution. Mob rule isn't such a bad thing when the mob is educated and civilized. In the end, it comes down to general consensus. Solutions are proposed and counter proposed throughout the trial, then agreed upon as the luncheon continues. In the end, it is the ponderous council of the well informed that decides these things. Those that are best respected, appreciated, and most loved are the ones that truly decide; while the others scoff, and call, and sing about oil, so they might have a good show—but that is it for most of them. It is just a show. You see, the jurors of the box are found in the streets. They are not wanderers, or simple men of simple ways. Instead, they are the ditch-dwellers—those among us that refuse to help themselves. These fools bluster and make a scene to intimidate and confuse the guilty."

“The guilty?” Wenifas eyed her. “It confused and intimidated me!” she revealed.

“That's because you're not expecting it," Scurra smiled. “A little pressure usually reveals a truer version of ourselves. It makes spotting an honest man caught in the crosshairs of civic justice that much easier. And days like this also allow the town a golden opportunity to shower a bit of love on the lowest of the low—especially the guilty. That is why we dress them up, feed them good food, and beg their opinion. All of them: family, friends, neighbors, strangers, the jurors, the peacekeepers, the accused—they all mix and share their opinions—if they are only willing. Our theory is that every trial is a condemnation of us all. Crime would not occur if we were better, if we were more vigilant. Not that we ever expect to be without crime. Just as there is no perfect individual, there is no perfect society.”

Wenifas nodded her head. “I like that,” she admitted. “I like it here. These houses are so large and rich, yet they grow fruits and vegetables in their yards,” she noted. “Some even have livestock.”

Scurra turned to the priestess, confused. “Are chickens and vegetables so very strange to you?”

“No,” Wenifas shook her head. “But these people all seem so fine and opulent. They appear rich, certainly rich enough that they need not grow their own food.”

This statement only added to Scurra's confusion. “And why should they not grow their own food?”

“The Baradha never grow their own food,” Wenifas informed. “Only the poor pull food from the dirt, if they are lucky enough to have a yard. The rich are rich enough that they can purchase all that they eat. They leave the farming to lesser men.”

Scurra sighed. “Growing an abundance of food is one of the ways that makes us rich, so we can all afford such large and wonderful houses. But that is just another difference between Jindleyak and other peoples. We do not have poor to be suppressed and dominated. Instead, we are all rich, and we all do things to make ourselves richer. Besides, food mostly grows itself, if you know how to keep it; and the fresher it is, the better it tastes.”

Celesi frowned, “Yet you say those jurors are homeless. How can you pretend to be part of such a utopia when you too suffer homelessness?”

“There are always a few that refuse to better themselves or contribute in any real way,” Scurra said. “Even among our people there are genuine troublemakers. A few even have a fair deal of power and influence, but much of Jindleyak lands are governed quite to my liking.”

“Andrus says Hearthstone is the greatest city in the world,” Celesi noted. “Is it truly so grand?”

“Ah, the big city,” Scurra beamed, though she shook her head. “Crowd that many people together, and you will always have troubles. For me it is all about the country; the towns and villages. Yet, Hearthstone is like nothing else you've ever seen. In all the world, there has never been another place like it—not even in Old Tallia—before it was corrupted and finally devoured,” Scurra said. “Ah, but you shall see,” she nodded. “Soon, you shall see.”