Monday, 07 July 2008

• New Story

  I started working on a new story yesterday.  Chapter One is done, and I thought I'd post it.   I'd be interested to know what you think.  But feel free to leave me a comment even if you don't feel like reading the whole thing... I'm always happy to hear from my friends. 

  Chapter One:
  

  He stood before the judge, face white and eyes filled with an ocean of agony.

   

  “You are guilty,” concluded his accuser, quietly but firmly, with the assurance of one who knows that he is right.  Damian looked at the judge as if to remind him of the severity of the offense.  The judge returned his gaze levelly.  He had not forgotten.  He could hardly have forgotten, when it was a murder trial for the death of his own son.  His son – his only son, whom he had watched grow from a child to a man.  And then he had seen him as he died.

   

  Damian, who was bringing the charge, saw all these thoughts passing through the eyes of the judge.  There was no doubt in his mind that the accused was guilty.

   

  The prisoner also knew of his guilt.  He was haunted by it and stood in terror of the judge before whom he stood.  He knew that if he had been innocent, the judge would have known it.  But he was not. He was fully guilty.

   

  Everyone fell silent as they waited for the verdict of the judge.

   

  Finally, he spoke.  “It is true that this man killed.  There is a litany of other charges against him as well.  He was abusive, of substances and people and creatures.  He was callous.  He seduced and stole the wives of other men.  He dishonored those in authority.  He lied maliciously to harm those who he hated.  He stole and coveted.”

   

  The prosecutor could not help smiling.  These additional charges, if they could be proved, would surely condemn the prisoner.

   

  “How do you plead?” the judge asked the accused.

   

  “Guilty, your honor,” he replied, not daring to even look up.

   

  The judge nodded.  “The evidence that you committed all these crimes is plentiful.” 

   

  The accuser allowed his smile to broaden slightly.

   

  “In fact,” continued the judge, “I saw him commit all of these crimes.”

   

  Something in the tone of his voice startled Damian, and he released his smile, but his voice was smooth.  “Then, your honor, there can be no question as to the verdict.”

   

  “Still,” said the judge, “is there anyone who would defend this man?”

   

  Andrew scanned the handful of people sitting in the vast chamber.  His parents, his older brother, his former girlfriend.  Vaguely, he recognized a few more people – a young man who stocked the shelves at a grocery store where he had frequently shopped, a waitress from the coffee shop which he had breakfast in several mornings a week.  Hopelessly, Andrew looked at each of them.  His ex-girlfriend met his eyes with a burning hatred, his parents turned away.  They were ashamed to admit that he was their son.  The stocker met his eyes with an open curiosity and Andrew noticed for the first time that the teenager seemed to be copying his style of dress.  He tried to remember if he had ever spoken to him, and couldn’t.  The waitress looked bored.  Again, silence filled the court.

   

  The judge sighed and shook his head.  “If there is no one who will offer even a word of defense on behalf of the accused –”

   

  He broke off as Andrew’s brother Peter stood up.  “Your Honor?”

   

  “Yes?” acknowledged the judge.

   

  “Your Honor, I would beg you to be lenient.”

   

  “That is very kind of you, Peter,” the judge said.  Andrew wondered in passing if his brother and the judge were friends.  “Do you have any reason why he does not deserve a painful, shameful, death?  Death is the penalty for any of the crimes which he has committed, let alone all of them.”

   

  Peter shook his head.  “There is nothing which I can offer in his defense, your Honor.  I know that he is guilty.”

   

  “Yes,” said the judge simply.  “Are there any who would accuse him?”

   

  There was an outcry as all the voices except that of Peter began to speak.  There was a press outside the doors and a flood of people poured into the court, and one by one they stated their accusations against Andrew.  He cringed, defenseless.

   

  After – hours? years? everyone with a complaint had gone through the court.  The judge turned to Andrew again.  “Is it true?” he asked.

   

  Filled with shame, Andrew nodded.  “It is all as they say, your Honor.”  He drew a deep, shaky breath.  “There is more, too, than what they have told you.”

   

  “I know,” said the judge.  He smiled, but his smile was not unkind.  “I know everything about you, Andrew.  I saw you commit all the crimes which you have been accused of, so I know the truth of their accusations.” 

   

  Andrew hung his head.  There was nothing which he could say to defend himself. 

   

  Damian, the accuser, looked at the judge again, impatient to hear the verdict pronounced and made final.  But the judge was not looking at him.  Instead, he was looking towards the back of the courtroom.  Only a few people had cared to remain after all the testimonies had been given, and one of these was getting to his feet.

   

  Andrew did not recall having seen him in the court before, but now he wondered how he could have ever missed this man.  Damian also had looked up sharply and all the color drained from his face.  He made an odd little gasping sounds, but no one seemed to notice.

   

  “May I speak?” asked the man, moving towards where the judge sat.  Something about him made Andrew want to fall on his face, to crawl under a table and hide.

   

  “Of course,” said the judge.

   

  The man looked oddly familiar, but this only terrified Andrew all the more.  He mounted the dais and seated himself in a chair to the judge’s right.  He leaned forward, looking at Andrew with an intent compassion.  “I shall pronounce the verdict,” he said, and Andrew saw that he also wore the raiment of a judge.  “All the charges brought against this man are true.  He stole and killed, raped and lied.  But the guilt for these crimes is not his.”

   

  Damian, if possible, blanched even whiter.  “Y-your Honor,” he said, with a nervous anger.  “There is another fact which I wish to bring to light as it may have some bearing on this case.”

   

  “Yes?” asked the man, leaning back and steepling his fingers to listen.

   

  “I have some small claim on this man, Andrew.  I have consented to this trial only b-because I am convinced of his guilt and wanted to see justice done.”

   

  The young man – Andrew realized, for some reason, that he must be the prince – threw his head back and laughed.  When he finally stopped laughing, he wiped his eyes and looked at Damian.  He was still smiling as he spoke, a vibrantly joyous smile.  “Oh, Damian, Damian.  Is that the best argument that you have to offer to me?  Did you truly imagine that I do not know the years which Andrew spent in your service?  Do you not trust me to be the arbiter of justice?”

   

  Damian smiled uneasily.

   

  The prince’s voice lowered, becoming more grave.  “I am indeed familiar with the relationship of the accused to you.  He has been in your service for many years now – in fact, his whole life.  Why, we might even say that he has been your slave.  Is that not right?”

   

  “Yes,” muttered Damian unwillingly.  “But it’s not as if he seemed discontent…”

   

  The prince fixed his piercing eyes on Damian and looked at him silently for a moment.  “Damian, don’t lie to me.  You never gave him an option.  Rather, you taught him to hate me and my kingdom.  He was born into slavery in your household.”

   

  A sour look rested on Damian’s face, but he made no response.

   

  “Oh no Damian.  I know your tricks, your wiles,” continued the prince softly.  “And,” he added, “before you take the trouble to put on your self-righteous act and pretend that you’ve been deeply offended, I will remind you of something:  You belong to me, with all that is yours.  For reasons of my own, I have allowed you some temporary power in Eön, yet Eön is only the smallest fragment of what is ultimately my full dominion.”

   

  “Then, if it is so small and insignificant, why should you trouble yourself with it at all?  Why let yourself be humiliated by such small-minded rabble?  Why not leave Eön under my control and you can employ yourself in other, more profitable parts of your kingdom?”

   

  The ghost of a smile crossed the prince’s lips.  “Damian, your tongue is as smooth as ever.  And as twisted.  I said that Eön was small; I did not ever say that it was insignificant.  To the contrary, it is my jewel; small, precious, and worth a great price.  What would be a dreadful waste would be for me to argue against your empty and impotent, invented arguments.  You would do very well to remember and consider that your very existence totally depends on my good pleasure.” 

   

  He turned his gaze from the silenced Damian back to Andrew.  “And now for the verdict.”

   

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