Category Archives: Stability

When The War Comes, Will We Have Anyone To Send ? #Blog Battle : June Unaware

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Watching

Foreword: Sometimes a character in a short story will not slip back into the From Whence They Came. Their back story, forward stories stay around, an aura of possibilities. This is one such. For those who have not read of the previous accounts here are the links:

The Day When The Stationery Was No Longer Stationary – #Blog Battle – March  Miscellanarian

Revisit, Review, Revise. #Blog Battle : May –Extract

And here is the latest:

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The dark boat slipped through the still waters of the clouded night, propelled by a small black sail, making landfall in a small cove. The four men were swift and light-footed, making their way to the house slipping over the wall, and expertly mastering the locks. In this deep part of the night most were asleep. The guard silenced.

Her eyes snapped open. People in the room. This was the kidnap, and she’d been told a girl should always remain calm. She sat up, sheet to her chin. She assumed the one putting a finger to his lips was the leader, a tall man, very quiet. By the lack of any sound or unnecessary effort, she assumed these were professionals. They allowed her to put a coat on, and even gather some clothing. Confident too.

Down to the beach and the craft, she was helped into the boat.  They were out to sea and not long in reaching the equally dark small ship. After being assisted on board, she was escorted to a small cabin. Then her rather comfortable gag was removed. No one had and even then spoke to her. She was left; with a jug of water, also a small loaf of bread. There was even a reasonable bunk. This was all very civilised. Murmurings going on, but no unnecessary sounds. All very efficient. The door would be locked to a high standard.

Captain Volper gave out the next draft of orders thus The Marlin turned to make a prompt exit from the region. Everything had, thus far gone very well. He would only truly relax when they made harbour and the captive was handed over to the officers of the Knights’ Commander.

He was not surprised when his bosun an experienced man he had worked with these two years disturbed his sleep. This time he had the air of one, instructing

‘We have something interesting Captain,’ the man said,

‘Our guest? What sort of Interesting?’

‘She opened cabin porthole,’

‘She tried to slip out? Must be a good swimmer,’

‘Wasn’t her intention. Meyga on sentry saw the glimmer of a mirror. She’s watching us watching her,’

‘Ask Weatherman Dolenger here,’

Weatherman was the watch-name. Seemingly a crew member with a gift for reading subtle changes in weather. The name to keep excessive religious types away from someone gifted with Ethereal senses. Like all in his trade, Dolenger was quiet, careful not to draw attention to himself, and vigilant.

‘Watch do you reckon Weatherman?’ Volper asked.

‘She’s lying low Captain. She’s either cautious or skilled in some Ethereal thing. Not any merchant’s pretty, precious daughter,’

‘I wish the Knights’ Commander office would keep us fully appraised of matters. Triple the watch on her cabin, lower a boat and keep vigilance there. Weatherman keep vigilant. We’ll wait until dawn,’

Definitely not ordinary pirates.

Satisfied as only someone in her role could feel with that conclusion she hauled the rudimentary pillow and sheet to the door. With a pillow behind her and sheet over her she positioned herself against the door as comfy as possible as a human barrier could be, twisted the ring on her right third finger, and settled down to wait.

See what dawn would bring.

Volper mused on his Weatherman’s latest opinion there was an aura of calculation about the woman.

‘We’ll assume she’s more than a decoy for Thelesima, youngest daughter of the Merchant Lord Strambos,’ Volper said to his bosun ‘And since it’s sun up. Let’s see if she’s willing to talk,’

‘Yes. Let’s’ the bosun said.

Volper was not have been surprised by two crew scowling at the door, he was puzzled though.

‘She’s barricaded herself in,’ one said ‘ Must be sitting against the door. Says she wants to speak with you,’’

He looked to his Weatherman, who was frowning at the door. Oh, trouble.

‘Bosun. The Marlin is yours for the present,’ the man nodded and left, peering at the door.

‘There’s something stormy in there Captain,’

‘Thank you, Weatherman. Let’s find out then if it’s navigable,’ he was all business to the door ‘ This is Captain Volper. What do you require? And your name would be useful,’

Some said she took risks with too unpredictable outcomes. She reasoned conflict relied on such when you were out here, or there, relying on yourself.

‘Principal Lieutenant Zwanglos of the LifeGuard,’ she announced in her official voice ‘Your cautious actions indicate you have a level of discipline and are acting on orders. Identify your chain of command,’

Her impulse had been to voice a pithier more natural

‘LifeGuard. We wanna know wot yer up to sunshine,’

But, sometimes you just had to sound official.

Volper stifled down his surprise. A professional thief or adventurer with a quirky manner and gift of The Sales Talk acting on a commission would have been expected. The LifeGuard though, on the very flexible southern borders of the Centrus Sea? He told himself, he had a distinct tactical advantage. And his bosun was paying rapt attention.

‘We are marines of the Knights of The Lord God’s Vigilance and are about the task of keeping the imperial coastline safe for honest merchants and perilous to those of ill-intent,’ sometimes using the official statement was easier than trying to explain details

There was a distinct snort from the other side of the door. The voice’s accent hardened, the tone dismissive.

‘Well, you’re going about it in a fribbin’ peculiar way. Running off with merchants’ family members. That’s not conducive to Imperial Stability,’

‘We have information which indicates there is a cartel,’

‘Not one we’re aware of that is a threat to Stability,’

He paused to fume. LifeGuard and their Stability. The biggest crook in Humanity could sit on the Imperial throne, as long as they kept things ‘Stable’. His pause had allowed her to continue.

‘Now I know wot’s wot…..’

‘Wot’s wot’…Oh, she’s an elidian, they are the biggest crooks. Makes sense now.

‘I feel it fayre to point out I’ve put out a marker on your craft, and my commanders know just where you are. If my personal transmission comes to an abrupt end, so shall your craft. Give me a little boat I’ll row back. Take this to your Knights as a warning,’

The Weatherman twitched.

‘There have been tales about The LifeGuard’s long reach Captain. If she threatens to have us sunk. Don’t dismiss it,’ he looked skywards.

Volper was certainly not. Yet he was senior here. He navigated on.

‘All we are doing,’ he said with great restraint ‘Is requiring certain Merchants to cease activities detrimental to the commercial and moral integrity of the coastal regions. It may seem rough to kidnap but I can assure you these family members are kept in respectable comfort. It had been judged the only way to reach out for dialogue,’

There was a pause, the door opened enough for one hand to appear, slender rings on the left index, middle, and third ginger twinkling.

‘The authority and ability,’ she announced.

The Weatherman tugged his Captain’s sleeve.

‘Those rings. Ethereal. They whisper,’

From his years of service, Volper did not think it was likely that the Knights or their final authority The Ecclesiastes would have been so blind to the LifeGuard’s constant and invasive observations of all aspects Imperial. Yet he had not been warned of this likelihood of  Decoy, or Ambush to use as a threat.

‘Principal Lieutenant Zwanglos. If you were to step outside. We can discuss this. I respect your potential. You should therefore respect my situation,’

There was a pause, then the door opened. The dress had been replaced by leggings and light shirt, a knife on a slender belt, and a leg of the chair tucked in as a cudgel. Volper thought her all too well prepared. And warned?

‘As you can see,’ she began then frowned, looking down at the rings, at the same time The Weatherman drawled out one swear word. The pair exchanged sudden knowing looks.

‘Better get the mechanical engines going Captain,’ he warned.

‘Zig-zag course,’ she added, then cursing, in disbelief at the rings, raised her hand to her mouth calling out

‘I have not enacted. I have not enacted. Withhold. Withhold,’

The Weatherman once more regarded the sky.

‘Oh yes. Storm’s a’coming,’

He said not to his Captain but to her.

The LifeGuard continued her enraged converse. Volper’s crew alert to all threats the Centrus could swiftly have the engine working while manoeuvring unpredictably. As Zwanglos suddenly felt a small object, probably stale bread strike her scalp, swinging round she saw the bosun leaning over the quarter-deck rail, looking sharp with realisation.

‘Hoi!’ he called his accent suddenly clear elidian ‘You’re the one wot’s stitched up l’tenant. You bin set up good ‘n proper,’

‘Me?’ she called back, though the surprise was quickly replaced by anguished understanding, causing her to pull in savage determination at the rings, uncaring of the skin being ripped off in the process.

‘Counting down from two hundred?’ she demanded of The Weatherman as she threw the rings into the sea.

‘Give or take fifty,’ he said after a glance to the sky.

Shrugging off a staying hand as she grabbed the port side of the weaving craft, Zwanglos turned back to Volper, wry bitterness contorting her features.

‘Take wot you’ve seen an’ heard. Use it spare yer crew an’ yerself. Now turn your ship or boat or wotnot away from me. I was not aware dammit,’ and dived into the water, vanishing from sight.

‘Hundred and fifty Captain,’ warned the Weatherman.

The bosun stared out at the last sighting of the girl

With sail and engine at full use, the craft skimmed away.

‘Heads down and cover your eyes,’ called out The Weatherman.

There came a thin split in the sky, a long narrow yellow brightness tormented a small locality of the sea into a place of steam and violent bubbling as high as the Marlin’s sail, causing waves to circle out for enough distance for some to slap against the stern, making the craft to buck enough to for all to fear it would near topple over.

And then all was still.

Opinion was divided on whether the fate might have been slit in two, blown into bits, or set a’ blaze from stern to bow. Everyone agreed they would not have survived.

‘What do we do now Captain?’ was the next thing most asked.

Volper had the course set to their home port, concluded the whole crew needed to hear whatever the bosun had to say to explain his warning to the girl. His words came slow and thoughtful, still trying to make explainable sense. His accent was quite different, again, something of the far north, where seas were cold and troubled grey.

‘In daylight, description matched. One who had been in The Ecclesiastes’ ranks. Talented but unpopular. Controversial, maybe heretical. Then she skipped to the LifeGuard. There are games within games being played. In the Ecclesiastes, there was deal with parts of the LifeGuard and she was the price,’ he sighed ‘We were bait. She must have thought she was just the messenger, not the catch, until,’ he nodded to the Weatherman ‘She got a storm warning,’

‘And gave her life for us,’ said Volper.

‘All except me,’ said the bosun ‘I fell overboard, never seen again. I leave it up to you merry lads to work out the details. I have other work to do. Find out who are doing deals with The LifeGuard and why. My reason for being here in the first place. Games within Games,’

Somewhere, out at sea. Floating on an Ethereal. Pained and scared. But still angry enough to be alive.

She was vaguely aware of another swift slender craft approaching, bemused at more decent treatment as she was carefully hauled on board.

‘Thank you,’ she rasped. ‘Whoever you are,’

‘Work to be done Zwanglos,’

A bottle touched her lips, hands gently held her head as she drank.

As the pain slipped away and sleep called to her she managed one last message.

‘I was unaware,’

One other thought.

‘And unaware now,’

A Responsible Duty and A Correct Due Process – #Blog Battle : April – Jury

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justicejudgescouncil-of-judgeswoodcutby-hans-burgkmair1473-153116th-FF6P0R

 

To be chosen for jury service in the prominent town of Hastley indicated reaching trustworthy and acceptable social state. For fairness your name was drawn forth from an ornate box, thus reducing repetition. Payments made in lieu of lost earning time, and the meals provided ensuring not much sacrifice was involved. There was the right to respectfully question any official of the court at certain interludes, just for clarification, of course. A socially valuable right nonetheless.

The group of ten seated in the court were all experienced at the role, which was of relief to the judge and his two officials as direction was not needed. This was something of an important case, an alleged unprovoked drunken assault on a noble’s official by an inhabitant of an outlying village. Had the victim been about their duties at the village then the case would have been straightforward but this had taken place in a tavern, always places of volatility. The general opinion amongst the comfortably off in the town was that villagers were becoming  troublesome and thus blame must lay with the person charged. Yet, the official consensus was there must be a trial so there could be no dispute over the punishment.

 

The local Prosecutor had been called away on urgent personal business and it had been source of much discussion that someone of the Prince’s own Office of Judiciary was sent to take his place. The outlying villages’ inhabitants had been disruptive for too long and this representative’s deployment was obviously a most astute move of the Prince’s. Someone who was here to impart princely justice. Well, that would send another signal to the bothersome rurales to keep in line.

 

The fellow and his two escorts on arrival were polite enough albeit it in a slightly detached way, but as everyone said, folk on Princely business of importance could not afford affability. When the proceedings opened he deported himself with all the serious professionalism expected of those in this rank. It was noted, for instance he had been the first in the court, seated reading his notes, occasionally looking up as jurors came in and took their oaths, nodding respectfully to the Appointee for The Defence, studying the audience including the few rurals allowed in and naturally standing as the judge entered. He was all business, and the jurors waited with some anticipation. Surbule the absentee Prosecutor was unexciting  in his speech and mode of questioning, often a verdict was brought swiftly to free themselves from the tedium he had brought to the proceedings, even in murder cases.

 

The accused was as expected nervous, also untidy and in the usual the ragged rural clothing. It was noted he already looked bitterly chastened. Whereas the assaulted official who dressed as befitted a court maintained an air of quiet dignity and diffidence.     

 

The jurors could not help but feel an air of anticipation, to see how this Prosecutor  performed. They noted how he patiently waited, quietly observing all the preliminaries; of the accused’s details, those of the charge and the request of how he pleaded, which was a stammering ‘Not Guilty’. The Prosecutor arose, surveyed the entire personnel assembled and began. The jurors were not to be disappointed.

He spoke in measured, authoritative, economical tones, a word seeming to hold as much value and weight as ten. He established beyond measure that the accused had been somewhat drunk, thus colliding and knocking to the floor the official. He made it clear there was no demonstrable display of apology. With condemnable efficiency he had the man admit there was a certain animosity held within the surrounding villages to both town and noble, all previous incidents dealt within this court.  Thus the act was one of violence through local disagreement and unjustified. What the jurors observed as noteworthy was at no time did The Prosecutor assail the accused’s personal character, not even raising his voice to harangue the man. It was all very civilised and dignified.  None of the rurals could complain.

He was very solicitous of the official. Simply asked for his account of the events. Asked if he knew the accused personally. Had the official any direct dealings with any member of the man’s family? No the official did not. Had he at any time felt the animosity displayed by the villagers might have been a threat to his safety? The man replied, it might have been so. The Prosecutor thanked him.

Then in a brief summary said the evidence showed the accused under the influence of drink had demonstrated incaution towards authority which had led to a forceful physical act. He addressed the jury as a group. He said they should consider these facts, and the background to the local issues. He asked them to use their local judgement wisely. For had not an altercation taken place? Where might that lead if left unattended to?

They thought it a masterful display of understatement.    

Against this the young, inexperienced, local Appointee for the Defence stumbled through the same procedure as his opposite and more commanding number. All the while glancing nervously about. He managed to establish the same facts. He mused briefly that it might have been an accident, while staring to his opposite number not the jury or the judge, in an almost appealing manner, as if for help. The jury noticed the Prosecutor had quite the air of sorrow for the young fellow, such was the weakness of his attempt to dilute the facts of the case. Everyone on the jury knew him, he was a nice lad of good family…..But….

 

The jury thought the whole matter was being done with the utmost efficacy and brevity. The proceedings had started at morningtide and had been completed in time for luncheon. They partook of this first, because naturally you could not reach a verdict on an empty stomach, there might be an error of justice. Thus at the commencement of afternoontide they were comfortable and ready to discuss the matter at hand. The presence of one of the Prince’s own Prosecutors lent to the assemblage a feeling of sobriety and duty, no time to reflect on the comfort of the meal. Even at the risk of slight indigestion they had to emulate the Prosecutor, swift, efficient. There was a discussion of the facts as presented by the Prosecutor, to this was applied the local knowledge. There was debate as to whether the accused was guilty of Intentional Assault or Negligence By Malice Aforethought. They thought it only right to dwell on this matter, being men of experience they were fully cognisant of the legal implications, the former being the more serious act as it displayed a certain volatility which might erupt at any time. And those rurals needed to be taught a lesson.

Just before fold of afternoon they announced they had reached their verdict. Their spokesman declared in sombre tones they had found the accused guilty of Intentional Assault, but with an air of some leniency the recommendation was not imprisonment but a fine-deterrent. The judge announced he could see no reason to ask the jury to reconsider, and the matter was settled. The accused paled and slumped. His Appointee somewhat deflated but resigned to events thanked the judge and jury for their leniency and swiftly left his client to his fate.   

 

As was the custom, the jurors waited to be officially dismissed and thanked by the judge. He seemed delayed but the Prosecutor approached them, and they wondered was compliments he might impart. His two assistants, or escorts waited at the door

‘Thank you gentlemen,’ he began which put them at their ease ‘If you would not mind being seated, there are matters I would like to discuss,’

The reaction was divided, interest, anticipation of compliments. And some unease. They sat though. One juror could not but help look at the two by the door, previously they had been barely noticeable. The Prosecutor continued.

‘This was a most swift and easy case to manage. According to court records this is common in Hastley, three days maximum, this case was all over before the Fold,’

The unease spread, one juror had the unpleasant sensation of flitting empathy with the accused. The Prosecutor continued, referring to his notes.

‘No representations made by any of you for clarification of any of my statements. Particularly when I was leading the victim to reply as I would have wished. He was very pliant. Nor have I encountered a more submissive accused. Mind you, if I had been in his situation with such an Appointee for The Defence I might have given up too. The lad is of a local family is he not? One reliant on the goodwill of the society of the town for its custom, he for his career,’ The Prosecutor sniffed ‘Such as it is. The judge you might have noticed was passive to the point of somnambulism. The whole question of accidental, albeit ill-tempered collision was not even touched upon, even though I left opportunities,’ by now the jury was as one agitated, more than one looked to the door, one of the assistants now looked quite military in his stance. ‘And your time spent deliberating was indeed very, very swift,’

Some mouths worked, and excuses or defences were forming but the very slow judgemental shake of The Prosecutor’s head stilled the words. When he turned to the middle-aged, now frowning assistant, there was a positive huddling of the jury.

‘Captain,’ The Prosecutor said to the man, by way of deferential invitation and stood to one side. ‘Detrant of the Imperial LifeGuard,’ he added.

LifeGuard they all thought ?The fellow was in civilian clothes?  Unease turning to fear.

When he spoke it was in a soft, unhurried voice.

‘Thank you Prosecutor for you assistance, guidance and summary,’ and drawing up a chair he sat facing them, closely ‘Now as we know biased court proceedings are regrettably common occurrences, Justice cannot be everywhere, sadly. Some however warrant attention. Particularly in locations of sensitivity. As you know there is ill-feeling within the rural locality. This if given enough fuel would lead to instability and of course it is the duty of every citizen of the empire to preserve, Stability,’

Mouths were dry, hands in counterpoint clammy. Heresy, Whychery and Treachery were bad enough charges. But far worse was Detrimental to Imperial Stability and by The LifeGuard. Terror stilled their voices.

‘As local men of character and standing, it would be expected you would be holdened to this, and wary of any precipitate act which could inflame an already troubled situation between Town and Country,’ now he shook his head ‘And this trial’s proceedings could be seen as precipitate’ he shrugged ‘In addition to blatantly biased,’ he nodded to the Prosecutor ‘As this Official of the Prince has demonstrated,’

At this stage there might have been some outbursts of splutterings, save the jury had noticed the other man at the door, now stood with loaded crossbow, and a sword at his side. Never mind the ‘How’

‘You are fortunate the Prince’s Offices have been alert and observant to certain mischiefs and their authors, your Prince values his loyalty to the Empire. There is evidence of intention to use the bias of this court to ferment violence which parties would take advantage. The loss of the accused’s slender property through this fine being the possible match to the pyre,’

Three other men entered behind the one at the door, they were armed too, the ‘Captain’ continued in his calm voice.

‘You will be questioned gentlemen, at some length to ascertain the depth of your involvement, either by intent, incompetence or simple prejudice. Thank you Prosecutor,’

 

The Prosecutor left, quickly. His part in these proceedings was complete. It was not for him to ask any more. Just wait instructions.

In time he might well be prosecuting these men. Or the judge. Or anyone here.

Stability was the final jury. Stay on its side.