laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

The magistrate looked up as his assistant knocked and entered his office.

"M'lord, Father George is here to see you."

"Trevor, I'm really not in the mood. Does it have to be right now?"

"I believe so, sir. He has two militiamen with him and a boy in custody."

The magistrate sighed heavily, then nodded to his assistant with a look of frustrated resignation. He cleared his desk, putting the documents into a drawer as the four individuals entered the room. The boy was tall, but looked young, probably nine or ten years old. His unkempt, red hair looked like it hadn't been combed in days. He looked into the boy's green eyes and was surprised by the fire that met his gaze. Far from being cowed by this experience, the lad seemed to grow stronger and more resolved the longer the magistrate attempted to read something from him. He turned instead to the priest of Arhus, over-satisfied in his self-importance and his meals.

"Good afternoon, George. How may I help you today? Off rounding up those that went truant from class today, are you?  Or is this the Roadway Renegade, that he requires two armed guards?"

At the name of the local, infamous highwayman, Father George stiffened, but managed to maintain his smile.  "Not at all, Kevin. This one's assault and battery, disturbing the peace, and blasphemy. And I do wish you would address me properly when others are present."

"The blasphemy charge I'll leave to you; you can excommunicate him later without my approval. My job is to uphold the law, not the doctrines of the church." As Father George opened his mouth to protest, the magistrate added, "why don't you just tell me what happened?" He gestured for the two militiamen to depart, then leaned back in his chair to listen.

Dillon listened as Father George told the tale again of their encounter in front of the church earlier that day. It was amazing to him how the priest could embellish the story a little more every time he told it, making himself sound ever more courteous, righteous, and innocent, and Dillon ever more sinister, disrespectful, and dangerous.

"At the rate he's going," Dillon thought, "by the time the whole thing goes to trial, I'll have murdered half the militia when they came to arrest me. Assuming I get a trial."

As Father George finished his testimony, the magistrate sat up and rested his arms upon the large, oak desk in front of him. "Alright, son. Now how about you tell me what happened from your perspective."

Dillon was briefly at a complete loss for words. He hadn't expected the magistrate to be at all interested in a child's point of view, yet here he was, asking to hear Dillon's side of the story. He regained his composure and began to tell the story from his side. When he finished, the magistrate looked back up at Father George.

"That's an incredible story you have there, Father."

"Yes, isn't it?  Of course, his disrespect for me and the church are not what truly concern me, but rather his disregard for the public’s safety and laws.  I don't know how this rascal has escaped your notice for so long."

"No, really, Father. It's incredible. As in, it lacks credibility."

"What? Now, see here!"

"No, you see here," Kevin continued. "You want me to charge this young lad with two crimes, one major, but it sounds to me as if you were meddling in his affairs and taking his property."

"I was acting in the best interest of the community. We can't have boys running amok, wielding swords."

"You mean like those boys you train at the church?"

"That's completely different. Besides, you heard it yourself in his own testimony - he attacked me."

"Only because you wouldn't give back his property."

"So now you're advocating vigilantism?"

Kevin sighed. As much as he disliked this new priest, he had a point. He turned back to the boy. "What's your name, son?"

"Dillon.  Dillon Kandliss."

"Kandliss? The chandler's son?"

Dillon nodded.

"I'm real sorry about your folks, Dillon. And about the closing of your family's business. But Father George is right about how we go about upholding the law. We can't have people going off and taking the law into their own hands, no matter how right they may be. The right thing to do was to get the militia and resolve the situation that way."

"But then I would have missed meeting the buyer of the sword!"

"I'm sorry, son, that's the law. The law has to come before profit." Kevin looked up to meet Father George's smug gaze. "Father, I don't see any need for this to go to trial. I think we can work this out."

"The penalty for battery is severe, Magistrate. Especially when committed against a member of the church. I've seen people drawn and quartered for attacks against church officials."

"Yes, Father, but not when the attack was provoked by that same official."

"I'm confident that the baron will see things differently."

Kevin stared at the priest for a moment, dumbfounded. He understood this game and had played it before, but never for such low stakes. Would this arrogant priest really go to the baron over an orphan's impudence? After a long pause, he addressed the priest.

"Father, would you excuse me for a moment? I'd like to talk to Dillon, alone."

"To what purpose, may I ask?"

"I'd like to see if he really understands what he's done, and why it's landed him here in my office. I'm not convinced that he sees the truth and severity of this matter, and I want to make sure of that before I make my decision."

"Very well, Magistrate. I will wait outside."

"Thank you, Father."

Father George was chatting with Trevor when Kevin opened the door and invited him back into the office. Trevor gladly rose to shut the door behind the men.

"Father, I've had a lengthy discussion with young Dillon here. Given his earlier confession and his acknowledgement to me of the severity of what he's done, he's prepared to accept the judgement of this office and not contest the sentence I pronounce."

"I'm glad he's seen the wisdom of not trying to fight this at trial." The portly priest turned to Dillon. "There might be hope for you yet, my boy."

"Considering that this is the first time he's ever been in trouble with the law and his family's reputation as solid, upstanding subjects of the baron..."

Father George began to speak a word of protest, but the Magistrate silenced him with a raised hand and continued.

"...I have decided that I will sentence him to ten months servitude and a fine of ten gold."

Dillon's heart sank. Ten gold? He'd never seen that much money since before his father died. Even with the sale of the sword, it was more than he ever hoped to have.

"The fine is the true penalty, the servitude will be to me personally. It keeps him from wasting his life in a prison cell or work camp, but still allows me to see that he is sincere in his regret. I trust this meets with your approval, Father?"

"Certainly. But I must ask, what will happen if the boy can't pay the fine? You can clearly see that he has no visible means of support."

"Well, I need to discuss that with you, Father. It has come to my attention that there is a small matter of a breach of contract between your church and young Mr. Kandliss."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I have heard that your church signed a contract with Dillon's late father for delivery of some 2000 candles. However, you're behind in your payments."

"I cancelled the church's business dealings with the Kandliss family."

"But only after you had already received a large number of candles, including a delivery for which you have yet to pay. If you wish to no long do business with the family, you need to notify them of your intent and then ensure that you close your account in good standing."

"That family is under the judgment of Arhus! I'll not be a party to his success." Father George pointed a short, fat finger at Dillon, who looked on in disbelief.

"Now, Father, you wouldn't be advocating taking the law into your own hands, would you? Next thing you know, we'd have vigilantes running around town with swords." Kevin looked pointedly at Father George, who suddenly saw the wisdom of silence. "I thought so. I'm sure we can clear the whole thing up quickly. From what Dillon explained to me, I should be able to find the ledger in his house in short order. I'm sure it will corroborate his account of what you owe, which is four gold. However, I'm going to add a fine of one gold, payable to the Kandliss chandlery."

Father George was turning that funny shade of red again, Dillon noticed. The priest didn't say anything more, but stormed out of the room instead, leaving the office door open. A moment later, they heard the outer door open and slam shut. Dillon sat quietly for a moment.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. That actually felt good. I wonder if that makes it sinful?" The magistrate looked at his young charge and chuckled. "You still have to serve your sentence, though."