Arthur Daigle's Blog - Posts Tagged "judge"

“Mansions are a puzzle,” Stotle said. It was a glorious sunny day in Sunset City, and Stotle was people watching on a busy street. “Such huge buildings can house many residents yet have only a small fraction of their capacity living inside. Their size and splendor are meant to awe visitors and rivals, but they cost so much to build and maintain, funds better spent to generate further wealth. So much money spent for so little purpose.”

A few men walking by stared at the little goblin perched on windowsill of a small stone tower. The tower hadn’t been there the day before, but everyone was in a hurry, and anyone who stopped to question what was going on was pushed forward by the stream of people behind them.

“There is a possibility the mansion’s grandeur is advantageous,” Stotle admitted. “If your house is large and filled with nice things, it must mean you are powerful and influential. Thus visitors will give you more of their attention and be more likely to obey ridiculous orders. Of course some people would be inclined to steal that wealth, possibly hurting the owner in the process, making this an advisable course of action only in a law abiding society. Are we in one of those?”

The stone tower shrugged. A few people noticed the movement, but again the push of the crowds behind them kept them from sticking around and asking awkward questions like ‘what’s going on’ or ‘are we in danger’.

Sunset City was one of those rare cities that didn’t instinctively hate goblins. This was due to a fire eighty years ago that had destroyed half the city. The fire had started late at night, and goblins had been instrumental in warning people of the danger. Afterwards a royal decree was issued that goblins would be tolerated provided they did nothing truly outrageous, a big request, but goblins had made some effort to stay in the city’s good graces. It was a tenuous truce which allowed Stotle to be out in the open without anyone trying to attack him.

“Regardless, I wouldn’t want you to turn into a mansion. I have no pretensions, and it would attract attention from people I’d prefer to avoid. Do you have a favorite form?”

The tower had to think about that for a few seconds before it shrugged again. This time a man and woman stopped and stared.

“Who are you talking to?” the man asked.

Stotle tapped the stone tower. “A close friend who has proven to be a remarkably good listener. Most people try to gag me when I go on like this. It’s really quite fortunate that we met.”

“Are you okay?” the woman asked.

Stotle sat up straight and smiled. “Now that is an interesting question. How are we judging wellness when there are so many—”

“Move it before I kick you in the backside!” a dwarf yelled, and he pushed the couple along.

“Startling how often intense philosophical discussions end that way,” Stotle lamented. “No one has time to discuss the nature of existence, proof society is in too much of a hurry.”

It had been Stotle’s observation that people in general and humans in particular rushed from one place to another. Rush to work, rush away from work, rush to places of amusement, rush to get in line and stop rushing. You’d think they’d be happy to rest for a while in those lines, but no, they found standing still stressful. It was a dreadful, silly and often senseless way to go through life.

For a change there was actually a reason for everyone to be hurrying along. A prison wagon pulled by four horses and escorted by four guardsmen rolled down the street. Such wagons were more like large boxes on wheels, with a locked door to admit criminals and a barred window on the back end. Stotle had long wanted to ride in one, but every time he met guardsmen they were more inclined to shoo him away than arrest him. Quite unfair. To his amazement he recognized the person inside pressed up against the window.

“Tristan!” Stotle called out. He stood up and waved. “Good to see you again.”

The prison wagon came to a halt as guardsmen tried to clear the road. This gave Stotle a few moments to talk to his old friend. Tristan pulled futilely at the window bars, when he spotted Stotle. “You!”

“You seem to be in a spot of trouble,” Stotle said. “Last I’d heard, you’d settled down and gotten a job as a clerk.”

“My father found us and attacked my family!”

The stone tower began to tremble. Stotle patted it and said, “Easy. If he attacked you, why isn’t he in that wagon?”

Another wagon with four more guardsmen escorting it rolled up behind the first. Stotle didn’t see who was held within it, but he heard an angry man inside scream, “Release me, you fools!”

“Ah, that would be him,” Stotle said.

“Guardsmen didn’t know what was going on and seized us all,” Tristan said. Nearby pedestrians looked horrified at the news, even more so when Tristan’s wife Esa stood up beside her husband, the couple’s tiny baby in her arms.

The stone tower shook more and began to shift under Stotle, assembling a large arm of wood and bricks. Stotle ran his right hand across the tower and said, “We’ll get them out, but not like that. Tristan, don’t panic. I’ll have you out of there in time for breakfast. What do you prefer, eggs and bacon or oatmeal?”

The road cleared and the prison wagons rolled out. Stotle heard Tristan and Isa’s baby crying. The tower almost came apart, but Stotle calmed it, saying, “We’ll need time to deal with this. And oatmeal. I’m almost certain he said oatmeal.”

A door at the base of the tower opened and goblins came spilling out. One of them looked up at Stotle and said, “What’s going on? We were sound asleep when the big guy nearly split in half.”

“We need to save our old friend Tristan from jail,” Stotle explained.

A goblin scratched his head. “Jailbreak or phony evidence?”

“Oddly enough, neither.”

* * * * *
Sunset City had only one courthouse, a large brick building in the city’s government sector. It was only a matter of time until the prison wagon arrived carrying Tristan, Isa and their baby arrived. Stotle and his fellow goblins snuck in, found the trial schedule and took the necessary steps to ensure a favorable outcome. The next morning the goblins found the family in a locked room. Stotle and a shaggy goblin had no trouble picking the lock and joining them.

Amazed, Tristan asked, “How did you get in?”

“Prisons and courthouses and built to keep people in, not out,” Stotle explained. “Don’t worry, I brought oatmeal.”

“I, wait, what?” Tristan asked. “Are you breaking us out?”

“Good heavens, no,” Stotle replied, and handed a bowl of oatmeal to Isa. “You are a law abiding man with a family and a job. The very thought of you sneaking out of prison to a ship waiting to carry you far away is laughable.”

“At the moment it sounds appealing,” Tristan replied. “We’ve been fleeing my father’s wrath for so long. The thought of being so far away he can never find us is comforting.”

“Pish tosh,” Stotle said, and handed Tristan another bowl. “Far better you be found innocent of the whole matter, and my friends and I have arranged just that.”

“How?” Isa asked.

“We delayed all the judges in Sunset City so they couldn’t rule on your case,” Stotle explained. “With no judge available, they had no choice but to call our favorite judge, Roy B Sprout. The poor fellow is bored to death of retirement and jumped at this opportunity. I’m positive he will rule in your favor.”

Sounding worried, Tristan asked, “How did you delay these judges?”

“There’s no time to discuss missing horses, abducted pets or laundry related disasters,” Stotle replied. “Judge Sprout will see you soon, so finish your breakfasts and don’t worry.”

“You trust this judge?” Isa asked.

Stotle smiled. “Completely! He’s quite mad, you know.”

Tristan gasped, but before he could talk the door opened and another goblin came in. “Guys, we’ve got to talk. In private.”

“We’ll be back shortly,” Stotle promised the young family. He went out to a hallway with the shaggy goblin and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I asked around, and before that evil guy attacked his son, he hired armed men. They broke into Tristan and Isa’s apartment last night. They’re back, and one of them got in to see the old guy.”

Stotle frowned. “They sound like mercenaries, or possibly assassins. We’re going to have to take a more active role in this matter.”

Stotle led the goblins out of the courthouse, where more goblins waited in an alleyway. There was also an outhouse where there hadn’t been one an hour before. An agitated man kept pulling on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Model Zero Constructor, take the form of a man,” Stotle announced. The outhouse came apart and rebuilt itself into a golem made of wood, stone and iron. The man screamed and ran off, leaving the goblins and golem alone. Stotle walked up to Model Zero and said, “Tristan and his family are in danger.”

The golem leapt back, bumping into the courthouse. It held its one hand open a little, trying to suggest someone very small.

“Yes, that includes their daughter.”

Model Zero Constructor clenched his hand into a fist and shook it.

* * * * *

Courtroom number seven was large enough to accommodate a crowd even if it only had a small number of staff and the defendants. There were two tables with chairs, a currently empty jury box and the judge’s bench with a court assistant’s desk. The staff included a white haired male gnome at the assistant’s desk, an adolescent troll bailiff and a young lady court stenographer carrying a wad of papers. Tristan, Isa and their daughter were at one table while Tristan’s father was at the second, staring balefully at his son. Large windows let the morning light illuminate the room and two doors allowed entry to the courtroom.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” the troll began. “Court is now in session, so shut your yaps. The honorable Judge Roy S Bean presiding.”

The gnome choked on his spit, nearly passing out, as the judge entered the court. He was an old man with white hair and a short mustache, and he was still buttoning up his black robe as he sat behind his bench. “Sorry I’m late. Didn’t know I was supposed to be here until twenty minutes ago. They made me retire and then show up with more work. Kelp, is that you?”

The gnome managed a weak nod, prompting Juge Sprout to add, “Good to see you still on the job. It’s hardworking people like you who make the legal system work. You don’t get enough respect by half. Now who are we starting with?”

“There was a public disturbance and—” the gnome began.

“Right, this one here.” Judge Sprout held up a sheet of paper from the top of a stack on his bench. “Says a man attacked his son, wife and their daughter at the Atlas Shipping company. No serious injuries, no damage to public or private property, but we need to make sure it doesn’t go farther. Where’s this daughter? Don’t see her.”

Tristan gestured to his infant daughter and said, “This is my daughter, law giver.”

“Law giver?” Judge Sprout asked.

“Isn’t that what your job is called here?” Tristan sounded hesitant.

“We’re called judges. Where are you from, son?”

“Skitherin Kingdom. I apologize for my error. It won’t happen again.”

“You show this old fool respect and not your father?” the old man yelled.

“Pipe down!” the troll bailiff yelled. He scowled and added, “Hey, who are you?”

All eyes turned to see five people with bags of popcorn enter the courtroom and sit at the back. One of them said, “We heard Judge Sprout was back and we wanted to watch. Don’t mind us, we’ll be quiet.”

“Fine, whatever,” Judge Sprout said. He peered at the baby girl and said, “Paperwork said this fracas had something to do with the little lady. Bring her over, I want a look at her.”

“I, umm,” Tristan began, but he relented when the troll brough his daughter to the judge. Sprout held the baby with the ease of a man who’d raised children. The baby looked at him curiously as she tried to figure out who this was and if she should be upset.

“She’s healthy, good weight, plenty active,” Judge Sprout said. Kelp sighed and rolled his eyes. He and the rest of the courtroom totally missed a hired killer try to enter the courtroom with a handful of poison darts, only for four goblins to put a bag over his head and drag him out. Totally oblivious to the danger, Judge Sprout said, “I’ve got a grandbaby her age. Bring her over some time and we’ll let them play together.”

“Sir, the case,” Kelp said.

“We’ll get to it. Now what’s this fight over?”

“My father,” Tristan began.

“My disobedient son abandoned his responsibilities, married against my wishes and fathered this rodent!” Tristan’s father interrupted.

Men and women across the courtroom gasped except for Judge Sprout, whose eyes narrowed and gritted his teeth. Missing the obvious signs of danger, Tristan’s father continued his tirade.

“By Skitherin law he is obliged to serve me without question until death. I arranged a proper marriage for him, which is still possible once this conniving wench is properly dealt with. I demand he return with me at once and this sham of a marriage be recognized as illegal.”

“No!” Tristan cried out.

“Be silent, boy!” his father yelled back.

“That’s plenty enough of that,” Judge Sprout said firmly. When the baby began to whimper, he rocked her and patted her back.

“Law…judge, this isn’t the first time my father has attacked us,” Tristan said. “My family was on our wat to Oceanview Kingdom when he caught up with us and tried to strike us with a shattering star gauntlet. We only just escaped him.”

The stenographer gasped. Kelp lost his expression of exasperation and actually growled. The troll bailiff looked seconds away from violence. Spectators grabbed the sides of their chairs to keep from falling off in shock.

Judge Sprout banged his gavel and then asked Tristan, “Where’s this magic gauntlet?”

“I don’t know, sir. He didn’t have it during the second attack.”

“This is outrageous!” Tristan’s father yelled. “I demand my rights be respected!”

Outside the courthouse, a killer armed with a crossbow climbed onto a narrow ledge of a second story building and took aim at Esa. He had a clear shot through the window and was loading his crossbow when a huge hand of wood and bricks wrapped around his head, muffling his terrified cries as he was dragged down to street level for a vicious and well deserved beating.

“One more outburst like that and I’ll let the bailiff take you out behind the shed,” Judge Sprout said with a voice as harsh as acid.

“Really?” the troll asked. “None of the other judges let me do that.”

“They’re younger and more forgiving,” Judge Sprout replied. “Now as I see it, half of this is a matter of jurisdiction. You’re claiming this youngster go home with you based on Skitherin law. You’re a thousand miles away from where that would matter. Oceanview law says a boy is considered a man and independent at eighteen. How old are you, son?”

“Nineteen,” Tristan told him.

“That settles that. He can do as he pleases.”
Tristan’s father scowled at the ruling. Keeping his tone low, he said, “You would do well to consider your words. I regularly dine with the Minister of Obedience. A word from me to his ears would affect relations between our kingdoms.”

“I don’t care who you eat your supper with,” Judge Sprout replied. He shifted the baby so she rested on his shoulder. “The law doesn’t change if you’re rich or powerful. Your boy said you tried to kill his wife and daughter, but it was outside Oceanview Kingdom, so I can’t rule on that. Pity, but that’s the law.”

More people entered the courtroom to watch the proceedings, two carrying candy and one with a bag of peanuts. The door stayed open just long enough to see three goblins drag a swordsman into a broom closet, but all eyes were on the judge.

“Regarding the validity of this couple’s marriage, that’s an easy one,” Judge Sprout added. “Man’s free to marry who he wants at eighteen, so no problem there. Young lady, are you over eighteen?”

“Eighteen exactly, sir,” she said timidly.

“You went into the marriage of your own free will with no pressure?”

Shocked, she said, “Pressured? Certainly not!”

“Then that’s settled, too. You’re free to go about your business and the fight with the baby’s granddad won’t go on your record.”

“I am no relation to that brat!” Tristan’s father yelled.

Judge Sprout waved a finger at the man and asked, “Bailiff?”

“Aw, sweet!” The crowd of spectators gasped when the troll slapped the old man.

“Now as for you,” Judge Sprout began, “These days I’m not allowed to hold you longer for a crime that only resulted in a few bruises. Used to have more latitude in punishments, but I’m told it’s not right.”

Judge Sprout leaned over his bench and spoke in a murderous tone. “But I can order city guardsmen to watch you while you’re here, and if they see even a hint that you’re planning these good folks harm they’ll arrest you and put you in a deep, dark hole. Oceanview doesn’t allow the death penalty anymore. I flatter myself to think it’s because of how often I used that punishment. That said, guardsmen can use lethal force to protect the innocent if they see fit. Do we understand each other?”

The evil old man gritted his teeth. “We do.”

“Then get out of my court.”

Kelp rolled his eyes and said, “Sir, the baby.”
“What?”

“You didn’t give back the couple’s baby,” Kelp clarified.

“Oh!” Judge Sprout looked down and said, “Little lady fell asleep. Bailiff, hand her back. Paperwork says the next case is about an ogre beating up five men and covering them with tar. Call that case and let’s get this done in time for lunch.”

Tristan and Esa left with their daughter, giving his father fearful glances. The wicked man looked like was tempted to attack again, but he held in his fury until he exited the courthouse to the busy street. Once they were outside, the old man began yelling.

“You disgrace! You hide behind the pathetic laws of weak, undisciplined men! I raised you to be strong! I raised you to obey!”

“There is nothing between us,” Tristan replied. “No love, no warmth, no kindness. I have those with Esa, and I will never abandon her.”

“Then you doom yourself!

There was a long, awkward pause as everyone on the street stared at him in horror. He looked around as if expecting something dramatic to happen. When he was met with silence, he looked confused for a second and stormed away.

Stotle walked up to the young couple and frowned. “I fear we’re going to have to keep an eye on him. Hmm, I’d thought not existing would mean fewer responsibilities, not more.”

“You do exist,” Tristan told the goblin, “a fact I’m happy for. Excuse me, but I didn’t see an outhouse over there when my family and I were brought in.”

“Don’t give it any thought,” Stotle replied.


“Let us out!” a muffled voice called from inside the outhouse.

“No,” Stotle said. “Now I…oh dear my.”

“What’s wrong?” Isa asked.

Stotle pulled a paper off the outhouse’s door. “Whoever placed this paper has done us a disservice.”

‘No secrets! Your leaders are keeping the truth from you! A powerful magic artifact called the Dawn Lantern is hidden within Sunset City, capital of Oceanview Kingdom.’

“A great disservice indeed,” the goblin said.