The Hammer
The hammer struck the table. The verdict was made. All the witnesses had testified. All the archives reviewed. All the experts consulted. The decision was clear. He was guilty. But guilty of what? Guilty of nothing other than guilt itself. Guilty of a crime that isn’t a crime. Guilty of breaking laws that were never laws. It was clear to all who witnessed his actions that this man was guilty. It was clear to all who knew him that he was insane. And everyone knew that he was a threat to not only man kind, but the entire structure of existence as we know it. He was guilty and of that there was no doubt.
To be locked away for all of time – that was to be his punishment. It was against the One Text to take a life of another being, even if they had committed such monstrosities as this man had. But that didn’t worry His High Honour Ferdruck of Middleshire IX – he had something much worse installed than death. Death was to easy going for such great crimes. To be sentenced to death was to be given an escape, a passage away from the devastation that was caused. Death, His High Honour believed, should be given to only those who have loyally followed the One Text and have actively worked to improve the worlds for the benefit for all of life. No, to be given death was much to kind. With the powers he had at his disposal there were punishments that could make people beg for death within hours. There were punishments that could make even the strongest of people unable to even think of begging for death. And then, to top all those, there was this punishment.
The punishment to be given for the crime was reserved for only special cases. Only for the direst of crimes and even then rarely given. But to all those who had been following the case over the past 23 years, this was clearly one of those crimes. Rumours flew, as rumours tend to do, that even His Imperial Majesty himself fully supported the punishment in this particular case.
The trail itself had gone on for longer than many cared to believe. Been as unique as it was many years of research were needed to find the laws imposed by the last ruling family all those centuries ago, that were required to convict the accused. More time was needed to find the evidence to prove him guilty. And finally when it looked like a conclusion was nearing, the Great Strike of 1502 broke out, stopping the flowing of the great trade ways for over a decade, leading to the death of His Imperial Majesty’s first wife – who is no longer mentioned by name due to royal decree – and, seen by many to be worse than any other of the great disasters of that period, all previously collected evidence mysteriously disappeared. What ever the cause for the disappearance may have been, it set things back many years.
Ferdruck was getting sick of the case, despite the prestige and high pay he was receiving from, not only the crown, but also many of the major churches as they tried to sway his unswayable views. The case had been going too long and he longed to return to his family. His youngest son, Tomos, had finished his schooling last year and was now out in the real world with his newly wed wife and his elder daughter had been granted an honorary place as a professor at her college, something almost unheard of from women – all of that he had missed due to this infernal case. But he had sworn to spend his life serving the One Text, as he kept reminding himself, and neither family nor anything else could stand in the way, for the oath was binding in more ways that the common folk imagined. After this case he could at last retire on the earnings and spend the rest of his years living with his wife in a little estate out in the country they would purchase. And finally the day had arrived which he had been waiting for, for all those years; the conclusion of the trail.
The high court room was an ancient building, built in a time before record. With its’ beautiful marble pillars that outlined rows upon rows of cushioned seats; the great stained-glass windows that encircled the room, casting many colours of lights across the audience; and of course the great stand, located at the far end of the court room. This was Ferdruck’s personal favourite of all the remarkable feature. Raised one meter above the rest of the floor, this was where he and the eight other judges sat in a semi-circle around the accused. At the top of the semi-circle rested a particularly fancy, amazingly carved, wooden throne. This was the official throne of His Imperial Majesty, although it was maintained more out of tradition than practical use, as no one Ferdruck knew could remember a time when His Imperial Majesty last visited a trail. Directly in front of the semi-circle sat two desks which housed both the defendant and the prosecutor. Finally, sitting at the edge of the great stand was chained - on a seat that seemed to be rotatable on the judge’s whim between facing the audience and themselves – sat the accused.
The hammer struck the table. A loud booming voice echoed from his mouth, making the occupants of the hall leap slightly as the silence was broken.
“We have gathered here this afternoon to continue trail regarding the possible breech in the code presented to our ancestors in the One Text. We have gathered here this afternoon to listen and review all the evidence presented to us, to give us the knowledge to truly judge the accused, as required by the code presented to our ancestors in the One Text,” Fredruck begun, as tradition required. With a flip of a leaver the accused chair spun round to face the judge panel. “You have been brought here today changed of crimes that haven’t been witnessed in the civilized world since the reign of the great Imperial Majesty Drenrick the First”. A small rustle of noise swept across the room as Ferdruck mentioned His Imperial Majesty Drenrick I, the founder of what now is the greatest empire on the face of the world, by name – an act that was rarely done. After pausing for a moment to wait for the fidgeting to stop, Fredruck continued. “How do you plead?”
The man raised his head, his eyes meeting with His High Honour. The years of imprisonment during the trail had certainly taken its’ toll on the accused. Once, when Fredruck first encounter the man, he was a hansom, charismatic young man, probably about the same age of his son. Now, the man before him seemed to be ancient; his eyes told of experiences that very few had ever witnessed; his hair greyed and his face aged past recognition. Their eyes met, in a battle that was carried out each time he was presented before the judge panel. After a few moments Ferdruck diverted his eyes, knowing that there was no advantage to be gained by defeating this lunatic today. Even if the accused did win that battle, the war would be won by the true servants of the One Text before the day was out.
In a gruff voice, that was barely more than a whisper, the accused replied. A simple reply that all had been expecting, yet still sent whispers waving out through the courtroom. “Innocent”
His High Honour stood up from his seat, the Staff of Judgement in his hand, and walked across to the accused. Kneeling over him, he whispered softly in his ear, in a tone that could only be described as harsh and hating. “You continue to deny the truth despite all the evidence presented before us, clearly labelling you as guilty? It does not matter any more, as a decision has been reached. You will rot, before I am finished with you,” Ferdruck almost spat out the last two words, before marching back to his seat.
“After careful consideration of all the evidence that has been placed before us, we, those who have been trusted with the judgement of the one who stands before us, have voted and a conclusion has been reached. With a result of two to seven, it has been decided that he is found guilty of breeching the codes found within the One Text, putting the whole existence on the verge of destruction. I am faced with a problem when finding a fitting punishment for such a vast crime, but it has become clear to me that only one course of action is available to us”.
His High Honour Ferdrick of Middleshire IX paused, as he looked out over the hundreds of faces before him. Lowering his voice, he spoke the words which would not only haunt him for the rest of his life, but also cast a shadow upon the entire empire for decades to come.
“You are hereby sentenced to the Care of Elsocria the Blind for all eternity. All previously held land and possessions shall be taken into the care of the Empire. All previously held titles are revoked and all positions removed. As of this point onwards, speaking the name Auther Goldcoin shall be considered equal to treason and tried as such. His name shall be wiped from all record, to be replaced with the single word Traitor”.
Traitor… Traitor… Traitor…