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No one came to speak with him. Jesh walked over to the small window on his cell door. From there he could see the door leading to the courtroom. A crowd was gathering there. He couldn't see it, but he could hear it. Would they try him so soon? They had known his ship was coming. They must have been waiting for him, with the court all set up. He tried to stay calm. He'd been planning his defense for years. The evidence he'd collected was solid, if only they'd listen. He looked around then for his bag and realized that it was not in the room.
Jesh paced his cell for a few moments. His hands were still cuffed and that distracted him. He went back over to the door and looked out. A soldier stood guard near his door. No one else was in the room. "Excuse me," said Jesh. "Where's my bag? I'll be needing it." The soldier glanced up but refused to speak to him. Jesh sat on the bench. Surely they would bring it before the trial began, he thought.
At the sound of footsteps, Jesh stood. The door opened and several soldiers came in and escorted him into the outer room. He looked for his bag there, but couldn't see it. They began leading him towards the courtroom. Jesh stopped, realizing that the trial was ready to start. "Wait," he said. The soldiers pushed him, but Jesh wouldn't go. One of the men looked like a captain. Jesh had seen him among the soldiers waiting at the ship. He turned to him. "I had a bag with me--I've got to have it."
"I'm sorry," he said.
The soldier behind Jesh pushed him again. "But do you have it? It had all my evidence in it," insisted Jesh.
The captain's smile was barely perceptible. "How unfortunate. I know nothing about such a bag." He nodded to the soldiers, who pushed Jesh again. He allowed himself to be led into the room. It was packed with people, who shouted when he was brought in. All he could think about was the bag. Years of work and research, his entire defense--gone. The soldiers had taken it; therefore, the captain must have it. Jesh was sure he had lied. Or had it been misplaced? Or discarded? Jesh's mind went numb. Noise filled the room. Everywhere he looked he saw death: in the eyes of the crowd, in the solemn judges, in the members of the house of Hassonlandith.
He knew he mustn't give in to terror, but old tales came unbidden to his mind of the deaths a murderer could suffer. He could be rent by dogs, or burned alive, or beaten or starved to death.
The soldiers led him to the center of the room, and left him there, standing in front of the Lawbody. The crowd sat down and hushed. A moderator stood and addressed the people in the room. "We will now discover the truth." He turned to Jesh, looking him over a moment. "What is your name?"
"Jesh Hasson," he said, speaking in a clear, loud voice, trying not to sound afraid. The crowd murmured, and Jesh realized his error. "I mean--Jesh of the Hassonlandith," he said quickly, but it was too late. He had answered with his Prenth name, an insult to the Hasson.
"Who accuses him?" asked the moderator.
Lord Rissertoranth rose. "I do," he said, "He killed my father Demminsantlan, Lord of the Hassonlandith. We all know that the Prent lawmakers have already found him guilty." Lord Rissertoranth must have become Lord of the Hasson at his father's death.
The moderator looked at Jesh. "Is there anything more to be said on this matter? Do you have some evidence to present?"
"I do, but the soldiers took it from me when they arrested me. I need it back," said Jesh.
The moderator conferred with someone. "We know nothing about this matter. If you have something to say in your defense, say it now."
Jesh was angry. They were doing this on purpose, obstructing his case. On Prent the case would have been delayed for months if necessary to solve such a matter. These people weren't interested in justice, only in revenge. Without the evidence, the Lawbody had only his word to rely on, and right now his word was worthless on Kinthaldith.
"Have you nothing to say?" asked the moderator. The crowd grew impatient.
"I do," said Jesh, but words wouldn't come. How could he convince them? The cuffs rubbed his skin, bothering him. It seemed awkward to stand in front of them and speak while he was bound. They should free his hands. How could he think rationally or convince anyone of his innocence when they were treating him like a criminal? "I didn't kill Lord Demmin-santlan," he said, because he had to say something.
"I accompanied him to Prent, eleven years ago, on a visit. Even at that time there was a lot of hostility towards the planet of Kinthaldith over what they considered the 'slavery issue.' We were touring some ruins near the capital city, and three men attacked us with clubs. They hit Lord Demmin-santlan until he fell. Finally they ran and I stayed to help him, but he was badly injured. The Prent police arrived and arrested me. He died soon after."
The noise in the room increased. "Liar!" someone yelled.
"Do you have evidence to support this?" asked the moderator.
"Not these facts, but there is more. If I could contact the ship that brought me, I could reconstruct the lost material."
A chant began among the crowd. "Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!" The moderator had to raise his voice to be heard. "If the evidence is not here, it cannot be considered." The chants of the crowd grew louder and quicker. "We will now deliberate."
"But I'm not finished--"
"Enough. Take him out."
Soldiers approached him. "No. Wait--" Jesh said, but the soldiers grabbed him by the arms and forced him from the courtroom. His objections were lost in the jeers of the audience. They took him back to his cell, and put him roughly inside.
Jesh stood there in the center of the room and shivered. He went to the door and peered out the window. The captain sat at a desk in the outer room. Jesh called to him. "Please, let me talk to the moderator. They can't make a decision yet; I haven't finished my case."
"Shut up," said the captain, "or I'll come in there and beat you."
"If I could contact my ship, or at least explain the missing evidence--"
The captain stood and, taking a club from the wall, headed for the cell. Jesh stopped speaking, took several steps backward and stared at the approaching man. He realized his mouth was open; he shut it.
Before the captain reached the door, he stopped and looked at Jesh. "That's better. Now keep quiet."
Jesh sat down. Kinthaldith had no law against a man hitting another man, nor laws regarding the treatment of prisoners. In fact, there were few laws at all on Kinthaldith. The Houses made up their own rules. The Lawbody only settled disputes between Houses, or interfered in important cases, like murder.
Jesh had remembered the people of Kinthaldith as kind and reasonable. Honor and honesty were important to them. It surprised him that they could be so treacherous and unfair. He could see why Prent wanted reforms before dealing with Kinthaldith.
The soldiers returned then to get Jesh. He marveled that the decision had been made so quickly. They escorted him back into the courtroom. The crowd erupted in yells as they led him back in to stand in front of the Lawbody. They quieted then, to hear the sentence.
The Lawbody rose. One man spoke. "The man accused is guilty. We turn judgment over to Those Wronged."
A cheer went through the crowd, and Jesh felt a cold spot of fear settle into his stomach. All of his plans were endangered. He reasoned that they might not kill him, but it was hard to hope.
The man continued, "This servant is hereby returned to his rightful owners, the Hassonlandith, for judgment in the murder of Lord Demminsantlan. They are cleared of conscience as to his punishment."
Someone pushed Jesh, and he began to walk, dazed. He felt awkward. People from the crowd cursed and pointed at him. He felt ashamed. His professional lawyer's nerve fled, and he realized how foreign he'd become from his own people. Prent had made him so.
Jesh stopped in front of the Hasson. They stared at him without speaking. He knelt on one knee and bowed his head. “I didn’t kill Lord Demminsantlan. Please, believe me,” Jesh begged. It seemed the only graceful thing he could do. Then he stayed that way, not sure of what would happen.
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Someone gripped Jesh's arm, not gently, bringing him to his feet. Jesh looked up at him and saw hatred in Lord Risser's eyes. He led Jesh from the room, surrounded by the Hasson guards.