Chapter 11
Having lay in bed all day, Minna was able to study far into the night. She lost Jeffers to sleep before midnight; with the lantern dimmed she allowed him to stay in his chair so that, if he woke, she could put him back to work. In anticipation, she wrote down a list of questions. When Jeffers woke, complaining of a sore neck and strange dreams, she handed him her list. Some of the questions he copied into his book. Others he dismissed as being questions of law, which he did not consider himself qualified to answer. He marked those for Minna to ask of the Advocate when they met next. The others he tried to answer, but yawns slurred many of his words and sleep-fogged mind. Impatient, She finally dismissed him to his room and continued on without him.
The night eventually conquered the Varlet as well; a drumming on her door woke her. The lantern burned on her bed stand, and she had wrinkled another set of her clothes by sleeping in them. She gave a quick prayer to Sif for a day better than the last one, slipped on a dressing robe, then opened the door. The same temple messenger that had delivered the last summons the previous day handed over a scroll, which told the Varlet that she was to be in Matron Deonta’s chambers at second bell. The scroll announced that the Temple Advocate Pierra would attend as well.
Minna had plenty of time to clean up, change, and eat a fine breakfast. The Guardsman at her door knew of her appointment and stood ready to escort her. She learned that Cadlius had left early again for his morning exercise, and she decided to let Jeffers sleep.
She was getting familiar with the route, and came near to leading the Attendee to the Matron’s chamber. As the door opened, she closed her eyes to the light from the Deonta’s window so she would not have to lower her gaze.
“It seems that you two have been conspiring against the Council,” the black silhouette sitting behind the desk said.
“I trust those are not formal charges,” answered another darkened form that Minna could barely recognize through her squinting as the Advocate’s.
“Not yet,” Deonta answered. “Not yet. But, what you are asking is out of the question. If you want to change K’non’s law, then bring your objections to the council when it is in legislative session. A trial is meant for enforcing the law as it is, not to debate what it ought to say.”
“I am speaking about the law that is,” Pierra answered. “The law allows that no person shall be punished for a crime if it can be shown that the person acted under the influence of a charm, possession, or mental defect. I have not yet determined whether Zin’s behavior was caused by a mental defect or a charm, but I will present one of the two defenses to the Council.
“Charm?” Minna asked in surprise.
“Yes,” answered the Advocate. Though Pierra faced Minna, there was no doubt in the Varlet’s mind that the Advocate was actually answering the question for Deonta’s benefit. “There is precedent. There is an enchanted forest called Henchman Copse. A strange wind blows through the trees there, and those who enter are seduced into defending the woods from all who would do it harm. It has happened more than once that a visitor has taken sword or axe or club to woodcutters and campers. Those who did the killing were considered the least likely to kill another.”
“You know of the existence of a forest that charms people into attacking a lady of Sif?” Deonta asked.
“Not a forest,” Pierra said, “But, the fact that this enchantment exists in a forest is of no importance to the law. The same wind blowing trough a cave or a mountain valley, or a magical spring on a glade, or an enchanted weapon found near some ancient graveyard, all such things are handled in the law as charms.”
“So where is this charm that influenced Zin, Pierra? What magical item did Zin hear or where is this enchanted land that he visited?”
“The places of his childhood, as well as the early parts of his adult life.” Pierra answered. “It was not a whispered wind, but the murmurs of half-heard conversations—or even fully heard conversations—among those he shared community with. It was the things he saw about him every day. They formed his mind—charmed him, if you will—into a way of thinking that, eventually, lead to his striking down a Lady of Sif on the steps of the Temple of K’non, as a visitor to Henchman Wood would cut down a woodcutter”
Deonta’s fists slammed on the table as she stood. “I am sick of people claiming that society is to blame for what they are responsible for. You speak as if Zin had nothing to do with it. He is responsible for his own conduct, and the Council will hold him responsible.”
“I am not blaming society any more than I am blaming Zin,” Pierra answered. “I am saying only that Zin’s behavior is one link in a causal chain, and our law does not allow us to harm those whose behavior is caused. It doesn’t matter whether the Henchman Copse charms those who visits it because of an enchantment cast upon it by an ancient druid, or because the forest itself is sentient as some claim, or because pure chance laid the limbs about in such a way that the wind blowing through the branches places the suggestion in people’s minds. All that matters is that the behavior of the forest’s henchmen is caused. For the same reason, it does not matter whether anybody intentionally formed Zin Kussad’s mind into that of a person likely to assault a Lady of Sif. It does not matter if anybody else is to blame. It only matters that the trait is caused; our duty to such people is not to execute them, but simply to remove the effects of the enchantment.”
Blowing out her breath, Deonta said, “You sadden me, Pierra. What possessed you to start advocating such insanity? Nobody, not even Zin’s parents, had as much time and opportunity to influence the development of his mind as Zin himself. More than any other person could possibly be, he is the one responsible for what he is.”
“Again, what you say is not something that I dispute,” Pierra answered. “Zin’s present state is the cause of interaction between his mind and the things that happen around him. We can’t explain how he became the type of person he is without saying something about the type of person he was at earlier times. But many enchantments work the same way; the Fountain at Hell’s Gate will have no effect on the average man, but will only corrupt the most saintly and pure. Other magics reinforce whatever mood or desire that the person has a particular moment; strengthening it so that it dominates the rest of the person’s mind. It fixes them on a particular goal; if that goal is to hurt somebody who has angered them, then even if the person would normally do no harm as the anger fades, under these charms the anger does not fade. And in such a case I would argue that the law of charm, possession, and insanity implies that the accused should not be punished but, instead, our obligation stands with removing the enchantment.”
“A lot of people, raised in the worst environment, end up being good people. You can’t tell me that they don’t have a choice in the type of person they turn out to be.”
Pierra turned to the Varlet and said, “This is what you are here for. I can argue law, but I need you to argue metaphysics.”
Minna stepped forward. “Respectfully, Lady Deonta, but to assume that two people placed in the same situation will act the same way if not for Will’s Power is to assume that minds are all identical. There is no mystery with minds structured differently producing different behavior for people in identical situations. One likes potatoes; another bread. Given identical options, they choose differently—but their choice is still fixed by the way their mind is structured. Nothing in any of this supports the thesis that Will’s Power is involved. In fact, to credit such differences to Will’s Power is simply to make the term refer to these differences, but if that’s all Will’s Power is, then from where springs Justice’s right to see some of these people harmed and others not?”
“Okay, Matron, what are these differences that make one person act one way and another act differently.”
“I can’t say in every case what the differences are. Minds are complex, but I see no need ever to mention Will’s Power in explaining any difference when it is much more likely that we’ll find the difference in more mundane things like the agents’ beliefs and desires. To say that Will’s Power is behind any difference which we cannot yet identify is merely to make the term ‘Will’s Power’ the definition of the breadth of our ignorance. To make this the foundation on which punishment is justified is to ground punishment on ignorance.”
“You’re the one claiming ignorance, Varlet. I say that Will’s Power answers these questions, and the Law of K’non states that this is to be assumed true unless the Advocate here can prove otherwise.”
“You assume it, but with no evidence, with nothing behind your belief but your desire to see these people hurt. Pardon me, Matron Deonta, but that makes you no better than them.”
“Is it not the nature of an assumption that it needs no evidence?” Deonta asks smugly. “If it is derived from evidence, it is not assumed.”
Pierra leaned back against the wall and folded her arms across her chest. “Actually, this conversation has shown me that I don’t need your permission to argue that the law of insanity can be applied to this case, Matron Deonta. By what I have heard so far, the fit is clear.”
The Matron smiled around barely contained anger. “The law of insanity states that lacking the capacity to conform one’s behavior to the law must come from a defect of the mind; an abnormality. You want to argue that nobody has the ability to draw on Will’s Power. Even if I grant that, then there is nothing abnormal about it. It’s not a defect.”
“You think that one of the criteria for being ill is that one must have an abnormal condition? If a plague swept through K’non that left everybody in bed with a fever you would announce that everybody is in perfect health because their condition was not rare?”
“Of all people, Minna, I would expect better from you. The fever is not normal, compared to the life we live now or the lives of most people. But if all people at all times had this fever then I sincerely doubt that any would call it an illness, any more than we call aging an illness. It would be a normal part of life.”
Advocate Pierra moved between the Matron and the Varlet, holding up her hands for peace. “I wish to argue before the Council that Zin lacked the capacity to call upon Will’s Power, as we all do. But this lack is not what caused his action; to say it did is an absurdity easily refuted by recognizing that if this lack was a cause of Zin’s action which all of us share, we would all do the same thing as he did. What caused Zin to perform the criminal act are beliefs and desires nearly unique to Zin himself. Since they are unique, it follows that they are abnormal, since few of us, if any, would have pushed the lady of Sif. And, so, we can count them as a defect.”
“No!” shouted Varlet Minna. “A trait does not have to be uncommon to be bad. It only needs to drive a person to harm others. This lust for revenge that you call a love of Justice . . .”
“Not according to our law,” the Advocate answered, cutting the Varlet off with a chop of her hands. “As the Matron herself said, when the Council sits in judicial session, I am to argue the law as it is written. Your arguments that the law should be written differently are fit only for the Council in legislative session. Besides, I have learned that the best practice is to grant your opponent as much of what she already believes as you can, and if you can defeat her arguments under the worst set of assumptions, then so much the better for your case.”
Pierra turned back to the Matron. “There is my argument. Zin has an abnormal brain condition, a set of beliefs and desires uncommon among the citizens of K’non, states he acquired like the henchmen of Henchmen Copse because of the sounds that surrounded him in his youth, and they caused his actions. There exists no Power of Will for him to draw upon that would allow him to defy the simple causal laws that determined his action.”
“He does not have an illness,” The Matron said. “The behavior must be caused by an illness.”
“Or charm, or possession,” Pierra added. “I believe the law of charm actually fits this case the best, and that is how I will argue it before the Council.”
“No, you will not. This discussion is insane. You would have us throw our whole system of law out the window.”
“The Council is perfectly free to decide against me when I am done. I have no vote, only a duty to present an interpretation of how the Council should vote. It is the Council who will decide whether to throw off our present obsession, not I.”
Deonta turned to stare out her window.
Slowly, Pierra moved beside her. Minna could barely hear the words she spoke. “Matron Deonta, the purpose of a formal hearing before the council is to focus attention on the relevant facts of a case before we make such an important decision about another person’s future as is represented by taking his life. These are important issues, and in spite of your protests I do not believe you think the view I presented here is so obviously false. Don’t you think it would do us good to formally look at the evidence confronting us on this issue? Don’t you think you have an obligation to Zin and others like him not to offhandedly dismiss reasons for doubting that you are justified in taking his life? Don’t you think it is a question Sif, and even Justice himself if He exists, would want us to look into?”
The silence continued for minutes. The Matron answered softly. “This is not a decision that I care to make on my own. I will discuss it with the other members of the Council and get back to you. If they wish to hear arguments that the doctrine of Justice and Will is a myth, then you will have your say in court.”
Pienna answered with a bow, turned, and headed for the exit, taking hold of Minna’s sleeve as she walked by. “We’ve done the best we can, the decision is hers,” she whispered.
Fighting her urge to add a hundred comments that raced through her mind, the Varlet followed. Their escort waited in the antechamber to guide them back to the surface.
As soon as the door to the Matron’s chamber closed, Minna spoke. She still kept her voice in a whisper to keep the escort from hearing, “Are we going to get our hearing.”
“I doubt it,” the Advocate answered. “What you are advocating here, Varlet Minna, is a revolution, and revolutions almost never come about peacefully. She will think about it, but ultimately she will decide that the implications are too extreme, too revolutionary, and humbly answer that we must stay within more traditional lines of argument.”
“You sound as pessimistic as Jeffers.”
“My job allows me no wild-eyed fantasies about what could be, Varlet. Performing my duties well depends on accurately predicting the effects of my arguments in the real-life decisions of other people. We have a better chance with this than with any other option, but that doesn’t mean our chances are good.”
Minna kept her further options to herself.
Early in her life, Minna quit noticing those who knelt in acknowledgement of her rank, but a Lady of Sif she passed seemed strangely familiar. When she turned to see the Lady’s face when she got back to her feet, Minna grew more certain that the face was of somebody she knew. It was not until the Lady’s face broke into a scowl that Minna was certain.
“Excuse me,” Minna said to the Advocate; then she commanded the Lady to stop. As the Varlet neared, the Lady knelt again. Minna ordered her to stand. When they were eye to eye; or, more precisely, eye to chin, for the Lady was taller than Minna, the Varlet smiled and said, “Tcharinna, so this is where you went off to.”
The Lady brushed her long black hair out of her eyes and made an attempt to smooth the wrinkles in her vestments. She gave a stiff, formal bow and answered, “Varlet Minna, I heard you were in town.”
“And yet you didn’t see fit to pay me a visit?”
“Excuse me, Varlet, but I never thought of us as having that kind of relationship. As I remember it, we shouted at each other far more than we talked with each other.” From the way Tcharinna’s body swayed as she talked and her words ran together Minna guessed she had started the morning with a little of the Church wine. The smell that clouded the Lady’s breath confirmed her theory. Even when Tcharrina served as the Temple’s appointed prophet to the inmates in her ward, Minna had thought her fondness for drink was stronger than it should have been. But that was only one of the topics in the frequent shouting matches the Lady had mentioned.
“I think it’s a sin,” Tcharrina said without a pause, alcohol frustrating her attempts to focus. “It’s a sin against Sif—against nature—what you do to criminals back in the Earl’s dungeon. It is far better, I say, to choose evil, as the wretches in this dungeon have done, than to have goodness forced upon you. At least the people here are free. When you at Malikii get done with your victims, they are mere machines. Their capacity to make a truly moral choice has been taken from them. And when you take that away from a person, that person is no longer human. He is like a clock, ticking away the moments of his life, merely performing as his builder made him to perform—no more human than a clock.”
Minna saw the signs of the escorting Attendee preparing to give a warning to Tcharrina and cut it off with a wave of her hand. “We have discussed this. We take nothing from these people; they never have the capacity to choose in the way you require. Unless, of course, you are saying that it is best if the motive to do good deeds comes from their own mind—their own beliefs and desires—in which case we give them the capacity to choose good by giving them the desire to do so.”
Tcharinna pressed her lips into a straight line and looked aside.
Minna continued, “I don’t see any reason why we need to refight old battles. I would still like to talk to you and discover how your life has gone. What do they have you doing here?”
When Lady Tcharinna did not answer;’ the Attendee serving as Minna’s escort filled the silence. “She is the keeper of the Temple clock.”
But Minna had learned more from Tcharinna’s silence. The Varlet mumbled, “I hope you come to visit some time. I am staying at the Welcome Inn.” She continued with a gesture to the Attendee to continue on to the surface. She did not look back at Lady Tcharinna; she did not want to see one of the cold stares of condemnation she that Tcharinna always had ready for her.
“Don’t expect the people of K’non to see you as a hero for what you are trying to do,” Pierra said. “You are trying to deprive them of something they treasure. That will not make you their friend.”
“But they have no right . . . “
“That does not matter. They will not look to their rights to evaluate you, they will look to their own likes and dislikes. They want to see these people punished. Their first reaction will be to hate anything or anybody that stands between them and what they want. That is one of my worries, Varlet. Even if we convince the Council to side with us, the people may well respond by calling them heretics and unbelievers and replacing them with others more dedicated to the one true faith.”
“K’non is not a democracy.”
“You try telling five hundred people standing outside your door with rope and torches that they have no say in how their governors conduct business. Any sensible leader is concerned with how the people will react to her proclamations.”
Minna stopped the Advocate in the middle of the hallway; the Attendee escorting them walked a few paces further and stopped. “Yesterday evening you didn’t know the first thing about my objections to this cult of Justice and Will you have here. Today you’re a fully devoted preacher of the cause. Why such a rapid conversion?”
“It’s my job to seek what is in the best interests of my clients; the prisoners of K’non. Arguing against this cult as you call it seems the best way to protect their interests. I will change views in a heartbeat as soon as I find one that is even more in my clients’ interest.”
“What about truth? What about adopting a view because the evidence supports it better than any other?”
“Truth is relative, Varlet. I am told the truths I am to defend in advance and hired to come up with the proofs afterward.”
Releasing the Advocate’s arm, Minna answered sadly, “I don’t think I approve of that way of going about it.”
“You do not have a vote on the council, Varlet. Consequently, I could care no less about your approval. What I do care about is coming up with the best arguments I can for the Council. Right now, I need to figure out the reasons the Matron will find for rejecting my request before she does, and block her before she has even had a chance to move. I think that some of your metaphysics will come in handy, Varlet, but unlike you philosophers, I deal in reality and have little time for head-in-the-clouds theorizing.”
“Reality? What could have more to do with reality than trying to discover what exists—what is real—and what isn’t?”
Turning back down the hallway, Pierra said, “I’m not interested, Varlet, and even if I was I have no time. My offices are this way. The Attendee will show you to the surface. I’ll probably have more questions for you this afternoon, so I would like it if you would make yourself available to share your evening meal with me.”
The Advocate disappeared around the corner before Minna could answer; no doubt she planned it that way. In the other direction the Attendee stood patiently. With a resigned sigh Minna gestured to the Attendee to lead the way and followed her to the surface.