Return to Kinthaldith

A novel by Meredith Skye

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No one came to speak with Jesh. From the small window of his cell, he saw the door leading to the courtroom and heard the noise of the crowd gathering. The thought that they would try him so soon threatened to overwhelm him with panic. Surely they wouldn't! He'd been planning his defense for years, and his evidence was convincing if only they'd listen. His heart skipped a beat when he glanced around the room and didn't see his bag or remember what happened to it. They'd taken it from him.

For a few moments, Jesh paced his cell, distracted by the fact that his hands were still cuffed. A glance out his cell window showed a solitary guard in the main 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 and wondered sullenly if they would bring it before the trial began.

Jesh thought of the small, embroidered pouch that Alisa had made for him, decorated on one side with a gull and on the other side with a lilac flower. It held the notes she'd given him, and he felt a pang of regret at the thought of losing it. That, and the pinecone he'd saved from a walk in the forest near her house on Eselaru Island, one of the few forests he'd seen on the planet of Prent.

Trivial. He scowled. With all the problems he faced, surely that was the least of his problems. Not only did the bag have his evidence but also important notes and documents that could help save Kinthaldith from domination by the Prent—and it held the transmitter to contact Llatt's ship. But they had made arrangements in case the transmitter was lost--Llatt would return in three months to Fallonhaiven.

The one thing the guards hadn't taken was the wristband Grayan had given Jesh, mistaking it for a bracelet. So, he still had a means of communicating with the outside world—not that he would trust Grayan enough to use it.

At the sound of footsteps, Jesh stood. The door opened, and several soldiers came in and escorted him into the outer room. Desperately, Jesh looked for his bag there but couldn't see it. They began leading him towards the courtroom.

Immediately, Jesh dug his heels in, realizing the trial was ready to begin. "Wait," he said. The soldiers pushed him, but Jesh refused to budge. 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." The Lawbody trial was vital. If they found him guilty...

"I'm sorry," said the captain.

The soldier behind Jesh pushed him again, but he resisted. "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. This time, he allowed himself to be led into the large courtroom. It was packed with people, who all shouted when he was brought in.

All Jesh could think about was the bag. Years of work, his entire defense, everything he owned--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 Jesh looked, he saw death: in the eyes of the crowd, in the solemn judges, and in the faces of the members of the house of Hassonlandith.

Jesh 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, burned alive, or beaten or starved to death.

But these people are reasonable, Jesh reassured himself. They wouldn't resort to that.

Soldiers led him to the center of the room and left him 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?"