The Black Sentry (10 page)

14

Daman held his breath until the Prosecutor spoke. “
Do you know what you say, boy?”

“I do,” he replied, maintaining a calm exterior that bore no resemblan
ce to the turmoil he felt within.

“And you say it, nonetheless.”

“Because it’s the truth. I can prove it. I can provide details. Things no one else could know. Certainly not my father.”

Crusher wasted no more time
. He called for two more Sentry and had Daman escorted to a cell. He warned them to say nothing of what they had heard until they received further instruction.

The two Sentry, both men older than him but whom he’
d known most of his life, hauled him to a cell in the Keep. Neither spoke a word.

He
spent the night in a dark iron-barred room with no light except the scant moonlight that shone through a high barred window. There was a bare cot but no other furniture or comfort of any kind. He was not allowed to see anyone. All he could do was curl up on the cot and try to sleep.

When at last he did drift off, his dreams were
haunted.

*****

Morning came abruptly. Four guards marched into his cell while he still slept. They hauled him to his feet and dragged him through the door. He was given only a few moments to wash and prepare himself.

“What’
s going to happen?” he asked.

The Sentry
sneered, but none would answer.

Eventually
he was taken to a larger room he knew to be the Courtroom of the Black Sentry. He had been here with his father on a few occasions, when neighbors were tried for offenses against the Sentinel. Offenses for which they were always found guilty.

The
courtroom gallery was packed with villagers. Every seat was filled.

Brita was th
ere, but instead of sitting with her family, she sat beside Xander. What possible reason could Xander have for being here? After the incident with Lieutenant Coffin, he should be as far from the Prosecutor as possible. He wouldn’t have been admitted to the courtroom unless a request was made by someone outside the slave class.

And why would Brita sit
with him?

Hi
s father sat at the front, his face dark and bruised. Daman’s mother sat behind him. They were surrounded by Black Sentry.

One person who was notably not present was the Old Man
. Why would they not force him to attend a prosecution that was all about him?

The guards pushed his father
into a chair on a raised platform, then stood behind him.

Prosecutor Crusher entered, the usual s
olemn expression on his face, frocked in his most formal ceremonial robe. He was followed by Benjamin Coffin and the village Magistrate. These three would decide his fate.

He
spotted another person passing through the doorway. He eyes widened.

The Acol
yte said not a word, but found a place in the center of the courtroom. He stood there silently, watching.

“The trial shall begin,
” Crusher pronounced. The crowd quieted. “The charge is that Daman Adkins, a boy of this village, has purposefully and intentionally conspired to commit treason with enemies of the Sentinel and furthermore has committed heresy against the Sentinel. This court shall consider the evidence and render judgment accordingly.”

He
was relieved to hear that his father was not listed as one of the accused.

Prosecutor Crusher stepped down from the raised
platform and stood before him. According to the Laws and Ways of the Sentinel, he would be permitted no counsel, he would be forced to testify, and he would not be permitted to call witnesses on his own behalf. He could only defend himself to the extent he was able while answering the questions put to him.

The first witness called was a Lieutenant Howe in the Black Sentry
platoon attached to another village called Sandego, far from Merrindale. His outfit had chased the Rebel for three days. According to Howe, the Rebel and several of his associates were involved in the theft of an important treasure. The associates were captured. Only the Rebel escaped.

No explanation or description of the device stolen w
as given—for good reason, he suspected. They did not want people to know anything about it. He could only conclude that the device stolen was the red-tinted key the Old Man had shown them in the cellar. He wondered how such a tiny object could cause so much concern.

Lieutenant Howe explained th
at, once they chased the Rebel to the outskirts of Merrindale, he was joined by a new companion.

“Did you see this other person?”
Crusher asked.

“N
ot clearly. But it was someone young. A boy.”

He felt
the eyes in the courtroom turning toward him, scrutinizing him.

“Could you describe the boy you saw
? His height. His size.”

“He had brown hair, cut just above his shoulders
. Medium height. Slim but sturdy build.”

“An exact description of the boy who now stands on trial, isn’t it?”

He wanted to protest. That vague description could have described any number of boys in the village. But he was not allowed to speak, and none were permitted to speak for him.

“Yes,” Lieutenant Howe answered
. “He fits the description perfectly.”

The Prosecutor smiled
. “You may step down.”

The next witness
was Mykah. As he walked to the front of the courtroom, their eyes briefly met. He felt ashamed. Mykah undoubtedly knew his friend had lied to him, had prevented him from finding the Old Man in the cellar.

Mykah
explained that he’d been sent out with all the other available Sentry to scour the village for the Rebel. They’d searched houses, alleys, and stores when Mykah remembered that the Adkins home had a storage cellar behind it.

“What happened when you b
rought your platoon to the cellar?”

“After announcing myself, I led the group down the steps
. We found Daman Adkins and...a young girl.”

“Who was this girl?”

“I do not know. I never saw her face.”

Now
Mykah was the one lying–to protect Brita.

“What were they doing?”

“They...” Mykah craned his neck awkwardly. “They appeared to be kissing.”

Crusher waited for the stir in the courtroom to pass
. “You thought they were engaged in an unauthorized display of affection?”

“I did, yes
. And Daman told me he had not seen the Rebel.”

“And because Daman Adkins was your friend, you left without searching the cellar.”

“That’s true, sir. I did.”

Crusher folded his arms across his chest
. “You realize now that Daman Adkins lied to you, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You realize that your friend—and probably this girl as well—were part of the Resistance, and that they intentionally misled you to prevent you from discovering the enemy of the Sentinel.”

“I do.”

“You allowed the Old Man to escape—however briefly—because you had feelings of friendship. But you must now see that ideas like friendship are of no value to the Black Sentry.  That you must do the will of the Sentinel without regard for such trivialities.  Don’t you?”

“Yes,”
Mykah said firmly. “I do now.”

Crusher nodded curtly
. “You may step down.”

He
could not look at Mykah as he left the courtroom. He knew Mykah felt betrayed. He had endangered Mykah’s career almost before it had begun. Even more than before, Daman felt that a stone wall fell between them, one never likely to be breached.

Crusher called
another member of the Sentry. He was tall and athletic, but with a frightening countenance. His name was James Kent. He was the man who led the platoon that burst into their home and found the Old Man.

“What did you do when you spotted the Rebel?” the Prosecutor asked.

“At first we surrounded the house.”

“And then
?”

“
The rear door was blocked, so we all came around to the front and eventually forced our way inside.”

“Did you find the Rebel?”

“Apparently, he escaped through the rear while we struggled to enter the front.”

“Why did you not pursue him?”

“We tried. But as we passed through the room, someone held us back, bombarding us with anything at hand.”

“And who was this attacker?”

Kent pointed toward Daman’s father. “The baker. Martin Adkins.”

“Was he protecting the Old Man?”

“I thought so at first. But the Old Man had already departed. Mister Adkins later explained he did not know the Rebel hid in his home. I believe it was the boy who admitted the Rebel without his parents’ knowledge or consent. I believe Mister Adkins panicked when he saw the Sentry burst through his door. He thought the Sentry had come for him.”

“Regrettable,” Crusher
pronounced. “But understandable.”

He
felt a wave of relief flood through him. As long as they believed that–his father should be safe.

“Were you able to subdue Mister Adkins?”

“Of course. And a few moments later we captured the Old Man as well.”

“You may step down
. And now,” the Prosecutor said, “there remains to be called but a single witness.”

The prosecutor
turned suddenly and glared down at him. “And that witness, young Master Adkins, is you.”

15

Daman steeled himself as he sat in the witness chair. He knew the questioning would be relentless. He had to remain strong.

“We have many
questions for you,” Crusher said. “You will tell us everything.”

He
looked away from the crowd, trying to block those penetrating eyes out of his mind.

“I have already told
you everything, sir,” he replied.

“You will address me as Prosecutor, boy.”

There was a slight stirring. “Actually,” the Acolyte said, in a tranquil, serene voice, “I believe I should act as Prosecutor from this point forward.”

Crusher was
obviously surprised. “You?”

The Acolyte spread wide his hands
. “Of course. It is my right, as senior representative of the Sentinel. If you have an objection—”

“No
, no,” Crusher said hastily. “Of course not.” As surprised as he might be, he knew better than to challenge the Acolyte’s authority. “Do you wish me to continue the interrogation?”

“Of course,” the Acolyte said generously
. “Please do. Although I may interrupt from time to time.”

Crusher bowed his head obedi
ently, then returned his attention to his witness. “You will tell us everything you know about the Rebel you sheltered in your cellar.”

He
had already decided that, so far as was possible without endangering others, he would tell the truth. This seemed the best plan, because he worried that if he were caught up in a web of falsehoods, they might disbelieve him and once again accuse his father. Therefore, he gave them a reasonably truthful account of meeting the Old Man and running from the Black Sentry. He omitted the encounter with the Creeper and everything he had learned about the hideous beasts, instead suggesting that they’d had the good fortune not to encounter any.

“You must live a charmed life,” Crusher said
. “In the generations since the protective fences were erected, few have ever ventured into the Creepers’ forest and lived to tell of it.”

“
I’ve always been lucky,” he said, and left it at that. But he noticed that the Acolyte peered at him most intently.

“Why did you help this Rebel when he appea
red unexpectedly?” Crusher asked.

“I don’t know
. There was little time to think.”

“
Do you harbor enmity toward the Sentinel?”

“Then or now?
”

The
gallery stirred.

“Then.”

“I was not aware of any enmity. I simply saw a man being hunted like an animal and tried to help him.”

“And now?”

“Now I have seen my father hurt and humiliated by the Sentinel and his minions even though he is guilty of no crime. I can no longer in good conscience say that the Laws and Ways of the Sentinel are infallible because I have seen that they are not.”

A stunned silence fell over the courtroom
. Words such as his had never been heard in this village, certainly not in any public proceeding. Several of the men in the gallery shouted for an immediate Ritual of Execution.

But he noted that
some of the others sat quietly, as if perhaps his words had affected them in quite a different way.

He glanced at his parents
. His mother pressed one hand against her forehead. He supposed she was horrified by his words, and frightened by what she knew would be the inevitable result. His father’s expression was also grave, but he did not perceive any hint of shame. Perhaps he imagined it, but for a moment he thought perhaps his father even felt some pride that he had the courage to speak the truth.

“Tell us
what happened next,” Crusher prodded.

He
told them about returning to the village after night fell, eluding the Sentry, and making his way to the cellar. Of course, he omitted any mention of Brita.

“You knew that the man
you harbored was the Rebel the Acolyte had warned about, did you not?”

“I didn’
t
know
it,” he answered truthfully.

“You suspected
it was so.”

“Yes.”

“Nonetheless, you gave him aid and succor.”

“I gave him a place to sleep and food to eat.”

“And you made no report to the officials.”

“Why would I
? I’d never seen him do anything wrong. He committed no crime against me.”

Crusher
whipped back his hand and slapped him across the face. The blow stung. He felt water surging to his eyes. “Don’t play games with me, boy. You saw him being chased by the Black Sentry. You knew he was wanted.”

He
made no reply. Crusher’s words spoke for themselves.

“The
Sentry reported seeing a young girl in your cellar that night who helped you dissuade the Sentry from searching. Is that true?”

“It is.”

“And who was this girl?”

He
hesitated.

“Was it a girl from the village?”

“No,” he answered. “Another stranger.”

“A member of this Resistance?”

“Yes.” Why not let them believe the Resistance was endless and everywhere?

“Are there more of these
Rebels?”

“More than you know,” he
answered quietly. “More than you can imagine.”

There was a
n audible rumble from the gallery.

“Are you now or have you ever been a member
of the Resistance?”

“No,” he
answered.

“Then
answer this,” said the Acolyte, raising his voice, “if you had the chance to join this Resistance, would you?”

He
thought a long time before answering. “I don’t know.”

“Did y
ou tell your parents what you’d done?”

“Never,” he
said firmly. He had to make them believe it. “I told them nothing. Because I knew that if I did, they would not approve, and they would make an immediate report to the Black Sentry, as required by the Laws and Ways.”

“And y
et, you gave the Old Man food—”

“I stole it
. My parents did not know. They have always respected the Sentinel’s Laws.”

“Let
me ask you another question. Do you feel any shame for having betrayed the Sentinel? Do you feel any remorse?”

“I’m sorry my actions caused harm to my father
. And my mother.”

“But the Sentinel, boy
. What about the Sentinel?”

He
knew what the smartest answer to this question would be, but somehow he found himself saying something altogether different. He had an opportunity to do more, an opportunity he shouldn’t—
couldn’t
—let pass. “The Sentinel is a cruel master who forces people to do his bidding without regard for their own needs or well-being.”

The roar from the gallery was loud, but Crusher managed to make his voice even louder
. “Then you are an enemy of the Sentinel,” he bellowed, pointing a finger. “You hope to destroy him.”

“I have never made any plan
s against the Sentinel, nor wanted to. But if I could find a way to restore freedom to the people of Merrindale, I would.”

“Meaning
you would destroy our orderly society.”

“There can be no freedom so long as the
Sentinel dictates every aspect of our lives.” He turned toward the gallery. “We do not have to live like this!”

Crusher grabbed him and shoved
him back into his seat. Everyone in the courtroom tried to speak at once. The proceeding became chaotic until the Acolyte cut in, silencing Crusher and the crowd with a single gesture. “The evidence is clear. This examination is concluded.”

Crusher tried to protest
. “But I still—”

The Acolyte’s eyes blazed
.

Crusher
stepped back to the raised platform and retook his seat. “The examination is concluded.”

“And I assume there are no
other witnesses,” the Acolyte said.

Crusher shook his head
. “I see no need. What more proof could you want? What more could any court want? The boy’s guilt is clear. You have confessed it yourself, Daman Adkins.”

“
That is not true. I wish to speak on my own behalf.”

The Acolyte did not even look at him
. “Denied.”

“But surely I have the right
—”

“Silence.
” Again, the Acolyte made the slashing gesture that brought immediate quiet. “You have said quite enough. You are not to speak another word. If he tries to do so, I instruct the Sentry to gag him.”

As the panel decided his fate
, he stared out into the crowd. For the first time, he found some eyes willing to meet his. Was the Acolyte so afraid of his words that he could not even be permitted to speak?

The Acolyte spoke again
. “Rise, Martin Adkins.”

He
felt a clutching at his heart. What did the Acolyte want with his father?

“It is the decided opinion of this panel, having considered all the evidence put before us, that you have committed no crime and thus have not been charged
. You still bear some responsibility in this matter. You may be guilty of failing to properly instruct your son to obey the Laws and Ways of the Sentinel. But we find no evidence that you intentionally committed any act of treason. Therefore, you and your wife are free to go.”

Hi
s mother wrapped her arms around his father, a display of affection such as he had never witnessed between them before. Relief swept through his own heart as well.

“Daman Adkins, you will rise.”

He pushed himself to his feet. His knees trembled. He hoped he did not look as frightened as he felt.

“While your father may have acted without malice toward the Sentinel, and may at best be guilty of neglig
ent disregard, you are quite a different matter. Despite being not yet sixteen years of age, you hold great hatred and disrespect for the Laws and Ways of the Sentinel. You have no sense of right and wrong, and you deliberately and with malice aforethought took actions that you knew aided the enemies of the Sentinel. It is apparent to this panel that you are a young man with no conscience, a young man capable of unspeakable offenses against our orderly way of life.”

The courtroom was deathly quiet
. “You cannot be allowed to live in consort with civilized men. You are a contaminating influence, a danger to the peace of the village. Therefore, despite your young age, you must receive the maximum sentence. The Ritual of Execution.”

A gasp went up
—from his mother. Everyone else knew this verdict was inevitable. Perhaps she did, too, but tried to tell herself otherwise.   

“Tonight,” the Acolyte continu
ed, “there will be a ceremony of worship and rededication in the Arena. Let all those who are loyal to the Sentinel come and prove it with reverence and charity. We will know who our friends are—and by their omission, our enemies.”

The Black Sentry guarding him clam
ped their hands down on his shoulders. Without waiting for him to rise, they jerked him out of the witness chair and hauled him through the courtroom. None of the villagers spoke as he passed through the gallery. His father acted as if he wanted to, but he never had a chance.

The last sight he
had was of his mother, her face buried in wet hands.