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7. Punishment
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 06:28:02 +0000 UTC“You did this,” Erin exhaled as she aimed the crossbow.
“Erin?”
Jumping, her finger slipped. The bolt shot free and was lost into the darkness of the waning day. A second later, an agonizing scream echoed into the brisk evening air.
“What was that?” The boy asked, rushing to the wall’s edge and looking out.
Erin’s gaze shifted between him and the shadowy clearing—lined by a faint ruby haze.
Two unmakable figures rushed over as Radic shouted profanities. And after a moment that seemed to stretch forever, they came carrying the boy over their shoulders through the gate—calling for Mira.
“Is that a bolt?” the boy at her side said, narrowing his gaze on the wounded Radic as he was carried into the fort with a bolt protruding from his thigh.
Erin nodded, her gaze fixated on Radic as he was carried toward Mira’s cabin.
“Where’s your bolt?” The boy said, staring at her crossbow.
Backstepping, Erin shook her head. “Umm–It’s… it’s–”
“Imperator, Arms-Matster!” The boy cupped his mouth and shouted. His eyes locked on Erin’s.
**Imperator**
Mark rubbed his temples as he paced his cabin until the expected knock at his door came.
“Come in.”
Henric and another acolyte escorted Erin into his cabin—her wrists shackled. “She’s the one.”
“Leave us,” Mark waved with an irritated sigh. Henric nodded and gestured for the acolyte to follow with a tilt of his head.
Erin stood staring at her feet.
“Why?”
“Imperator–”
“Answer the question, please.”
Erin looked up, her gaze trembling, “I-I…he’s the one,” she swallowed. “The one that beat Acolyte Callum.”
I thought so. Still, she needs punishment.
“Do you have evidence of this?”
Erin nodded, “Clay was with him. He saw it all.”
“And Acolyte Callum will testify to this?”
Erin’s eyes dropped to her feet.
“I take that’s a no. My goodness, Erin,” Mark sighed. “Did you really think shooting a fellow acolyte was the best way to handle this? Why didn’t you come to me first?”
“I tried… but when Clay refused, I-I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t just let him get away with what he did. My friend, he’s…”
“I know. Do you think I don’t understand Acolyte Callum’s situation? But we’re heading into winter, Acolyte. Do you think we won’t have difficult decisions to make? What you’ve done is commit a serious offense. Even if I wanted to let you go unpunished, I wouldn’t be able to. Peace and stability need to be fostered within the fort. And that requires consequences.”
“What about him? What about his consequences?” Erin lurched forward. “Even Mira said he got lucky. The bolt didn’t hit anything serious. He could be back on his feet within a month. All while Callum is still unconscious.”
“I haven’t forgotten about Callum or Radic, Erin. But you can’t just go taking the law into your own hands. You should have come to me and shared what you knew.”
Mark walked over to his desk, sighed, and dropped into his chair. The law was clear. Erin should suffer as her victim did. But not only did he empathize with her, but a part of him wished he could have been the one to maim Radic. Not only that, but he had no interest in wounding yet another acolyte. Three was already far too many with winter approaching.
Staring down at the mess of journals and notebooks, Mark got an idea. What if he could use Erin’s punishment to their benefit?
“I have no real evidence of Radic’s crime, and it would be a bad look to punish him now after being injured—unless some were to fall into my lap. If acolyte Clay has a change of heart, we can talk. But for now, we have to focus on your punishment. And I’ve got a proposal for you.”
Erin’s brow creased as her gaze drifted up.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the ferals heading south.”
Erin nodded.
“This poses serious problems for us. As you may know, Master Mira relies on them to collect the reagents she requires for her medicines. There’s no alternative, she’s informed me. Not to mention our own problems with collecting enough food for the coming winter. And seeing that you’re already familiar with the ferals, I thought maybe you could assist with these issues.”
“How?” Erin murmured.
“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. Imperium law states that your punishment should be equal to your crime. But we can’t afford more injuries. However, I don’t think anyone would complain if I were to ban you from the fort temporarily.”
Gasping, Erin cupped her mouth.
Mark looked up from his notes, “I’ll do my best to support you. I need you to make contact with the ferals. I’ll have Mira’s apprentice head out of the fort twice daily. If you need to talk to me or need any goods for trading, you can ask him. Your objective is to find useful and reliable ferals with which to trade. And, if possible, find out if we can convince any of them to stay. Build positive relations with them, if you can.”
“Convince them to stay?” Erin twisted her head.
“Yes, we can’t afford all the ferals to head south. We haven’t anywhere near the manpower to keep this fort standing through the winter. Without them, we’re lost.”
Slowly, Erin nodded.
“Good. I understand this might be asking a bit much. And if you can’t do it, I won’t hold it against you. But it would aid us greatly.”
As Erin left, Mark flicked open his book of law. He had been going over his thoughts. Ideas on how to fix the problems ahead—and continuously returned to one page.
The role of Tribune.
When the Imperator cannot uphold Imperium Law, he or she may elevate someone/s of their choosing to the position of Tribune to uphold the Imperium’s law on their behalf.
While being made Tribune does not elevate one’s position in the Holy Hierarchy, it ordains them with the holy rite to uphold Imperium law.
The passage went on, but this was what he lingered on. Tapping his finger against the page.
**Acolytes**
Forcing a smile, Erin pulled back the bandages. Dober gritted his teeth, holding the groan in.
“What’s wrong? I’m the one in pain. Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” He grunted.
“It’s nothing,” Erin said without looking up as she dabbed a clean cloth on the wound.”
“It is. You’ve been here every day since the attack. And I’ve never seen your eyes this glassy.”
“I did something stupid, that’s all.”
“What? What’d you do, Erin?”
“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine. But you’re not going to see me for a little while. They let me change your bandage once more. I wanted to make sure you were doing better.”
“Seriously, Erin. What’s going on?”
“It’s less swollen. The redness is receding, and that gross green stuff is gone. Based on what Master Mira told me, you’re healing up nicely.”
“Erin.”
She turned to him and forced a smile. “Look after Callum while I’m gone, okay?”
“Where are you going? What in the God-Lord's name is going on?”
“I’m just going away for a bit. Like I said. I’ll see you soon. Just promise me you’ll look after Callum.”
Dober had been told about what happened to Callum. Unlike Dober, Callum still rested in Mira’s cabin, while Dober had spent most of his recovery in Cabin SMarkr—the cabin the four shared.
“How’s he doing, anyway?”
“Dunno much,” Erin frowned, her gaze drifting back down to the wound as she prepared a clean bandage. “They still won’t let me see him.”
“So, that’s it? You’re not going to tell me what’s happening?”
“You’ll find out,” Erin’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Anyway, I’m done here.”
**Imperator**
Gathered by the fort’s gates, the acolytes crowded around Mark, Henric, and Erin. At the back of the crowd, Mira stood watch, and Radic leaned on an acolyte’s shoulder.
“I’ve gathered you all here to witness my law. The law of the Imperium,” Mark said to the crowd. “The punishment for a crime must equal the weight of the crime committed. I have deliberated on this. Caring for another wounded is the last thing we need. Therefore, the punishment I shall bestow on Acolyte Erin is a month of banishment from the fort. She will be provided with basic supplies as this is not a death penalty.”
The crowd fell quiet as Mark’s gaze swept across the uneasy visages. It was obvious that the kids would rather be shot in the leg than banned from the fort. This was what he had hoped for—an end to the mounting tensions and, hopefully, a resolution to one of his problems.
“Anything to say for yourself, Acolyte Erin?”
Eyes locked to her feet, she shook her head.
“Master-At-Arms,” Mark nodded.
Henric waved to the two acolytes that remained at the gate, and the timber groaned as the gate pulled open.
Mark stepped to Erin’s side and reduced his voice to a whisper, “I know I’m asking a lot from you. But be careful out there. I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t important.
Erin lifted her gaze and nodded, “I will be.”
“Are you sure that was wise, Imperator?” Henric said as the crowd dispersed. “She’s just a kid. Sixteen if the records are correct, and her attribute tests aren’t anything special. She’s going to die out there.”
“Have some faith. There’s a strength to her, don’t you think?”
“She’s still a kid, and frontiers are known to take the lives of experienced, grown men.”
“I’m aware. But we can’t keep increasing the number of our wounded. We’re going to have to start being more creative,” Mark said, patting Henric’s shoulder as he passed him.
***
Allowing Erin to take a crossbow would have likely been seen in bad taste after what happened. But Mark wasn’t about to leave her to the wolves unarmed.
Back in his cabin, Mark took a leather sleeve and placed a crossbow, quiver of bolts, a dagger, and deer jerky into it and wrapped it up. Minutes later, Erald knocked on his door, and he handed it to the boy.
“Remind her if she needs anything, she only needs to ask.”
“Yes, sir,” Erald saluted and took the leather wrap.
“Alright, off you go.”
**Acolytes**
“You’re standing!” Clay said, rushing over to Dober as he hobbled out of the cabin with a wood stick under his arm.
“What do you want?”
Clay stopped, “Dober?”
“Leave me alone.”
“I was just–”
“Just what? I know what you did,” Dober bent his brow at Clay and shook his head. “I always knew you were soft, but this?”
“It’s not how it looks…” Clay trailed off.
“Like the God-Slave, it isn’t. Word travels fast in the fort. Everyone’s talking. Erin and I might not have agreed on everything, but at least she’s not a coward.”
“Where are you going?”
“Where is she?” Dober growled as he struggled to walk, pausing to catch his breath as he leaned on one crutch.
“She’s already gone. It happened this morning.”
“Where?”
“Imperator Atlas banished her from the fort for a month…”
“He what?” Dober’s eyes widened. “She’s out there alone? What are we standing around for? We need to do something,” he added, almost falling as he pushed himself into a crippled jog.
“Take it easy,” Clay rushed forward. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere.”
“If I don’t, who will?” Dober snapped. “Not you, obviously.”
***
Hiding beneath the shade of an evergreen, its wiry green leaves piercing through the blanket of snow that covered it, Erin eyed the fort.
Even though she was barely outside the view from the fort’s walls, she felt more vulnerable than ever. She didn’t doubt that if someone attacked her and she ran toward the walls, her fellow acolytes would take aim at them, but it helped little to overcome her own feeling of helplessness.
Slipping through a side gate, she spotted the tall, lanky form of Erald.
About time.
Her gaze followed him as he awkwardly trudged through the snow and the deceptively hidden undergrowth beneath it that swallowed every second step.
As he neared, she could hear him muttering curses beneath his breath and panting.
“Erin,” he called, somewhere between a whisper and a shout. “Erin!”
“Shh,” Erin hissed from beneath the tree. “Over here,” she mouthed with a wave.
Erald nodded and fought through the snowy foliage, falling against the ground and rolling to his back as her chest heaved.
“Trying to get us caught? And seriously, you need to exercise more.”
“I know,” Erald panted. “And sorry. I don’t get out much.”
“Cushy being one of the master’s apprentices.”
“It comes with its perks.”
“So, what’d he give you?”
“One moment,” Erald grunted and pulled himself up. Unbuckling a strap from beneath his robes, he produced the leather wrap and a bottle. “From the Imperator and Master Mira,” he added, passing them to Erin.
“Rum?” Erin tilted her head as she brought the bottle up to her eyes.
“More valuable than you might imagine out here.”
“Right,” she said, placing it against the tree trunk and unraveling the leather wrap. “A crossbow, really?” A smile creased her lips, drilling dimples into her cheeks.
“Best make sure nobody sees that. Radic and the others won’t be happy.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Erin shot him a half-lidded glance. Taking the dagger, she tightened it into her belt and stowed the jerk in pouches beneath her robe.
“Well, I’m done here. Good luck,” Erald said, but as he climbed to his feet, Erin’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back down. A shriek attempted to escape his lips but was shortened into a muffled cry as Erin’s hand cupped his mouth.
“Shh, look,” she whispered, and Erald went quiet.
Through the trees opposite the fort, a figure shrouded in torn, dark rags and mismatched furs sat atop a horse. Several ferals gathered around, and they appeared to be talking. The figure nodded, turned its steed, and whipped on its reigns, galloping off into the snowy forest.
“What was that?” Erald muttered as Erin released her grip.
