Zelosus
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Reciprocating the unflinching trust, Athamé rose immediately from the floor where she'd been crouching and hurried to her armoire to clothe her nakedness, donning but a simple robe sans any elaborate accoutrements. It was not a moment later that she'd turned to face him at the door again, when suddenly there was thrust to the middle of the floor toward her, a body that crumpled to a heap, unable to throw its arms down to cushion the blow. Intead, it smacked dully against the wood like a fish out of water. And once again, Demetrius cried out in pain as he attempted to writhe himself into sitting upright.
It was only when Athamé had realized who he was, and there was writ across her countenance a look of abject shock, that Vedric grandly gestured toward her with a rather wry grin, "There she is, Arian. All yours." And as he lifted his grey eyes, gazing now into the woman's without even a hint given her, he added, "A deal is a deal, Demetrius. I have kept up my end of the bargain and I expect to be paid."
The wounded wretch upon the floor had had her before, at least once. This much the Metal Worker had known all along... ever since that fateful night on Four Lamp Street. For he had referred to her as 'that whore,' in several different breaths. And such is not the typical rosy endearment one bestows upon a free woman, especially not one joined to a companion and growing with child. What seemed even more evident to Vedric, was that not only had Demetrius been with her, but it was clear the fellow had been somehow spurned by her and took from her flesh his retribution -- the man had raped her.
In their subsequent discourse Vedric had pulled confessions from them both, managing with a few clever manipulations of his own, to turn Demetrius into the accused defendant, and Athamé the witness for the prosecution. In a matter of moments it had turned sour and ugly as the truth spilled out. The Scribe had been disinherited and disenfranchised. He was dirt broke with not a copper tarskbit to his lying name. Also this woman had just been turned over to him by the very Metal Worker whom he'd sought to strike a bargain with all those months ago, and Demetrius had no wherewithal to pay what he owed. And furthermore, the former jail bird seemed to be hugely indebted now to the Seer's own father. No, not for rape merely. It was much more complicated than that. Demetrius had outright stolen from Xanthom, usurping a high dowry price the man would've been entitled to, had he a virgin daughter with which to bargain.
"I only want to know how much your first companion's dowry was, Lady," said the one who appeared on the surface only, the least civil of the three. Appearances however, are very often deceiving. And upon determining that he, Vedric had become head of her house by default for those few days, it also became his place to pass judgement and sentencing upon Demetrius, the accused. For theft, he was now indebted to Xanthom exactly twice the lady's first companionship price, thus fixing her virginal dowry at the rate of two chalices brimming over with priceless gems.
For failure to arrive with the agreed-upon rate of one purse filled with silver tarsks, the Lady was to be held in lieu by the court. For breaking and entering, he had paid suffiently already by having both his shoulders twisted from their sockets. And last of all for his aggrivated rape and assault against the Lady Athamé Inamorata, the partial forfeiture of his offending apparatus was deemed sufficient. Too, it was given to Demetrius' accusor the right to plead mercy on his behalf... she being the only free, property-owning consortium with that legal right. The woman's lips however, fell silent, entering no plea at all on behalf of the accused.
Down the stairs in the courtyard, the Scribe was castrated. Justice had been served and all parties to the victim rendered satisfied, paid in full. Athamé had been privy to see with her own eyes, that the swift arm of this makeshift martial law had exacted immediate retribution upon her assailant. Demetrius screamed and writhed below her til he fell silent from shock and his blood now bathed the blackened surface of her ceremonial dagger as well as the large and calloused hands of the Metal Worker.
Never again. He shall want you never again, my angel.
It was only when Athamé had realized who he was, and there was writ across her countenance a look of abject shock, that Vedric grandly gestured toward her with a rather wry grin, "There she is, Arian. All yours." And as he lifted his grey eyes, gazing now into the woman's without even a hint given her, he added, "A deal is a deal, Demetrius. I have kept up my end of the bargain and I expect to be paid."
The wounded wretch upon the floor had had her before, at least once. This much the Metal Worker had known all along... ever since that fateful night on Four Lamp Street. For he had referred to her as 'that whore,' in several different breaths. And such is not the typical rosy endearment one bestows upon a free woman, especially not one joined to a companion and growing with child. What seemed even more evident to Vedric, was that not only had Demetrius been with her, but it was clear the fellow had been somehow spurned by her and took from her flesh his retribution -- the man had raped her.
In their subsequent discourse Vedric had pulled confessions from them both, managing with a few clever manipulations of his own, to turn Demetrius into the accused defendant, and Athamé the witness for the prosecution. In a matter of moments it had turned sour and ugly as the truth spilled out. The Scribe had been disinherited and disenfranchised. He was dirt broke with not a copper tarskbit to his lying name. Also this woman had just been turned over to him by the very Metal Worker whom he'd sought to strike a bargain with all those months ago, and Demetrius had no wherewithal to pay what he owed. And furthermore, the former jail bird seemed to be hugely indebted now to the Seer's own father. No, not for rape merely. It was much more complicated than that. Demetrius had outright stolen from Xanthom, usurping a high dowry price the man would've been entitled to, had he a virgin daughter with which to bargain.
"I only want to know how much your first companion's dowry was, Lady," said the one who appeared on the surface only, the least civil of the three. Appearances however, are very often deceiving. And upon determining that he, Vedric had become head of her house by default for those few days, it also became his place to pass judgement and sentencing upon Demetrius, the accused. For theft, he was now indebted to Xanthom exactly twice the lady's first companionship price, thus fixing her virginal dowry at the rate of two chalices brimming over with priceless gems.
For failure to arrive with the agreed-upon rate of one purse filled with silver tarsks, the Lady was to be held in lieu by the court. For breaking and entering, he had paid suffiently already by having both his shoulders twisted from their sockets. And last of all for his aggrivated rape and assault against the Lady Athamé Inamorata, the partial forfeiture of his offending apparatus was deemed sufficient. Too, it was given to Demetrius' accusor the right to plead mercy on his behalf... she being the only free, property-owning consortium with that legal right. The woman's lips however, fell silent, entering no plea at all on behalf of the accused.
Down the stairs in the courtyard, the Scribe was castrated. Justice had been served and all parties to the victim rendered satisfied, paid in full. Athamé had been privy to see with her own eyes, that the swift arm of this makeshift martial law had exacted immediate retribution upon her assailant. Demetrius screamed and writhed below her til he fell silent from shock and his blood now bathed the blackened surface of her ceremonial dagger as well as the large and calloused hands of the Metal Worker.
Never again. He shall want you never again, my angel.
