Broken Justice: Twenty-Two

The forum of justice disgorged its occupants into the open plaza leading to the Magistrate’s house of white marble. Bunched close together, the main group of cloaked revelers staggered toward the Magistrate’s front doors. At the head of the motley assemblage, the house guards could see the Magistrate and the King of Rurr, arms locked around one another’s necks. The guards had heard the three notes that signaled the end of the trial, but had not expected the Magistrate’s return so soon. From the crowd came drunken, off-key snatches of a song that resembled the anthem of Rurr.
Perhaps the victory celebrations had come early. The guards threw open the doors.
Within moments, the champions had shed their cloaks and fell upon the guards like justice long denied. Qaansoole led several champions deep into the house’s inner halls in search of the child hostages. Sabit clambered up the marble stairs to seize the upper storey. Illi kept a meaty hand on the Magistrate and the King of Rurr, bound tightly together with sturdy ropes.
Standing in a high balcony, Sabit could see a curl of black smoke rising from the distant dormitory of hostages. A moment later, she spied a group of men striding toward the Magistrate’s house from that direction. In the lead was Allamu, a broad smile on his face.
Qaansoole joined Sabit on the balcony, her son on her hip. “We have won much this day. Without the forum, Vert will once more decay into ruins.”
The spear woman turned. “Perhaps it will. Perhaps it will reclaim its glory. But whatever happens, we can be assured that justice is no longer for sale.”

Wayfarings of Sabit: Broken Justice is copyright (c) 2016 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: or