Chapter 2

The pain in her shoulders woke her. She still hung with her hands bound above her head, but instead of being cold, she was warm. She could hear the sound of a fire crackling in the background. With a start, she realized that her clothes were gone. She hung naked from a ceiling, her feet dangling above the floor. She shivered with fear. A Magister ... an Agent of high justice that answered only to the Emperor. She had tried to steal the pouch that contained the seal that could shatter the life of anyone in the Empire. A seal, that on a document could strip the titles and lands from the highest lords in the Empire. Or sentence a lowly thief to death.

A small groan of pain escaped her lips as she tried to lessen some of the tension in her arms. She heard footsteps behind her and a hand touched her shoulder. She shuddered involuntarily in terror at the touch.

“Ah, so my little thief awakens,” the low menacing voice said. “I think it’s time we were introduced little thief.”

The hand left her shoulder, and she heard movement behind her. She dropped slowly, and her feet touched the floor. The tension left her shoulders and she stumbled. She felt a hand at her elbow and her hands were dropped down in front of her. The blindfold was removed from her eyes, and she glanced quickly around, trying to determine her location. She was in a medium sized room. There was a large bed against the wall, and a stout table with two chairs. The table had a pitcher with some dark liquid in it and a large bowl of soup or stew with a loaf of bread sitting beside it. She glanced up and saw rafters, and a rope still hung there.

She turned her head to the side and looked at her captor. He was dressed in the black travelling leathers of a warrior. A long dagger hung at his side still and she saw that a longsword hung on a belt of the back of one of the chairs. He had long hair, pulled back into a warriors braid, and had a bit of a bear, but neatly trimmed.

Her captor moved her with a firm push over to the table.

“Sit.” He pull one of the chairs away from the table and manoeuvred her not so gently and with a little shove the back of her knees hit the edge of the chair and she sat with a thud in the chair. She pulled her bound hands in tight to her chest, doing her best to cover her breasts.

“So, rather than call you little thief, I’d like to have your name girl.”

“Alasara Miller, sir.”

“Well Alasara, you are in a great deal of trouble, if you haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Yes sir, I re-realized th-that,” she stammered with fear.

“My name is Damien. I am a Magister. Do you know what that is girl?”

“Y-you serve the Emperor sir,.”

“Indeed I do. And the pouch you tried to steal contained my seal. As I said before, the penalty for theft of a Magister’s seal is death. Now, I’ll put your mind slightly at ease. I will not order you put to death for an act of what is obviously desperation. How long has it been since you’ve eaten girl?”

“Three days sir.”

“And why are you on the streets girl? You are obviously not a whore. Your disguise was clever and the marks on your body indicate your are not a particularly good thief. Where did you get the bruises on your ribs?”

“I tried to lift the purse of an armsman a few days ago. He thought I was a beggar boy and beat me badly and left me in an alleyway.”

“Back to my previous question. Why are you on the streets?”

“I have nowhere else sir. My family was killed in a fire several weeks ago. And the local Lord at the proceedings ordered me to the nunnery. I could not go there. They take a vow of silence, and are locked away. I’d rather die. So I ran away. I’ve been on the streets for several weeks.”

“Yes, that was evident. Your clothing was disgusting. I had the tavern keeper burn it.”

“B-but that was all I had sir,” she sobbed.

“Well, as a convicted criminal, you will have your clothes provided for you, Alasara.”

“Convicted?”

“You tried to steal my seal. I hold the power and duty to judge. You are convicted of theft. I just need to file the papers with the local court. The only thing remaining is what your sentence will be. I am currently considering my options. Rest assured, it will be harsh, but fair. You will end up much better off when I am done with you girl.”

Damien sat down in the other chair, and poured some of the dark liquid into the wooden cup. He held it to her lips. “It’s wine. Drink.” She took a gulp of the liquid and it hit her empty stomach. The warmth of the alcohol spread rapidly. “Oh... “ It had been a long time since she had even had watered wine, let along a full strength red wine. This was better than anything her parents had ever given her.

He muttered a series of words and a glow appeared on his hands. Her eyes went wide with shock and wonder. Magic, being done right in front of her ... With a final emphatic phrase and a quick gesture the glow jumped from his hands and hit her. She felt a slight tingle, but nothing more.

“That is a tracer spell. Wherever you go now, I can find you, so there is no point in running. Not likely you would get far in your current state. I’m going to undo your hands. Then I want you to eat some of the stew and have half of the wine. In your state don’t eat too fast. I don’t want you throwing up.”

“C-can I have something to wear?”

“Not yet. The landlord sent his wife home to get you a shift to sleep in. You can wear it once she brings it. After you eat we’ll discuss your sentencing options. Much of what happens after that depends upon the results of that discussion. Now eat girl. I don’t want you passing out on me. Trust me, you are going to need your strength over the next several hours, and over the next several days until you adjust to your new circumstances.” With that he got up and undid the bindings on her hands. He noted the rope marks had turned her wrists bright red.

Damian walked over to the bed and pulled off his leather armour vest, and unbuckled his bracers, and placed them at the foot of the bed. He wore a black silk shirt under his armour. He then sat down on the bed. He slipped another dagger out of a sheath in his boot and put it on the small table at the head of the bed, and then removed his boots. He watched her as she ate the stew. She had finished about half of it already.

“OK, that’s enough food for now, much more and you will probably be sick.” He walked over and sat down in the chair opposite her, and took the wooden cup and poured more wine into it.

“I understand you are scared. Terrified probably covers it. But I am a fair man. To be honest, if there were no witnesses, I probably would have brought you up to this room, given you a sound beating for your insolence, and sent you on your way to another town with a small purse and a letter of recommendation to go work for someone as a servant or some such. But there were several witnesses, and many in this town know that I am a Magister. I have dealt with several serious miscreants in this town before, and I’m here to deal with one with a soul blacker than you can probably comprehend. Do you know the punishment for thievery in the Empire?”

“Yes sir. A whipping.”

“And how severe of a whipping would you be in for girl?”

“It depends on the value of what I stole sir.”

“Exactly. Often judicial whippings can be fatal for severe cases, if they are not carried out over several sessions, and the scarring is horrible. Now, how old are you?”

“I’m nineteen sir.”

“Well, that’s one small thing in your favour. The sentences for those who have not seen their twentieth are lighter. You are still considered a minor child for that. Unfortunately for you, you have no guardian to speak for you. The penalty for thievery here is twelve strokes with an additional dozen for every gold piece worth of value of goods stolen. And do you have any idea of the value of a Magister’s seal?”

“N-no sir.”

“The value the Emperor has set on them is five thousand gold pieces. So you would be due for many thousands of lashes. Most courts would just sentence you to death, as it would be a kinder punishment. Now, I have already told you that I will not sentence a starving girl to death for thievery. Many Judges would not either, but you would be sold into a lifetime of slavery for certain.” She sobbed quietly at the news, her head downcast.

“I have another thought Alasara.” He reached out and touched her chin gently, tipping her head up so she looked him in the eye. “I am not so cruel as that Alasara. As I said, your punishment will be harsh, but you shall be better off once I am done with you. That will, however, not be for some time unless the Emperor gainsays me, and I feel he will not. We would not find out for some time anyway, as it will be some months before I return to the capital, and none but the Emperor can over-ride my decision.” He reached down to the table and took a sip of the wine, then placed the cup on the table. He sat up very straight and the timbre of his voice became very official and commanding as opposed to the low bass tones that she had previously heard from him.

“I hereby pronounce your sentence, and it shall be carried out. You are sentenced to five years in custody as an Imperial ward. That means you are to obey all commands from Imperial officers and the Royal family without recourse to normal law and tradition. Any disobedience will be punished harshly and immediately with corporal punishment as your Guardian shall see fit. The sentence includes ten strokes of the whip or cane every day of your wardship to pay for the theft of the Imperial seal. The punishment may be lessened or forgiven on a daily basis based on your obedience and conduct. If you flee, your life is forfeit.”

Alasara shuddered, sobbing as Damian pronounced her punishment.

“Alasara.” He once again tipped her head up so she looked him in the eye. “So you know. For the next several months, I am your Guardian, and probably will remain so for the duration of your sentence. That means several important things that you need to know. Can you calm yourself enough that you will understand and remember my words?”

She took several deep breaths and calmed herself to the best of her ability. Small shudders continued, but she braced herself as best she could. “Y-yes sir.”

“If harm should come to me, you shall take yourself to the nearest lawman and pronounce yourself an Imperial ward, and let them know that your Guardian has come to harm. They will then conduct you to the Imperial Palace in the Capital and you will serve out the rest of your sentence in the Imperial Palace. Via magical means, your sentence will be transmitted to the Capital tonight. When I set my seal to the writ that documents your sentence, my seal will also record your sentence, and any sentence recorded on a Magister’s seal will be carried out regardless of the status of the Magister that pronounced the sentence. Now, as strange as this may seem, you will be receiving many benefits from being under my not so tender care. You shall rarely if ever go to bed hungry. Clothes, probably better than you have had before will be provided for you. And specifically, as my ward, you will almost certainly see parts of the Empire that you would never have seen even if your parents had not perished.”