The Gavel against the tide

THE GAVEL AGAINST THE TIDE Chapter 1. "All stand!" The command echoed through the white-painted hall. Gorrit rose with hundreds of others, sun streaming through the open roof onto his face. Courts were built open to the sky so nature herself could witness justice. Today was one of those days he wished for rain—for anything that might stop this. He looked across the hall. Goland stood on the dock, sweat glistening on his face despite the cool breeze from above. His brother's hands rested on the worn wood, fingers tracing the Cezarian crest carved there—the symbol of justice, peace, and truth. The crest they'd both defended their entire lives. There were stories of dragons descending on courtrooms after unjust verdicts, carrying corrupt Staffs away in their claws. No one knew if the stories were true. Maybe they were warnings. But no one had ever found the bodies. Gorrit could still see Goland teaching him to hold a sword. Back when the only thing they had to fear was their village's loathing for fatherless children. The Staff Moore ascended the silver Dias. As he sat, the court followed. Moore adjusted his glasses and opened his journal. He positioned the case documents carefully. "In light of all the hearings so far," his pen scratched across the page. "—this court, and the ethical system, finds Goland, Arch Commander of the Oericles of the Tedi ilk, guilty." A man from the Innocent section roared, "Yes!" Someone from the Tedi section groaned. The man caught himself, hand flying to his mouth, and turned forward quickly. The woman behind Gorrit couldn't control herself. She wept openly. Others bowed their heads and murmured. Moore lifted his gaze. The hall fell silent. He adjusted his glasses and read: "The perpetrator shall be tried by a thousand blades, bathed in a pool of ants, and fried in boiling oil." A woman screamed. Gorrit's eyes found Goland. His brother stood still in the dock. Their eyes met across the hall. Goland forced a smile. Tears burned behind Gorrit's eyes. He remembered being chased from their shelter when they were kids—cold, young, terrified. How Goland consoled him, saying, “Don't cry. If you cry, you've been defeated. Tears that stay in help you fight.” Gorrit squeezed his eyes shut. The words resounded in his head. When he opened them, he stood—right hand to chest, left hand behind his back. However, Moore wasn't finished. He cleared his throat. The weeping woman fell silent. He continued: "And his body shall know no soil. It shall be a burden to the beasts—their meal." Gorrit couldn't take it anymore. He didn't care if Moore was done. He straightened, sharpened his gaze, and said with a voice that carried to every corner of the hall: "Objection to the Staff. I seek redress." The people stirred a noise like a hive of hornets. Goland nodded in disagreement. Gorrit ignored. Moore took off his glasses and wiped his face with his white handkerchief. “Oericle, contain your excesses.” He dropped his glasses on the Dias and closed his book, "There is no redress after a verdict." Gorrit freed the Oericle stance and rubbed his hand on the seat in front of him. “I am aware, Lord Moore. But the law curtails that this verdict will not stand.” The murmur ceased, all eyes were on Moore. His fist was clenched, his brows curled. Deri, a man carrying the royal crest, stood holding the same stance Gorrit did. “Are you by any chance challenging the staff?” Gorrit looked back at him and breathed a sigh. He knew there was no turning back if he continued. But then again, so many eager eyes, one of them a family tie, depended on him. Turning around he said, “I'm standing by the law,” as his eyes found Moore. Moore smiled and put on his glasses. His pen tortured his journal once more. “You do realize I could have your head for this disregard,” the words left his mouth as his pen stopped jiggling. “Nature will take far more if we hold the laws in contempt, my lord.” His face was without expression, his eyes forgot to blink, “There is no verdict without a full hearing.” Moore’s smile had a history of being the calm before the storm. This time it also created a calm. The hall was without a sound, Gorrit's hands shook. He held them together tight behind him. Deri freed up his stance, “We have had two hearings in the Tedi ilk and this is the second being held here. What needs to be heard that hasn't?” Gorrit turned to Deri, “To the honor of the court, I was present when the innocent were attacked. I have information that could change the reins of the case.” He then returned his gaze to the Staff. Goland looked at Gorrit and nearly teared up again. A boy who I taught to hold a sword now fights for me, he thought. Moore looked at the journal and picked up his pen again, “Your testimony cannot be considered, for the blood ties that exist. Or do you now forget the law?”