Changed Circumstances Chapter 64 "Retribution"
This is a story of erotic fiction meant to be read by adults over the age of eighteen years
Written by Jean-Christophe October, 2014 My stories are archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories
"The characters and ideas contained in this story are products of the writer's imagination and bear no resemblance to actual persons or events. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add another's artwork or pictures"
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Chapter 64:
My late grandfather had numbered many judges among his friends and acquaintances although I can't recall if the elderly Judge Fitzwilliam was one of them. Anxiously, I watch as he takes his seat and the court is called to order.
Michael Stewart had told me the Honorable Henry Fitzwilliam is an old school, no nonsense type judge who runs a "tight ship" and true to that description he wastes little time in opening proceedings.
His first action is to address the court and to outline his course of action.
"Sadly, it's my melancholy duty to deal with a number of serious, criminal offences with which the four defendants are charged." His Honor pauses to peer accusingly over the top of his glasses at the four trembling prisoners in the dock. "Some of these are crimes against the state's laws while others relate to a grave miscarriage of justice perpetrated in another court just a few feet from my own courtroom and which, happily, it has fallen upon me to correct. But I will return to that in due course. Suffice to say that all the crimes of which the defendants are charged - while separate in themselves - do converge in a dastardly plot to injure an innocent man and deny him his freedom. I refer, of course, to Mr Lucien Barrois - and I warmly welcome you to my court, Mr Barrois - who is the innocent victim of the miscarriage of justice I referred to in my earlier remarks."
My heart soars! Even though Judge Fitzwilliam is still to rule in my favor his remarks confirm that I am free. And in welcoming me to his court as "Mr Barrois", he has given me back my true identity.
As his words resonate throughout the room, there is a spontaneous round of applause from the spectators' gallery. I can't help but contrast this with the hand-clapping and jeering of the crowd who'd celebrated my enslavement in Judge Matthew's courtroom three years ago.
Today's crowd is very different! These people are members of the "Save Rafe" group and my supporters. I am humbled by their show of support and - even though I know it has impinged upon the court's dignity - I deeply appreciate their actions. All my pent-up emotions are laid bare for them to see and suddenly I begin to weep. And as I struggle to regain my composure, Thor reaches out and cradles me in his arms. From the security of Thor's embrace, I hear the rapping of Judge Fitzwilliam's gavel and his request for order. I draw away from Thor and facing the judge, I apologize to him.
"I'm sorry for my outburst, your honor."
"You need not apologize to my court, Mr Barrois. Rather it is the courts which should apologize to you. I am mindful of your awful ordeal of the past three years and I can only imagine the emotions that you now feel. And your tears are perfectly understandable given the circumstances of the past twenty-four hours. However, I do wish to spare you a lengthy sitting before me and my intention is to be as quick as possible so that I can restore you to the companionship of your friends and supporters. No doubt, they'll wish to celebrate with you when I deliver my final finding. But for now," Judge Fitzwilliam appeals to the public gallery, "I would ask for their patience - and their silence - and allow me to proceed."
I'd been listening so intently to Judge Fitzwilliam's words that I'd forgotten about the four prisoners in the dock. As I look towards them, I sense an air of foreboding hanging over the dock; all four defendants are crushed. They stand despairingly with their shoulders slumped and white-knuckled as they clutch the rail of their enclosure for support. Just as I'd read the judge's intention towards me, they'd also done the same and came to the conclusion that they are to be adjudged guilty of all crimes.
"Let me say that today, in this court, I am the sole arbiter of guilt or innocence and the dispenser of justice. Therefore, I have decided no jury is necessary in this case as the defendants, by their own abhorrent actions, have shown their guilt beyond any shadow of a doubt. Hence, there is no necessity for the prisoners to waste my court's time by entering their pleas of guilt or innocence."
All four defendants gasp audibly at the judge's ruling. And his words confirm what they'd already unhappily guessed - that they are guilty as charged.
"Since this unhappy case was brought before me barely twenty-four hours ago," Judge Fitzwilliam continues, "I have considered every aspect of it and unhappily for the prisoners, I can find neither excuses for their crimes nor any extenuating circumstances that might mitigate their guilt. I will first of all deal with the serious crime with which all four defendants are charged. That is the illegal trading of slaves and more specifically their failed attempt to smuggle two slaves out of the country. Our legislators have quite rightly put into place sensible rules for the orderly importing and exporting of slaves. And all four defendants were aware of this when they hatched their dastardly plot to circumvent the law by spiriting Mr Lucien Barrois and the slave known as Norge abroad to some undisclosed destination. On this charge I find all four defendants guilty! It is now my melancholy duty to pass sentence."
Judge Fitzwilliam's verdict is greeted with a solitary, strangled cry from Simon Barrow who, as a lawyer, is undoubtedly aware of the implications the verdict is to have on him and his three co-accused. The judge ignores Simon as he addresses the foreign slave-trader, Luis Martello.
"Luis Martello! I find you guilty as charged. Sir, as a foreigner you were welcomed into our country and allowed to conduct your business dealings with our citizens. You, sir, as a guest abused our hospitality and generosity by engaging in a nefarious activity with your fellow accused. I am tempted to believe this wasn't your first attempt at such illegal activities and if this is so then your punishment is long overdue. The penalty for the crime of which you and your co-conspirators are guilty is mandatory and it's not within my power to alter it. Therefore, you are sentenced to lifelong servitude without manumission. You will be taken from this court for processing and eventually offered for sale as a slave at public auction. The proceeds from your sale will be paid into the public coffers together with all monies or personal items of value you have with you. Bailiff, take the prisoner down!"
I don't know the foreign slave-trader's mother tongue and his words are incomprehensible to me. But their intent is obvious. As he is hauled kicking and screaming from the hushed courtroom, he hurls foul, verbal abuse firstly at the judge and then to the other three defendants who are left ashen-faced by his sentence. Each now knows the fate that awaits him.
Gradually, the shouting and protests grow fainter as the new slave is hauled away to be processed into his slavery. I shiver as I recall that terrible day three years ago when I'd been made to crawl the length of the long corridor from Judge Matthew's courtroom to the Office of Slave Assessments and Registrations. And as I made that journey, I first felt the excruciating pain of the cruel Whippistick. Then it was a new novelty in the unpracticed hands of an overseer now it is used universally on slaves. I wonder if Cyrus T Humboldt is still working as the registrar. I recall him as a pompous, self-opinionated and grossly overweight individual reeking of cheap body perfume in a vain attempt to mask the obnoxious scent of his perpetually sweating body. I also remember his gauche and clueless young assistant, Jason and wonder if he still works within the court complex. However, I have no desire to renew my contact with either of them.
Patiently, Judge Fitzwilliam waits until all is silent and then he turns to the second slaver, Lionel Schuster.
"Lionel Schuster, I find you guilty as charged and sentence you to lifelong servitude without manumission."
Lionel Schuster greets the judge's words with a strangled protest
"No! You can't do this! I was tricked into doing this by Guy Maratier and Simon Barrow. I was only doing them a favor."
"I doubt that very much!" the judge replies tartly. "You don't impress me as the type of individual who'd do a favor for anyone without a monetary reward. And the evidence presented to me suggests that you were being well paid for your part in this evil scheme. An envelope, addressed to you and containing a large sum of money, was retrieved from the prisoner, Barrow which he has confessed was given to him by the prisoner Maratier with the explicit instruction that he was to give it to you as payment for your part in the illegal smuggling of two slaves out of the country."
"Your Honor, please! I beg the court's mercy." Lionel's words take on an air of desperation. "I didn't mean to do wrong."
"Of course you did. You would be aware that you were breaking the law. You are a member of a profession that is held in low esteem and men like you are the reason why slave-dealers are generally despised and viewed as untrustworthy. And you are living proof of that untrustworthiness. An example must be made of you to serve as a warning to other slave- dealers that the law won't tolerate such illegal practices as the one you perpetrated. Therefore, as well as being sentenced to lifelong slavery, all your property, personal effects and monies are forfeited to the state."
"NO!!! I'm too old to be a slave! Please, have pity?"
"While it's true that you are elderly, my hands are tied. The sentence for the crime for which you stand convicted is very clear; servitude for the term of your natural life. And unfortunately for you, the law doesn't make any allowance for your advancing years. You will be taken from my court and processed into slavery. Then, you will be offered for sale by public auction where it's very possible that your age will tell against you. Should you fail to attract a buyer then you'll be handed over to the state and employed on public projects such as road-building, parks and gardens maintenance and the like. Bailiff, take the prisoner down!"
In a way I have some understanding what is going through Lionel Schuster's mind. I know from bitter experience the feelings of disbelief and panic that would be consuming him as he is lead out of the courtroom by two burly court guards. But I have absolutely no sympathy for his plight. As I watch him being led away, I think of the countless, hapless slaves who he'd bought and sold over the years. He'd never regarded them as human and had only ever seen their monetary worth adding to his own insatiable greed. And I recall his callous indifference and the cruelty he'd shown to Cato and me three years ago as he'd assessed us for Guy Maratier.
Now, Lionel Schuster is to sample the bitter life of a slave and I am gratified with his changing circumstances. Eagerly, I await the sentencing of Simon Barrow and Guy Maratier. I wonder what scathing comments Judge Fitzwilliam will have for them.
Next to be dealt with is Simon Barrow; the verdict is a foregone conclusion and he knows there'll be no mercy shown to him.
Judge Fitzwilliam leans forward and looks directly at the trembling and ashen faced attorney. He seems to be overcome with emotion and indeed he doesn't speak for several moments. Then he sadly shakes his head and solemnly hands down the only verdict open to him.
"Simon Barrow, as a fellow lawyer, it is my melancholy and distasteful duty to find you guilty as charged and sentence you to lifelong servitude without manumission."
There is sadness and regret in the judge's voice as he speaks. Obviously, he finds the sentencing of a fellow jurist distasteful.
Simon Barrow couldn't have been in any doubt about his sentence. After all, as a lawyer, he'd have known the penalty for his crime, and so he's had time to reconcile himself to his fate. Nevertheless, perhaps because of the emotional impact of his sentencing, he moans audibly.
"Oh no! Please this can't be happening to me!"
Then, he turns to face a visibly shaken Guy Maratier and accuses him.
"You're to blame! You are the case of all this! You're the guilty one. It should be you who's punished not me. You talked me into helping you. You ordered me to do this for you. I was your employee and I was only following your orders. You are to blame and ..........."
Judge Fitzwilliam orders Simon to either remain silent or to be gagged. He tell the disgraced attorney the choice is his to make.
Stunned into silence, Simon collapses to his knees and clasps the dock's railing as he listens to what the judge has to say.
"Simon Barrow, there are no excuses you can offer to this court that mitigate your guilt. You accuse your co-conspirator of causing your present, unhappy predicament. That's not true Mr Barrow; you are the sole architect of your own downfall. As a lawyer you'd have known what Guy Maratier proposed is against the law and you were duty-bound to have advised him of this. Instead, it appears that your greed made you acquiesce and you aided and abetted his dastardly plan for his two slaves. If anything, your guilt is the greater. As one sworn to uphold and serve the law you had an obvious duty to point out to your employer that what he proposed was illegal. If he'd not listened and still persisted with his illegal plans, then you should have alerted the authorities so that they could intervene. You didn't do this and by not doing so you compounded your own guilt. You have no one to blame other than you."
Momentarily, I feel pity for Simon Barrow. Publicly disgraced and now condemned to perpetual slavery, I can emphasize with his plight. Three years ago, I'd been in a similar situation and I remember the awful emptiness I'd felt on that occasion. I'd felt the loss of my freedom, the pain of rejection and the mocking ridicule and scorn of those around me. Only one who has also suffered these things would understand what Simon Barrow is now feeling. But my sympathy for him is fleeting. I remember how in the courtroom that day, he'd callously abandoned me and expediently switched his allegiance to Guy Maratier. His had been an act of gross betrayal and not that of an honorable man.
And over the years, together with Guy Maratier, he'd been a willing party in adding to my suffering by his cruel taunting of Thor and me. How many times had he driven us and applied the driver's whip to our naked backs? Now he is to taste the bitterness of slavery and to suffer its awful torments.
Today is a day of retribution and for remembering these things. As I look sideways to where Thor sits at my side I feel only anger towards those who'd cruelly used and abused us and there is no place for pity in my heart.
Once more, Judge Fitzwilliam's summation cuts through my thoughts. He hasn't yet finished with sentencing Simon Barrow.
"It saddens me deeply to see you standing in my dock," he berates Simon, "and being found guilty of such a serious crime. From what I gather, you showed some promise as a lawyer and you could have been held in high esteem by your peers if you'd chosen to uphold the law and not to break it for your greedy, pecuniary interests. You are now to pay a high price for that greed. The public at large is entitled to feel trust in those who enforce the law and in the courts where justice is dispensed without fear or favor. Your actions broke that trust and you have brought the noble institution of the law into disrepute. Therefore, I must take action to reassure the public that any corruption in the justice system will be weeded out and ruthlessly dealt with. Your betrayal of the public trust warrants further punishment. You have been sentenced to the maximum period of servitude that the law proscribes and I have thought how I can add to your sentence. Naturally, all your property is forfeited to the state and I did consider having you publicly flogged as an additional punishment. However, my court officials have advised me that this could irreparably damage you and lessen your value when you are sold at auction. Therefore, I have decided that immediately after you are branded and fitted with your slave collar, you are to be taken to the front of the courthouse and placed in the public stocks for a period of twenty-four hours. The words 'Corrupt Lawyer' are to be written on the titular board above your head and the general public will, within reason, be permitted to show their displeasure in the long practiced tradition of pelting you with overripe fruit and eggs. Additionally, you are to receive thirty strokes of the cane. I'm mindful that you will be newly branded and therefore you will be caned on the upper back and shoulders rather than the buttocks. Hopefully, your public shaming and caning will go some way to re-assuring the public of the law's intolerance of corruption. Bailiff, take the prisoner down!"
This additional punishment takes me by surprise. I'd not expected it but I approve whole- heartedly. From my point of view, it is the icing on the cake.
Before my own enslavement, I had witnessed prisoners publicly displayed in the stocks and they are designed to cause discomfort to the hapless victim and to humiliate him. Stripped naked, the prisoner is forced to kneel on all fours on a raised platform with his head and hands locked into a crossbeam. Thus totally immobilized, he is easy prey for the general public to taunt him. Humiliatingly, all parts of his naked body are open to their scrutiny and I know from past observations that Simon will be subjected to the crudest of inspections and subjected to the grossest indignities.
I bitterly recall the day of my enslavement when Guy Maratier drove me away from the courthouse. As we passed through the crowd, I'd been subjected to the taunts and jeers of my detractors and my naked body was pelted with overripe fruit and eggs. No words of mine can adequately describe the humiliation and the hurt of my public rejection and ridicule. Now Simon Barrow is to experience it. There is justice in the world, after all!
Desperately, Simon seeks refuge in the dock and refuses to leave. He hangs onto the railing with grim determination and refuses to co-operate with the two guards who are to take him to the slave assessor. Finally, more guards are called for; they waste no time in prying his hands lose from the rail and dragging him bodily from the court. Gradually, his desperate cries of protest and his vain pleas for help fade into the distance as he is hauled down the hallway and delivered into the lascivious, exploratory hands of the slave assessor. Recalling my own experiences, I picture him being made to strip naked and subjected to the most intimate of inspections. And from there he'll be taken to the blacksmith's forge for branding and collaring before being placed in the stocks.
Now there is just one prisoner to be dealt with and that is my nemesis, Guy Maratier. I look at him and see that he is wracked by fear. Like a trapped animal, his eyes dart wildly around the courtroom as though he is looking for a means of escape and his body is convulsed by his violent trembling. How isolated he must feel as he stands alone in the dock. It is a feeling I know all too well!
With Guy Maratier's guilt now a foregone conclusion, I wait for Judge Fitzwilliam to deliver his verdict. With my hope restored, I am anxious to leave the court and resume my old life as Lucien Barrois.
To be continued ......