The Collapse CLXXX: Judgment

13 October 20XX+1

My Dear Lucilius:

For reasons unknown to anyone but God, the sunrise was gloriously clear and cloud free this morning. Perfect weather for everyone to be able to make a trip into town for a judgment.

I can seldom think of a time that a breakfast has been less welcome to me. Pompeia Paulina did her best to dress it up with huckleberries in the oatmeal and even a precious cup of coffee (which was, to be fair delicious – how I miss the stuff), but darkness of the day overhung the meal.

I dressed in a formality I had likely not dressed in for over a decade; if I was to render a judgment, best to look as good as I could. Besides, after I rendered judgment, who knew what would happen after that.

It is best to dress for any occasion, even your own funeral.

Young Xerxes was there with his escort, seemingly beefed up from the previous two days before. The weapons were readily apparent this time, with no hint of hiding or concealing them. They made the walk from The Cabin to the makeshift courtroom as much ceremonial as they did protective.

The courtroom was packed, even more so than the previous two days. This was a big doing, likely the biggest in some time and I would swear to you that even outlying farms and ranches had sent a representative to watch. Not surprising I suppose; what happened here – like it or not – would define what we understood justice to be for the coming time.

The courtroom was packed with more guards as well – and to my surprise, I saw The Colonel and The Leftenant and Ox and half a dozen I knew by face only. How Young Xerxes had managed to pull this off was beyond me (although he did wear a smug smile when he realized I had seen them).

A great many things might happen just now. But wholesale murder now seemed much less likely.

“All Rise for the Honourable Judge Seneca” boomed Ox in a voice that defied restraint, pulling people out of their seats by its sheer force and rumble. They stood, all of them – the crowd in the back, Terentia and The Fashionable Woman and Cataline and The Advocate in front, as I passed with Pompeia Paulina on one side and Young Xerxes on the other – through them to the chair and table that served as my bench. Pompeia Paulina gave my hand a squeeze as she peeled off to her chair while Young Xerxes came behind me.

The gavel dropped twice. “Be seated” I spoke in a word almost two thirds less the volume of Ox.

The alacrity with which everyone dropped into their seat alarmed me.

“We are here today” I started “to determine the judgment of Cataline, accused of murder. I remind both sides that it was agreed to that this would be the format and venue agreeable to both; the expectation is that this judgment stands. To be clear, given the circumstances there is no appeal, no second judgment, no further actions. And certainly” I said, looking carefully from one side to the other, “no retribution”.

I shifted a bit in my seat – formal clothes, while looking nice, were never quite as comfortable as jeans. “I will start with the facts of the case. There was a killing. Cataline confesses to it. However, the facts reveal is that the killing was done in response to prevent a killing, that of Cataline by husband of Terentia. Had that happened, we would still be here to discuss a killing. Which seemingly is a problem in and of itself: no matter what, there apparently would have been a death.

We hold that a person has the right to protect themselves from act of being killed – Good Heavens, four months ago people in this room, myself included, walked out to prevent this very thing by people who were quite intent on stealing our things and taking our lives. No-one protested this, no-one said this was wrong. The intent to kill then by those that invaded was quite clear.

And in this case, the need to defend was not even the fault of the defendant: the intent to kill him – by Terentia’s husband – was to cover a self perceived loose end, a link to an self-embarrassing episode that was rooted in his own power and evil deeds. If an invader were to force us to surrender food or body for survival we would be offended and angry; it is even worse when it is done by one’s neighbor simply because that neighbor has the power to do so.”

I shifted again in my seat. “And yet, we have the fact of a death and the fact that now, every death has impact. Terentia’s husband, no matter his moral stature” – here I got an angry look from Terentia – “had value as a contributing member of this town, this social unit. His family has suffered a loss – ultimately self-inflicted by him, but impacting them as well.”

I sat up, ramrod straight. This was the moment I had been both dreading and preparing for.

“It is my judgment that in the case of the killing of Terentia’s husband by Cataline, it is determined to be self defense and there will be no further punishment. It is clear the man is punished enough by himself, and I cannot overlook the facts that brought him to the defense of his own life and that of his wife. I have never rewarded the exercise of power of the strong over the weak before and will not do so now.” The sob from the room could have only come from Cataline’s wife.

“But I recognize there is harm in the loss of Terentia’s husband” I continued. “It is therefore my judgment that beyond returning any and all goods that they may have given to them by Terentia’s husband, there be a payment on the value of his life. Given the circumstances that we live in and the acknowledged reason for the initial “gifts” given by Terentia’s husband was food, the assessment is 5 lbs of wheat.”

I slightly cleared my throat. “As the defendant likely cannot offer up this payment, I offer it up in his stead.” With that, I slammed the gavel down.

The room froze for a moment, then erupted into noise.

I cannot clearly tell you what happened next. The noise – angry shouting, the sound of Terentia’s voice rising above all – was in my ears. My view as blocked by Young Xerxes and a cordon of guards he had thrown around me as soon as the gavel hit. I tried to get up but he pushed me back in my chair. The circle only parted to allow Pompeia Paulina in, who simply grabbed my hand and hugged me in place.

I had, obviously, not discussed any of this with her. “It will be fine” she said in my ear in a voice that was strangely audible despite the shouting. “We can make do”.

By the time I was finally allowed to stand up, the courtroom had largely cleared. The Colonel and The Leftenant were gone along with the faces I had recognized – “to escort Cataline home” as Ox told me. Terentia and The Fashionable Woman were gone, having apparently stormed off. A few stragglers were there, perhaps hoping for some kind of last minute climax which was not to come.

I started to leave, then picked up the gavel and took it with me. Likely given this experience, no-one was going to ever ask me to adjudicate anything again, but one never knows.

I must confess, Lucilius, that the walk home was far different than I expected. I had thought I would be weighed down with sorrow. Instead, I felt a certain lightness in my soul. I had done the best I could, given the circumstances.

That is all that can really be asked of us.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca