Post by countlivin on Apr 23, 2019 4:27:56 GMT
Chapter 10: Trial By Fire
Saul Arrem
Saul was dragged through the grand wooden doors by his bound wrists. When the threw him into the room, a Peacekeeper behind him forcefully shoved him to the front. The judge stood there at his podium with the relaxed eyes of a man who had already made the call. Saul shook his head in anger, not knowing whether it was regret he was feeling or the lack thereof.
His audience was small, and the only members of the court in attendance were the judge, the Peacekeepers and himself. But behind the prosecutor's desk was a gruff looking man with a bald head who sat there staring at him with apathy. It was as if no one cared about this case. Yet, of course, there wasn't any reason to. Hundreds of people had snuck past the gate before. Most of the time, even the Peacekeepers paid it no mind. Why did they pull him so hard if they don't even care? Saul wondered. They left bruises on my arm. Why am I any different from any ordinary escapee?
The Peacekeepers let him collapse into a heap in the center of the floor. He could do no more than glare at them, but he quickly and quietly made his way to the seat at the defendant's table. He knew little of law, but that District Eleven was not known for being particularly respectful of it.
"Prosecutor Clemaine, you may read the charge," the judge said with a bored wave of his hand. He hadn't even taken the time to put on his fluffy wig. His gold-rimmed glasses were too low on his nose to even see Saul clearly, and he was slouching in his desk.
"Thank you, your honor," he responded.
Just as he was about to speak, they heard a wailing creak as the great wooden doorway swung open. There were more Peacekeepers, dragging a second victim by the wrists. Saul clenched his teeth when he saw his little sister, Peara with her mop of white-blonde hair all disheveled. He was so confused and angry, but none of that mattered now. All that mattered was her. They pushed her rather too hard and she fell to the ground. "Don't you dare touch her!" Saul screamed, jumping from his seat.
"Saul!" she cried. "I'm okay! I'm—"
"Shut up!" One of the Peacekeepers shouted, and hit her in the face with the butt of his gun. She was knocked back to the dusty wooden floor. Saul broke away from his captors and rushed down the empty aisle to her. They couldn't stop him, but when he arrived, one of the soldiers in white drove his fist into Saul's stomach and knocked all the wind out of him. He collapsed right next to his sister. "You… won't take… us…" Saul wheezed as the troop lifted each of them up by their arms.
The doors opened again, and the one who strode through them was none other than Mr. Thurgood Munrow, sporting a mocking grin a nice suit he shouldn't have been able to afford. He sat down next to the man named Clemaine in the seat across the aisle.
"Would you kindly read both our defendants their charges?" the judge sighed.
"Yes." Clemaine stood up and held a paper in his hand. He read off of it: "Saul Arrem, charged with leaving the district and arson. Peara Arrem—"
"Arson?" Saul complained. "Arson?! You're charging me for the fire that I was trying to warn you about? That's just wrong!"
"Order in the court," the judge exclaimed unenthusiastically. Saul wondered how he ever kept this job as judge with his complete lack of concern. On top of the pillars beside the judge's booth were a bronze scale held by the talon of an eagle and a fist clutching a battle axe, carved of marble. They must like to pretend they haven't made a mockery of justice…
"Peara Arrem," Clemaine continued, smiling maliciously. "You are charged with arson as well as your brother."
"Objection!" Saul shouted.
The judge put his fingers on the bridge of his nose and sighed. "That's not how you use... What is your claim?"
"We are innocent!" he shouted. The anger was heating his blood now, he was running at the podium, but one of the white guards had him by the cuffs. "We didn't case that fire! Munrow's the one to blame! He shot a flaming arrow—"
"Overruled," he said, not even listening to the rest of his explanation. Saul could hardly even look upon anyone in the room. Saul and Peara had been through hell together... This was just icing on the cake.
The two of them were true brother and sister, yet many people in District Eleven didn't perceive it as so. Saul's skin was a very dark shade, while Peara was born with an affliction that left her skin pasty white. Her eyes were red like the sunset, and no matter how many times people at her school told her she was ugly or she didn't belong with them, he never looked at her differently. She was twelve years old and had never known her parents. The director at St. Rhodes', Ethel Jugby, was the closest thing she'd ever had to a mother. I suppose I'm the closest she's ever had to a father…
People hated Peara. It wasn't because of how she acted, or because of her beliefs. People hated her because she was white. And they hated Saul too for sticking up for her. In District Eleven, it generally went that the darker skin you had, the more respect you got in business. Darker meant more hours in the sun, and more hours in the sun meant higher pay grade; most of their jobs were outside. There were very few light-toned people, and they were viewed as outcast, generally found on the streets. The Albars were the lowest of the low. Peara, even though her skin was white because of disease, was considered one of them.
"I don't want to go to jail..." she whispered, clutching Saul's forearm tightly. She was shivering.
"We won't," he told her. "You don't have to have a guilty conscience. We're completely innocent."
She began to weep silently to herself, and Saul put his arm around her. He knew she was only scared. He felt overwhelmed himself. He didn't know why they were being taken to court, as both were minors... Then again, Saul had never seen the inside of a court room. I doubt any of these men have seen the inside of the courtroom with how much good they do. He knew beforehand that District Eleven law was nothing like any other law. Most of the time there was no jury... No bailiff... Not once had he ever seen a case where the defendant had won. Saul still kept up his hopes.
"If the defendant would stop muttering to his accomplice, I'm sure we could all move on with our lives," the judge proclaimed, frustrated. "Prosecutor, I would ask you to make your opening statement to the jury, but seeing as we have none, we will skip this phase. Mr. Arrem, who would you name as defending attorney?"
"I guess I'll represent myself," Saul replied. There was no one in this District that cared enough about him or his sister to represent in trial. Ethel was the only one close, and she hadn't even attended.
The judge was unimpressed, yet convinced. He scribbled something down with a ballpoint pen. "And you, miss?"
"Can Saul represent me?" Peara asked, trying to wipe the tears away long enough to ask the question.
"I don't see any reason why not." The judge shook his head. Clemaine snickered off to the left, but Saul paid him no mind. "Defendant, I would ask you how you plead."
Saul looked down into the eyes of his younger sister. She nodded, letting him know his decision stood for both. He knew the truth, but without a jury to back him up, he wasn't sure how well he could support him. He cringed every time he thought of his backstabbing master. This day couldn't possibly grow any worse than it already was...
88% of readers chose to [B. Plead not guilty.]
"I plead not guilty!" Saul threw back at the judge and his lot. Their shock was pleasing. Justice may mean little more than cow flop in the District, but that didn't mean Saul was going to hand himself over to them.
"Very well," the judge gave a roll of his eyes, "I suppose it's my fault for expecting some courtesy from a delinquent."
Saul clenched his fist when he heard the words. The prosecutor and judge had already made up their minds even before Saul arrived, all he could do now was waste their time.
Peara pulled lightly on his sleeve. "Are you guilty?" she asked in a whisper. "Did you burn the forest down?"
"No," Saul whispered back, truthfully. It hurt him to see the confusion in his sister's eyes. She was too sweet; she didn't deserve to be wrapped up in all this. Munrow… "I know things are gonna get really bad, but I won't let anything happen to you, okay?"
"Okay…" she turned back to the judge. He was perusing through his notes, not even paying attention.
"What do you plead, miss?" the judge asked Peara.
Peara looked up at her older brother, and her eyes only told him "I'm sorry." "Guilty," she whimpered. She was about to cry. "Can I go home now?"
The prosecutor let out a hearty laugh, filling the room with his garlicky breath. "You ain't getting out of here for at least six months, girl."
Peara began to shake, and when Saul tried to comfort her, she lowered her head and began to weep. Why did she plead guilty? I could have protected her… "Order in the court!" the judge said and slammed his gavel down. "Attorney, I did not authorize permission to counsel the defendant."
Saul was done with this court by now. The judge could come down here himself if he wanted them apart. "You'll be okay, Pea. Everything's—"
There was a sharp sting in the back of Saul's neck. He covered it with his fingers and when he brought them back he saw a slight trickle of red. Clemaine stood above him with a syringe. He could feel the daylight fading slowly. "What the hell do you do?" Saul tried to shout, but it came out more like a whimper.
"Don't struggle…" Clemaine smiled. "It makes the symptoms painful."
"I, Judge Farley Rudwick, sentence one Saul—"
"What?" Saul turned back around. He tried to stand up and reach the other side of the room before the Peacekeepers could catch him. It hurt like hell. "Where's the trial? I deserve… We deserve a say!"
"I hereby sentence Saul and Peara Arrem to die for their District."
The sting was growing and felt like a ton of bricks on his shoulders. He collapsed onto the ground under the weight of the tranquilizer before the first man in white even caught up to him. "No…" he forced out. It was growing more and more difficult to stay awake, but he wasn't going to give these men the satisfaction of drifting off quietly. "Pea…"
"Saul!" His sister cried, as two guards put their hands around her spindly arms. She fought her best to break free, but never had the strength. The guards were too strong, and she was a young, fragile girl. The world was eroding her away. Soon she would break, and Saul wasn't sure how long he could stand it after that. "Where are you taking me?! Let me go! Saul!"
"Let her…" Even holding his eyes open was a chore now. When they carried her, kicking and screaming from the hall, he watched through slowly blackening vision as Judge Rudwick, Clemaine and Mr. Munrow all stood above him as though they had accomplished some great deed in defeating him. "Why did you…?"
There was a small splash on the ground near Saul's face, Clemaine's putrid spit. "You may be associated with that Albar trash, but you're a fighter. I'll give you that."
He proved them right. Saul worked up every ounce of strength left in his body to push himself onto his hands and knees. He craned his neck upward and saw their stupid, scowling faces. Judge Rudwick was apathetic, Clemaine seemed actually to be enjoying the show, but it was Munrow's look that stung… He was smiling, him, the man who Saul had spent the greater part of his life working for. You traitor…
"Screw… you…" Saul fought out. "All… of… you… This is a court. Justice is… supposed to be served here. But instead, you've corrupted this hall… with lies… You'll burn for this…"
"Burn? We're not the ones who burn," Munrow was on his knees now. "You and your Albar sister torched our field… and to think I trusted you."
At last, Saul collapsed and his eyes crashed closed. He couldn't bear the weight of his own body anymore. As the world faded around him, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever wake up. Then again… Peara was the only reason he would ever want to. Farley Rudwick sighed through his teeth. "At least they had the grace to lose," Saul heard him say before he let himself pass out. "No parents. No anyone except him. No one will miss him."
"It was a brilliant choice, Your Honor," Clemaine agreed. "Leave the Games to those who have nothing left, and none are hurt when they disappear forever."
"I will take them," Mr. Munrow spoke softly. "He has to rest somewhere before the train arrives."
The Games…? Saul felt as though he knew what they were talking about, but it was just mumbles now… The more he thought, the more tired he became. He wanted to know. He wanted to know. What do I want to know…? Saul drifted gently away.
End of Chapter 10
Saul Arrem
Saul was dragged through the grand wooden doors by his bound wrists. When the threw him into the room, a Peacekeeper behind him forcefully shoved him to the front. The judge stood there at his podium with the relaxed eyes of a man who had already made the call. Saul shook his head in anger, not knowing whether it was regret he was feeling or the lack thereof.
His audience was small, and the only members of the court in attendance were the judge, the Peacekeepers and himself. But behind the prosecutor's desk was a gruff looking man with a bald head who sat there staring at him with apathy. It was as if no one cared about this case. Yet, of course, there wasn't any reason to. Hundreds of people had snuck past the gate before. Most of the time, even the Peacekeepers paid it no mind. Why did they pull him so hard if they don't even care? Saul wondered. They left bruises on my arm. Why am I any different from any ordinary escapee?
The Peacekeepers let him collapse into a heap in the center of the floor. He could do no more than glare at them, but he quickly and quietly made his way to the seat at the defendant's table. He knew little of law, but that District Eleven was not known for being particularly respectful of it.
"Prosecutor Clemaine, you may read the charge," the judge said with a bored wave of his hand. He hadn't even taken the time to put on his fluffy wig. His gold-rimmed glasses were too low on his nose to even see Saul clearly, and he was slouching in his desk.
"Thank you, your honor," he responded.
Just as he was about to speak, they heard a wailing creak as the great wooden doorway swung open. There were more Peacekeepers, dragging a second victim by the wrists. Saul clenched his teeth when he saw his little sister, Peara with her mop of white-blonde hair all disheveled. He was so confused and angry, but none of that mattered now. All that mattered was her. They pushed her rather too hard and she fell to the ground. "Don't you dare touch her!" Saul screamed, jumping from his seat.
"Saul!" she cried. "I'm okay! I'm—"
"Shut up!" One of the Peacekeepers shouted, and hit her in the face with the butt of his gun. She was knocked back to the dusty wooden floor. Saul broke away from his captors and rushed down the empty aisle to her. They couldn't stop him, but when he arrived, one of the soldiers in white drove his fist into Saul's stomach and knocked all the wind out of him. He collapsed right next to his sister. "You… won't take… us…" Saul wheezed as the troop lifted each of them up by their arms.
The doors opened again, and the one who strode through them was none other than Mr. Thurgood Munrow, sporting a mocking grin a nice suit he shouldn't have been able to afford. He sat down next to the man named Clemaine in the seat across the aisle.
"Would you kindly read both our defendants their charges?" the judge sighed.
"Yes." Clemaine stood up and held a paper in his hand. He read off of it: "Saul Arrem, charged with leaving the district and arson. Peara Arrem—"
"Arson?" Saul complained. "Arson?! You're charging me for the fire that I was trying to warn you about? That's just wrong!"
"Order in the court," the judge exclaimed unenthusiastically. Saul wondered how he ever kept this job as judge with his complete lack of concern. On top of the pillars beside the judge's booth were a bronze scale held by the talon of an eagle and a fist clutching a battle axe, carved of marble. They must like to pretend they haven't made a mockery of justice…
"Peara Arrem," Clemaine continued, smiling maliciously. "You are charged with arson as well as your brother."
"Objection!" Saul shouted.
The judge put his fingers on the bridge of his nose and sighed. "That's not how you use... What is your claim?"
"We are innocent!" he shouted. The anger was heating his blood now, he was running at the podium, but one of the white guards had him by the cuffs. "We didn't case that fire! Munrow's the one to blame! He shot a flaming arrow—"
"Overruled," he said, not even listening to the rest of his explanation. Saul could hardly even look upon anyone in the room. Saul and Peara had been through hell together... This was just icing on the cake.
The two of them were true brother and sister, yet many people in District Eleven didn't perceive it as so. Saul's skin was a very dark shade, while Peara was born with an affliction that left her skin pasty white. Her eyes were red like the sunset, and no matter how many times people at her school told her she was ugly or she didn't belong with them, he never looked at her differently. She was twelve years old and had never known her parents. The director at St. Rhodes', Ethel Jugby, was the closest thing she'd ever had to a mother. I suppose I'm the closest she's ever had to a father…
People hated Peara. It wasn't because of how she acted, or because of her beliefs. People hated her because she was white. And they hated Saul too for sticking up for her. In District Eleven, it generally went that the darker skin you had, the more respect you got in business. Darker meant more hours in the sun, and more hours in the sun meant higher pay grade; most of their jobs were outside. There were very few light-toned people, and they were viewed as outcast, generally found on the streets. The Albars were the lowest of the low. Peara, even though her skin was white because of disease, was considered one of them.
"I don't want to go to jail..." she whispered, clutching Saul's forearm tightly. She was shivering.
"We won't," he told her. "You don't have to have a guilty conscience. We're completely innocent."
She began to weep silently to herself, and Saul put his arm around her. He knew she was only scared. He felt overwhelmed himself. He didn't know why they were being taken to court, as both were minors... Then again, Saul had never seen the inside of a court room. I doubt any of these men have seen the inside of the courtroom with how much good they do. He knew beforehand that District Eleven law was nothing like any other law. Most of the time there was no jury... No bailiff... Not once had he ever seen a case where the defendant had won. Saul still kept up his hopes.
"If the defendant would stop muttering to his accomplice, I'm sure we could all move on with our lives," the judge proclaimed, frustrated. "Prosecutor, I would ask you to make your opening statement to the jury, but seeing as we have none, we will skip this phase. Mr. Arrem, who would you name as defending attorney?"
"I guess I'll represent myself," Saul replied. There was no one in this District that cared enough about him or his sister to represent in trial. Ethel was the only one close, and she hadn't even attended.
The judge was unimpressed, yet convinced. He scribbled something down with a ballpoint pen. "And you, miss?"
"Can Saul represent me?" Peara asked, trying to wipe the tears away long enough to ask the question.
"I don't see any reason why not." The judge shook his head. Clemaine snickered off to the left, but Saul paid him no mind. "Defendant, I would ask you how you plead."
Saul looked down into the eyes of his younger sister. She nodded, letting him know his decision stood for both. He knew the truth, but without a jury to back him up, he wasn't sure how well he could support him. He cringed every time he thought of his backstabbing master. This day couldn't possibly grow any worse than it already was...
88% of readers chose to [B. Plead not guilty.]
"I plead not guilty!" Saul threw back at the judge and his lot. Their shock was pleasing. Justice may mean little more than cow flop in the District, but that didn't mean Saul was going to hand himself over to them.
"Very well," the judge gave a roll of his eyes, "I suppose it's my fault for expecting some courtesy from a delinquent."
Saul clenched his fist when he heard the words. The prosecutor and judge had already made up their minds even before Saul arrived, all he could do now was waste their time.
Peara pulled lightly on his sleeve. "Are you guilty?" she asked in a whisper. "Did you burn the forest down?"
"No," Saul whispered back, truthfully. It hurt him to see the confusion in his sister's eyes. She was too sweet; she didn't deserve to be wrapped up in all this. Munrow… "I know things are gonna get really bad, but I won't let anything happen to you, okay?"
"Okay…" she turned back to the judge. He was perusing through his notes, not even paying attention.
"What do you plead, miss?" the judge asked Peara.
Peara looked up at her older brother, and her eyes only told him "I'm sorry." "Guilty," she whimpered. She was about to cry. "Can I go home now?"
The prosecutor let out a hearty laugh, filling the room with his garlicky breath. "You ain't getting out of here for at least six months, girl."
Peara began to shake, and when Saul tried to comfort her, she lowered her head and began to weep. Why did she plead guilty? I could have protected her… "Order in the court!" the judge said and slammed his gavel down. "Attorney, I did not authorize permission to counsel the defendant."
Saul was done with this court by now. The judge could come down here himself if he wanted them apart. "You'll be okay, Pea. Everything's—"
There was a sharp sting in the back of Saul's neck. He covered it with his fingers and when he brought them back he saw a slight trickle of red. Clemaine stood above him with a syringe. He could feel the daylight fading slowly. "What the hell do you do?" Saul tried to shout, but it came out more like a whimper.
"Don't struggle…" Clemaine smiled. "It makes the symptoms painful."
"I, Judge Farley Rudwick, sentence one Saul—"
"What?" Saul turned back around. He tried to stand up and reach the other side of the room before the Peacekeepers could catch him. It hurt like hell. "Where's the trial? I deserve… We deserve a say!"
"I hereby sentence Saul and Peara Arrem to die for their District."
The sting was growing and felt like a ton of bricks on his shoulders. He collapsed onto the ground under the weight of the tranquilizer before the first man in white even caught up to him. "No…" he forced out. It was growing more and more difficult to stay awake, but he wasn't going to give these men the satisfaction of drifting off quietly. "Pea…"
"Saul!" His sister cried, as two guards put their hands around her spindly arms. She fought her best to break free, but never had the strength. The guards were too strong, and she was a young, fragile girl. The world was eroding her away. Soon she would break, and Saul wasn't sure how long he could stand it after that. "Where are you taking me?! Let me go! Saul!"
"Let her…" Even holding his eyes open was a chore now. When they carried her, kicking and screaming from the hall, he watched through slowly blackening vision as Judge Rudwick, Clemaine and Mr. Munrow all stood above him as though they had accomplished some great deed in defeating him. "Why did you…?"
There was a small splash on the ground near Saul's face, Clemaine's putrid spit. "You may be associated with that Albar trash, but you're a fighter. I'll give you that."
He proved them right. Saul worked up every ounce of strength left in his body to push himself onto his hands and knees. He craned his neck upward and saw their stupid, scowling faces. Judge Rudwick was apathetic, Clemaine seemed actually to be enjoying the show, but it was Munrow's look that stung… He was smiling, him, the man who Saul had spent the greater part of his life working for. You traitor…
"Screw… you…" Saul fought out. "All… of… you… This is a court. Justice is… supposed to be served here. But instead, you've corrupted this hall… with lies… You'll burn for this…"
"Burn? We're not the ones who burn," Munrow was on his knees now. "You and your Albar sister torched our field… and to think I trusted you."
At last, Saul collapsed and his eyes crashed closed. He couldn't bear the weight of his own body anymore. As the world faded around him, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever wake up. Then again… Peara was the only reason he would ever want to. Farley Rudwick sighed through his teeth. "At least they had the grace to lose," Saul heard him say before he let himself pass out. "No parents. No anyone except him. No one will miss him."
"It was a brilliant choice, Your Honor," Clemaine agreed. "Leave the Games to those who have nothing left, and none are hurt when they disappear forever."
"I will take them," Mr. Munrow spoke softly. "He has to rest somewhere before the train arrives."
The Games…? Saul felt as though he knew what they were talking about, but it was just mumbles now… The more he thought, the more tired he became. He wanted to know. He wanted to know. What do I want to know…? Saul drifted gently away.
End of Chapter 10