Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Roka took off down the street, checking each side street for the barefoot man. When she was most of the way to the inn, she spotted him in another alley between a blacksmith and a butcher shop. He was leaning against the wall of the butcher shop next to a pile of discarded wooden planks. He bent over, huffing from exertion. He probably thought Roka’s master had lost him, but he was certainly wrong. Best to step in now and extinguish the situation.

“Wanasan,” Roka said, slowly approaching the man. “Are you okay?”

He quickly straightened when he heard her voice and braced to run again.

Roka stopped, trying not to spook him any further. “What is your name? Are you hurt?”

“You’re the other one, aren’t you?” he shouted at her. “You’ve got the kunka sword. I didn’t do anything, and he tried to kill me!”

“Calm down, wanasan,” Roka said, patting the air with her hands. The way his pox marks appeared to cast his expression down made him look guilty of something. “It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”

“Don’t look at me like that!”

Roka tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn’t help a slight grimace. It was enough to send the man over the edge. He picked up one of the planks of wood at his feet and wielded it like a club.

“Now, wanasan, that’s a bad idea,” she admonished. “Put the weapon down.”

The man took a step toward her. “Don’t come any closer, jijaki!”

Roka’s options were running out. In this state, she might not be able to keep her master from killing the man, and Master Yusubru was likely to show up any second.

She started toward him, still keeping her hands out in a placating gesture. She didn’t try to force a smile. No one ever believed her smile was genuine. It usually just made people more afraid.

“Calm down,” she said again.

He inched another step toward her, bringing the plank back for a big swing. The time for talk was over. She walked into swinging distance and he came at her from the side with the plank. She ducked under the flying piece of wood and kicked the man in the stomach. He dropped the plank and fell to his knees, clutching his belly.

Roka’s master chose that moment to appear. He rounded the corner of the blacksmith, sword still in hand. When he saw the man on his knees, he ran up and kicked him in the back. The man fell on his face.

“Master!” Roka protested.

“Good work catching him, child,” her master said. He raised his sword to strike the defenseless man.

“Master!” Roka said again, this time more sharply.

Her master stopped short. He looked up from his victim. “What?”

“He is incapacitated. What has he done to deserve death? Explain to me what is happening.”

Her master did not withdraw his sword, but neither did he let it continue toward the man on the ground. “Inkeeper Neayui informed me that she was worried this man was treating his family poorly. When I arrived to check on his home, I caught him in the act of beating his wife. She had many bruises and a broken hand. Not only that, I discovered his children have marks of abuse as well. This scum does not deserve to see another nightfall.”

“Oh? How is his wife? Did you see to her injuries?”

“She is in shock, but recovering,” her master admitted. “I made sure she was stable.”

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“And his children?”

“I do not believe they were harmed today, but they were in clear distress.”

“I am glad his family is not in any imminent danger. We can turn this man over to the local authorities. They should be able to take care of such a case.”

“I have him here. Why hand him over when I can assure he never harms anyone again?”

The man on the ground whimpered.

“Master,” Roka pressed, “he has not killed anyone. Neither will he be able to hurt his family again while in the town’s custody. The komhak in Montaima are dutiful. Inform them of this man’s actions and they will see that proper justice is administered. The entire town is likely to hear of his deeds and he will need to earn back their trust. He will never be allowed near his family again.”

“But–”

“Master,” she insisted, “does this man truly deserve death?”

Her master stared at her for a few seconds and then lowered his sword. “You are right. We will take him to the komhak.”

Roka shook her head. “I will take him. You return to his family and ensure they are well. I will send for the town witch doctor once I have met with the komhak.”

Again, his eyes lingered on her. “Very well. I will meet you at the inn when it is done.” He finally sheathed his sword and took a step back.

Roka stepped over the man on the ground and pulled him to his feet, keeping one of his arms pinched behind his back. She had full control of him and could alternatively break his arm or release him.

“Be careful around him,” her master said.

Roka snorted and pushed the man ahead of her toward the komhak office. Her master left toward the man’s home.

“I didn’t do anything,” the man said as they walked.

“Yes, you did,” Roka said. Her master, agitated as he had been, would not have lied. Nor would his eyes have deceived him so cleverly. She knew the man was guilty, it was just a matter of ensuring the proper next steps.

He stopped and started to turn toward her, so she bent his arm nearly to the point of snapping. He cried out and faced forward again. She relaxed the pressure on his arm and forced him to continue walking. He didn’t speak again.

Though she had never visited Montaima’s komhak office, the town was small enough that it was easy to find. She made the guilty man open the door and, once inside, she sat him down in a chair. He stared at the floor.

Two men occupied the office, both servants of the law. One sat behind a small wooden desk and the other wiped a side window with a damp cloth. There was a closed metal door on the left-hand side of the room, locked with a bar and featuring a small window. Probably a holding cell.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Roka announced. “Do you know this man?”

The man at the window stopped wiping and exchanged looks with the man behind the desk.

“Aye,” the man behind the desk said. “That’s Chuiji, son of Azito and Safosji.” He turned his head toward the guilty man. “Hey, Chuiji. What’d you do?”

Chuiji said nothing. The ground wasn’t going to judge him, so he continued to stare at it.

“He is accused of spousal and child abuse. Master Yusubru of the Sentinels witnessed the crime, though I am sure you can verify it with the man’s family and friends.”

“Ah,” the lawman behind the desk said. “We’ll take him into custody then. Thank you for bringing him in.”

Roka raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t sounded surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for lawmen of the komhak to know or be suspicious of a crime but be unable to bring the criminal to justice. This particular case, however, seemed a little too familiar. Perhaps the komhak of Montaima were not as dutiful as she had thought.

The lawman got up from his desk and removed the bar across the metal cell, opening it to reveal a room bare except for a wooden bench. Roka pulled Chuiji up by his arm and walked him over to the cell. The closer she came, the more the lawman seemed to tighten up. The pox mark across his brow made it look furrowed. When she was standing in front of him, Chuiji in hand, she thought the lawman might break out sweating.

“Did I do something wrong, Mzama-Sentinel?” the lawman asked.

“You did not,” Roka said. Not that she knew of.

The lawman quickly checked Chuiji for weapons and other contraband and then gently pushed him into the cell, closing the door after him. Through the window, Roka watched Chuiji walk to a corner of the cell and then sit down. He looked pitiful, but then most abusers looked pitiful when they had been caught.

“I’ll go interview the family,” the lawman said. “Thank you again for bringing him.”

“Only my duty,” Roka said. She paused. She didn’t want to scare the lawman anymore. It was possible he had not known of Chuiji’s behavior or had simply been unable to prove it, but Roka had to be sure justice was served. “I must remind you of my other duty to check on criminal cases that include Sentinel participation. I will be traveling through Montaima again sometime in the next six months. I am sure you will follow the proper procedure with this man, but I warn you that if I find he has returned to his family, Sentinel opinion of the city will diminish.”

Sweat started to bead at the lawman’s temple. “Of course, Mzama-Sentinel. We will give Chuiji’s crime special consideration.”

“I hope you give all crime in your town special consideration, but I am glad to hear you will be careful. Thank you for your hard work, and I wish you a good day.”

Roka turned on her heels and exited the komhak office.