The Last Case

the Jomking III

"You have arrived early," the man said as he worked outside his little barn, beside his farm. He appeared to me, a strong man with broad shoulders who didn't hesitate to show his muscles, even being just another farmer. I took my seat outside his barn and waited for him after he had gone back inside. Then he returned dressed up.

"I said I shall tell you about him. About my people."

"And what do you expect and return?"

He smiled, "a message when you meet him."

"You seem pretty sure we will end up catching him." He smiled briefly again, "I never said you would end up catching him, no. I am saying I believe you will meet him, even if for a moment." And his eyes explained what he was talking about. What he meant.

Then he started. "In the far East of the world beyond seas and clouds, where no ship can sail, no man can reach, there is a land. . . A land where there are no slaves, no owners, no rulers and everyone is equal. Where the gods reside and war maidans welcome you on horses, when you have given yourself for a noble purpose." He briefly smiled, "That's what they used to tell us when we were children. We swore upon our rings on our hands," his eyes went on the circular mark on his hand; like a ring, "to be loyal to our leaders, and purpose. It was engraved upon our minds, since childhood, how we should behave. How a man is forged and what is right."

"I thought we were talking about-"

Then he interrupted me, "we will get there," he said and continued.

"The men would climb the boats every season, and in the coming years, we would too, and sail gloriously toward the East and West and raid the Nations outside our neighbours, attacking their monasteries, emptying their treasures and bringing their people as slaves. The slaves were treated like animals. The slave women were tortured,"-his voice broke for a moment-"r-raped, and my people took pride in the echos of their screams. I . . . and him, we soon joined these people, because that's what would have pleased our gods. And that is how we would get a place in his hall, after this body is no more.

"We would also do human sacrifices, some people willingly and some chosen from slaves, upon them to please him and give us wealth. We were undefeated warriors, mercenaries who fought for one who gave us money and ships."

The man paused for a lengthy moment, and I could see his expression changing. "But, something felt wrong. Why would the divines ask it from us? To take lives, to take freedom from them, for they too were humans, like us. Maybe better than us. Something was disturbing about this thought, we could not bear to stay in the same shelter as our people, who glorified this very practice. So, a group of us backed off, removed our binding rings and escaped. But we were the almighty Jomkings, the loyal kind of all, and we were not allowed to quit. My brothers chased us down. People who I called family fought my group and killed many. I remember killing many, for the last time, and escaping that glorified prison as my body was pulled by the rushing river water, with him and some others with me. My memories fail after it and I was a slave after that . . . so was he.

"You came all the way from the East?"

The man nodded.

"I got a better master. The one who said I should earn enough and buy my freedom back, for the price he bought me. But my friend did not. His master was rather the opposite. Being a slave I realised what my life was, and the meaning of it. But that was due to my master. In his case, mentally unstable, rather power-hungry master. And power, "he smiled, "it changes people and brings the real you out of the mask you have worn in society before. That man treated him the way we and our people, ones, treated our slaves. Maybe that time he realized what his whole life was."

"You sure know a lot about him, that is for not being close to him."

He shook his head, "I do not. What I said was what I saw. And once being from the same race I do not wish to assume what happened between them when no eyes were watching them. I still say this, I believe he did kill the man. But he was a changed man after being a slave, so maybe I do not believe my words."

Before leaving he gave me the message I was supposed to tell the man, the accused when, once I had the pleasure to come across him. His message was rather-how should I put it-like a foreseen vision of his dear comrade. The words he wished to speak to him. I said, "Your words. . . I am afraid I fail to see why you would like to give such a message."

"If you wish to understand the words," he said, "it is more related to our beliefs. We believe a lot in our gods. To the point of dedicating our lives and sacrificing our bodies in the rituals to please them, once every 9 years. That is before I was enslaved, brought here, and shone a different approach to life."

That was not what I was expecting.

"And if you speak of the context." I said nothing as he continued, "The current king of Lydia was once a duke when Lydia was not united. He fought other Dukes and earls, and became the king. And his master was one of the king's close warriors." He had this really different, serious, understanding expression on his face. "He knew very well how to fight and defend himself. He must not have died so easily."

"I still do not completely understand."

"He was a naive person, even before he was enslaved, and always went more with his emotions than his brain. After defeating his master, he must have- responsibilities, if that is the right word. And to protect them and make sure they are not on focus, he would go to all extents. Even holding the weapon again, with his weak body."