Splinter Town, page 22
“I hope we’re in time, there’s a crabber down here somewhere who will take us to Splinterton for a price.”
They turned off of the road onto a lane that was if anything even smaller. At the end of the lane the road opened out into a hidden cove surrounded by grey stone cliffs. A tiny cottage snuggled at the base of the cliff beside the road. Down the stony beach a jetty of knapped rock jutted out into the deeper water. Two men were pulling crab traps off of the boat and loading them into the back of a van.
“Jethro! Can you take us to Splinterton?”
“Mr Greenock, well I never. Do you know, you always seem to bring the stormy weather with you?”
“I know, I’m sorry about that! I know the sea is rough, but I heard it would be manageable until the early afternoon, at least for someone as capable as Captain Jethro Tucker, and his good boat Bessie?”
“You know I’d love to help, but I’ve been out fishing all night, and these crabs have got to get to Barnstaple market.”
“Well, I don’t have a lot of cash on me, but you’re welcome to it. We need to get across before the storm comes in. There are people working to take Wales, France and England to war, and we need to find a way to stop it.”
“Not this time, Arthur, sorry. You know I don’t get involved in all that.”
“What about the bus?” asked Grace.
“What about it?”
“Well do you want it? Take us to Splinterton and you can have it. You could convert it into a mobile crab shop, go around all the villages selling your crabs and make more than you ever would selling them wholesale at the market.”
“Dad! Go on, take them to Splinterton! You’ve always wanted to do that. Picture it now, no more soaking your hands in icy water pulling crabs from the sea in the winter. Me and Ern can handle the fishing, you can drive round and sell them, keep your hands nice and warm and not worry about the arthritis any more.”
Jethro did not take much more persuading. Before long the sturdy little craft “Bessie” was breasting the waves and heading north into the Bristol Channel.
“Thank you Grace, you didn’t have to do that, we could have hidden and waited out the storm somewhere.”
“I know, I just got a feeling that we need to be back in Splinterton. Excuse me, I think I’m going to do something festive over the side.” Grace hung her head over the gunwales and yawned to the sea.
Return to Splinterton
The seas were rolling and they were drenched more with spray than the light rain by the time the little crabbing boat “Bessie” arrived at Splinterton’s rim wall.
The town rose Gothic and forbidding in the darkening skies as Jethro tried to time his approach to the eastern opening in the rim wall. The boat lunged a disconcerting distance sideways and back again with each rise and fall of the waves.
“I don’t think I can get in there Abram, if I miss my timing we’re going to be dashed on the rocks.”
“You have to be careful not to hit Old Tom once you’re through the gap. Tell you what, let’s go round to the southern gap. In this sea you’re going to be swept straight through so you can go in fast, and there’s plenty of room to slow down on the western side of the town once you’re through the gap.”
“I’ll take a look, but if I don’t like what I see I’m heading back to port.”
“You’ll be fine, I’ll talk you through. Bessie can handle it, she’s a good strong-hearted boat.”
Jethro took the little boat around the south side of the rim wall, staying well away since the prevailing wind and current was pushing them towards the rocks. As they drew level with the gap, Jethro saw that the opening was in line with the western channel between the rim wall and the pillars supporting the town.
“It’s a bit choppy in there, seeing as the wind is driving straight in.”
“Yes, we won’t try to turn towards the dock once we’re in. The shortest way would be to turn right immediately after we pass through the gap, but the wind could drive us into the columns under the Great Hall. We’ll go straight up the channel, then do a circuit of the town to get to the docks.”
“I dare say you’ve done this a time or two before?”
Abram laughed. “I have, and in heavier seas than this.”
“I don’t generally hold with handing over the Bessie to another skipper, but there’s no shame in having a local pilot bring a boat into harbour, would you like to take us in, Abram?”
“It would be my honour, Captain Jethro.”
Abram took the wheel and looked round at Martlet, Arthur, and Grace. “Stay down and hold on to something, it is going to get a bit bouncy as we go through the buffer currents just outside the gap.”
Holding the throttle in his right hand, and the wheel in his metal left hand, Abram had a momentary twinge – this was the first time he had helmed a boat since losing his hand.
Gritting his teeth, Abram teased the throttle into reverse, holding the boat steady against the northward push of the wind while jostling the wheel to get the prow of the boat aligned. There was a slight westward drift, so he angled the boat slightly toward the edge of the southern rim wall.
“Brace yourselves, everyone.”
Abram pushed the throttle all the way forward, and the game little crabbing boat dug in and jumped forward. Just as it seemed they would collide with the wall on the right of the southern gap, the backwash from the sea hitting the base of the rocks pushed them with a lurch through and into the caldera. Abram immediately throttled back and let the Bessie glide up the western channel.
There were a few groans from the back of the boat.
“Remind me next time to wait out the storm and take the ferry. You’re some kind of fiend, Abram.”
“Don’t listen to him, Abram. That was fantastic!” Martlet was ecstatic.
Abram checked to see if Jethro wanted to take back the helm, but Jethro waved him on, “You know where you’re going, take us in to the dock Mister Kedge.”
“Aye aye captain” Abram laughed. They passed the Blacksmith’s tower, and the tall spire of St Ignatius’ church came into view.
“So you really jumped off of that, Martlet?”
“Yes, do you see the little platform near the top? I started on this side of that platform. It looks a very long way up from here. I had to get all the way across this channel, so I had to dive straight down the side of the spire first of all to get the speed I needed to get across and over the wall. I nearly crashed into the rim. It was very, very close.”
“Ye gods, and you did that in the dark. You must have the heart of an eagle.”
“It is pounding away like the heart of a mouse right now, I’m scared witless at the prospect of facing the people I have injured, and the families of the ones I killed.”
Arthur reached around Grace who was sitting between him and Martlet, and put his hand on Martlet’s shoulder.
"I can’t pretend that it is going to be easy, but means a lot that you are coming back of your own free will. You are prepared to face the consequences of your actions, and you are willing and able to contribute to the peace and security of Splinterton and its people.
“As a town we respect that. There is a lot of pain that has to be given vent to ease the suffering of the victims, but please brave the process with the stout heart of the warrior that we know you are. It will pass, and those of us who work to defend this Town would welcome you by our side.”
Martlet looked to Abram. “Is this your mind too, Abram?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have used all the fancy words, but yes. I have a mad jumble of emotions whenever I think of that night, but you kept me alive when you didn’t have to, when it put your life in danger. I want you on our side.”
Martlet turned and looked into the undertown, hiding the tears welling in her eyes.
Jethro looked from one to the other, slack jawed. He put his pipe back into his mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully.
“Flying girl, death and destruction? Sounds like you all have some stories to tell. I’m going to be staying over for a day or so until the storm passes, I hope you’ll share some of them with me.”
Friday 10th October
The Great Hall
The Great Hall was built at the height of Splinterton’s success. The soaring structure was a testament to the town’s extravagant triumphalism. Over the intervening two hundred years, that fervour had faded to a dour practicality in the townsfolk.
The central hall was an open space with a large compass rose picked out in white marble inlaid into black granite. To the north was the main entrance, to the south for this occasion a dock, witness stand, judicial benches and court desks.
Vertical tiers of age-polished wooden seating lined three quarters of the wall of the elliptical hall. People were filing into the rows of seats from stairways and corridors on the outside of the chamber. The familiar silver-grey Splintonian wood had been buffed and polished with linseed oil for centuries, giving it a dark black-gold glow.
Thomas looked down from his seat on the highest tier and imagined that the design on the floor was a great eye staring up at the vaulted and domed ceiling. In the centre of the dome a large circular window showed the passing clouds of a fading storm.
The Hearing was due to start in just fifteen minutes. In the gloom at the south end of the Hall Thomas saw officials starting to occupy the horseshoe of benches around the central dock.
Even at noon the hall was dark and foreboding. As the time came nigh for the commencement of the hearing, the four large chandeliers lit up like a constellation of stars in the vault of the ceiling. A warm glow reflected from every panel of the tiered public seating stands, and the court area was illuminated like a theatre stage.
There was a general susurration of quiet conversation in the hall, thousands of whispers merging to create a sound as loud and unintelligible as waves breaking on the shore. The noise rose four-fold as the petite figure of a young dark-haired woman dressed in black stepped into the hall.
Two members of the Watch followed the young woman, one to each side forming a perfect equilateral triangle. They walked directly across the centre of the chamber, their steps echoing as the sound of the watching crowd died down. They proceeded with mathematical precision across the centre of the compass, entering on the N marker and exiting over the S marker. By the time the woman ascended to the dock, the hall was silent.
The Baron and Minnie quietly entered the court together, and joined Commander Anne Hoy at the judges’ bench. A bailiff in ceremonial uniform stepped forward and proclaimed “Pray silence! Court is now in session.”
The Baron looked over the top of his glasses at the woman in the dock. “First of all, let us establish conclusively your identity. We have recorded your entry to the neutral and independent territory of Splinterton on Wednesday 17th of September of this year under the single name ‘Martlet’. Is this your legal name?”
“If it please your Lordship, my legal name is Sister Martlet of the Sisters of Saint Valencia la Fey, but since leaving that order five years ago, I have gone simply by the name Martlet.”
“And your birth name?”
“Amelie Caron, your Lordship.”
“Very well Miss Caron, you stand charged of certain grievous injuries and deaths as have previously been described to you and are summarised on the docket that the bailiff shall bring to you now. Take your time, read the document thoroughly and tell the court how you plead to these charges.”
Martlet read the charges and looked up at the judges. “These charges are incomplete, your Lordship.”
“How so?”
“I also stole the Syrenis Blade from the Academy. That was the entire purpose of the mission assigned to me.”
“And where is the blade now?”
“It was taken from me by two Syrenis when I was unconscious in the sea outside the Splinterton rim wall.”
Minnie spoke up. “That has been taken into account. The blade was effectively returned to its rightful owners, it is not of material concern in these proceedings. Tell us how you plead, young lady.”
“I plead guilty on all counts to the charges outlined in this document.”
The Baron replied “Very well, do you offer any mitigating circumstances?”
Martlet looked him in the eye. “None, your Lordship. I take responsibility for the harm that I did in the pursuit of my mission.”
The Baron looked at Martlet for a few seconds, then glanced around the gathered victims and families of the deceased in the benches to either side of the dock.
"Very well. The nature of your mission, and the information you have provided with regard to the organisation that gave you that assignment are in themselves factors that will be taken into consideration when we assess your sentence.
“I call on any present today who would speak on behalf of the accused to stand and make themselves known.”
Abram stood. He had removed his black leather glove. His shining metal hand drew stares from many in the Hall. Beside him, Grace Starling and Arthur Greenock stood also.
“Abram, in light of the maiming you received, you are a principle plaintiff. Are you certain that you wish to waive that status in order to testify on the accused’s behalf?”
“Quite certain, your Lordship.”
The Baron turned to the gathered plaintiffs. “After we have heard the statements from those speaking on Miss Caron’s behalf, I shall be calling on the plaintiffs for a petition of restitution. Have you appointed a spokesperson or persons?”
Karl Jungstock stood. “If it please your Lordship, I shall speak for the deceased, and Watchman Jackson will speak for those injured during the incident.”
“Thank you Karl. Grace, please come forward to the witness stand and provide your testimony in mitigation for Miss Caron.”
Grace stood and entered the witness stand. She looked nervously around to the left and right. She knew that most of the town was seated all around her, but the lighting kept everything outside of the immediate court area dark and indistinct.
Seeing Grace hesitate, Commander Hoy offered “Take your time, Grace. Why don’t you start with how you heard about Miss Caron, and how you met her?”
"Thank you, your Honour. I was working with Arthur Greenock in the Avon House field office when we heard of the assault on Splinterton, we were told that the assailant’s name was Martlet and received a description.
"We knew that Martlet has been active as a freelance intelligence agent, primarily for infiltration and stealth espionage. From our files, we have found that she has been brutally efficient in combat, she has had to fight her way out of several incidents where there was a high risk of capture.
“The records indicate that she uses violence only as a last resort. There are rumours however that she has carried out at least one assassination.”
Grace paused and took a sip of water.
"We have some low level contacts within the convent support staff for the Sisters of Saint Valencia la Fey, so we heard of her arrival at the Bristol Convent. She was evidently on the run and seeking refuge at the convent. Unfortunately for Martlet, they imprisoned her for ‘reeducation’, a process that can sometimes prove fatal.
“Martlet managed to escape from that place, and at that point we sent out an appeal over several channels asking her to return to Splinterton with us.”
Commander Hoy asked “And during this escape, did Miss Caron commit any further acts of violence?”
“No injuries were inflicted, as far as our sources have reported. A nun charged with observing one of her punishment exercises was found sleeping peacefully on the floor of the cell, with no memory or sign of having suffered any violence.”
“Miss Caron, how did your guard happen to be so conveniently sleeping when you made your escape?”
Martlet smiled “She so wanted to escape with me, she was besotted with the idea of flying and thought that I could teach her how to fly. I applied a light, painless grip to her neck that rendered her unconscious. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I wasn’t in a position to bring her with me.”
Commander Hoy gave her a stare for a few seconds. “That sounds like a very useful technique, I hope that you will share it with the Splinterton Watch.”
“It takes training and skill to apply safely. If I do, I would request that only your most responsible and proficient Watchmen are taught the technique.”
“Your concern for the welfare of our citizens is noted.” Martlet was unable to discern if the statement was sincere or subtle irony.
The Baron prompted Grace to continue.
“Well, Martlet saw one of our newspaper postings a few days later and contacted the Avon House field office, indicating a willingness to return to Splinterton of her own volition. We made arrangements to meet her in a public space to confirm the terms of her return.”
“And did that rendezvous proceed smoothly?”
“Unfortunately, no. The Sisters of Saint Valencia were still hunting Martlet, and we were ambushed in force at a public house. Despite the efforts of more than a dozen Irregulars within the pub to block the nuns, we were very nearly overwhelmed and captured. If it wasn’t for the efforts of Martlet, both Mr Greenock and myself would have been captured or killed.”
“I see, and was anyone else with you during this incident?”
“Skipper Kedge was with us also, but Mr Greenock and I had been cut off by nuns, and Martlet came back to help us.”
“Thank you Grace, do you have anything to add regarding Miss Caron’s actions or character up until the point that you arrived here at Splinterton?”
"I was able to observe her while she was waiting for Skipper Kedge and Mr Greenock. In general she shows good field-craft, I can see why she has been successful as a freelancer.
"She took time to evaluate the mental state and attitude towards her of all three of us. When she was convinced that we sought primarily to ensure the stability and peace of the whole three-nations region, and to protect the town and community of Splinterton, she agreed without reservation to come with us. Martlet has since provided a great deal of information that has already been corroborated and has proven useful.
