THE STONE KING -- book two of The Chronicles of the First Age

Chapter Sixteen

"Do you hunt the blood of the innocent?" It asked in deep tones as if judgment had come rumbling down from the sacred mountain itself.

"N-n-n-no?"

"Then join me, for we hunt the blood of the guilty."

The men around him howled like beasts. Baru's fear and desperation rose like madness within him. They turned and ran and he ran with them, side by side, spears at the ready, blood pounding eagerly in veins, howling like beasts and seeking the blood of the guilty.

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Pronos sat in the back corner of the tavern, nursing the third beer of the night, uncertain where the other two had gone. The tavern was noisy, dark and smoke-filled. A group of fishermen were in another corner drinking and singing songs while their neighbors cheered on a pair of men locked in an arm wrestling tournament. Another group played a game that involved tossing coins into a small bowl while standing several paces back from the table. It somehow involved the losers both losing their money and being forced to take drinks. Pronos wasn't sure how that worked.

A serving girl brought by a plate of fried fish. The smell turned his stomach which had gone sour on nothing but beer. Near the fireplace, Tarakae set up his drum on its stand and rumbled out a quick practice rhythm. Heads turned and voices quieted in expectation. Tarakae had performed for days both in the market square and in the taverns. His message was getting out to the poor of the city and he was starting to attract followers. He had been hinting that tonight was going to be an important night.

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom*

"Justice!"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom*

"Fairness!"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom*

"Justice!"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom*

"Fairness!"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom**boom*

"The work-boss lives in a big house!"

*boom* *ba- boom* *ba-boom**boom*

"The laborer lives in a shack!"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom**boom*

"The work-boss wears fine clothes!"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom**boom*

"The laborer wears only rags!"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom**boom*

"What do we seek?"

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom*

"Justice!" The crowd joined in.

*boom* *ba-boom* *ba-boom*

"Fairness!" The shout reverberated in the tavern.

Tarakae had spoken at length of the inequities of the poor making the rich richer while only starving themselves. All those thoughts had been tied up in those two words, justice and fairness. Pronos pondered the unfairness of his empty glass while so many people around him still held beer forgotten in their hands as they chanted along with Tarakae. He wondered if the two words might not be mutually exclusive. If justice meant getting what you deserved and fairness meant treating everyone the same, could there ever arise a case where one had to be unjust—deny someone something they deserved—in order to treat them the same as others? And if someone deserved something, should they be allowed to have it even if it meant treating them differently than others?