Chapter 14: The Magistrate

"Please?"

Logan shook his head firmly. "No. Ya can't. Yer goin' ta tell 'em yer a free woman, that ya wanna become part of society and yer gonna be a decent citizen. As comfortable as Indian clothes are, ya can't wear 'em into town. Go put a dress on." She pouted, but went behind the wall to change as he dug into his chest for his good trousers and shirt. A sudden thought made him call after her, "And put them extra skirts and them white britches underneath!"

Her head poked around the wall just as he was pulling on his pants, and he spun quickly so she wouldn't see anything that wasn't suitable for a young girl to see. She laughed at him. "I know what a man looks like, Logan," she said. "The boys at the Indian camp don't wear hardly anything, and the slaves--" her eyes clouded, and she trailed off. "Well, I know what men look like," she said finally.

"Still ain't proper,' he said, holding his shirt around his waist to keep her from seeing his backside too. "Go get dressed."

"Do I have to wear those funny white pants and all those extra skirts?" she groaned. "They're not comfortable for riding in."

"I got a sidesaddle out in the barn from a trade a long time ago," he said. "Yer ridin' that. And yer ridin' Molly today; don't want ta shock all them folks back in town when they see a girl up on a wild stallion."

Jubilee giggled, and he sighed. He really wanted her to get her head back in her room so he could pull his pants the rest of the way up. "Thunder isn't wild," she informed him. "He just didn't want to be ridden by a boy who'd use a whip."

"Whatever," he said, putting a growl in his voice so she'd know he meant business. "Git on back in there and finish dressin'." Her head obediently popped back around the wall, and he hurriedly finished dressing before she could stick her head around the wall again. A door. He definitely had to put a door in here somewhere. As soon as he got back, he had to put a door in here. First thing.

They were finally dressed, more or less. Logan sent Jubilee back into the cabin to put her hair in two decorous braids instead of the small ones among the loose hair the Indians favored. He also told her to take the feathers and beads out of the braids. He didn't think that would go over well.

She came out, dragging her bonnet in the dust, and Logan groaned when he saw the moccasins. Oh well. She didn't have proper shoes. He'd have to buy her some. He went back into the house and got more money from under the floorboards, tucked it in his pants pocket, and mounted Dark Star, then told her how to get on a sidesaddle. Finally, after a lot of fussing, she got herself settled. Molly seemed irritated by the sidesaddle, and the weight distributed unevenly on her back, but after a couple of sharp smacks she submitted to being ridden in what she clearly considered an undignified position. Jubilee didn't go for her switch, and Logan rather suspected she sympathized with the horse. He sympathized too. That sidesaddle looked damned uncomfortable to be sitting on, much less under, but he was determined she would make a good first impression.

Jackson was a good distance further from Jonesboro, but Logan was determined he was going there. He wasn't on real good terms with the magistrate in Jonesboro, having caught the man cheating at the poker table at Miss Becky's one day. The man would refuse to stamp Jubilee's papers out of sheer spite, and Logan was determined Jubilee would be a free woman by the time they got home that night.

They stopped twice that morning for a break so Jubilee could splash her face with cold water at the streams they came to. It wasn't especially hot, but the layers of clothing she wore were definitely uncomfortable. He was getting itchy under his clothes too. He could see why Red Doe scoffed at the white woman's clothes. It all seemed like unnecessary cloth to him.

They rode into Jackson early that afternoon, and Jubilee looked around with wide eyes. Logan was a little surprised too. The last time he'd been here a year ago, the town had been a little bigger than Jonesboro (there were two general stores, one for food and consumables, the other one for clothes and shoes and leather goods) and it had boasted two whorehouses. Now there were three general stores, and three whorehouses, one for white girls, one for black and mulatto girls, and one with Indian and a couple of girls who looked like Jubilee, except without the blue eyes. Logan thought that was a waste. Why not just have the girls all in one place? If a guy got a hankering to try a different kind of girl, he'd have to get up and go halfway across town to the other one. It didn't make sense. He sighed.

Fort Jackson was just outside town; the town wasn't built up right against the walls, but at the rate it was going it looked like it was going to be mighty soon. He had to walk the horse up and down Main Street a couple of times before he found the magistrate's office. Funny. Every town he'd ever been in had the magistrate's office beside the jail. Not in Jackson. The building marked town jail was all the way at the end of the street. Shaking his head at the idiocy of it, he dismounted Dark Star in front of the office and tethered the black to the hitching post in front of the door. Jubilee had, by this time, seen a couple of girls in front of the general store dismount, and Logan was pleasantly surprised when she stopped daintily by the mounting block, stepped down without ruffling so much as a hair or dislodging her bonnet, and stepped into the office demurely after him.

There were a couple of chairs around the sides of the room, and people were sitting around in them waiting. Logan blinked as a man came up and said, "Name and business?"

"John Logan, I'm tryin' ta get a stamp on the papers freein' a slave girl."

The man looked at him, past him to the quiet, neatly-dressed girl behind him, and nodded. "You got the original papers?"

"Huh?"

"When you got the papers you should have gotten one for the court and one for the slave to keep to prove they're free. Do you have both?"

"Oh, yeah." Logan produced the second piece from his pocket. The first one was in Jubilee's medicine bag, tucked under her dress. The man took it, nodded, and said, "Take a seat. She stands, she's a slave. You, girl, over there in the corner." He pointed. Logan growled.

The man looked startled. "Sir, she's still a slave, she's not free until the magistrate pronounces judgment. Please go sit there." he indicated one of the chairs. Logan went and sat down, but he didn't feel comfortable seeing her standing silently in the corner. Finally he got up and went to stand over next to her. She looked nervous, and he put an arm around her shoulders. To hell with what anyone else thought.

It seemed like an eternity before the magistrate came out of a little back room and sat down behind the big desk. He grabbed a hammer and banged it on the desk twice. "Court is now back in session," he declared. Logan thought that was unnecessary; the judge just came in, hadn't he?

The man who had taken Logan's paper came forward and handed the folded piece to the judge. "First case is a Mr. John Logan, wishing to set free his slave Jubilation Lee," he told the judge. The judge scanned the paper. "All interested parties, step forth," he said loudly. Logan led Jubilee forward and stood behind a battered wooden rail in front of the judge.

"You are Mr. John Logan?" Logan nodded. "And this is the slave in question?" Logan nodded again. The judge spoke sharply. "Mr. Logan, a nod is insufficient answer. Please respond verbally. Are you the owner of this slave?"

"Yes, Yer Honor," Logan said clearly. Damn, this was a waste of time. That was what it said on the paper, wasn't it? All the judge had to do was write his name on the last blank at the top of the page and he and Jubes could go home.

"And this slave is yours, free and clear, and there is no question of ownership?"

"Yes Yer Honor--" Logan started to say.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Your Honor," said a smartly dressed, uniformed man standing up from where he was sitting in the back of the room. "But this slave is a runaway, and Mr. John Logan is not her true master." Logan spun around, staring in disbelief.

"I have a report here of a slave who ran away from her master about a month and a half ago, from the neighboring town of Jonesboro," the army officer said, taking his hat off and facing the judge, ignoring Logan's stare. "The description of the slave matches the girl standing here. Moreover, the slave's master informs me that the slave is a branded body slave and therefore cannot be freed. The disputed slave is a slave for life." Logan stared at the man.

"Is this true?" the judge said. "Did you receive this slave as stolen property, and does this slave indeed bear a brand? Do you have a bill of sale?"

"I didn't get a bill of sale, it was a verbal agreement, an' everybody in town who was watchin' can witness she's mine. I ain't never seen a brand," Logan said, "But she most certainly does belong to me, I paid for her! Who's lyin' ta you?" he turned to the officer.

The judge looked down at Jubilee, standing trembling next to Logan. "Have you been branded, slave? I order you to speak!"

Jubilee's terrified whisper could be clearly heard in the suddenly silent courtroom. Everyone was sitting up straighter. This was a disruption in the normal routine of things. "What's branding, Sir?" she whispered.

The judge frowned. "Is she stupid? Feeble-minded?"

Logan fought down the angry words that threatened to escape. Losing his temper now was not going to get them home any faster. "She ain't stupid, Yer Honor." He turned to Jubilee. "Brandin's when someone takes a hot piece o' metal and pushes it against the skin till it leaves a permanent mark. Ya seen the mark on my cows? That number on the rump? That's a brand."

Her face went white under its healthy summer tan. "I have one," she croaked, her words barely audible. "But it's not a number, it's one of those letters you showed me last night. An 'S'. The Railmaster had the smith burn me with it when he put the collar on me."

Logan's face was a mask of rage and anguish. She was branded. She could never be freed. She was going to be a slave for the rest of her life. "Why didn't ya tell me?" he croaked.

She saw the look on his face, and tears flowed from her blue eyes. "I didn't know what it was for," she wailed. "Please, Logan, please don't be mad at me!"

He wrapped his arms around her. "I ain't mad," he said. "We'll just have ta find another way, is all." He would. There had to be another way.

"Where is this brand? Show it to me." The magistrate commanded.

Jubilee went even whiter. "Please," she choked out. "Please, he…he put it…he put it on my…" she whispered in Logan's ear.

Logan went white with shock, then red. So that was why he hadn't seen it, and also why she had rubbed her lower belly in her sleep. "Yer Honor," he said firmly, "She says the brand was placed on a sensitive part o' her body, and she don't wanna disrobe ta display it in front o' everyone here."

The magistrate shook his head. "The slave's wants is not relevant," he said. "She must display it to the court for visual proof. You will order her to display the brand."

Jubilee looked stricken, and Logan ground his teeth. "Yer Honor, ain't no way I'm gonna order her ta take her clothes off just ta satisfy yer interest. If she says it's there, it's there. Think she's gonna fergit somethin' what hurt that bad?"

The judge leaned forward. "You are refusing to obey my order to tell her to disrobe?"

Logan folded his arms. "Damn right."

The judge tapped the hammer on the desk. "So noted. Bailiff, let the record show that John Logan is sentenced to ten lashes in the public square for civil disobedience. Let the record also show that I am now ordering the slave to present her brand for inspection."

There was a tiny cry from Jubilee. She stepped forward and clung to Logan's arm. "No! You can't whip him! Please!"

Logan was indignant. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I have," the judge said calmly. "Now, slave, you are ordered to present your brand to the court for inspection. This is the fourth time I have ordered you to do so. You have disobeyed three prior direct orders. You will stand in the pillory for three hours following this proceeding, and receive six strokes of the lash upon your back. If you refuse again I shall order three more lashes and another hour in the pillory. Now display your brand for the court."

Jubilee was shaking. She gave Logan an anguished look, but her fingers went to her skirt hem and she began to remove her clothing. Logan pressed his lips together. "Yer Honor, I have told her she ain't supposed ta disrobe in front o' anyone. She was only followin' my order. She don't deserve ta be punished. Don't have her whipped." He swallowed hard. "Please." He hated begging, but to spare her any more pain and humiliation he would do it.

He might as well have saved his breath. The judge merely looked at him. "She still disobeyed my order. You will not save her from a public lashing, sir, so I suggest you hold your tongue before you bring any additional punishment upon yourself. A slave isn't worth it."

Jubilee pulled the rest of her underskirts out from beneath her dress and then pulled her white pantaloons off too. A lot of bare leg showed as she raised her skirt, then she slowly pulled down her underdrawers. Inside them was a lot of bloodstained rags, and her face was red with shame. Logan sucked in his breath. He'd forgotten this was her woman's time.

The judge said, "I cannot see over the rail. Come up here." Jubilee went even redder, but with a look at Logan, she stepped out of her skirts and pantaloons, then walked carefully out to the center of the courtroom. The judge bent forward, peered over, and said, "I see the brand. Bailiff, would you witness please?" The man stepped forward and looked closely at the front of Jubilee's hip, under her raised skirt. "I see the brand, sir."

Logan felt like he was going to be sick. Jubilee, his little Jubilee, had been branded on the thin, sensitive skin inside of her hip. How much must that have hurt? He couldn't imagine.

The judge rapped the hammer on the desk again. Logan wanted to take that hammer and smash it into that pompous face. "Slave is branded for life, and freedom is hereby denied." He ripped up the piece of paper on his desk. Jubilee's face went white as she stepped back behind the rail and quickly started to dress.

"Slave, were you told to dress?" he asked coolly. Jubilee froze. "Were you told to dress?" he repeated.

"No," she whispered.

The judge rapped that damn hammer again. "Slave will spend four hours in the pillory. Slave will also receive six lashes upon her back for disobeying my earlier order to disrobe. Sentence to be carried out immediately following the punishment of her master. Upon completion, the slave will be taken to the town jail while this court investigates John Logan's claim that the slave Jubilation Lee is rightfully is. So noted."