The Private Scrapbook

by Cadabra

Chapter 46: Retrial

Chapter 46: Retrial

The Apple grandchildren were in shock to read the articles taped in the scrapbook that were written during their grandmother's time in prison. Granny Smith smoothed out the Equestria Times article that had covered her trial. “I thought I was a goner,” she explained as she read about being found guilty. “I spent a whole six months in jail thinkin’ I’d never see anypony again. I was scared fer Kizzy, and I couldn’t do nothin’ from jail to help her. And that dog goned doctor didn't help with his snoopin' 'round neither. Thanks to him, I got a lil' too comfortable with them sedatives like I did with alcohol."

Having learned about drugs in Miss Cheerilee's class, Apple Bloom was shocked to hear her grandmother had to fight such a terrible battle in such an awful place. "Yer okay now, right granny?" she asked innocently.

Granny Smith was happy to give her worried granddaughter a comforting hug. "Darned tootin' I am!" she exclaimed, glad to see a smile return to Apple Bloom's face. "'Course I got that fella Focus to thank fer that. If it weren’t fer him, I’d probably still be in Foalsom…”

Dr. Crane and the prison guards passed Smithy's cell frequently, making sure that there was nothing in her cell to assist her in suicide. She had made attempts on her life since the failed trial, and it was their intention to see her go the full course on her punishment. The guards had to force her to eat, otherwise she would have gladly starved to death. Her weight had dropped significantly since the start of her prison sentence, dropping to a dangerously unhealthy level.

While Dr. Crane did his best to ween Smithy off of the sedative addiction he had accidentally given her, he still forced her to take medication to calm her iritic behavior. Otherwise the guards would have had a stark raving lunatic to deal with.

The days were becoming a blur to Smithy, so much so that she no longer bothered to read the newspaper that came with her tray of breakfast. Her days had become a dull routine of shower, eat, sleep, and nightmares that she just wished would end. Her restraints were the only thing keeping her alive at this point.

One morning, Smithy could hear several sets of hooves coming up to her cell. She was expecting to see either the guards ready to haul her to the showers, her daily tray of food and pills shoved into her cell, or Dr. Crane coming to try vainly to talk sense into her again. Instead she heard something unfamiliar thrown to the ground in front of her bars. Just hearing the new noise stirred Smithy out of her state of self-loathing.

She turned to see Princess Celestia and Focus standing before her. Celestia used her magic to loosen Smithy's restraints to allow her to see what it was that she set in her cell.

Unused to being unrestrained, Smithy reached her sore limbs above her head before rolling onto her feet. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hoof as she gingerly walked to the cell bars. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this here visit?” she said sarcastically, not even bothering to bow on her shaky limbs.

Princess Celestia slid a thick manila envelope into Smithy’s cell for her to look at. “It would appear your friend, Mr. Focus, has been a busy reporter,” she said flatly as Smithy opened the envelope and looked at photos of slave misery taking place around Equestria.

Smithy turned her moist eyes upon Focus, who smiled his support at her. “This here’s the proof I needed,” she said in a desperate whisper. “I can’t believe it iffn it weren’t right in front of mah eyes.”

Princess Celestia ended the exchange between the prisoner and the reporter. “There will be time for that later,” she said sternly. “Now that this evidence has been presented to me, I am calling for a retrial. My guards will be coming by shortly to collect you.”

Smithy could tell that the princess was feeling hurt and betrayed by the evidence presented to her by the pegasus reporter. She decided to bow down as a sign of respect, which Celestia quickly dismissed. “Yer highness?” she asked meekly, hoping not to come off as ungrateful. “Are ya alright? Ya look a lil’ upset.”

Princess Celestia turned away from the simple question. “My feelings are not what matters right now,” she replied in a very serious tone. “I only want to see this matter put to rest once and for all.”

As promised, the guards arrived and took Smithy off to her retrial. Once again, her wrists and ankles were clasped in chains, but unlike last time, Smithy was not dragged through the halls like a vagrant on her way to the castle.

There was a much smaller audience present for the retail than before. It was a relief to Celestia knowing that this trial was not being covered by every newspaper in Equestria. The press had a way of getting on her nerves, especially with how invasive they could be.

It was in the throne room that Smithy saw Crab Apple, who looked much worse for wear than she was expecting. He had grown a scraggly beard, and his eyes looked saggier from what she assumed was lack of sleep. He looked just as broken and defeated as her father did on the day of his trial. Crab Apple tried to smile for her sake as soon as he saw her, but Smithy could tell that he was having a hard time with his own imprisonment.

Up near the throne stood Carpet Bag, who looked nervous as Princess Celestia raised a hoof to calm the ponies present. She turned her attention to Focus, who was standing in front of everypony. “We will begin with these pictures you presented to me,” she said, lifting the manila envelope with her alicorn magic. “Based on the evidence you have presented to me just days ago, it would appear you have been flying all over Equestria taking pictures of cruel behavior toward zebra migrant workers. It looks like this is happening not just within this city, but nationwide.”

Focus nodded respectfully as the pictures levitated one by one out of the envelope. “Yes ma’am,” he said proudly as the photos hovered before him. “I really got my work cut out takin’ those. Da ones near da middle were taken here in Canterlot. I even got a few from your own palace zebras. Shame I couldn’t get shots of da senator here in action doin' da whippin’. I guess he gets others ta do his dirty work so creeps like me won’t catch him.”

Senator Carpet Bag ended the statement with an objection, which Princess Celestia accepted. “You are here to present evidence, Mr. Focus, not for slander,” he said. “Could this perhaps be a ploy for the Hoofington Post? I have noticed that subscriptions and sales of your newspaper have risen twenty percent since the trial six months prior.”

Focus backed off a bit due to the comment. “Yeah, I’ll get back on topic,” he replied. “I decided ta take these shots all over da kingdom after da trial ta see if what Smiddy and Crab Apple said was true. I thought it would make for a good follow up story, real juicy readin’ and such. Turned out I was onta somethin’ a lot bigger than I was barganin’ for. I started snoopin’ in every town, findin’ more and more cruelty everyplace I turned. Da last hundred or so come from Horse Shoe Bay. Dat’s where da zebras come inta Equestria.”

Celestia levitated a small selection of photos from Horse Shoe Bay in front of Carpet Bag. “Is this what happens to our esteemed guests?” she asked seriously, levitating a particularly gruesome shot in front of his eyes.

Carpet Bag bit his lower lip as he looked over the photo. “Clearly these have been staged!” he declared, pushing the photo away from his face. “Or perhaps they have been altered by magic! How could such a thing be happening behind either of our backs?”

Focus rolled his eyes as he took a roll of film out of his saddlebag. “I got da negatives,” he said as he gave them to Celestia. “Nothin’ but what I got. No stagin’, no fix ups. Just da facts.”

Crab Apple couldn’t help snickering at the comment. Smithy nudged him to stop the misbehavior, but he couldn’t help it. “He finally learns ta fact check,” he whispered in Smithy’s ear.

She put her hoof to his mouth to stop him from talking. “Just behave yerself,” she whispered back.

Carpet Bag looked over the photo negatives with disgust. “These are uncredible,” he stated. “Who in their right mind would ever agree to do something so horrific? Do you even have a witness?”

Walking up from the courtroom audience was a grimy looking griffon who politely raised his claw. “Zat witness would be moi, monsieur senator,” he said in a deep griffon accent. “I spoke with your Monsieur Focus after ze trial, and soon after we returned to ze Horse Shoe Bay. He took ze pictures zat you see before you, and several more over ze coming months.”

Carpet Bag eye balled the surprise witness. “And who are you to be making such a bold statement in the middle of our retrial?” he asked accusingly.

Once again, the griffon bowed to his superiors. “Pardonne moi for ze rude interruption, monsieur,” he replied. “I am Monsieur Guy LePeck, and I am a trader for ze Griffon Kingdom. Monsieur Focus has asked for moi to be his character reference.”

The introduction of a surprise witness had given Carpet Bag an idea. “So, Mr. LePeck,” he began, “please explain to the court why you were so willing to help our roving reporter. I do not see how hurting your own business is beneficial to you.”

LePeck chuckled slightly at the question, only to regain his composure when the princess looked his direction. “Pardone moi for ze outburst, Mademoiselle Princess,” he apologized. “You must understand zat zis is not mon first choice of a career. I became what I am because of gambling debts, and I have been repaying zem by making ze voyages with zebras. It is most unpleasant, but it is ze only way I can pay mon dues. I thought perhaps I could help end zis most unpleasant punishment by helping your reporter.”

Carpet Bag sneered at the griffin witness as he approached him. “Present us with proof of your debts, or do not dare speak anymore in this throne room,” he said angrily. “We are not stupid, Mr. LePeck. Anyone can say that they have debts that they must pay. How are we to know that you participate in our kingdom’s trade system due to debt without proof? How do we not know you are not just doing it for profit, using the tax bits of our nation to line your pockets?”

LePeck backed down after the senator’s arguments. “Pardonne moi, monsieur senator,” he apologized. “I was only trying to help make ze reference to your Monsieur Focus’s point.”

Princess Celestia broke up the argument between the griffon and her senator. “I thank you both for your contributions,” she said calmly as they quit arguing. “I believe we have other matters to attend to. Mr. Focus, you say that some of these photos come from my own castle?”

Focus picked out a few of his favorites that he had taken from within the slave quarters. “Dis one’s a beauty!” he said, bringing up a particularly gruesome photo of a zebra being whipped. “Happened right below your feet. Dis place must have some good sound deafening, ‘cause he was screamin’ his head off. Poor guy.”

Princess Celestia bit her lip as she looked at the photo, still finding it hard to believe something as horrible as this could be happening in her own home. “Senator Carpet Bag,” she said with a shaky voice, doing what she could to suppress the emotional response the photo brought her to. “Did you or anypony else condone this type of behavior?”

Carpet Bag shook his head in response. “Of course not!” he replied as he looked at the photo with the princess. “Clearly the reporter is lying. This could have been taken anywhere in the whole kingdom. We have no room like this in your entire castle. Your migrant workers live in a fine barracks with all accommodations taken care of. Not a one of them has been treated with such cruelty, nor should they ever.”

The objection was cut short as Celestia’s slave, Alabaster, entered the room. He bowed low to the princess, who was confused to see him without her having summoned him. “Alabaster, what is the meaning of this disruption?” she said to the zebra kneeling before her. “Can you not see that we are in the middle of a retrial? Would you please step aside until I need you?”

Alabaster rose slowly, this time making eye contact with the princess. “Forgive me, your grace,” he said as he began to remove his royal servants clothing.

Those present were uncomfortable as Alabaster removed layer after layer of elaborate clothing, especially Princess Celestia. “Please! This is indecent!” Celestia replied at the shameless display before her, jumping down from her throne to wrap her wings around the undressing zebra.

Alabaster continued removing his final layer against Celestia’s wishes. “Your majesty,” he said sadly as the last layer hit the ground, revealing a back full of scars. “Forgive me my behavior, but you have asked for proof of mistreatment in your castle. I bring before you only what I know is true.”

Princess Celestia gasped as she jumped away in horror from her scarred servant. “What is this?” she said as she gently touched the layers of scars on the zebra’s back, watching him wince at the fresher ones. “Who did this to you? How long has this been going on?”

Alabaster looked up at the princess with a sad smile, thankful for a chance to speak. “I have known this way of living since my youth,” he said gently, hoping to not incur the wrath of somepony who would surely take it out on him for talking out of place. “I was brought on a boat, where many died of disease. I was bought by the palace guards, and have lived in the basements ever since. When I misbehaved, I was beaten. It was there that I learned how to keep the whip off my back.”

Smithy noticed Carpet Bag begin to sweat as the truth was revealed, which was exactly what she was hoping for. Princess Celestia turned her teary eyes to the senator, who put on his best politician’s smile for her. “Is there an immigrant ship coming into port soon?” she asked in an uneasy tone.

Carpet Bag stammered at the question. “I, uh, don’t quite know,” he replied, trying to stall for time. “I fear I have left my schedule back at my office.”

From the crowd came LePeck with the answer that the princess was looking for. “Mademoiselle Princess! One will be coming in tomorrow at ze Horse Shoe Bay!” he hollered in his rustic griffon accent. “I will take you zere if you wish, if you don’t mind dirtying your hooves.”

Princess Celestia nodded gratefully to the merchant. “I thank you,” she replied, glad that the trial seemed to be getting somewhere. “If you do not mind leading the way, Mr. LePeck, we can travel on one of my royal air ships.”

The griffon gave a deep flourishing bow. “It would be an honor taking you to ze docks if you are up for le petite field trip,” he said. “Zis trade is, how you say, less zen savory among we ze poor of ze Griffon Kingdom.”

Comments

[The Mobius Strip]

AHAH, THE PLOT HAS BEEN THICKENED!

[Coffee Bear]

Griffins are French?

[Ice Star]

I like the griffons here being French-based instead of the more usual super warrior-culture and often German Empire-inspired creatures that a lot of stories tend to have them as.