CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES
A Sequel to `A Reversal of Fortune'
CHAPTER 2: `The Judgement'


This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over
the age of eighteen years.

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris)
An archive of my stories can be found at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"The characters and ideas contained in this story are the
writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect
the integrity of the story and don't do rewrites, make
alterations or add pictures."

Chapter 2: `The Judgement'

"Who's Guy Maratier? Do you know him? What can you tell me about
him?"

I'm surprised by the directness of Simon Barrow's questions. And
I am taken aback with the agitated manner of his asking.

Normally, Simon is deferential and polite when he addresses me.
I'm struck by the fact that he hasn't greeted me formally as is
his custom. Usually, I'd be annoyed by this, but something in his
manner tells me things aren`t quite as they should be. So I
choose to overlook his breach of etiquette and answer his
questions.

"I know of Guy Maratier but I don't know him and I've never met
him. He is a very distant relation of mine. Why are you asking?"

I choose my answers carefully. I have no wish to divulge to Simon
this unfortunate aspect of my family's history.

I'm aware of Guy Maratier. He is after all only one of three
living relatives; albeit a very distant one. His grandmother,
Charlotte Barrois was my grandfather's sister and his only
sibling who I never knew and who was never spoken of within the
family. As a child I was unaware of her and it wasn't until my
late-teens that I learned of her existence,

As a young woman she was noted for her beauty and high spirits
and was greatly loved by her parents. As a Barrois, she was
expected to make a suitable marriage with the son of another
pioneering family thus adding to the family`s prestige. Instead,
as I understand the story, she fell in love with a handsome,
young employee at La Forêt and disgraced herself and the family's
honour by falling pregnant to him. Considered a fortune hunter by
the Barrios family, the employee was dismissed and when he left,
Charlotte went with him. Outraged, the family cut all ties with
their errant daughter and dispossessed her.

Contrary to the Barrois opinion of him, the young man wasn't a
fortune hunter and from all accounts he and Charlotte were
genuinely in love. I'm not too sure of what happened to them. But
I did hear that as outcasts, their lives were made difficult.

Charlotte, of course, was ostracised by polite society and the
only work her husband could find was as an overseer of slaves on
the farms of the nouveau riche rather than the plantations of the
establishment; the old money families - always close knit -
refused to employ him out of respect for the Barrois family.

Initially, I was fascinated by this `skeleton in my family's
closet' and made recent discreet inquiries about this
unacknowledged branch of the Barrois. These disclosed that
Charlotte had a son who was born some years before my own
father's birth and he was her only child. Denied the education
and privileges enjoyed by my father, Charlotte's son had never
amounted to much and had drifted from job to job before drinking
himself into an early grave.

Unable to maintain a steady relationship, he managed to father
his one and only child, Guy before his marriage broke up. My
inquiries told me that Guy is eight years older than me and now,
at twenty-nine, he is married, but separated, and has an eleven
year old son named Etienne. Guy, like his father before him,
doesn't amount to much and prefers to live on his wits.

My curiosity satisfied, I'd promptly forgotten about this branch
of the family and haven't given any thought to them since. Until
now, that is, but why has Simon Barrow asked about Guy and in
what context? I'm a little perplexed.

"Well then! We could have a problem." Simon replies. "I have just
been informed that he has petitioned the court about your
grandfather's will."

"Why? I don`t understand?" My confused questions tumble out. "Can
he do that? What are his grounds for petitioning?"

"I don't know on what grounds he's based his petition. But yes!
If he's a relative of your grandfather's - he does have the right
to petition. Look I don't know any more about it than what I've
already told you. But we may need to go into court and make him
an offer. How do you feel about that, Lucien?"

"Is that really necessary?" Is all I manage to blurt out.

"Lucien, I would think this is all about money. Obviously, he's
after some of your money. While your grandfather's will was quite
explicit in that you are his sole heir - and that's legally
binding and no court will alter that - it could be easier if you
agree to give him a sizeable sum as a goodwill gesture. This
could prevent a protracted and messy ongoing battle through the
courts."

I can see the wisdom in what Simon is saying. It's clear that Guy
is looking to share in my good fortune and common-sense tells me
it's better to settle with him amicably rather than engage in a
costly and rancorous court battle. And certainly there are enough
funds in the estate to allow for this. Also, I ask myself - do I
want a public airing of the family's unhappy history? I decide I
will do all I can to prevent this.

"Alright, Simon! I see the wisdom of your suggestion. What amount
would you suggest we offer?'

"Let's play it by ear, shall we? We don't want to offer too much
for a start, Let's start small and work up and see how far he'll
push us? But I do have your permission to go into the court and
negotiate?"

"Yes!" I reply simply.

                                                              
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As we enter into the courtroom, I feel apprehensive and
intimidated. I've never been to a court before so everything is
strange and bewildering. The room itself isn't large; one could
say it has an air of intimacy about it. I'm not to know it's been
designed to put the litigants at their ease. Its primary function
is one of mediation and conciliation, unlike the adjoining courts
used for hearing criminal cases. Nevertheless, I do feel
confronted by it. I'm not here of my own free will; I've been
ordered to appear.

At the head of the room is a raised bench behind which, I presume
Judge Matthews will be presiding and below it are the ancillary
tables at which the court officials are already sitting. A court
bailiff directs the two of us to a table set to the left and in
front of the judge's bench - I'm to learn this is the
respondent's table - and in a corresponding position on the
judge's right is an identical table for the use of the
petitioner. Sitting at this table are two men whom I assume are
Guy and his lawyer.

It's not too difficult for me to decide which one is my relative
- I recognise in him a family resemblance to my late grandfather.
As I look at Guy, I see a tall, powerfully built man of striking
appearance. His long, auburn hair frames his handsome face and
even beneath his cheap clothes, I see he possesses an impressive
physique. I'm strangely drawn to him and I ask myself if this is
because of our common Barrois blood?

I have a sense of regret that we've met under these circumstances
and wished we had known each other through the lonely years of my
childhood. How I would dearly have liked an older `brother' to
look up to. Perhaps even now we can be friends. I'll certainly
make an effort to do so.

Then, he looks towards me and stares directly into my face. He
smiles but not in welcome. The sheer malevolence of his smile
causes my blood to run cold and I shudder as I see the hatred in
his eyes. Quickly, I avert my eyes and continue scanning the
room.

There is a small, public area set aside for visitors to the court
and it's already crowded by spectators - I wonder at their
interest in something as trivial as my routine visit to this
court. I'm to discover later that these are, in the main, friends
and supporters of Guy Maratier.

And seated in the front row of the public gallery are several men
equipped with cameras. I don't know it, but these are members of
the press alerted by Guy to this afternoon's hearing. He has told
them of the possibility of something unusual and newsworthy
happening and they sit bored and waiting. In their experience
nothing newsworthy EVER happens at the Court of Disputations.

As my gaze travels around the room I watch as several uniformed
officers of the court file in and line up against a wall. For
some unknown reason their presence disturbs me and makes me
fearful. Why are they here and for what purpose? I'm about to ask
Simon but am prevented from doing so by the shouted order of the
Judge's Clerk to.

"ALL STAND! For His Honour, Judge Clarence J Matthews.

We remain standing as His Honour takes his seat and the clerk
reads out the business of the court. The judge then asks if both
litigants are present and when told that we are, he asks that
both Guy and I remain standing. Our respective lawyers stand
alongside of us.

Judge Matthews reminds us that, whilst the proceedings will be
conducted informally, we are still in a court of law and that its
dignity is to be preserved. He tells our lawyers that he'll allow
them some latitude but won't tolerate any unruly interjections of
behaviour from either of them or their clients. Anyway, he tells
us the proceedings will be brief as a decision on the matter
before him has already been made and this afternoon's gathering
is simply a formality - it is an opportunity to deliver those
findings.

All of this is bewildering to me and I'm unaware of what matter
is before him that required his deliberation. As I glance
sideways at Simon, I note the perplexed look on his face. I am
disturbed by all of this.

His Honour addresses me and asks if I'm KNOWN as Lucien Henri
Barrios - as he does so, I sense his hostility towards me and I
note the disdain in his voice - I answer in the affirmative.

Then he asks Guy if he IS Guy Patric Maratier.

After answering "Yes, Your Honour" the judge gives Guy permission
to sit. In contrast, I am ordered to remain standing throughout
the proceedings.

I now know something is seriously amiss and this is re-enforced
by Simon' whispered protest to me of.

"What the fuck's going on?

Suddenly, I'm afraid.

In great detail, Judge Matthews now explains why we are here.


                                                           
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

If this court is designed to put its protagonists at ease then I
feel decidedly uneasy. I'm the only one standing - everyone else
is sitting - and inexplicably I feel "guilty". But of what crime
am I guilty?

I notice that the members of the public have a new interest in
the proceedings. It's almost as though they sense something
momentous is about to happen and they lean forward eagerly
listening to Judge Matthews. Even the journalists have stirred
from their lethargic boredom and are busily recording every word
of his deliberation.

The room is electric with anticipation.

I can't describe how I feel. I know something is amiss and now I
am really scared. What is happening is totally unexpected and I
still don't know what I have done and why I'm being treated this
way. I ask myself. What have I done? What is my crime? I rack my
brains thinking - what is my transgression?

As the only one standing, I feel like a criminal and I suppose I
must look like one to the rest of the court-room. Briefly I have
a flashback to the seven young convicts I'd just watched being
taken to the forge for branding and collaring as the first step
into their slavery.

Is this how they were treated when they appeared before the
courts? Did they have to stand as judgment was passed on them? My
bowels squirm and I feel the need to piss. My body trembles
involuntarily.

The stillness of the court-room is broken by the drone like pitch
of Judge Matthew's words and the occasional gasps of surprise
from an outraged public.  And as I listen, I too share their
disbelief. At another time and under different circumstances, I
would have shared their self-justified outrage. The story being
outlined by Judge Matthews is so shocking in its content that it
has the potential to shake the foundations on which a
slave-owning society rests. To a slave-holder, what the judge is
portraying is a heinous crime deserving of the strongest
condemnation.

As I listen to the judge's words, I'm mortally afraid and a
sideways glance at Simon Barrows face tells me my fear is
justified. As he listens to the Judge Matthew's deliberation, he
looks shocked and totally disbelieving of what the judge is
saying.

My mind reels at the judge's words as he details the case against
me.


                                                      
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Judge Matthews outlines to the court how shortly after the death
of Jean-Claude Barrois, - my grandfather - and the settlement of
his will in my favour, the Court of Disputations had received a
petition from Guy Patric Maratier claiming that the will was
illegal and asking for it to be set aside in his favour.

Judge Matthews tells us that at first he'd viewed the petition as
preposterous and determined to dispense with it quickly. And to
avoid any embarrassment to the illustrious Barrois family he
decided to do so in secret. However, as he considered the
petition, there were several compelling factors and documentary
evidence that made him reconsider his initial re-action to it.

In essence the petition suggested that the will was illegal in
declaring me as its sole beneficiary. It went on to say that I
had no legal standing under the law as I was slave-born. (At
this, the court erupts noisily and has to be brought to order).
I'm not sure whether the implication of these words registered in
my confused mind.

The petition stated Henri Barrois was indeed my father but my
mother however was a slave-woman known as Ophelia who was in the
service of the Barrois household. After my birth, the slave
Ophelia was sold but the family kept me and presented me to
society as its son and grandson.

At this point, Judge Matthews pauses to comment on the sense of
disgust he'd felt when he'd discovered this subterfuge on the
part of Barrois family. It is, he said an outrage that anyone
would foist a slave born child onto a trusting society and
present it as the family's heir. Further, he adds it is
fraudulent and disgraces the proud Barrois family. Once he'd
established that a fraud had been committed, he worked diligently
to right an evil wrong and to restore some measure of honour to
the tarnished Barrois name.

Returning to the petition, Judge Matthews tells us how he'd gone
to great lengths to establish the authenticity or otherwise of
Guy's claims. He'd managed to locate the slave, Ophelia, now an
elderly nanny to a family of five children, and he'd managed to
obtain a statement from her supporting Guy's petition.

Of course, the judge hastens to remind us that the evidence of a
slave is inadmissible to a court unless that evidence is obtained
under `duress'. The slave Ophelia had given her evidence under
duress and therefore the judge had accepted it as the truth.

But even then, he wasn't completely satisfied and, in the
interests of justice, he had DNA samples taken from both Ophelia
and myself. Just how he'd managed to extract my DNA is open to
conjecture and he didn't elaborate on this. Still, I often attend
social activities and I suppose
it would be easy for someone to secretly obtain a sample of my
DNA.

The ethics or morality of his actions don't seem to worry the
judge; he goes on to justify his actions by saying that if the
test refuted Guy's claims then it was done in my best interests
but if it established that I was indeed slave-born then no harm
was done as slaves don't have rights under law. Anyway, he
concludes, it needed to be done in the interests of justice.

The tenor of his arguments and the ominous tone of his voice
confirm my worst fears. The inference in his words already sees
me as a slave. I am doomed. What is to happen to me?

The court is brought to a shocked hush as Judge Matthews now
hands down his findings. My world is crashing down around me.
Less than an hour ago, I was Lucien Henri Barrois sole possessor
of the family's fortune and full of the pride and arrogance of
the rich and powerful. Now it appears that all this is to be
stripped away from me leaving me where and as what ........?

Trembling from a mixture of shock, uncertainty and fear, I
struggle to listen as Judge Matthews's hands down his decision.
It is devastating for me.

Judge Matthews tells us once more of his disgust at the
machinations of my grandfather and father in presenting me to
polite society as a legitimate member of their family and at
their cruel betrayal in denying the existence of a true heir of
the blood in the person of Guy Maratier.

At this juncture, he pauses and offers Guy the court's profound
expression of regret at this deplorable action on the family's
part. He goes on to tell Guy how pleasing it is for him
personally to be able to rectify the situation. I look across at
Guy and see him smiling broadly as he acknowledges the judge's
sentiments.

Returning to his judgment, Judge Matthews tells us that my
father, Henri hadn't broken any laws in impregnating the slave
-woman, Ophelia. He was only exercising the rights of a young
master in using a slave for his own pleasure - all perfectly
legal and understandable. He tells us there are no laws which
prohibit a young, free man from `sowing his wild oats' with a
female slave.

Quite the contrary, His Honour opines. Such actions are to be
commended for they safeguard the virtuous reputations of our
noble womanhood.

But he adds that the law is quite explicit when it comes to the
status of any progeny born from such a liaison; it is and remains
a slave unless manumitted by the `father'. A close scrutiny of
the records had shown no such manumission had occurred and
therefore the legal status of the individual known to us as
Lucien Barrois is that of a slave.

The silence of the court-room is broken by my anguished scream
of, "NOOOOO......!"

Shocked by this, I collapse into my seat.

My outburst earns me a stern rebuke from the judge and he orders
the court guards to restrain and gag me. I struggle futilely in
their firm grasp as my hands are fastened behind my back and I
have a gag placed in my mouth. As they do so I`m conscious of the
room being lit up by camera flashes. I`m not to know my story and
its accompanying pictures will soon be front page news and will
set tongues wagging over many a dinner-table where once I`d sat
as a welcomed and honoured guest.

I'm shaking uncontrollably and sobbing hysterically into my gag
as I listen to Judge Matthews return to delivering his verdict.

"I find that the petition is upheld and I further find in favour
of the petitioner, Guy Patric Maratier"

There is a triumphant shout from my distant cousin and the court
breaks into shouts and loud handclapping from his supporters. The
judge watches indulgently; the excitement of the petitioner and
his friends is perfectly understandable. Judge Matthews is
pleased - Justice has been served and he is its worthy
Instrument.

He waits patiently until the noise subsides and resumes his
deliverance.

"I rule that the individual presented to this court as Lucien
Henri Barrois is slave born and the progeny of a casual liaison
between Henri Barrois and one of his slave women, called by the
name Ophelia. In the absence of any `Document of Manumission'
granting him freedom, I further rule that the legal status of the
individual known as Lucien Henri Barrois is that of a slave and I
order that he be returned to immediate slavery. He is no longer
entitled to bear the name by which he has been known to date and
in the absence of any other name he shall now be referred to
simply as the `slave'. And of course, he IS the property of the
Barrois estate."

These words don't penetrate into the swirling maelstrom of my
mind and I don't hear as Judge Matthews continues.

"My findings do in fact invalidate the will of the late
Jean-Claude Barrois in that he nominated a slave as his heir and
sole beneficiary. His actions in seeking to elevate a slave above
his true station are reprehensible and endanger the very fabric
of our society. It has distressed me to no end that a name as
illustrious as that of Barrois could perpetrate so vile a crime.
However, I have to some extent been able to mitigate their guilt
in this by looking closely at the will and establishing that Guy
Patric Maratier is in fact the true and sole heir to the Barrois
estate. I therefore declare him as the true successor by both
blood and birth to the Barrois fortune."

Again the court-room erupts as Guy's friends and supporters in
the public gallery break into loud cheering.

"Mr Maratier, you have my heartiest congratulations on your good
fortune and I express my sincerest regret at the unfair and quite
spiteful treatment of the late Jean-Claude Barrois in seeking to
deny you your birth-right. I derive much personal satisfaction in
righting a great wrong. But now we need to get down to the
serious business of transferring the Barrois estate over to you.
Already, I have court officials working on this and over the
coming days they'll help you to establish your authority over the
various Barrois enterprises."

I still stand uncomprehending of what is happening to me. The
judge's words swirl around me.

"Mr Maratier, no doubt you'll want to take immediate possession
of your town residence and the plantation known as La Forêt. To
help you do this I'll send a court bailiff with you to establish
your ownership of them as soon as proceeding here are finished
and I order Mr Simon Barrow to assist you in every way possible.
I can count on your co-operation, can't I Mr Barrow?"

"Indeed you can, Your Honour." Simon answers as he hastily leaves
my side and moves over to Guy's table.

I now stand alone. Completely, utterly and devastatingly alone!
I'm now a slave without a friend in this court and indeed, as I'm
to find out in coming days, without one in the wider world.

"Mr Maratier. What are your wishes regarding your slave?" The
judge's question crashes through my conscious and I'm aware that
it's me he's referring to.

"How do you mean, Your Honour?" Guy asks.

"Well the slave is your property, Mr Maratier. What do you want
done with him. He's now yours to do with as you please. That is,
once he's been processed through the courts. We will need to
issue you with `documents of ownership' for him. Do you have a
name for him that we can use to register him under or do you
intend to let him remain unnamed?"

Guy pauses as he considers this before answering. "Rafe, Your
Honour. I want to call him Rafe."

"That's' spelt R-A-F-E is it? The judge asks. "We must get the
spelling correct."

"Yes, Your Honour."

"That's an unusual name, Mr Maratier. Nevertheless it's a good
name for a slave - brief and straight to the point. Why did you
choose it, Mr Maratier?"

"Your Honour. When I was a boy I had a dog named Rafe."

"Ahh! I see it's pet's name. Do you intend to keep your new slave
as a pet, Mr Maratier?

"No, not at all, Your Honour. He was the Barrois family's pet for
far too long. It's my intention that he'll now experience life as
a working slave. I'll be putting him to hard labour."

"I commend your decision, Mr Maratier. The slave is eminently
suited for heavy duty work. I congratulate you. It could be said
this is your first decision as the head of the Barrois
enterprises. If you keep making those types of level-headed
decisions, then I know the businesses are in good hands. But tell
me Mr Maratier, is it your intention to retain the name of
Barrois for your various businesses or are you  to change them to
Maratier? You're perfectly entitled to do that, you know."

"To be honest with you, Your Honour. I haven't thought about
that. After all, I couldn't pre-empt your decision could I?"

"Indeed not, Mr Maratier. That was very wise of you."

"I would need to think carefully about that. It would mean
changing the companies' name and logo. And I would think -
although I don't know for sure -that all the Barrois slaves wear
the Barrois brand."

"A minor concern, I should think, Mr Maratier. You could always
re-brand your slaves on another part of the body with your own
logo; more or less putting your stamp on them. Certainly there
would be a few legal necessities to be attended to in changing
the name and logo of the various Barrois enterprises but
re-branding the slaves is a decision for you alone to make.
They're your property, after all. With regard to changing the
name of the companies, I'm sure Mr Simon Barrow would be willing
to assist you with this. Isn't that so, Mr Barrow?"

"Absolutely, Your Honour! I'd be delighted to assist Mr Maratier
in any way I can."

"I'm sure you would, Mr Barrow." The judge adds sarcastically.
"There you are then, Mr Maratier. Call on Mr Barrow to assist
you. And I strongly urge you to do so. This whole unsavoury
affair is likely to cause a backlash against anything bearing the
Barrois name When this unhappy event becomes known, the public
will be justifiably angry at the Barrois family's unscrupulous
attempt to foist a slave onto society. I'm afraid Mr Maratier
that the Barrois name is now sullied and irredeemable. In your
own interests, I urge you to use your name rather than the
disgraced Barrois name. The public will, I'm sure, understand and
accept the necessity for you to do this."

"Thank you for your wise counsel, Your Honour. I see the wisdom
of what you're saying and will take immediate steps to implement
the changes you suggest. I'm grateful for your good advice."

"I'm glad I can help and I wish you good luck. Remember, if you
encounter any difficulties, I stand ready to assist. Now let us
return to your slave, Rafe. You're quite sure about the name
you've chosen for him. It's your wish that the slave be known as
Rafe?"

"Yes, Your Honour. I'm quite sure,"

"Then in future, the slave is to be called Rafe." Judge Matthews
rules.

I listen in shocked disbelief at my dispossession. In less than
an hour, I have lost my fortune and my freedom and I've also been
stripped of my humanity. I no longer have the name I'd borne all
my life and that identified me as a free person; I am now a slave
called by the name my new master has chosen for me.

I'm no longer Lucien Barrois, freeman; now I'm the slave, Rafe. I
am at rock bottom. Things can't get worse for me. How wrong I am.

"There now remains only the physical examination of the slave as
a preliminary to filling in his papers and then he'll need to be
branded and collared before he is taken from the court's
precincts." The judge continues, "Once that has been done, the
slave is yours to take with you should you so desire. You
indicated earlier that he is to be put to hard labour. Is it your
wish to keep him for such duties or do you want him sent to the
dealers for sale as a work slave, Mr Maratier?"

"No, Your Honour. I intend to keep him whilst I decide his
future." Guy answers quickly.

"I assume the slave is unbranded? Perhaps we should check whether
or not that is so?" Judge Matthews comments, "Bailiff! Unfasten
the slave's hands and have him disrobe for the court please."

I'm totally unprepared for this and listen in shocked horror at
the judge's instructions. Through my consternation, I hear the
ripple of conversation from the watching spectators who are, no
doubt, excited at the prospect of my ultimate humiliation and the
sight of my enforced nakedness.

This eagerness on their part is soon to be shared in the wider
community. I'm about to become a `cause célèbre', one much
discussed and debated, widely despised, absolutely reviled and
the subject of much voyeuristic curiosity.

I wait as the guards unfasten my wrists; incongruously I think
that tonight I was meant to share the podium with the Governor as
he outlines his tough new stance on the state's slavery laws. My
former name was meant to add substance to his proposals. I don't
realise it, but it won't be the prestige of the former Lucien
Barrois who gives strength to his arguments. Rather tonight,
he'll use the unhappy saga of the slave, Rafe to rail against the
abolitionists and do-gooders and to scare the public into an
acceptance of his extreme policies.

In fact, it will be the story of Rafe which wins the election for
the Governor and give him the excuse to implement even more
draconian laws controlling the already miserable lives of slaves
than the ones he'd previously proposed.

Life for slaves is about to become even harder than it currently
is. After The Governor's successful re-election, masters will be
allowed to work their slaves longer and harder and to subject
them to even harsher punishments than they already suffer.

This will be the unintended result of my downfall. I, as the
slave Rafe, will be the cause of their increased misery and
suffering and I will share in their hardships.

To be continued .......................






