[Arno Everett/et al.]

        John the wainwright waved Marisa and the other ladies into the box
before him, not in a hurry to take his seat.  A nod to Brion Hillrover,
with whom he had lifted many a mug in the Dragon's Inn, and a glance about
the room. Many folk he recognized, many he did not -- such was Montfort,
John concluded, and thus it would always be.

        They were seated no more than a minute before bid to rise again.
Brion's deep voice resonated throughout the chamber, announcing the
arrival of the judge.  When Allenel Gilford entered, a sheaf of papers in
his hand, his black gown was neatly pressed and clean.  He did not quite
meet the eyes of anyone as he took his seat on the high podium and struck
the gavel one, twice, thrice.  Nor did he quite look at anyone as Brion
instructed all in the chamber to be seated and announced the matter to be
considered by the court.

        "Counsel," Allenel began -- dispensing with any speech and
proceeding directly to the issue at hand -- "I note that the witnesses are
all present in the courtroom.  Will there by any motion to sequester?"

        Arno Everett considered the tips of his shoes.  "The Crown takes
no position on the issue, Your Honor.  It is our belief that the witnesses
can render their testimony without being tainted by that given by others
before them."

        "I'm not sure I share your optimism," Allenel remarked before
turning to Perrin Mayce.  "And the defense's position?"

[Perrin Mayce]

Perrin stood and spoke in one of his many defiant tones... this one
slightly more respectful than most of the others he'd employed as of late:

"I must protest these proceedings on the grounds that essential witnesses
are NOT present.  A cursory review of written accounts will reveal that
there are two additional individuals which must be present in order for
any decision of my client's guilt or innocence to be fair and complete."

Perrin remained standing, fully prepared to go into great detail... and
length... on the matter.  All it would take was for someone to 'dare' him
to explain himself... which would be happening any second now...

[Fillip]

Fillip shot a quick, fugitive, look at his lawyer; then went back to
studying the far wall of new, polished, wood. His mouth felt dry but he
managed not to lick his lips - he knew that would be a far too obvious
sign of nervousness and fear. And he didn't want these petty souls to see
that _he_ was afraid of them!! Despite the fact that his heart felt like
it was trying to pound a hole through his ribcage.

_No_!! He wouldn't show them that he was afraid. He was born of far better
blood than all of them here and he wasn't about to let such rabble defeat
his spirit. Even if they bound him with their cruel fetters!!

With these rousing thoughts going through his racing brain Fillip lifted
his head and proudly surveyed the courtroom. For a moment he looked to be
what he could have been - if his spirit hadn't been shattered in the
nursery - a man full of fire and talent. His dark brown hair shown in the
light, and his refined bones shown in proud profile.

Brown eyes, rimmed with black circles, glared out at the assembled court;
a hunted gaze showing stark against white, taut, skin.

[Magda Nightwalker]

The dark haired woman sighed inaudibly as the proceedings began.  Trial
was never a timely affair, nor did the subtle interplay of the law hold
any great attraction for her.  But Bryce had sent her to observe, and so
observe she would.  She noted the defiant look that Fillip gave the
courtroom and met his glare with her own dark blue eyes.  ~He'll make a
pretty corpse,~ she thought.

[Brawl]

Glowering at that one yonder, the one whose predilection for gossip filled
many with dismay, fear of their own being framed in less than glorious
light, Brawl gave the progenitor of that mischief a stern glance; the
minotaur would not be likewise made the stuff of the next paper's tall
tales and calumnic accounts.  But there was Chisholm was, all the same to
take his fill: reveal the dirt and mire, and some would swiftly wallow
therein.

Letting the talk of the proceedings, witnesses and the like flow by on
waters of disinterest, the minotaur yawned, a deep and resonant sound
which carried well across the expanse of the court chamber.

By the gods, but a brief time passed and it already seemed as an eternity;
a greater length, redoubtable as he was -- how might he endure that?

[Theesa]

"What?"  she whispered to the person beside her.  "More witnesses?"

[Crofton Lyons]

"I guess so, Ma'am." Crofton, the red-haired stationary's apprentice, gave
the pretty woman next to him a bright, but fleeting, smile. He knew to
keep his voice low, but he was relieved to have a chance to say something;
anything to distract him from the urge to draw. He hated not having
anything to do with his hands.

[Allenel]

        Allenel paused just long enough to allow the echo from the
minotaur's yawn to fade from the courtroom, and the rest of the spectators
to finish their rustling and murmurs.  "I am quite familiar with the
record, counselor," he responded to Perrin Mayce quietly.  "And I have
read the motion papers you have submitted.  However, the Crown is prepared
to proceed with its case.  The question before you is simply this -- Does
the defense ask to have the witnesses removed from the courtroom so that
their testimony will not be colored by the testimony presented by others
before them?"

        Among the spectators, Archie Chisholm scribbled descriptions of
the audience, the witnesses, the jury.  When Brawl had looked at him,
Chisholm had simply beamed back a smile in response, unperturbed by the
minotaur's glare.  A right fierce creature he was, to be sure -- yet,
Archie reminded himself, he should be sure to note that the minotaur was
captain of the guard for the Healer's Hall, a noble and worthy cause.
-'A beast with a tender heart for the sick and helpless'?- he wondered.
He would have to work on the description more.

        Now the ladies -- quite a lovely set they were in the jury.  He
would have to make sure to get the full name of the willowy blonde, Theese
something or other.  The public would surely wish to hear of her beauty,
how she would listen to every word of testimony ...  If things worked out
well, perhaps she would even sigh, clutch her handkerchief to her snowy
bosom, shed a few tears for the heinously murdered Denlira.  What an
account that would be!

        Happily lost in imaginings of anticipated events, Archie
momentarily lost track of what was actually being said in the courtroom.

[Perrin Mayce]

"Hmph!"  Perrin huffed.  "Well, if the court is content to initiate
proceedings to deprive my client of his liberty... and quite possibly his
life... without the benefit of a full complement of witnesses, then there
is nothing I can say or do to prevent it.  But I DO hope that the OTHER
court... the court of public opinion... will be more understanding when
news of this rushed travesty of their justice is made known to all.
Oh... and yes, I would like the witnesses removed."

Perrin sat down.

[Serun/etc]

::Fast was the Limpia's justice,:: Serun sent to Elenia as they observed
the proceedings from the visitors' benches.

Elenia lightly squeezed her friend's large hand, and answered, ::Some,
mercifully, will never have to know just how precious the right to dispute
and argue can be.:: She brushed back her brown curls and smiled,
reassuringly, towards the witnesses. She felt for Lucc. She suspected what
weight he carried in his heart, and knew he struggled with the desire to
see justice done for the murdered girl, and the knowledge that for the
sake of Montfort even the harshest truths had to be laid out in the light
of day.

::Growing pains,:: Serun sent, ::For us and for the town......:: His gaze
fell on Elektra, and the grim set to her lovely mouth. The command of
silence rode hard on all four soul friends, but harder still between Lucc
and she. The blacksmith's apprentice sighed. Again they were being
tempered for the sake of their home and land.

They watched as Brion went signaled the witnesses to their feet, and
awaited Allenel's signal.

[Allenel/et al.]

        Mayce's other comments Allenel let pass, and instructed that the
witnesses be escorted from the courtroom.  When he looked over the
jury-box again, waiting for Brion's return, his eyes did not pause on any
face, even those most familiar to him.  Marisa and John both looked like
they wanted to be nearly anywhere else; and if he could have made it so,
he would have.  The girl should be planning her wedding, after all.

        Once Brion had returned to his station, Allenel nodded to Arno
Everett to begin his opening statement.  The prosecutor stood again, bowed
to the bench, and stepped closer to the jury box.  He paused to clean his
spectacles before beginning to speak.  His words were evenly spoken, and
as he walked back and forth down the length of the jurors, his eyes met
those of each juror, as if speaking to them individually.  The spectator's
gallery he ignored, as if uncaring what the on-lookers thought of his
performance.

        The opening was less theatrical than it might have been.  Perhaps
even disappointingly even-handed, judging by the expression on Archie
Chisholm's face.  Arno Everett's concern, it was apparent, was not to
awaken any lurid imaginings -- but merely to tell the jurors the charges
against the defendant:  The murder of the girl, Denlira, Arno Everett
first explained, was the greatest of all.  The jurors would hear how the
accused and the unfortunate young woman lived in the shanty-town.
"Residents of that neighborhood will appear before you and tell you what
they saw and heard, what passed in that small shack, and what end came to
is."  He did not go into detail about Denlira's fate -- most likely, many
of them already knew, but said only that they would learn more about the
girl's fate throughout the trial.

        At the end, walking back to his table, he stopped, remembering
something forgotten, and turned back to the jury-box.  An after-thought,
perhaps, the other charges arising from the assault upon the envoy, and
the outline he gave of the evidence to come on that was sketchier still,
as if the attack upon the Crown's representative was at best a secondary
concern, paling against the terrible things that were done to Denlira,
Montfort's own daughter.  When he finally yielded the floor to defense
counsel, it was with one more bow.

[To be continued.]