[ADMIN - This segment was posted to the newsgroup under the title:
"Montfort Festering Sewer," Defense Counsel Says]

[Perrin Mayce]

Perrin and his assistant William were jostled about when the carriage came
to a sudden halt just inside the city gates.  Though the Menagrim's travel
allowance paid for immediate, private conveyance from Bleckner to
Montfort, the quality of service left a lot to be desired.

William groaned as he picked himself up off of the floor.

"You all right, William?" said Perrin.  The athletic, brown-haired lawyer
had weathered the bumps and jostles with his usual, almost unnatural
poise.

"Y-yes sir."  William brushed the dust off of his clothes and gathered up
their belongings.  He threw the packs over his narrow, sloping shoulders
and stumbled out of the carriage after his employer.

"William... be a good man and find us a room.  Here,"  Perrin pulled a
small drawstring bag from his tunic and handed it to William.
Unfortunately William's hands were full, so the thin blond youth took the
money-bag in his teeth and shook his head in exasperation.  The gold coins
rattled.

"Sir... ferhaps sis isn't...  se best way to for me to be walking around
in an unfamiliar city..."

"Oh for heaven's sake..."  Perrin grabbed a satchel from William, allowing
his assistant to re-arrange his items.  "I'll carry my OWN papers since
you seem unequal to the task this morning."

"Thank you, sir.  Don't suppose I can convince you to carry these law
books as well-"

Perrin had already walked away.  He approached the driver of the carriage
who was watching them with no lack of amusement.

"My good man, in most CIVILIZED areas of the kingdom, it is customary for
drivers to carry city maps for the benefit of their patrons.  It may be
too much to ask considering our location, but-"

"I gots maps.  One gold each."

"One Gold!  For a MAP!  That's Robbery!"

"No, that's the price.  One Gold."

"Fine!"  Perrin handed the swarthy driver two gold coins, and received two
parchment scrolls in return.  He handed one to William and examined his
own.

"Montfort... gods what a mess,"  he said.  "Three taverns on every street
corner... squalor and avarice on every block.  And the corruption..."
Perrin took a deep breath, "I can SMELL it..."

"Sir, these bags are getting heavy..."

"Our client is being held by the Tower Guard.  I'll go there
straight-away;  you meet me when you've settled our arrangements.  And do
hurry, William... you know how I hate to take my own notes."

"Yes, sir."

William waddled off in one direction while Perrin strolled defiantly
toward the Tower.

[Archibald Chisholm]

        "--so I says to her, `Madam, I wouldn't even think of taking such
a liberty with your bosoms,'" Archie Chisholm said to the guardsman
standing to the right of the door, before taking a quick sip from his mug.
"I actually think she was a bit disappointed, but --" he shrugged, "-- it
did help avert an unfortunate encounter with her husband's walking stick."

        The round-faced ginger-haired man took another drink and surveyed
the street.  The guards weren't the most talkative pair he had ever
encountered, but they were pleasant enough, and had agreed to let him
finish his ale outside before he ventured within to scavenge what bits of
information might be available from those in closer proximity to the
prisoner.  Barnbas Portnoy had been damnably close-lipped about the whole
affair, observing only that Montfort seemed to be in a fine fix and
refusing to let slip even the smallest detail about what the Council --
and most importantly, Allenel Gilford -- thought about the matter.

[Perrin]

With his map in one hand and his heavy satchel in the other, Perrin
approached the main door and paused.  He eyed the two guards and raised an
eyebrow at the other man that had been annoying them.

"I..."  Here, he paused for dramatic effect.  "...am Perrin Mayce.
Defense counsel for the accused, Fillip Menagrem."

Perrin sat his satchel on the ground, placed his map inside it and
withdrew his credentials.  He held the official parchment up so that the
guards could see it.

"Official credentials.  I demand immediate entry so I can speak with my
client."

...Perrin thought for a second, then added:

"Immediate means 'right away.' As in 'now.'"

[Archie]

        The announcement nearly made Archie waste a whole mouthful of ale
by spewing it in surprise all over the nearest target.  That,
unfortunately, might have been this Mayce fellow himself -- which would
have unhappily destroyed the man's air of dignity.  Best for Archie, and
Perrin Mayce, though, the ginger-haired erstwhile and perhaps-soon-to-be-
again publisher managed to turn his head and swallow the ale.

        While the men at the gate dealt with the new arrival, Archie took
a couple of steps away, patted his vest pockets, and eventually pulled out
a wrinkled and stained notepad and dull pencil.  He waved a quick hand at
the nearest passing street-urchin, scribbled a note, and then pressed the
same into the child's dirty hand, along with two coppers.  "Five more of
those from the recipient," he said softly to the boy.  When the child
stared at him blankly, he added, "when you get it there."  Softer still,
he whispered the name to the child.  "And bring me back a bottle of ale,"
he added more loudly, as the boy scampered off, dodging the crowd.

[Gatekeeper]

He looked at the poppinjay that stood at the gate, looking rather self
important and took an instant dislike.

"I's know what immediate means but you are here past the time when visits
are allowed. So before you next demand you be needin' to speak to the
Sheriff. If'n you wait right 'ere I will send someone ta get 'im."

The gatekeeper signalled to one of the younger Guard and whispered
something in his ear. The young Guard 'walked' across the train yard
toward the Sheriff's office.

The Gatekeeper turned back toward Perrin, "The Sheriff will be 'ere
shortly, Mr. Marcie."

[Archie Chisholm]

        "That'd be Sheriff Jonathan Armand," Archie added, stepping
forward again to interject himself into the `conversation.' Not much of a
conversation at all, in fact, since the newcomer already had managed to
displease the gatekeeper with his pompousness.  Not that pomposity
bothered Archie.  Few things bothered Archie, except a shortage of ale and
gossip.  ""Archibald Chisholm," he introduced himself, extending one hand.
"Owner and publisher of the local rag, The Montfort Mime.  Or I will be
one day, if I can ever get into the building."  The continued obstinance
of Rosh Valdokka's enchanted revolving door didn't bother him either.
The longer he could go without actually publishing the Mime, the more time
he could spend in the Dragon's Inn.  "Would you care to make a statement
on behalf of your client, counselor?"

[Perrin]

Perrin ran a critical eye up and down the man who had introduced himself.
The unpleasant-looking sot seemed to ooze aggravation, and since he had
identified himself as a reporter, it was highly unlikely that Perrin would
be rid of him any time soon.

"No, Mr. Chisholm... there is not now, nor will there EVER be a statement
from me.  This is a matter of law, not a media event.  You want a story,
you will have to come to the proceedings and find it yourself... unless,
of course, that's too much like honest work."

[Archie]

        "Oh, yes, yes, I do intend to be there," Archie agreed with an
easy smile.  His hand dropped to his side as if he hadn't even noticed
that Perrin Mayce had refused to take it.  "I just thought you might want
to let the public know your and your client's position on things.  After
all, those who'll speak against him will be having their say.  And, you
know, rumor has it that the powers that be in Bleckner have sent word that
the trial will be held here, so what's said here might mean more than it
would otherwise. Public sentiment and all that."  He shrugged, and spread
his hands.  "It seems wrong to let just one camp's stance be circulated,
but I understand your reticence in such a case where the evidence is so
clearly against the accused."

        He fished out his rumpled notebook again, wetted the end of the
blunt pencil with his tongue, and muttered as he wrote, "Defense counsel
declined ...  no, no," he marked out the word, "could formulate no
response -- yes, that's it -- to the rumors that have been circulating
about his client's murderous deeds.  `There is not now, nor will there
EVER," underlining for emphasis, "`be a statement from me.' Habitues of
some circles believe ... no, no, speculate ... that this indicates that
Mr. Mayce realizes ... has acknowledged?"  Archie considered the sky for a
moment.  "Hmmm, realizes will do for now.  -- realizes that his client
hasn't a leg to stand on."

        Archie looked up from the notepad and beamed at Perrin Mayce.  A
look of consternation passed over his face, and he turned to make certain
his mug of ale remained where he had set it.   After a quick sip, he
turned back to the lawyer.  "They say he knows how to use a knife quite
well," Archie remarked with a note of curiosity.  "Quite proud of himself,
too.  Terrible thing he did to that girl, defenseless as she was and so in
love with him."  Archie shook his head, tsking in disapproval, and
scribbled something else in his notebook, murmuring at the same time, "...
callously disposed of the poor lass's body in an unmarked grave..."

        He really would have to figure out how to get past that revolving
door at the Montfort Mime.  Perrin Mayce seemed to be ready to make it
easy for him.  Either way -- a tirade about the local government running
rough-shod over a scapegoat, or an impassioned campaign against a
cold-blooded, heartless mageling -- would sell papers.  Based upon this
initial encounter, it looked to be the latter option.  "Tell me," Archie
asked, looking up again from the notebook after flipping back through the
pages to confirm something written earlier, "is it true what they say
about his ... um, how shall I put this delicately? ... his `social'
history?"

[Perrin Mayce]

	"Perhaps you feel that matters of guilt and innocence are decided
in the court of public opinion as opposed to their rightful venue... the
court of LAW.  I would expect as much from a...man... such as yourself.
But let me assure you that not ALL of the facts in this case have been
seen the light of day.  There are factors at work here that your besotted
mind cannot even BEGIN to grasp.  But I... Perrin Mayce... WILL grasp
them.  I will wrestle with them and drag them kicking and screaming from
their hiding places.  I will THRUST them into scathing light of justice,
where EVERYONE can see the DEPTHS to which the corrupt city will go to
unjustly deprive my client of his life and liberty... ALL for the sake of
saving its own festering hide!"

[Archie]

	Archie blinked at the man in some astonishment, started to
scribble something into his notebook, and then stopped, uncertain where to
begin.  "So that would be an affirmative answer?" he suggested helpfully.
"Even the part about the ... er ... unfortunate incident with the
three-legged goat?"

[to be continued]