[Meanwhile ...]

[Runner]

He came to the Sheriff's office, "Excuse me Sheriff, but there is
someone at the gate who wants to speak to the murderer."

Armand looked up at the runner, "Do not speak like that, he is not to be
called a murderer as yet that is unproven. Return to the gate and escort
the man here."

His head hung down slightly, "Aye sir," he replied as he turned toward
the door.

He ran across the yard and came up next to the Gatekeeper and whispered
in his ear.

[Gatekeeper]

"If you will follow the Guard here, he will take you to the Sheriff."

[Archie]

        Fortunately, the announcement came before Perrin Mayce saw fit to
thrash him -- a course of action which Archie suspected was a definite
possibility for the defense attorney to undertake.  He flipped his
notebook closed and slid it into his shirt-front pocket, tucking the
pencil behind his ear.  "Just a helpful word of advice," he added softly
to Perrin Mayce, back half-turned to the guardsmen.  "You have a hard row
to hoe here, counselor.  And you might have yourself worked into a lather
about your client's mistreatment.  But like this city or not, if you make
too many more speeches like that where you can be heard," and he had been
heard, folks had stopped to gawk at the outburst, and Archie was sure the
stories already were spreading, "and they might just hang your client for
no other reason than you making an ass of yourself."  He stopped a moment
to smile over his mug at the crowd.

        "Don't be stupid," he added even more softly.  "You know that
regardless of what the law and the facts are, public opinion will play a
large part in what happens to your client.  Treat these people like the
denizens of a sewer, and scorn them, and you may find that your greatest
obstacle to saving him is their desire to deflate your ego just a bit."
And with that, he drained the mug.  "Now, you go talk to your client,"
Archie continued, with a nod to the gates.  "And think about how
unimportant it is that this town and the jurors in it despise not only
the defendant, but his attorney."

        And with that, he bowed not only to Perrin Mayce, but the
guardsmen as well -- fine fellows they were, if a bit serious. No more
lingering; the message he had sent would have reached its destination by
now, and perhaps he could meet the boy on his way back with that ale.
Somewhere he would have to find someone who would confirm that they
might have heard, possibly, about the defendant's distasteful activities
with barnyard animals.  A drink or two with the right people, and they'd
swear they had witnessed it with their own eyes.  That, and the blood
sacrifice that had followed.

        The very thought of it made Archie beam with enjoyment as he
stepped away.

[Perrin]

Perrin watched the unpleasant man leave, and he smiled.  Not only was he
free of the journalistic shrew, but he had already began the process of
swinging the public opinion *away* from his client.  With most of the
town against him, the selection of an impartial jury would be
impossible, and a change of venue would be the only way to assure a fair
trial.  If Mr. Archie did his job correctly... as unlikely as that may
be... then the resulting negative sentiment would only serve to
strengthen *his* case and help remove any advantages the Montfort
prosecuters had.  It was a gamble... but with what he had already heard
of the evidence, it was one of the *few* options young Fillip had left
available.

"Very well, guard,"  said Perrin.  "Lead the way."

[The Guard]

"This way," he said as he started toward the Sheriffs office.

[Sheriff Armand]

He set in his office wondering how the next few minutes would go. He was
not sure could remain emotionally detached and he did not want to deal
with the underhanded wording and supposition of a lawyer use to the well
established court in the capitol city. He wished that Fillip would be
tried in Bleckner, but he also knew that if that were to happen evidence
in the case would be lost in its travel there. He had checked out the
Menagrim name, it had money behind it.

He awaited the lawyer's arrival, steeliing himself for what he was sure
to be a ordeal.

[Perrin]

They walked silently across the small courtyard and entered the office
of the sherrif.   Perrin eyed the place and its occupant suspisciously
before extending his hand.

"Perrin Mayce.     If it's not TOO inconvienient, I'd like to speak with
my client."

[Sheriff Armand]

"I am Sheriff Armand,' he said looking up at the man from his desk. "It
is inconvienent and also the wrong time of day for visitors. If I may
see your credentials so I can have them authenicated, you may return
this evening. I will prepare a place for your meeting; unless you would
like to see him in his cell?"

[Perrin]

Perrin stared at the Sherif for a long time without moving or saying a
word.  When he had asked about inconvienience, it was meant to be a
rhetorical statement... a piece of meaningless verbal fluff meant to
convey common courtesy.

But THIS idiot chose to take it literally.

...Perrin blinked...

...and blinked again...

...and then removed his credentials from his satchel.  He placed them
on the sherif's desk.

"Well then,"  Perrin's voice was slow and smooth... a total change from
his previous tone.  His restraint was remarkable.  "You...make...whatever
preparations... that you see fit.  I assume you have statements from the
relevant parties?  If so, may I... I would like to see them."

[Sheriff Armand]

He waited for the lawyer's reply, satisfied that the interview would be
short and he would not have to play any word games.

He picked up the credentials without looking at them.

The copies of the statements are here and when you return the transcript
of my questioning will be available as well. The interview room will be
ready at six and Mr. Menagrim will be waiting for you. Now if you will
excuse me I have much to do."

He set the credentials to the side and went back to the scheduling
sheets on the desk in front of him.

[Perrin]

"Hmph."

Perrin grabbed the copies of the statements and left the office without a
word. The guard escorted him to the gate and then watched him as he
departed.

Perrin didn't travel far.  Standing on the corner, he examined the
statements from the so-called 'witnesses.'

"Finished already?"  said William.  Perrin's assistant had just arrived,
with a fresh scroll and stylus, ready for note-taking.  He didn't seem
disappointed to see Perrin standing outside the gate.

"It seems Montfort is more lacking in civilized customs than I had
assumed. Give these people NO courtey, William... they will only us it as
an excuse to run over you!"

"I take it we wont' be speaking with the client."

"We are to return in a few hours.   Did you find us some suitable
habitation?"

"Well...  I did try."

"William..."

"There was an inn with a tavern and a  room for rent.  It was very close
by."

"A tavern.   William, you do not drink, and neither do I."

"Yes... which is why I didn't see any problem with us staying there.  It's
a lovely place called the Dragon's Bin... or the Dragon's Kin... or something like
that."

"Well, I hope you at least remembered the way back.   We'll have to sort
through these statements before we meet with the client.     By the way...
you DID remember to get us  TWO rooms, didn't you?"

"Well... about that..."

"William..."