XXXII: Snakedance (part two)

At least one more thing you were right about, ranger, - it is a damned show.

Adele already failed several attempts to make her eyes follow the audience filling the courtroom – there was too much of them even for mere looking. From her observation point – through a small hidden window in the special back chamber meant for the accused – she couldn't see all of the castle hall, but the unending crowd coming from the main doors was enough to make her suddenly nauseous. She didn't mind the audience – she expected it, of course – but realized that during the way she managed to avoid most of the gawkers, no small thanks to her convoy and the hurry. So now the woman felt like she turned back just in time to see a huge tide that was about to cover her.

Fuck, why there's so many of you, people?

"Is every trial such a full house?" she wondered at one of the guards at the doors, those same guys 'accompanying' her from the tavern to the Castle. Nice fellows, knew to keep the distance, but didn't mind a non-committal chat.

"Sure not," the younger one answered. "But not every trial is held in Castle Never. And is concerning Luskan to the pile."

Adele smiled, narrowing her eyes at the throng, picking up separate faces. The woman saw Sand already seated at the table they were to share, defender and defendant. The place on the opposite side, the one of the accuser, was still empty. Commoners were taking the galleries and standing places in the back, seats in the stalls remained reserved for the nobles and those involved. Her companions, mostly. She noticed Elanee all but sneaking in and hiding in the nearest niche, instinctively burrowing as deep as possible into the shadows, with her eyes sliding nervously over the people. Khelgar took place at her side, looking strangely small and vulnerable without his axe and chainmail. He was clearly just as aware of his defenselessness, for the set of his shoulders and his gaze were too defiant, making it clear at first glance that – if anything happens, anything - he was not going down without a fight. Shandra was not far, sitting almost at Sand's back and drumming an anxious staccato with her fingers over the railing that partitioned the seats off from the center. She would lean over it from time to time to ask something of the elf – much to the wizard's displeasure. Grobnar to her left took time to gape around, trying not to miss anything and at the same time to listen to their conversation. Qara walked in, cast an insolent glance over the hall, an empty throne, snorted, as if insulted by the fact she had already arrived while Nasher still hadn't bothered, and strode towards the chairs, leaning back into the last one on the side and crossing her legs.

Adele screwed her eyes, rubbing the face, and barely managed to stop herself from ruffling the arranged hair.

"Ah, there you are," came agitated whisper, and the woman looked out again, incredulous – only to face the tiefling. Neeshka took place near the window, her back against the wall, the picture of innocent lazy lounging. "Took me some time, but I found you," she looked over the ceiling and walls, obviously gloating: "Who could have guessed Castle Never is so shitty at hidden places?"

"Neesh," Adele drawled warningly, which wasn't an easy feat to achieve with voice as low as possible, and shifted from her spot to close the window from the guards. "Get lost before someone caught you, and you ended up between me and Sand."

"You wish," the rouge shot her a laughing glance, but her eyes didn't appear that much joyful at closer look. More like troubled, but forcefully optimistic. "How's it going? You okay?"

"Was. Now have you to worry about. Seriously, out."

"Come on, it hasn't started yet. And won't until they sort all the comers out."

"What, there's more there?"

"It's not about quantity, y'know. Need to hand over all the weapons at the entrance. One of the guards got unlucky card to check Bishop and is busy for, like, half an hour already. Found five daggers. I bet he started to take it as a personal challenge," Adele couldn't stifle a smile, and the tiefling, noticing that, gave her an overly sweet grin. "Nah, don't dream, no one's undressing him. I checked."

"Shut up."

"Why? Look, you're smiling."

"…"

"And I mean it," she leaned closer, "when I say not to be too worried. Even if everything goes wrong, we'll get you out of here. I've got it all on a string."

"…Okay, now I'm terrified."

Neeshka stuck her tongue out at the friend, then pushed herself off the wall, shooting a quick glance at the entrance:

"There's our walking weapon-store. I'd better get to my seat, then".

Adele saw the ranger as well, almost the very moment he walked in, keeping to the shadows from the columns and arches. He didn't bother to look decent, sticking to his usual travelling outfit 'complimented' with the long-suffering cloak and sizzling irritation plastered all over his face. The last was clearly caused by the guard at the doors – but was suddenly gone without a trace as the doors were left behind his back, replaced by no less usual searching gaze examining the environment, like it was yet another territory he might need to take a stand at. That made Adele suspect that despite the diligence the guard still hadn't managed to find all the hidden blades.

…Damn. I hope he's not so generous as to kill Torio for free, just for the Hells of it…

Bishop was followed by Casavir, the paladin staring grimly at the ranger's back. It seemed he suspected just as much.

Giving Adele one last wink Neeshka hopped off towards the seats, passing both men. Casavir moved to sit, while Bishop chose a spot in the back, half-vanishing in the mess of the mob, staying out of sight no worse than Elanee. But where the druidess' actions were pure instinct, the ranger knew what he was doing.

After all, he always did.

Evaluating the surroundings, he propped his shoulder to the nearest column, crossing his arms on his chest.

In the bracer it is then, huh?

"It's gonna be fun," Neeshka flung at him on the run.

Adele heard the ranger's rusty grim chuckle: "I'll try not to squeal in delight."

The audience started to move, standing up, craning their necks, the flow of whispers rising above, and Adele shifted her eyes back to the doors in time to see the lord of Neverwinter coming in. Nasher was flanked by the ever-present Nevalle and an elderly man Adele didn't know, robed in a white-and-blue mantle of Tyrrans. Still, the golden lining of that mantle spoke pretty plainly of the high position the man held both in the city and the cult.

"Lord Nasher Alagondar, Defender of Neverwinter," the herald at the doors proclaimed while the lord moved up the steps towards the throne. The priest chose to stay at the foot of the stairs. "And Reverend Judge Oleff Uskar, Lord Justiciar of Tyr."

Adele smiled at the unnamed Nevalle, who took his usual place at Nasher's right side, his dark eyes taking in all the guards in the hall, probably getting all the unspoken statements about the mood and behaviour of the mob.

Someone's surely good in his role of the grey general…

"Squire?" the soldier behind her back called out, and the woman licked her lips, turning to him to leave.

She didn't see the hall anymore, led through the small corridor, but Nasher's voice was strong enough (and without a doubt enhanced by smart acoustics of the Castle) to hear:

"Bring in the accused."

Well… Here comes nothing.

She had to hold her step, just for the second, when suddenly all the gazes in the hall were crushed on her. But strangely enough it weren't those that bothered her – it was the floor, the same damned marble floor that turned every touch of boot to a drumbeat. In contrast to it the hushed silence seemed to be deafening.

Come on, people. Can't you at least whisper or something, discuss, I don't know…

No one did. She had her share of public shows, fighting mostly, all the fest-duels when she and Derek had travelled through the Mere during Harvest seasons to earn some coin, doing what a bard and a fencer could do – bringing people entertainment - but the crowd was never this silent. Cheers, cat-calls, laughs – nothing.

Adele drew a breath through her nose, slowly, not slackening her pace, inwardly looking for any opportunity to break the cursed stillness. Bowing in front of Nasher, she stole a glance to her side, at the accuser's place that was already taken by Torio. The Luskan woman was calm, her lids lowered, but that didn't prevent their eyes from meeting. Torio nodded, barely. Straightening up, Adele markedly returned her nod, with a frosty drawl:

"Ambassador."

That was enough to bring a tad of unrest, muffled whispers in the back, and Adele smiled, her smile just as small and private as was Torio's nod before. Ambassador gave no signs of acknowledgement, only her eyes turned colder under the lowered lashes.

Wanted a play, did you? Bring it on, honey. Let's play.

He watched her.

Watched as she marched through the hall, with tossed up head and straight back. Funny, but it never occurred to him before how much she resembled her own blade. Long, thin and sharp, with her boyishly square and bony shoulders repeating the line of the guard, the mess of her streaked hair as intricate as the ornate hilt rapiers usually had.

Except for that part where the blades don't have tight peachy assess to sway around.

Bishop smirked despite the ache splitting his head in halves. Tension of the crowd, hushed mumblings passing from mouth to mouth would have been petty in any other day, but this morning every accursed sound was like a needle soaked in acid that scuffed slowly into his ear, forced a jagged way through his brain and ended up stuck in the inner side of his eyeball. Watching the two-coloured eye-candy was a small consolation, but at least something to make up for the trouble.

For the trouble of even coming.

He soothed himself with the notion he was merely a spectator. Everything was settled, all his things packed. If the wench was going to lose the trial, he'd be out of the city and leagues away by nightfall. After getting hold of the girl Luskans might turn curious about her companions as well, and he wanted none of that crap. Especially with the demon's plan about sneaking the princess out from the custody if that happened.

He heard about it, of course. The demon herself was the one to approach him with it. Smart, surely, poking the snakes' nest. Not that he had any illusions about the amount of brain in that horned head, but it appeared there was always a place for wonder.

You are surrounded by morons, princess. What's even worse - eager morons.

He still could not figure out why the demon decided he even cared. Of course, a shame to waste such a sassy sweetmeat on Luskan (or on Neverwinter at that… damn, on anything) but even his score with them didn't go so far as to risk his hide so straightforwardly. It was enough he chose to be here in the first place (still wondering if it was any smarter than the princess' decision to go on with the whole stupid suicidal jig), in a guarded Castle, with enough of Torio's escort to gut anyone they deemed necessary – or just felt like it – while he had little to offer in return were it to come to that.

Yet here he was. Watching her. Despite all odds actually wishing the bitch pulled it through. Not just for the sake of sparing him another run-in with Luskans (although that'd be a nice bonus – and less for you to owe me for) but… just because. Because he wasn't done with her. Hardly. To the point he was starting to ponder whether leaving right away, even in case of her failure, was that good of an idea.

Just to think of it… If the princess lost, but the whole 'escape' shit worked out – and if she's nice enough - he might actually take her with him. Desperate and followed, stolen away from her gushing retinue, she'd certainly be less corny and easier to handle.

But don't worry, Duncan. When the commotion dies out – and I've got my full of her – I'll be sure to send her back.

One piece at a time.

It all went as they planned. The evidence itself was enough to send some rash among the audience, no matter the pieces were mostly circumstantial and pretty much arguable. Torio flashed her trump card then, bringing Alaine in, but it also didn't turn in her favour.

Sand kept his promise - he pretty much destroyed the girl.

Alaine had changed. Became calmer and more composed, even dry at times. But her numb self-possession was as fragile as glass, shattered quite easily by the barrage of 'clarifying' questions. How came she escaped? Why had she even been in Port Llast? What about the shipments? Had she met the accused before? Hadn't the accused protected the very village from unknown creatures? Hadn't she been helpful and cooperative? Why would she come back and do something like that? How the accused looked? What weapon she wielded? Why would she? Who accompanied her? Why? How? What? All the questions they could have asked her before the Trial, but chose not to.

The girl didn't cry anymore, but the haunted and confused look in her eyes when she was casting them between Sand, Adele, Torio and all the damned audience wasn't much better. Adele would have preferred to hide away from that gaze (behind Ambassador's corpse would've been nice), but forced herself to watch. She was the one to agree to it, after all. And curse it all – it worked, if the anxious voices and looks from the crowd were any indication.

I'm sorry, girl. But I'm sorry for myself more. I will not endanger my life just to spare you a couple of sobs.

It was Shandra who broke, springing up from her place and calling out for Alaine, trying to calm her or reason with her or whatever. From the pleased look on Sand's face Adele figured that even if her lawyer hadn't planned on that particular outbreak, he certainly welcomed it.

They got what they wanted – a doubt. Alaine admitted that the one she saw might have as well been someone else.

"Enough," Torio's cold voice, carefully iced with the edge of contempt, cut through the uproar of the audience. "Scared and confused as the witness is by you, I will not allow torturing her any further."

"That surely didn't stop you from bringing her here in the first place," Sand parried calmly. "Without even trying to give the poor thing a chance to think over what happened."

Torio sighed: "Objection. I do not think the defender can qualify as a mind-reader to guess the accusing side's thoughts and actions."

"Oh, there's no tiniest need to be one for that."

"Accuser is right," Reverend Judge was a bastion of composure, something so habitual of followers of Tyr that Adele nearly felt like being converted. Do they give that calmness in potions, I wonder? "I would ask both sides to refrain from predicating each other motives apart from those we gathered here for."

'Both sides' gave almost identical jaded nods. From Alaine's empty gaze Adele could tell that the girl didn't see much difference between the two. Hells, Adele herself didn't.

Come now, - the voice inside snickered. – The only difference is that one side is yours, and the other isn't.

…Probably.

Alaine was led out, with Sand quietly hissing at Shandra when the farmer almost gave voice to ask if she could follow. Torio smiled:

"Quite short-tempered even with your own, Defender?"

"Just cautious not to threaten the rules of this fair Court," Sand returned her smirk lightly.

"Oh but of course, you'd know much about threatening," Torio leaned forward on her arms and, forestalling the same objection that she herself made earlier, raised her voice to address both the Judge and the audience. "I call forth another witness. A man, who also had a rather questionable luck of meeting the accused and her followers – and was left with no less than worry for his own well-being!"

Adele arched her brow, threw a quick sidelong glance at Sand. The Hells? Her lawyer merely shrugged:

"My defendant was a member of the Watch, so I'd guess that quite a lot of shady elements around the city had a reason to worry for their well-being".

"Ah, there is so much wrong in your statement, I won't even start arguing it," Torio made a gesture towards the witness-stand. "I call forth Elgun, the resident of Port Llast," she smiled at Sand again, "a town rather beyond your defendant's duties and Neverwinter Watch, am I correct?"

Oooooh, damnit…

That swollen rumpled face was nearly the last Adele expected to see. Even though Elgun obviously did his best to appear presentable – put on what looked like his best tunic (clean, at least), comber his beard and such – his efforts were in vain, not managing to conceal the overbearing sagginess of his whole self. He didn't meet her gaze, sparing but a fleeting (although wary) look in her and Sand's direction. The wizard's face was a careful mask of guarded apathy.

Adele caught herself on a wish to look back, at Bishop, for only a moment, just to see his eyes, if they reflected the same fury she felt, if he considered bringing his old threats to the guy to life as much as she did…

She didn't. It wasn't necessary. Even without it she felt resentment towards the drunkard from her other companions – her friends – coming from behind her, almost palpable.

"Please, Elgun," Torio settled back in her place, "tell the court about the circumstances of your meeting with the accused and her… followers. Remember you are under protection, you have nothing to fear."

Protection, sure. You are on your own the moment you leave this hall, you pathetic trash.

She was careful for none of those thoughts to reflect on her face, keeping its expression peaceful, with just the right amount of fair confusion. Sand at her left hand nearly emanated chill.

"To be honest, those weren't pretty, lady Ambassador," Elgun started, and Adele had to fight hard not to wince at the sound of his voice. "It happened just some days after Ember was… after the horrible, horrible tragedy that happened to those poor people. I was in our town tavern, and well… not at my best, I tell ya. I was horrified, and drunk, and… probably too shook up about what happened. And nobody knew anything, so I… I started to… lie. Told some totally unbelievable tales about how I tried to help those in Ember and… don't get me wrong, those were some totally fantastic lies, and everyone understood that, but I… I guess I was just too sorry for those people, and that nobody really helped them, so I was like trying to… fill the gap, even if with lies, ya know…" he cast a hollow gaze around the silent audience. "I know it was wrong, but it sort of… calmed me and those around, like… like someone at least tried indeed…"

"What is he talking about?" Shandra nearly demanded from her place, not bothering to keep her voice low, earning a glance from Torio.

"Oh, he was taught good," Sand muttered icily.

"So that's when the… accused lady and her company come in," Elgun went on, his face red, probably enjoying attention just as much as before, when he played a demon-fighter in the ruins of burning village. "You know, all ragged and armoured and… Not that I have anything against adventurers and the sort, as long as they keep to themselves and don't go around brandishing those weapons on peaceful folk…"

"But these ones did not?" Torio prompted gravely.

"No, no, they heard me talkin' and in an eyewink they were all around me. Like wolves, you know. Cut me off from the rest of the folk and… told me to shut up. In some ways I deserved that, I know, and I was about to… I thought they, perhaps, had friends in Ember and were insulted…" Adele nearly felt Shandra twitching, but didn't tear her eyes from the damned 'witness'. "But then they said I could earn my own death with my words. That murderers of Ember will come for me and deal with me for stealing some of their… fame."

"Did they. How come they were so well aware of the 'murderers' intentions and feelings?"

"That I wondered, too, lady Ambassador. Started to wonder later, but then and there I was too scared to think it over. I swear, there was that guy among them, he had a face of a killer."

And to think of it, he's not lying in a single word…

She wanted him dead. Just like that, out of the blue, she wanted someone simply dead. Without any fight or accident, merely crushed in his place, like one would crush a rat's scull under their heel. She could almost hear the wet crack of the bone, the sound so unexpectedly pleasing it sent shivers up her arms…

"Some company to keep for a fair Neverwinter watchman, indeed," Torio smiled. "I have no further questions, Reverend Judge. The scene was drawn in front of our eyes quite vividly."

"I do," Sand rose from his place, his lips forming a smile as well, a smile that suddenly and momentarily put Adele at ease. Circling the table to come closer to Elgun, the elf greeted him with a slight friendly nod and spread his hands around the hall. "Just for the sake of the holy procedure we are taking part in…" he carefully stressed the word and smiled again, "I am sure the witness is aware of the penalties the Just One implies on those dishonest, but have to make sure. Are you, my friend?"

"I…" Elgun shifted his eyes for a second, but took a breath and went on. "I am not lying, if that's what you mean. I get it why you would want so, since you were among them as well, but…"

"Just making sure, my friend, just making sure," Sand's smile was as slim and smooth as a line of the noose. "Last thing I want is for you to lie. But I hope that the surveillance of Great Tyr will help you to be exact in the important details. Now please, care to elaborate on what precisely had my client told you upon your meeting."

"Uhm…" Elgun shot a glance at Adele, who watched him serenely. I never said a word to you, scum, and you know it, right? "It wasn't her exactly, it was that guy…"

"Yes, yes," Sand waved him off, "we've all heard about that mysterious 'guy' who obviously was as terrifying and real as the demons you've faced protecting Ember. Unless you can point him among my client's companions…" he made a gesture towards the seats, where, Adele knew, no Bishop was to be found. The woman held back a smile, "…so we could call him forward and question, I suspect we can let him be… whatever realm he exists in. My question was about this girl's threatening you."

"She… she didn't, not directly, but…"

"She didn't."

"You did."

"I did," Sand rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose in weariness, then shook his head as if to clear it from dust. "Very well, in what way had I made it known I mean any harm to you?"

"You were the one who said that murderers will come for me if I go on telling I was there. Said you were seriously worried about my well-being…"

"Which is a threat how?"

"But you said in such a tone…"

"What tone?"

"Well, this… special tone, like you meant the opposite…"

"That the murderers won't come for you?"

"No, that… that it's not like it is some worry, but it's like it's… not."

Sand blinked theatrically. "Huh?"

"Objection, Reverend Judge," Torio gave voice. "The witness is not a man of great education, so the defender's wordplay is naturally confusing for him."

"My wordplay?" Sand gaped at her, then at Oleff.

"Please, Sand," Torio sneered. "I believe everyone understood what he intended to say."

"…Oh, very well, I probably just do not possess this talent of… alternative hearing," he grunted, earning a couple of chuckles from the stalls. "My initiate question was about my client anyway, and since there isn't a single thing the witness has to say about her…"

"But she was there, with others and with you, when you were telling all this, and then that guy, and he had that look…"

"As special as my tone, I'd guess."

"Yes, just that look, and if she hadn't stopped him, he'd probably just killed me on spot."

"So she stopped someone from harming you?" Sand stared at Elgun. "And you are accusing her?" he shook his head violently. "One last time: was there any threat or any other word coming from this woman's mouth or any single gesture towards you?"

Elgun opened his mouth, closed, then swallowed, dropping his shoulders: "No."

The wizard threw his hands up, looking around the mob, then stared pointedly at Elgun: "What are you even doing here, then?" Without giving him time to answer, the elf turned away with a disdainful shake of his head. "I do not see any point in further questions, Revered Judge. What I do see," he raised his voice before Oleff uttered a sound, "is a liar dreaming of cheap fame he failed to get from the deaths of those in Ember – so is still trying to dance on their remains! But what was passable for a filthy alehouse," the elf pointed an accusing finger at the drunkard, who looked very much like he wished the earth could swallow him up, "would not be tolerated in Neverwinter and Great Tyr's court!"

"Objection!" Torio snarled. "I don't think the Defender has the right to speak for all the court."

"Then get this mockery of a man out of our sight, so he would not insult the procedure and the tragedy that had happened with his presence!" Sand pinched the bridge of his nose again, 'calming' himself and carefully ignoring the approving hum from the stalls, "And I object my own words and behaviour, Reverend Judge, but beg to forgive me. Some things are just beyond my patience. I'm done with the witness."

Elgun was led out, followed by the agitated mumble of the crowd. Among them separate threats and calls were easy to catch. The triumph Adele had felt suddenly got thinned with cold sticky worry. She knew the feeling. The feeling she was holding onto something that was totally out of her control.

A tide, again.

Still, she squeezed out a smile as Sand settled back in his place by her side, and cocked her head a tad for him to hear her whisper:

"Overacted a bit there, if you ask me."

"Ah, I get carried away too easily when I'm on the roll," the wizard snorted. "Besides, we are dealing with a mob. Like the overall speed of the armada is calculated by the slowest ship, since others are bound to wait for her, so is the brightness of the crowd should be judged by its dumbest member. My little performance was hard not to get, I hope."

"He can get lynched at this rate."

"And you'll feel sorry for him?"

"…No."

"Better him than you, my dear."

"…True."

…but still too sticky…

"Does the accusing side have further witnesses to present?" Oleff's voice reached her.

"Oh yes I do," Torio was smiling again, her eyes fastened on someone behind Adele's back. "I guess we should hear out someone who is not connected to Ember. Someone whom the defense cannot discard so easily. Who knows the accused all too well. I call forward Shandra Jerro."

The farmer, leaning against the rail, gave a start almost as if she got slapped, and stared wide-eyed at Sand turning back to look at her: "…What?"

Sand sighed, obviously not all too pleased: "You'll have to, my dear, I'm afraid."

"But… I…" Shandra gaped at Adele, nearly pleading.

The woman shrugged lightly: "Just tell her whatever you think you should, and be done with her. She deserves nothing more from you."

"I'd rather just spit on her and be done like that," she hissed.

Adele grinned: "Your chance."

Shandra gave a shake to her ever-tousled hair, then gnashed her teeth and headed towards the stand, her arms by her sides, hands rolled into fists. Torio met her stomping with the same unfaltering soft smile, making a welcoming gesture.

"Please, Shandra, take your place. Remember, you can speak freely here."

"About what? About these false accusations?"

"No. I'm much more interested in hearing about the accused from you. You've been by her side for quite some time now, have you not?"

"I have," both Shandra's look and voice were so guarded, like she expected a punch in the stomach any moment.

Torio stood up from her seat, slowly, a snake rising from the twists and folds of her coiled body.

"Then tell me, please," she looked up at the ceiling, pretending to ponder, the very tips of her fingers propping her against the stand, "during your travels… have you ever witnessed the accused causing… or in any other way being a source… of destruction that is at least remotely comparable to those in Ember?"

Shandra blinked:

"No, of course not."

"No? Not even… your home?"

"But it wasn't her, those were —"

"Wasn't her, yet again, yes. Yet she was there?"

"Well, yes, but —"

"Both times it was attacked and burned to the ground?"

"Yes, but that wasn't like —"

"I'm afraid this whole case is not about what it's like, Shandra," Torio seeped out coldly. "Tell me – us – please: looking back, now, this very moment, can you be sure, with a hand upon your heart, that any of the disasters that happened to you would have happened anyway, even without the accused crossing your path?"

"…Oh sweet Mystra," Sand muttered, frowning at Shandra's utterly shocked face. "How I hoped to keep her as far away from this as possible…"

Adele didn't react, waiting for the farmer to answer. The girl had her right to, after all.

"…I…" Shandra gave a shuttered sigh. "I don't know. No. Maybe. I mean…"

Torio smiled: "I suppose we all understood well what you mean. Thank you, Shandra," she sat back into her chair, still smiling. "No questions, Reverend Judge."

Shandra swallowed hard, giving the ambassador an incinerating glare, and pushed herself off the stand almost convulsively, meaning to return to her place - but Sand's soft voice stopped her in her tracks:

"Just a moment, my dear."

The farmer gave him a drained empty look:

"…Sand, please…"

He raised his hands in a placating gesture: "I do not intend to torture you, I promise. I simply feel that you were so harshly interrupted every time you tried to evolve your thought… that lady accuser's assumption was a bit too hasty. Please, I want to give you an opportunity to explain. Do you indeed consider lady Farlong to be capable of something horrible?"

Shandra flailed her hands helplessly: "No, come on!" she squeezed her lids shut, then gave her head another furious shake and stared at the audience. Her gaze fluttered from one face to another, not really finding - or even understanding – whom exactly she wants to prove something. "Look, she's… She is trouble, alright? But it's not that she makes 'em, she just… has so much crap falling on her from nowhere, that there's always a bit of it travelling on her heels. But the thing is how she deals with those troubles. She does! She always does, and she always makes her damned best to make it the right way! I swear, sometimes she is impossible in her stubborn wish to solve everything on her own! But it's hard not to admire. And to help her, no matter what. To support her, to follow her…"

"…And even kill for her?" Torio drawled.

Shandra's glare snapped to her, enraged: "…What? …For almighty gods, if you start accusing me of what happened in Ember now, I…"

"No, no, I'm just… evolving your thought, as the defender put it," the Luskan woman tilted her head curiously. "I have to wonder, Shandra – how many people have you killed since joining the accused in her… travels."

"…None," the farmer stated firmly. "Animals, beasts, yes, but not a single person."

"But you will? If she tells you to?"

"I have to object that," Sand put in, "the witness' assumptions about her own possible behaviour are of no importance to the case and the trial."

"Oh, but the ability of the accused to influence those around her, to inspire this… unhealthy devotion and to change people to the point of ruining their own selves for her speaks volumes of her person," Torio exclaimed.

"Continue," Oleff nodded to Shandra.

Sand cursed quietly. Adele did not utter a sound, just watching the girl, the sucking void inside of her turning freezing…

Because I do… Damn it all, I do.

I don't want to, but…

Don't you? Truly?

…

"…She'll never tell anything like that," Shandra finally said.

"Indeed? But if what I know is true, you've been a peaceful farmer until you met her. It was her who gave you weapon, who taught you to use it, to take lives with it…"

"And to protect myself. So, yes, if anyone threatens me, my friends, my family or those things dear to me – I will kill them. And yes, it was her who taught me finally how to be able to do that," Shandra set her chin defiantly. "That's what you wanted to know, ambassador?"

Adele smiled. A slow winning smile, that didn't even need any reasons and proofs from Torio, her cold glare or anything, to appear.

That's my girl.

Shandra left the stand, finally free to go, and all but stumbled to her place, the adrenaline obviously leaving her at every step. When she was passing their table, Adele took a second to touch her wrist lightly, encouragingly, and the farmer stared at her, dark eyes shimmering feverishly. Not tears, but very close to them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Told you I can't… I screwed everything, eh?"

"No, not at all," Adele smiled at her again, softly, squeezed her arm just a tad. "You did wonderful… And I'm sorry, too," she added – perhaps, of all the times she spoke those words to the farmer, for the first time truly meaning it.

Shandra nodded nervously and made way to her seat, nearly collapsing into it. Casavir at her side put a steadying and calming hand on her shoulder, and the girl closed her eyes. Qara stared the ambassador up and down and smirked coldly:

"And then you call me a witch, huh?"

"Oh pretty please, can I be a witness?" Neeshka pleaded sarcastically. "I've got much to tell her."

"Any more witnesses on the accusing side?" Judge Oleff inquired with the same stone-cut face, only his eyes giving an indication of life, calmly seeping in everything and everyone around. Evaluating. Judging. Nasher on his throne was also very good at impersonating a statue.

"One more, yes," Torio nodded. "One last witness. The most undeniable witness, if I may say so. I call forth the accused."

Finally.

With a sigh of relief Adele rose from her place, feeling strangely light and almost glad. She had her full of sitting back and listening to all this bullshit. There must have been something with her face – smiling, probably – because Sand gave her a cautious look and muttered: "Play careful, I beg of you."

"Ain't I always?" she cooed just as quietly.

"You never."

Barely managing to suppress the grin, Adele strode towards the stand, ignoring the stares, the cursed floor, even the corset trying to gnaw into her spine. Torio met her with a slight smile of her own, nothing close to friendly or amicable, but it showed none of the uncertainty or nervousness the woman did - or didn't – feel. Even under the cross-fire of hating glances, mutters and all around hostile surroundings, ambassador was able to keep her composure. It made Adele think that - in another time, another place, another circumstances - she might have liked the woman.

But all of those were as they were.

So she took her place, laying her palms carefully on the stand, and nodded: "I'm ready, ambassador."

"…Ready?" Torio echoed. "Are we at battle, squire? Or are you always so… eager?"

The provoking challenge was so obvious that Adele merely smiled: "Ask your questions. If you have any."

"Only one," the woman held a pause, looking straight at her with her eyes hooded. "Why did you kill the people of Ember?"

"I didn't."

Torio spread her hands theatrically, indicating she never expected any other answer: "Why? Why do you keep denying your guilt?"

"Because I'm not guilty?"

"Oh, but of course you are not. You'll never admit it, will you? When all you really need to do is simply to confess. That'll ease your fate and your conscience, too."

"My conscience is fine."

"Fine?!" Torio widened her eyes. "Then what kind of monster are you? To kill tens of people, children included, without a drop of remorse or guilt?!"

She tried too hard, her tone, gestures, expressions of her face – all were exaggerated, almost absurd… but it worked. It grated the nerves, scraped them, faintly, like a jarred out-of-key tune just at the edge of one's hearing, when you almost believe you no longer hear it - until find yourself grinding your teeth in irritation.

Play carefully…

"Is a person with clear conscience such a rare meeting in your life, Ambassador, that you'd rather believe one to be a monster?" Adele wondered and slowly shook her head, forestalling Torio's objection. "I mourn the people of Ember. I feel sick at the mere thought someone was capable of such a thing – even more sick at the thought he is still walking somewhere free and clear… and instead of trying to find him I have to stand here. But I am not guilty."

"So you'd rather be hunting someone down?" Torio clarified innocently. "Feel this right to arbitrate justice, huh?"

"My words were 'find him', not judging him," Adele smiled slightly. "Hunting down a criminal, yes. That's what we watchmen do. It's our work and duty. It can be unpleasant, but duties are not about being pleasing, are they. It's just something that you do," she shrugged, accompanied by agreeing sighs and mumbles from the stalls. "I cannot imagine you are enjoying what you have to do here today, Ambassador, yet here you are. Duty, isn't it."

Torio's eyes narrowed dangerously. Adele kept smiling, faintly, so that hardly anyone but the Luskan woman could see her smile. Go ahead and argue, honey. Start proving to these people that you are glad being an accusing harpy, and even your Garius won't be able to dig you out of the shit.

"I have this weird feeling I am the one being accused of something here," Torio drawled.

"I bet this feeling is no less weird than mine."

"But even you have to agree, squire, that all the circumstances and happening around Ember are so suspiciously centered around you. In no way do I even want to connect those happenings to your own words about duty and all, but if to remember that Ember is Luskan ground… and how conveniently you've became a squire right after that…"

"Ambassador," it was Nasher's voice this time that boomed over the hall, almost making Adele jump. The tone was even, but there was no mistaking of well-controlled rage to it. "You are threading a dangerous line here."

"Ah, but of course, I beg to forgive me, Lord Nasher," Torio inclined her head obediently, "I meant no disrespect to the land and the lord." Straightening up, she stared right at Adele again. "Unless the squire did, being accused of murder such horrid, yet finding it appropriate to shield herself with duties."

Oh, you… - Adele bit her lip not to grin. - You're good, I'll give you that.

"You ask questions, I answer them. You do seem to find amusement in twisting them your way, but, unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it. Only to have faith into the just court and the wisdom of my people."

"Very well, then," Torio went on, "if you insist on your words and your motives being solely your own, then, perhaps, you'd like to finally clarify, what interest could you have in Ember? What could those people do to earn such a cruel fate?" she allowed herself a tiny smirk. "Did they also accuse you of something? Stepped into the way of your duties? Angered you?"

Adele took a breath, trying to catch the drift of the surroundings, that unseen but palpable swirls of the tide around her. She might be wary of it, but she knew well she'd have to catch it to get out of it all.

It was her duel. Held in the raging storm, yes, but this particular storm could be used to her advantage, as long as it was at her back.

"To be honest, Ambassador, that was the thing I wondered as well for very long. Why Ember? Why of all places?"

"I suppose you know it better than anyone."

"But I don't. Really. There was nothing special to that place. They posed no threat to anyone… Gods, there was even nothing to rob there, from those farmers! Just a tiny village, with the only thing of notice is its being Luskan grounds."

"So you do agree this deed was aimed against Luskan? What was it, an inhuman yet, in your opinion, effective way of testing our borders? Our resolve? Too despicable, don't you think?"

Not yet…

Adele shook her head, going on in the same tone, as if ambassador hadn't interrupted her musings at all, "Then again, that doesn't make much sense either. Everyone knows enough about Luskan to fool themselves with thoughts such a loss would mean at least anything to the City of Sails," agreeing murmurs almost made her smile again, but she restrained herself. "If one wanted to hurt Luskan, they'd choose a more prominent target, especially now, when your city is distracted by war already."

Torio held a pause, clearly more cautious now, watching her closely. "The way you make it sound slaughter could possibly be your only reason. Just to spill blood? Murder for the sake of murder?"

"Trust me, the last thing I even want to consider is that someone can be so heartless as to raze out tens of people simply to see them dead, to entertain his own bloodlust… But truly, I simply don't see any other reason. Because… if to look at it now… the only thing accomplished with this massacre is that people of Ember are dead. Cold and dead, and I'm standing here accused of it," she sighed, taking her own time in turn, then looked back at the ambassador. "Unless me being here was the reason?"

"…I'm sorry, what?"

Carefully…

"Come now, Ambassador," she purred. "I've been personally attacked by Luskan soldiers and mercenaries several times in row by now! In what way have I interfered with Luskan's plans to want me dead so badly?"

"Doesn't it seem to you that you put too much importance into yourself?" Torio sniffed condensingly. "No forces of Luskan set foot in Neverwinter for a long time now, and I can't imagine them doing so just for you."

"Personally, I couldn't agree more, but they did", Adele kept her voice soft, reveling in the hushed sounds of murmurs and separate angry shouts from the audience. Just a bit more… "Into the Docks first, then breaking the sacred rite of the Vigil, attacking me right in the Solace Glade…"

"Unless you have some proof of your words and that those attacking you were connected to Luskan in any way, I suggest you stop trying to –"

"Signet rings of the Circle of Blades, a guild originating from Luskan if I'm not mistaken."

"No guild is subordinate to any city," Torio snapped. Yes, honey, go on, as protective as possible, please… "Hearing this much about you today, it comes as no surprise you have many enemies. Anyone could hire a mercenary from the guild. Especially after Ember. I guess you can imagine what fair rage feels like, and I wouldn't be surprised if quite a few of citizens were willing to spare some money to make sure the butcher gets her due."

"…Or never gets to the court of Neverwinter, since the attempts to drag her to Luskan for trial failed?" Adele prompted, arching her brow. "And I have to say I can imagine what fair rage feels like. Perfectly. For it is only the respect for this court, my Lord and those present in the audience that stops me from doing what any watchman in my place should do," Torio tossed her head expectantly, waiting for careless accusations. Adele gave her none of that, raising her voice: "To gag the all-too-loud harlot, drag her through the street and lock up in a cell!"

It hit in the back, the deafening billow of shouts and laughs, and someone was even applauding, for gods sake - but this time it was the tide she was riding. Adele nearly felt her feet leaving the ground, her stomach filling with exhilarating emptiness, echoing with something almost sensual in the pit of her body, so strong that it sent tickles to the very tips of her fingers and toes…

Whatever words Torio had had to say before, she chocked on them, anger flushing her face with crimson. Adele wanted to smile, but her head was reeling so much she wasn't sure she could manage any controlled expression or gesture at the moment. It was scary. And wrong. And perfect.

Damn, if Sand is feeling at least remotely like this every time, I can't blame him for what he does…

Thrill in its purest. Battle was the only thing that ever evoked something like this in her. But wasn't it battle? Her duel. Totally hers. And she won.

Adele grinned. Bishop smirked back, dryly, in his usual 'you-bitch' expression - and it was only then she realized that she was looking at him. That somehow, without giving thought to it, she found his face and his eyes in the crowd. Heat rose to her cheeks, and she forced herself to look away. Liar. It wasn't only battle. There was one single person who was also able to wake this turmoil of emotions in her. And it always felt just that – scary, and wrong, and perfect…

"Silence!" even Nasher's order wasn't able to hush the mob, but at least it snapped Adele out of her oh-so-out-of-place musings. "And I have to demand respect for the court from both of you this time! If this does not stop, the trial shall be dismissed!"

Adele made an agreeing bow, perhaps just a little too flippant – but damn, as if she could help it.

"Any more questions, Ambassador?" after the breakout the Reverend's stone-calm voice sounded like a form of mockery.

"No," Torio snarled, ignoring the crowd and its catcalls. "I have no patience for this farce! If we could please get back to the actual trial instead of this buffoonery, I'd be more than grateful."

"Agreed," Adele quipped in, sweeping one last triumphant gaze over the audience, even as far as the ambassador's side, her escort and…

Lorne Starling stared right back.

…

…wh…?

…h…?

All sounds drained. She blinked, tried to open her mouth, but her suddenly dry lips sintered together.

no…

no?

His face was blank, deep frown seemed to be engraved into his very features, hardly meaning a thing. She blinked again, fighting hard to avert her eyes, to look away, just to clear her mind a bit and then make sure, because for every fucking gods sake it couldn't be true, of course… Because it was, and she knew it was all along, even before the blasted trial, but that didn't mean she was ready for this right now…

Snap out, you idiot. Make those feet moving, now!

…I have to get out…

You can't!

Adele wasn't sure how she made it back to the table, with her legs and feet feeling like they turned to shuttered glass.

"My, my," Sand smirked. "For a moment or two I thought it would be better to throttle you then and there, but you do have a talent of slithering your way through a needle-eye, I have to admit."

"He's here," she whispered.

Her lawyer's eyes turned calculating: "Who?"

"Lorne is here."

Sand followed the trajectory of her gaze from before, taking time to murmur: "Something I should know, my dear?"

"…What?"

"Like how you were able to recognize him?" he glanced at her sideways, more curious than suspicious, but – bless him – chose to let it slide. "To be honest, I expected him to be somewhere around Torio."

Adele drew a deep breath through her nose, trying to calm down her galloping thoughts, to not look back where Lorne stood, now with some kind of hood over his head - poor camouflage, but heck, hadn't she used a stupid hat for the same purpose? Ironic. Must be. Even more so, were she to choose the Trial by Combat thing, she knew now whom she'd have had to face on the battlefield... The accused and the murderer. That's one irony to die for.

"Don't call Marcus in," she hissed into Sand's ear.

"Are you insane? Our key-witness?"

"He knows Lorne. He saw him. If he meets him here, it… I don't know what can happen, and I don't want to!"

"No."

"Hells take you, Sand, he's a kid, I forbid you!"

He shrugged: "I'm sorry, my dear. But you are getting innocent out of this."

The elf moved away, up from his place, ready to take his turn in calling the witnesses. Adele covered her eyes with her hand. Never in her life had she felt so helpless and lost…

Something went wrong. Like an invisible switch of some spell that triggered and drained the wench to her bone. Just a moment before she was standing there, her face nearly splitting in halves with her 'I-fucked-you-hard' smile he hated so much when targeted on him, but enjoyed seeing used on others… And now nothing more than a rugged doll thrown into the chair.

Bishop didn't pay much attention to what was going on. The elf called forth his witness, but there was no need for them. The bitch won, he felt is as sure as everyone. Both the dwarf from the Nine, and that slip of an elf from Port Llast – whatever they were saying was only an icing to their all-around-perfect and gutsy little squire, a rich gilding to the frame of the breath-taking portrait she and her wizard with the farmwench painted here. It was still surprising that someone actually saw her like that, but Bishop long since dropped all the attempts to fathom this blinding and stupefying aura the scrawny siren possessed.

Ambassador tried to bite back, but those were death convulsions, nothing more. Although it was a tad amusing seeing her managing a kick at the wizard, stripping him as being a Luskan right in front of the very mob they together with his 'client' had forced to hate Luskan with all their guts. Of course, the princess growled something in his defense, even though her eyes promised murder to him. She still wasn't the fool to abandon one of her faithful flock in the face of danger.

And from now on he'll eat right from your hand, won't he.

The boy was the last straw. If there was such thing as emotional rape, then that's exactly what the sop did to the Luskan. Not that Bishop complained, but he wasn't sure he needed yet another reminding why he did his best to keep away from the little monster. That… creature put him on edge. Even his usual back-up plan of simply eliminating a problem didn't work – the tiny bastard always looked at him so serenely, like he already knew Bishop would do nothing to him.

The princess still showed no signs of life. Neither during the execution the boy arranged for the ambassador, not even when the crowned head so pompously stated the obvious, calling her innocent and sending the crowd into ecstasy. Bishop had his headache not be too loud and cheerful about the notion, but what was the bitch's excuse not to celebrate her victory with at least a sqeak? Whatever it was, she didn't reveal it. Only gave a ghostly smile to her buddies, then leaned back to the wizard whispering something feverishly…

"I demand the Trial by Combat!" the Luskan exclaimed, her shrill voice showing no mercy for the ranger's burning brain.

Bishop squinted at the defender's place, trying to get a glimpse of the girl's reaction. None. It occurred to him she expected a trick no less than him. Smart. Always. Still a bitch, though.

And her eyes were also searching something… someone?

What the fuck?

"Ambassador, I am tired of your games," Nasher growled, "and will indulge you no longer."

"In a matter of such importance, you would deny me my sacred right of appeal?" the harpy rounded her eyes, a bad actress all up to the end. Garius must be paying her good – or keeping her scared out of her mind, if the sop could be believed – or both - for her to go on fluttering.

"And who will fight for you, Torio?" Nevalle must have given voice for the first time during the whole trial. "This is no battle with words, though I would like to see you try to match your wit against the blade of a true soldier of Neverwinter."

Oh, you can be sure she's got someone stashed just for the occasion…

"Indeed, you are correct, sir Nevalle," she all but sniffed pitifully. "Luskan is not the aggressor here, and I only wish to see justice done. But I cannot defend myself and seek justice in this matter... is there not one who will champion the people of Ember?"

"…She's serious?" the redhead witch snorted.

You bet she is.

"I will! I have listened to these lies, and will answer them - with my blade, in Luskan's name!"

All glances were there, on a man, huge as a damned bear, rising from his seat. All Luskan, and all proud of that, wrapped up in such impractical, but oh-threatening fur-crap with a wolf's head Karnwyr would've been glad to relieve himself on. At his side was a blade twice the size of any normal saber – but that one was a perfect match for its owner, any blade smaller would be simply lost in a grip like that.

It took Bishop a second to try and estimate how much fractures of a moment would the giant need to snap his skinny straw of a half-blood in two against the knee. Shitty chances, but she never had any different. That didn't worry him. Not even the fact that the giant's face was faintly familiar – he never bothered with remembering faces of all the blokes he came across, why would he now? But the girl was staring at him, her eyes empty like that of a dead fish. Staring like there was no one else around.

Bishop smirked in realization.

And so our fair little leader is forced to go and kill someone she knows?

How could he possibly consider leaving her side? Life around her was getting much more interesting with every damned breath.

"So... it seems this will be decided with blood," Nevalle drawled.

As if it isn't always…