"No," Eloti continued, "I did not know there was any law against making images of living persons, not until I was accused."
Wotheng rolled his eyes skyward. Technically, he supposed, his first questions to Eloti might in fact be called accusations. It wasn't a lie.
"Nonetheless, I maintain that this law should be more honored in the breach than in the observance, seeing that it is useless—as useless as forbidding bows in order to prevent poaching. If the law must be enforced, then let its punishment be altered to better suit the nature of the crime—such as paying a fine of, say, one flower or pinch of grain to be placed on the nearest altar of Kula, along with a prayer that one's work will not be misused."
The student faction broke out in a cheer at the elegance of her solution. They could see in it the beginning of a pretty, romantic custom. Two old grannies who regularly tended the villas shrine of Kula cheered likewise, thinking of the free bread they might collect from such a tradition. Wotheng smiled and rubbed his beard. Gynallea laughed outright. Eloti sat down amid the growing applause.
Wotheng quelled the noise with his bell. "Do any wish to question the Accused?" he announced.
"Me! Me!" Oralro and Nima yelled simultaneously.
Wotheng clanged his bell for order. "Let the Accuser speak first," he said.
Nima shot to her feet. "Stories!" she snapped. "Pretty tales! No shred of proof to any of this! We've only your word for it—and maybe your friends'—that your advice was harmless. You've admitted yourself that anyone could have stolen the drawings and used them to bewitch the girl. Who can tell but that was what you intended?"
The crowd rustled with surprise.
"Who can say," Nima plowed on, "that it wasn't yourself who stole the drawings and magicked them? 'Twould be a clever way to strike down a rival, and punish my son for preferring Irga to you!"
The assembly roared. Eloti's eyebrows shot up to her hairline; this was the last thing on earth she'd expected. Behind her, Zeren swore sulfurously and struggled to his feet through restraining hands.
Wotheng clanged for silence. "Let the Accused answer!" he bellowed.
"Well," Eloti marveled, "this is news to me."
Her class laughed in appreciation.
"First, though I admit Losh is a handsome and clever boy, I've never had any, hmm, romantic interest in him. For one thing, he's a trifle young for me."
Pado, who'd been staring at Eloti in wide-eyed horror, now ducked her head and squirmed furiously on her bench.
"For another, I never so much as knew that Irga existed, nor knew her name or face, until she was already afflicted. I will submit to truth spell upon that." Eloti smiled sweetly out at the audience, knowing full well that there was no such thing as a "truth spell." There was only ill-wishing and well-wishing, nothing else; but let the crowd—and Yotha's wizards—believe what they liked.
"No one can truth spell a wizard!" Oralro shouted from the front of the horde. "Everyone knows that!" He glared around him defiantly, as if daring anyone to contradict him. Of course, no one did.
"For a third," Eloti continued, "I already have a lover, whom I intend to marry at spring planting."
She turned to gesture at Zeren, who got to his feet and glared daggers alternately at Losh and his mother. "That's me!" he thundered, hand visibly clenching the grip of his sword. "Does anyone want to challenge the Lady's word on that?"
No, nobody did. The throng buzzed with speculations and comparisons. A mere boy's appeal, against that of an obvious warrior-magician—and handsome, to boot—seemed very little.
"You're going to marry Eloti?" Doshi gaped, while Yanados tugged warningly at his sleeve.
"I hadn't intended to announce it this way," Zeren admitted.
The surrounding students laughed.
"For yet a fourth," Eloti went on, "when would I have the opportunity to filch Losh's drawings—assuming I even knew they existed—and place a curse on the girl? Irga was afflicted only a little after dawn; Losh did not come to school until much later. I could not have stolen the drawings when he left class the day before, since he did not make them until much later that afternoon, at Irga's farm. Neither could I have gone secretly to Losh's house to steal the drawings—again, assuming I knew he had made them, and how could that be?—because I spent the rest of that day and all the night here at Ashkell House, in the company of the Lady Gynallea."
"True," announced Gynallea, glaring around the assemblage as if defying anyone to doubt her.
Nima took a half-step back, still frowning. "Who knows what your magic can do?" she grumbled. "Who knows but you might have used it to spy on Losh, see where he went, whom he met, and what he did. You could have used magic to fetch the -drawings—or even curse the girl without them and make him look guilty. We've only your word for it that you can't!"
Eloti rolled her eyes, but answered patiently. "When could I have done this? Losh claims that he went to meet Irga after school, and stayed with her until sundown. During all that time I was quite busy discussing uses of herbs with the Lady Gynallea, as well as various other members of her household, who might also be called as witnesses. After sundown, I was at dinner with all of Ashkell household—and such dinners, as many can attest, tend to run late."
Various servitors of Ashkell House laughed agreement at that.
"Afterward, as usual, I went to the wash house with several others of Ashkell house, and thence to bed. By such time Losh was surely asleep, with his drawings safe in his schoolbag. Thus, even if I could use magic for scrying—which, I dare say, nobody in the vale can do—just when was I to spy upon Losh and discover whom he met? When, for that matter, was I to ill-wish the girl? Such things do take time, you know."
"You could have done it that night, or next morning, when no one else was awake and about," Nima insisted. "You could have scried into his schoolbag—"
"But the drawings weren't there!" Losh shouted, jumping to his feet. "I remember, I put the pictures of Irga under my pillow, so I could dream about her!"
The crowd laughed. Irga blushed prettily.
Nima glared briefly at her son. "You could have scried on his dreams, then. Or you might have scried him long before, found the girl, and waited for a good time to make your revenge. You could have done it! We've only your word to say you couldn't, or wouldn't!"
Eloti sighed loudly with impatience. "Why, then, when Irga was first brought to Ashkell House, did the Lady Gynallea's medicines ease this 'curse,' long before I heard anything of it?"
"Do you dare to say I'm a witch?" Gynallea shouted. "Or that I connived with Eloti on such a fool's venture? No, woman! That girl was poisoned, or I've never seen it."
Unnoticed, Wotheng shook his head. The crowd buzzed, enjoying the juicy fight.
"She could have set the curse to look that way," Nima grumbled, retreating. "She might have deceived you."
"Hardly," Gynallea snorted.
"You've invented a pretty tale yourself, Goodwife," said Eloti, "and with no shred of proof. From what facts we do know, 'tis far more likely that someone crept into Irga's house and poisoned the herbs she used next morning."
"Even that could have been some agent of yours!" Nima retorted.
"Who?" Eloti shot back. "Someone at Ashkell House? Ask the household if anyone stole out that night to go all the way to Irga's house, or if any were missing from the house all the night and didn't reappear until the next day."