Flinn and Graybow fought their way toward the front of the hall, and the castellan used his office more than once when someone protested their passage. Finally they reached an area that was cordoned off around a long rectangular table on a dais. Only the pages, squires, and knights presenting the commoners’ cases were allowed into the cordoned area. At the center of the table sat Baroness Arteris. Around her, the other council members stood or sat. Flinn bit his inner lip when he saw Sir Brisbois at the far end of the table. The knight had been given Flinn’s seat on the council! Flinn looked at the rest of the members and recognized only a few of them. His eyes paused at an elegantly dressed, blond man who looked strangely familiar. Then realization dawned:
Lord Maldrake.
Lile Graybow touched Flinn’s arm. “Wait here, son. I’m going to have a private word with the baroness. She’ll want to try your case herself, I’m sure.”
Flinn nodded. Behind him Jo tugged on his sleeve, and he turned to her. She pointed off to their left; Braddoc, Karleah, and Dayin had entered behind them and wormed their through the crowd. Flinn nodded to the dwarf, who returned the gesture. Then Flinn turned back toward the front, where Sir Graybow approached the back of the dais to speak privately with the baroness.
“Why aren’t there any guards surrounding the baroness?” Jo asked suddenly. “Does she trust the people that much? Don’t they ever get out of hand?” Setting her hand on her sword, she eyed the people jostling for position around her.
“There are guards, but not as many as you think.” Flinn pointed to the blue velvet ropes surrounding the dais. “You see how no one is standing anywhere near the ropes? That’s because the rope repels people. The cordoned area is laced with magical defenses to keep people out. If you get too close to it, a jolt of fire ripples through you. I hear it’s quite painful. Furthermore, no magic can penetrate that area, and weapons such as ours disappear if we enter the cordon uninvited. Don’t ask me how that works because I’m not a wizard. Ask Karleah; she could answer that one. The ropes are why the guards don’t bother checking weapons at the door.”
“Are the defenses foolproof?” Jo asked curiously.
“As far as I know, yes. Even arrows and crossbow bolts disappear once they enter the cordoned area. My guess is there’re wards other than just the ropes, but I don’t know for sure,” answered Flinn absently. Graybow was talking to the baroness now, and Flinn saw the older man gesture toward him. He glanced at Brisbois and Maldrake, noting that only the latter appeared to see him. Then Flinn saw Edwina Astwood leave Maldrake’s side.
“But if the baroness unknowingly invited a magical beast into the cordon, it could wreak havoc, couldn’t it?” Jo asked, but Flinn shushed her. Sir Graybow was waving him down and would meet him at the entrance to the cordon.
“It’s time to go, Johauna,” Flinn said hastily.
“Already?” Jo’s voice broke, and she coughed. “Already, Flinn?” she said in a lower voice. “I thought we’d have a chance to sit around for a couple of hours and—and get prepared for this!”
“Well, I thought so, too, but Sir Graybow’s called in some favors. He wants us down there, now!” Flinn pushed his way through the last of the crowd. Jo followed so closely behind him that she stepped on his heels. Moments later, they stood before the castellan, who put his hand on Flinn’s shoulder, then looked at the baroness and nodded.
Baroness Arteris Penhaligon rose, and immediately four dozen trumpets sounded. They continued until the crowd fell silent in the great hall. All eyes turned to the baroness, who spread her hands and spoke before the huge audience.
“My people!” she called loudly, and the words, amplified either by architecture or magic, carried to the farthest comers. “A most extraordinary case is about to be presented to us.”
Brisbois cast a vaguely bored expression at the baroness. “He still doesn’t know I’m here,” Flinn muttered under his breath. Just wait, thought Flinn, that expression of yours will soon change. Flinn turned his attention toward Maldrake, who nodded cordially in response.
“Fain Flinn,” the baroness was saying, and the crowd began to murmur at the name, “a man formerly dear to the heart of Penhaligon, is here today to seek justice. Step forward, Master Flinn.” Arteris sat down.
As Flinn strode forward, Jo behind him, someone called out, “Look! It’s Flinn the Fool!” Others took up the shout, and in less than a minute more than half the people inside the great hall were shouting, “Flinn the Fool! Flinn the Fallen!” The warrior clenched his teeth and entered the cordoned area with Graybow and Johauna.
Arteris let the chant continue for a few minutes more, and Flinn endured it as patiently as he could. He tried to ignore the awful and relentless chant, but could not. Instead he focused on a point just past the baroness, who sat less than twenty feet away. Arteris had a streak of something less than kindness in her, and it was evident now. Only after Flinn’s expression had grown dark with anger did she signal the trumpeters to silence the crowd. The mob had become so raucous by this time that the trumpeters played long minutes before the crowd quieted.
The baroness rose again. “Fain Flinn, you stand before us. What justice do you seek resolved?”
“I seek retribution for an injustice committed seven years ago,” Flinn called out. The audience quieted still more, straining to hear every word. Grimy peasant faces and clean freemen faces alike shone with hungry interest.
“And what injustice, pray tell, is that?” Arteris asked. Her voice was cool and civil. He wouldn’t receive any quarter from her.
“That of my being falsely accused of dishonor on the battlefield, Your Ladyship,” Flinn’s voice rang out clearly. He pointed to Sir Brisbois. “That man did maliciously and falsely accuse me of denying an enemy mercy!”
“Sir Brisbois!” Baroness Arteris cried, and Flinn saw his enemy’s face blanche. “You have been named in this case. Please stand before Master Flinn!” Brisbois slowly stood and walked with measured paces until he stood between Flinn and the council table. Brisbois turned to face Flinn. “And did anyone else accuse you of such a heinous crime, Master Flinn? You have the right to face all your accusers,” the baroness continued.
Flinn had been about to point out Lord Maldrake, but he remembered that the man hadn’t actually accused him of dishonor. Maldrake had only upheld Brisbois’ position—an understandable mistake. But someone else had directly accused him of dishonor. He paused, then said heavily, “The Lady Yvaughan, Your Ladyship.”
“Bring the Lady Yvaughan to the hall at once!” the baroness cried. Not more than a minute passed before Flinn’s former wife was brought in by a side door and led to stand near Brisbois in front of the council table.
Flinn was saddened at the sight of Yvaughan, for she was obviously ailing. She’s given birth to her child, he thought, but she hasn’t recovered yet. I should have thought of that and not named Yvaughan in my suit. The woman stumbled a little in her walk, and she cradled a white bird in her arms. Refusing to look at Flinn, Yvaughan nervously petted her bird and mumbled beneath her breath.
The man leading Flinn’s former wife was particularly short and particularly nervous. His features were plain—so plain as to be indistinct—save for his eyes, which were a brilliant blue. His hair was a medium brown and modestly cut. His chin was weak, though covered with a tiny goatee, and the flesh beneath it wobbled as the man jerked his head about, which was often. He was dressed in a gray tunic, dark breeches, and a brown cape. Flinn had never seen the man before.