Conquest of Avalon

“Please state your name, lands, and titles for the benefit of the magistrate.” Laura’s aura was diminished, a pale shadow of what it’d been not an hour ago.

“My name is Magnifico.” The bard twirled his arm in a bow, his cloak trailing behind. “By the generosity of His Grace King Harold of Avalon, I have been granted modest lands in the Wall’s Town, to the north of Cambria, and the title of Royal Bard. It is my honor to present my testimony before the esteemed magistrate.”

Why are you doing this? Magnifico himself had said that the evidence against Annette was weak. He’d even helped Fernan investigate the Duke’s chambers… He couldn’t be trying to frame her; that wouldn’t make any sense. Something had to have convinced him, so firmly that his entire position had completely reversed. But what?

“That’s not good enough,” Fernan cut in. “By the man’s own admission, Magnifico is merely an alias, a name of the stage. Is this not a legal proceeding? Surely he must supply his real name.”

Lord Lumière’s head tilted up smugly. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. Magnifico is well known to us all after his time in Guerron. His identity as King Harold’s bard is a matter of public record. That shall suffice. Unless the name he was born with holds some particular relevance to the proceedings?”

“No,” Fernan was forced to admit. Magnifico’s name being ‘Harry Martin’ didn’t really prove anything; it was merely a way to frame him as deceitful. Which, given his sudden reversal without any warning, was hardly an unfair way to portray him. But it was still incredibly weak. Even I’ve lied about my name. Laura had forgiven him, even; she would hardly care about this, and it was hard to imagine Lumière feeling any differently. Pressing the issue wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“Excellent.” Magnifico clapped his hands together. “Shall we begin, then?”

“Indeed,” Lumière added. “The representative for the Empire may begin her examination of the witness.”

Said representative took a deep breath, her posture slumped. “Where were you on the twenty-sixth day of the third month, between the hours of midnight and sunrise?”

“Why, in the castle of course. Lord Lumière himself saw me that very night.”

“Where specifically?”

Magnifico leaned casually against the wall behind him. “The East Tower, of course. Duke Fouchand was kind enough to offer me quarters across from his own, no doubt a token of friendship between our two nations.”

And just above the cells where highborn prisoners were kept, Fernan noted. It could be a coincidence, but it didn’t seem unlikely that Duke Fouchand had carried more suspicions of the bard than Magnifico had let on.

“What floor?” Laura asked, the hesitation fading from her voice.

“Why, the top floor, of course. Just across from the Duke’s own quarters, in fact. A great honor for a mere bard such as myself, but Duke Fouchand was esteemed for his generosity.”

Oh no.

“Did you notice anything of note that night?”

“Certainly! I saw Lady Annette dangle the late Duke from his own balcony, then cruelly drop him. The very thought of it is no less than horrifying.”

“You did?” Fernan asked through grit teeth. “Because when we spoke, you mentioned that Lady Annette didn’t seem the type for parricide. You thought the whole thing was suspicious.”

“I don’t recall saying anything of the sort.”

Why are you lying like this? “It was one of the first things we talked about after I returned! That’s why you helped me investigate the Duke’s chambers! I can't believe you could just forget that.”

A crack split the air, waves of light rippling through, emanating from Lumière’s hand. “The sage of the defense will refrain from interrupting the Empire’s direct examination without cause. Unless you have an objection to one of Lady Laura’s questions, you can wait until your own turn to ask your questions. Am I understood?”

Fernan gulped. “Yes, Lord Lumière.”

“Laura, please continue.”

“With pleasure.” Some of her fire had returned, more visible in her energetic posture than her aura. She stepped out from her podium again, walking purposefully back and forth across the room. “Magnifico, the visibility of the balcony was called into question earlier today. Please confirm for the magistrate exactly what you could see.”

“My balcony was directly across from Duke Fouchand’s. I could see the entirety of his outdoor space, and when the doors were open as they were that night, most of the interior of his apartments as well. I could count the books on his shelf; seeing his granddaughter throw him from the balcony was, alas, indisputably clear. There isn’t a shadow of doubt in my mind as to who killed the Duke.”

“Is there any possibility that anyone other than Lady Annette killed the Duke?”

“None.”

Laura vaulted back over her podium and crossed her arms. “Nothing further, Lord Lumière.”

The sun sage nodded. “Distressing tidings indeed, but at least we are closer to the truth. The representative for the defense may begin his examination, if they have any questions.”

Fantastic. “I do have a number of questions.” ‘Why?’ was foremost among them. Jethro made him out to be a creature of pure ego and malice, but there had to be a reason. “First of all, Magnifico, why not come forward with this earlier? The Empire’s representative was quite reluctant to summon you, and when we spoke earlier, you seemed far less certain about what had transpired.”

“Well—”

“Don’t answer that!” Laura cut in. “Fernan, you can’t just testify your own account of events unless you’re called up yourself. Keep your personal reccounting out of it and stick to asking the witness about his.”

“Agreed,” Lumière added unhelpfully. “You aren’t the witness here, Fernan.”

Well that guts my whole fucking question, then. Either Magnifico was lying now or he’d been lying back then, acting like he was skeptical about Annette. “Why weren’t you the first one called up, then, if your view was so much better?”

Magnifico shrugged. “That’s the Empire’s business. I couldn’t begin to speculate as to Lady Laura’s motives.”

“Nor should you,” Laura added. “Fernan, you shouldn’t be asking him about his best guess for other people’s motives. Not if they’re still alive, anyway. Ask him about his own stuff. We were just talking about this, come on!”

Fernan clenched his fists, fighting the fire rising in his throat. “Should I call you to the stand then? Your reluctance to bring in Magnifico seems pretty relevant. We all deserve an answer.”

Lumière remained impassive, but at least that got the gallery muttering, wondering why Laura had started with a lowly maid instead of a landed bard. I wish Guy hadn’t been so fucking right about how elitist this audience would be. At least it was working in his favor, for the moment.

“If I may save us all some time,” Magnifico announced, causing the room to fall silent. “While I am indeed a bard, my travels here were diplomatic in nature. As a representative of Avalon, no doubt the esteemed Magistrate thought it prudent to avoid involving me if at all possible, lest any complications reflect poorly on the hospitality of the Empire of the Fox.”

“No one asked him about that.” Guy poked him. “You could rightly object, ask that it be stricken from Lord Lumière’s consideration.”

“And what, call Laura to the stand to talk about her strategy? I’ve got a better idea.” Fernan stepped out from behind his own podium, steeling himself for more lies. “Thank you, Magnifico. That clears things up, at least. I presume you misrepresented yourself to me for the same reason?”

“Precisely.” His head turned to the side. “I hope you can understand.”

Of course not, you prick. “I want to get back to the issue of your view. You mentioned being able to even see inside the interior of the Duke’s quarters?”

“Indeed, and with great clarity. After months here, I dare say I knew the great wooden door at the entrance and the magnificent library nearly as well as Fouchand himself.”

“Did anything strike your fancy about the library, then, if you know it so well?” Fernan paused, but Laura didn’t object or question the relevance of the inquiry. Strange.

Magnifico turned back to face him. “My eyesight is better than most, but even I couldn’t read the titles on the spines from that distance. All that stuck out was a row on the bottom all in blue, probably multiple volumes of something. That, and the book on the table.”

Got you. Fernan smiled. “The library doesn’t open onto the balcony. It’s the first room from the back, and to the left from there. Its only windows are at a cross angle from the doors, in fact. So I find it curious that you are so familiar with such a detail.”

“Do you?” Magnifico chuckled. “I can’t imagine why. I’m sure you’re right, but that changes nothing. I must have picked up that impression from a time when I visited the chambers in person. Easy to gather all the details together in your mind, when you have all the information.”

“The Duke invited you into his personal chambers?” Laura asked, aura bright. “He would never!”

“She’s right,” Guy added quietly. “Fouchand was quite clear about that in the council meetings before his arrival. Too risky.”

“He didn’t.” Magnifico folded his arms. “I visited after his death, along with Fernan here. Despite the futility of his efforts, I couldn’t help but extend him the kindness of my help. We investigated quite thoroughly, allowing me an even better picture of the room than my view from the balcony afforded.”

You bastard. Fernan growled. “That’s why you wanted to help me! To explain any knowledge of the room you weren’t supposed to have.”

He’s duplicitous, and selfish, and he won’t balk at using you as he used everyone else in his life, Jethro’s words from the beach echoed. It’s all a self-indulgent exercise for him, all of us mere extensions of his ego at best, obstacles at worst.

“Fernan, please, listen to yourself. That’s completely ridiculous. What motive could I possibly have for doing that? I wasn’t even supposed to be testifying here, if you’ll recall.”

“But the possibility was there. You wanted all of your bases covered, so you used me, pretended to help just to—”

“That’s enough.” Lumière’s voice was firm. “None of this has any relevance to the proceedings.”

“But—”

“Ask any last questions untinged by your personal biases, or declare the examination at its end. I won’t ask twice.”

“You won’t save Annette this way,” Guy added quietly. “Magnifico is no lowborn maid, spreading lies out of the common wickedness in his heart. You must discredit him by other means.”

Fernan felt his nails digging into his palms. “How?”

“His birth is more respectable, but he remains a foreigner. An Avalonian, no less, they who execute without cause, who subjugate and conquer for no reason at all. Lumière may have forgotten that, but the proud people of Guerron have not.”

“Attack him for being a foreigner…” Fernan sighed quietly. “Brilliant, Guy. Thank you. Helpful as ever.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“Right.” Fernan exhaled a jet of green flame, small enough to dissipate into the air harmlessly. “Let’s get back to your balcony, Magnifico. Duke Fouchand must have trusted you greatly, to give you a sightline on his own quarters.”

“A trust I would never abuse,” he said calmly.

“Sure.” Fernan snorted. “In any case, you arrived here for a reason. You said it to me, and unless you want to deny it now, it seems pretty clear to me.”

“That isn’t a question.” Magnifico chuckled. “But I shall indulge you anyway. Yes, I was here to negotiate with Duke Fouchand on behalf of my king for the future of relations between Avalon and the Empire of the Fox. What’s left of it, anyway.”

The gallery lit up at that, though Lumière silenced them quickly enough. Shouldn’t he be insulted by that too though?

Laura’s entire head was red. “You’re telling us that King Harold sent a bard to negotiate in his name? On something so important?”

“Precisely. I assure you, I have the King’s full confidence.”

Fernan picked up the Duke’s book from the table. “On Malin and Empire, by Jehanne Corelle, the final book the Duke ever set eyes upon, given it was sitting open on his table. Buildings, populations, laws, all the logistics of the city since the era of the Three Cubs.”

Somewhere in the room, a quiet gasp escaped into the air.

“What of it? Are you going to take out the last hairbrush the Duke used as well?”

“Don’t you think he was reading it to make a better decision about your deal?” That same gasp sounded again, louder this time, and higher pitched.

Lumière split the air apart with another great crack of light. “Lady Annette, you have named a sage to speak with your voice in your defense. You have no right to disrupt this trial. Make another sound, and I shall need to have you taken from the room.”

Annette stepped forward gingerly, still hunched in against herself. “I’m sorry, but I have to say something. That’s the book Camille always pointed to, to show the decline of Malin after the Empire splintered. I’m positive grandfather was reading it because of her.”

“That’s that book?” Guy leaned his head forward. “I always thought she was showing him the Fox Queen’s memoires or something.”

“It is distressing,” Lumière acknowledged. “Distressing to think that Duke Fouchand might have taken that dead fool’s words so seriously. Whatever impossible dreams Leclaire might have carried about reuniting the Fox Queen’s domain, they have no relevance to this case. Move along, Fernan.”

Magnifico was lying, trying to implicate Annette, following along with Fernan’s preparations to make sure there was nothing that could hurt him. Jethro had said he set his son up to die, that he was an untrustworthy monster, but this…

Fernan felt his eyes burn brighter as he faced all the information he had, and the awful conclusion it pointed to.

As horrible as it was to imagine, so much of it fit. The proximity, the power, the ruthlessness… The motive. “Magnifico, earlier, you asked what reason you could possibly have to lie about what you saw.”

“And you had no answer, you impudent boy, because there is none.”

“There’s one,” Fernan corrected, heart heavy. “You offered Duke Fouchand a deal: closer ties to Avalon, at the very least, more likely a protectorate like Charenton, where your king rules in truth. Instead, he read the book Camille gave him with the explicit purpose of winning support for reuniting the old Empire.” Fernan took a deep breath, an intense ball of fire forming in his stomach. “He was going to refuse your deal, so you killed him.”

A roar erupted through the gallery, a quell of voices overlapping so heavily it was impossible to make anything out. It took Lumière four blasts of light, each louder than the last, before they finally went silent.

“The representative for the defense shall remain civil, and conduct himself a sense of decorum.” His voice was firm. “Accusing the witness of murder is highly improper, as I might have hoped would go without saying.”

“Not to mention desperate.” Laura’s red shone bright. “Are you going to accuse me next? Aurelian? Honestly, it’s pathetic.”

“This is not the sort of discrediting I had in mind!” Guy hissed.

“What else could it be?” Fernan fired back. “Blanche saw someone dangling the Duke off the balcony, so he didn’t just fall. It’s not Annette. Who else?”

“Who’s Blanche?” Guy asked by way of response.

Fernan sighed. “The maid. She was coached into exaggerating what she saw, but she insisted on that much even after the lies were uncovered. I don’t… I hate to think of it, but who else is there?”

“Annette, obviously.” Laura waved her hand dismissively, sending red sparks sailing through the air. “What a terrible line of logic! She was the only one in the locked room! No one else could have gotten in.”

“Unless Magnifico leapt across to the other balcony.”

“Oh come on! He’s not a sage, it’s not like he can jump thirty feet over a drop that would kill him.”

“Not a sage, no, but he does have access to magic. He’s a binder.” That sent another murmur echoing through the crowd until Lumière silenced it, this time with only one blast.

“Seriously?” Laura snorted fire. “Your arguments just keep getting more ridiculous. What could possibly make you think he’s a binder?”

“The Great Sun Spirit Soleil told me himself, when Lord Lumière took me to see him. Even if such an illustrious one’s word weren’t unimpeachable, spirits cannot lie when they have sworn to speak truth. Magnifico is a binder. To say otherwise would be to declare Soleil the first spirit to lie.”

“According to you.” Magnifico seemed to be breathing more heavily. “Soleil’s word may be beyond reproach, but yours, Fernan, is anything but. I’m sure the Great Sun Spirit would never concern himself with a mere bard such as myself.”

“I saw you talk to him directly!”

“You did?” Magnifico flashed white.

“He did, while supervising my son,” Lumière said gravely. “And while Soleil did not confirm you by name to be a binder at our next meeting, he did say as much about ‘the bard’ he’d spoken with last. There’s no point in denying that much, Magnifico.”

Now he’s helping? Lumière was the only one who could confirm either time Fernan had seen Soleil. If he’d simply denied it, as Magnifico had, the bard’s version of events could have stood. So Lumière wasn’t his collaborator in full, not completely. There was still a chance to convince him.

“Aurelian,” Magnifico said coldly. “Don’t forget what I’m doing for you. Without my help, that serpent girl would already have killed you.”

“I am acting as the magistrate. It is my duty to remain impartial.” His hair began to float slightly above his shoulders, pulsing gold and white. “I will have the truth of you, no matter the cost. Any dealings we might have had stand apart from that. Help us dispel all doubt.”

“Very well.” Magnifico shrugged, the intensity gone from his voice. “I picked up a few trinkets imbued with the power of long-dead spirits back in Cambria, a reward for my service to the Crown. Soleil probably recognized me as a binder because of that. But it certainly doesn’t mean I could jump from one balcony to another and back, let alone harm the Duke. I didn’t even bring them to Guerron! A binder has no power without his tools; that much is well known.”

“The maid would have noticed it too,” Laura added. “Something like that would be extremely noteworthy. There isn’t a chance she would have kept silent about seeing a man jump like that, and we know she was looking the right way at the relevant time.”

“And there you have it.” Magnifico took another bow, cloak trailing after his arm once more. For a moment, Fernan wondered if it were the same purple one he’d worn when they’d first met, since the material looked surprisingly ordinary to his sight. “I shall forgive you for these accusations if you agree to let the matter lie now. Exterminating all doubt has value, I’m willing to grant.

Then you still haven’t addressed the biggest reason to doubt you.

“Look at this lock, though!” Fernan picked up, holding it out to Lumière. “My lord, your own sages at the temple said there was evidence of magic clogging the mechanism. Obviously his binder abilities locked Annette in after the fact to make it look like she did it after Magnifico escaped.”

“Oh Fernan, you do grow quite tiresome. The fact remains that I had no way to get to his chambers, certainly not without being seen by the maid.”

“But the magic in the lock is dark, as is your aura. You could fade away into the night.” Like when Jethro suddenly disappeared at the end of every conversation with him.

Laura tilted her head. “Does anyone have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“None,” Lumière replied. “But my doubts are assuaged. The fact is, there’s no real evidence that Magnifico was ever in the Duke’s chambers before his death. The lock was destroyed when guards bashed the door in, which accounts for the damage in the mechanism perfectly fine on its own. How many powers must you invent to fit Magnifico into your theory? He can fly, invisibly, then seal a lock with darkness without opening the mechanism?” He sighed. “I hope you never have to go to war as I did, Fernan. But if you do, you’ll soon learn that the simplest explanation is nigh-invariably the correct one, however much we wish it weren’t so.”

Fuck. Why couldn’t he just—

Have to try something. “Look at this scrap of cloth,” he said, presenting the strange black material to everyone. “It was hidden under weeks of ivy growth when we found it; clearly not placed after the Duke’s death. Magnifico’s cloak probably snagged on the balcony as he left. If you dig through his stuff, you’re sure to find one in that same strange black material.”

“According to you!” Laura slammed her fist against the podium. “All we have is your word for it that it was even there! You’re not a witness here, Fernan. I don’t know how many times I have to explain that.”

“I’m willing to entertain the possibility,” Lumière said. “Provided it has direct relevance to the matter at hand. And of course, it’s not firm proof of anything.”

“Thank you.” Fernan wasn’t quite able to keep the befuddlement entirely out of his voice. “To begin with, look at the material. That strange glossy black is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s incredibly distinctive.”

“Distinctive? It’s a piece of purple cloth. Are you blind?”

“Yes! Did you not know that?”

Laura shook her head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me?”

Fernan turned to Lumière. “Look, it could be a coincidence, sure, but surely if you found the larger garment it came from in Magnifico’s effects, you’d accept that as evidence he was there that night.”

Lumière shrugged. “Sure. And if the Fox Queen rose from the grave and denounced him, I’d accept that too. It doesn’t mean what we have right now actually proves anything.”

Magnifico laughed. “So in your demented fantasy where I’m capable of plotting the perfect murder, I’m also such an imbecile that I hold onto the clothes I wore doing the deed, even after they tear in the process? Which is it, Fernan? Am I an innocent fool or a master criminal? It can’t be both.”

Shit, he probably burned them months ago. Just like Jethro had said, the best way to get rid of something forever. But Fernan couldn’t give up, not when it would see Annette condemned for something she obviously didn’t do.

Gingerly, his fingers wrapped around the final piece of evidence on the table, Jethro’s crown. “Look at this, then!” he called out, trying to hide his lack of confidence. “This evidence clearly contradicts Magnifico’s story.”

“How’s that?” Lumière asked. “AlI I see is a black metal crown.”

“It, umm…”

“This is just sad, Fernan.” Laura leaned back against the wall. “I respect the stubbornness, but you’ve got to know when to quit.”

“Excellent. Then we have no further cause for disagreement.” Magnifico bowed once more, the mundane material of his cloak flapping behind him, barely visible from the heat radiating off of his body.

“Wait, is that…” Laura stared at him, her aura so dim as to be near invisible. “There’s a hole in your cloak, Magnifico.”

He snorted. “Please. There’s no—” He looked down, then jumped back. “It’s a coincidence!”

“He has a point,” Fernan muttered quietly. “The material doesn’t match. It’s not from the same cloak.”

Guy dug his fingers into Fernan’s shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered. “This is our only chance at letting Annette go free.”

“But—”

“I will ruin you. Stay silent!”

“Magnifico.” Lumière blazed bright, his hair glowing gold as it floated behind his head. “Explain yourself at once.”

“What’s there to explain? It’s a hole. I probably tore it on a nail or something.”

Lumière shook his head. “The color, the material, the size and shape, they all match perfectly. Fernan wouldn’t lie about this. Either you wore that cloak to Fouchand’s room that night, or someone else did, but it was there.”

“Seriously, Aurelian? Do you even understand what I’m doing for you? You can’t exactly go to a bulletin board and find someone who’ll—”

“Not now!” He silenced the muttering gallery with a final flash of light. “We are not here to rule on Magnifico’s guilt. That shall be determined at a later time, with a trial of his own, as he is entitled to, with a sage of his own for defense.” He stared at Magnifico as he said it, disgust radiating from him. “In the meantime, it is obvious that Annette is innocent. I declare her the victor of the duel, and command that she be allowed free.”

Clamor erupted at that, unsilenced by Lumière. He merely walked out through a door in the back, his head bowed the whole way.

Fernan could barely feel Guy slapping him on the back, or Annette hugging him close.

The thanks washed over him, almost inaudible in the din, but he found himself walking back to the hall, giving a need for fresh air as an excuse. The sounds gradually faded as he made his way out to the courtyard, though the rumble was still audible in the background.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

It was good that Annette was free, that Lumière had recognized the true killer, but…

“Hello Fernan!” Jethro appeared in front of him in an instant. “Do my ears deceive me, or did you do an excellent job back there?”

“I—”

Jethro laughed. “Noticed my assistance, did you? I’ll admit, crafting the right cloak and slipping it into his things wasn’t easy, but that’s what I’m there for! Couldn’t have done it if you didn’t find that cloth and show it to me, either.”

“You— It’s a forgery? All of that was built on a lie?”

Jethro patted him on the shoulder. “You’re welcome!”