Conquest of Avalon

Guy Valvert scoffed quietly as the first witness was brought in. “Powder on a pig,” he said softly, shaking his head in disapproval. “It bodes well for us that they would draw on the unreliable fables of a maid to support themselves. Had they anyone more credible, surely they would have been used.”

Unless they didn’t even think it was necessary.

Lord Lumière inclined his head slightly at Laura Bougitte, his golden aura glowing brighter. “Lady Bougitte, as it is you who issues the challenge in the name of the Empire, please present your account of the facts.”

“Definitely, Lord Lumière.” Traces of flame danced around her hair as she bowed in turn. “It’s a shame that Lady Annette choose truth as her battlefield, because it’s the very facts that are going to bury her.”

“How dare she smile as she defies her Duchess?” Valvert muttered. “It’s disgraceful.”

“On the twenty-sixth day of the third month, between the hours of midnight and sunrise, Lady Annette pushed the late, great Duke Fouchand from his balcony, killing him instantly as he hit the courtyard below.” She clicked her tongue. “An awful way to go, all the worse for the betrayal from such a close member of his own family. When Soleil rose from beyond the horizon, the Duke’s body was found, while Lady Annette was barricaded in his chamber.”

Because someone or something locked her in. There was room for argument, there, an alternative narrative based on what actually happened.

“She might deny what she did, but it’s totally obvious what happened!” Laura glowed bright. “Not only was she the only one who could have been in his room when he fell, I’ve got a witness that saw her push him. She’ll tell you the whole harrowing tale, when we call her up, cementing the Lady’s guilt beyond all doubt.”

She took another bow, flames on her fingertips tracing streaks through the air as her hand moved.

“Excellently put, Laura.” Slowly, Lumière turned his head to Fernan. “And the defense? Your account of events?”

“Exactly as I wrote it,” Guy hissed. “It’s the entire reason you’re here.”

“Of course.” Fernan sighed. “Lord Lumière, members of the gallery, I offer you the simple truth, penned by the esteemed Count Valvert of Dorseille himself, in defense of his innocent cousin.” He stood straight, projecting his voice across the room. “Lady Annette is your Duchess, the ruler of your city, who stands above us all through the ancient and hallowed blood Debray that runs through her veins, a bloodline as old as the Empire itself. This very trial is an affront to her authority and her birth, and in a just world each of you would suffer horribly for even allowing it to take place, let alone attacking her personage over falsehoods.”

Amazingly, the people in the room didn’t jeer at that, rather staring with rapt attention, their eyes all focused on Fernan as one.

“The vile calumnies spread by duplicitous lowborn filth are nothing more than that, a pathetic attempt to besmirch the character of a woman who has faithfully served not only Duke Fouchand, but all of you. Who was it that planned the last six festivals of the sun, where feasting and merriment were given to even the lowest among you? Who is it that protected our shores from smugglers and brigands through her bureau of the sea, and ensured that the burden on those entering our fair city was never more than they could bear? Who is it that caught, tried, and executed six pieces of human filth attempting to do all of us great harm not three months ago?”

As he spoke, a chorus of muttering began to spread through the gallery, though quiet enough that Lumière made no move to arrest it.

Was Guy’s horrid, condescending speech actually working?

“All of you who have ever walked the beach safely, secure in the knowledge that her harbor guards would protect you, all of you who have ever feasted at the festival of the sun, or caught sight of its famed tournaments, you owe a fair judgment not only to your noble Duchess, but to yourselves. You, Lord Lumière, most of all.”

At that, the sun sage leaned forward in his seat.

“Lady Annette has done nothing to act against you, and you must know she would never harm her grandfather. Do not allow what is convenient to trump what is right. Declare her innocent before all the world, for she is.”

A few scattered bits of applause echoed off the glass walls of the room before Lumière flared pure white and called for silence.

Really? That worked?

“I told you,” Valvert said smugly. “This is a question of perception, emotions. Camille of all people told me that once, and as horrid a woman as she was, she was also right. Discredit Annette’s accusers and defend her character, until Lumière has no choice but to concede to reality.”

“It’s still his decision, in the end.” And he hardly looked convinced, leaning back in his chair as the witness was brought to the center of the room. “But I see what you’re doing.” Fernan allowed himself the slightest of smiles. “If we can convince the people of her innocence, Lumière will have a riot on his hands the moment he rules against her.”

“Precisely. If he wishes to rule the city, his pawn must actually prove Annette guilty, not merely ram a judgment through.” Valvert gave him a hard pat on the back. “All the more so when you consider who’s gathered here: courtiers, nobles, even some merchants, who for all their common trade are at least influential in their own right. Aurelian wanted a firm show of power before the most important people in the city, but they knew Annette better than the riff-raff, and their opinion matters far more.”

You were so close, Guy. “I wish we could have done this outside. Then everyone could see it.” Some fresh air would have helped ameliorate the heat, too.

“Well that simply isn’t done, boy. The better part of the city is still here to bear witness, and I knew just the argument to craft for them.” He shook his head. “Now pay attention. That maid is going to spread her disgusting lies, and you must tear them to shreds.”

Fernan nodded. “Since Annette didn’t do it, there’s got to be something in her account that contradicts reality. If I can pick it apart just right—”

“Don’t be stupid. She’s just a maid. Attack her birth, her character, the very audacity that she would betray her liege lady. Her word alone against Annette’s is worthless, and it’s galling that Aurelian would imply otherwise with this farce of a trial.”

“He seemed genuinely mad at Annette. Whatever this maid’s account of things is, it seemed like it convinced him, at least along with everything else.”

Valvert scoffed, but remained silent as the proceedings began.

“Alright, what’s your name?” Laura leaned comfortably against the back wall. “And like, what’s your deal?”

Lumière turned his head to her, probably glaring given the hush in the air.

Laura jumped up from her slouch nervously. “Uh rather, I mean: Please state your name, lands, and titles for the benefit of the magistrate.”

“M-my name is Blanche, if it please milady.” Her posture was stooped with age, her movements shaky. “I haven’t got any lands or titles, just supervise the cleaning some nights.”

“As if that doesn’t speak for itself,” Guy muttered.

“The representative of the Empire may begin her direct examination,” Lumière spoke gravely, ignoring Valvert.

“Right!” Laura stepped out from behind her podium. “Where were you on the twenty-sixth night of the third month? The night Duke Fouchand was murdered.”

“Wait, hold on,” Fernan interrupted. “We haven’t established that the Duke was murdered. That’s what the whole trial is about. You can’t just proceed as if it’s already proven fact.”

Lumière laughed. “He’s got you there, Laura. Please rephrase the question.” That worked too? It was getting less and less clear what Lumière’s goal was, here.

Guy nodded approvingly. “He’s meant to be a neutral arbiter. If something seems amiss, don’t hesitate to object. And be ready for Laura to do the same.”

“Right.” Fernan nodded.

“Fine.” A flicker of flame accompanied Laura’s breath. “Where were you the last night of the Duke’s life?”

Blanche’s aura was barely visible as her head turned back and forth to follow the exchange. When she spoke again, the hesitance in her voice shone through even more strongly than before. “I was working in the East Tower. Was in there all night, really.”

“The whole time? Did you leave that tower at any point?” Laura asked rhetorically.

“I did not, milady. Couldn’t, with the state of that place.” Interesting.

“How is the visibility of Duke Fouchand’s balcony from the East Tower? What could you see from where you were working?”

“A-all of it, near as I could tell. Milord’s balcony is just over on another tower close by. Right next to East Tower, really. You can’t miss it.”

Laura flared brighter. “Tell us what you saw that night.”

“Was horrible, it was.” Blanche shifted her weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Lady Annette came out from inside, ran up behind him while he was all unsuspecting, and pushed him right off. I didn’t have a second to think before he hit the ground.” She sniffled. “I ran for the guards as fast I could, and they asked me all the same questions.” And probably gave her the Guy Valvert treatment, if her obvious fear was anything to go by.

“Well, there you have it.” Laura vaulted back over her podium. “Nothing further, Lord Lumière.”

“Good. And rather definitive, it would seem.” Lord Lumière nodded, sunken back into his chair. He didn’t sound particularly pleased, but maybe that was a front. “Does the defense have any questions of its own, before the witness is dismissed?”

“I do.” Fernan walked out into the center of the room, trying to maintain his composure.

“Go for the throat,” Guy whispered as he passed, admittedly probably trying to help in his own way. “Do this right and the gallery will be throwing things at her before long.”

Just let it lie. There were more important things to focus on right now. “Blanche, you mentioned having to work late because of the state of things. Was there some unusual mess that night? And if so, what was it?”

Blanche blinked. “Oh, it was awful, it was. Scorched walls, burned tapestries, half the shelves were knocked over, and—”

“That’s enough,” Laura cut in. “None of this is relevant to anything.”

“It could be! Something like that happening the same night the Duke died probably isn’t a coincidence. It sounds like a fight happened, probably involving a flame sage.”

“No, Laura is right,” Lumière spoke hurriedly, leaning forward intently. “Some sages getting into a scuffle in the halls is hardly relevant to the situation here. Move on to another line of questioning or dismiss the witness.”

Fuck. That had seemed promising, too.

Fernan jumped back to the table with his evidence, trying to see if any of it contradicted what the maid had said.

“You know,” Guy said as Fernan was rifling through. “The East Tower is where my uncle put the rooms that locked from the outside.”

“It was a prison?”

“No, of course not. The accommodations were up to the standards of the rest of the castle, as was the view. They were perfectly suitable for any noble guests that might be staying there. But some ‘guests’ cannot be allowed to roam freely, while remaining too well-born for a dungeon. Those chambers serve as a… compromise between security and diplomacy.”

“Oh…” Of course. “Someone was escaping captivity, or trying to. They got in a fight and she had to clean it up.”

“It seems the most likely possibility. Though I can’t recall anyone occupying those rooms at the time.” Guy shrugged. “Most likely it’s as irrelevant as Aurelian says. Just impugn this vile liar and be done with it.”

“Well?” Lumière called out. “May the witness be dismissed, or do you wish to try more of my patience?”

Fernan started to walk back, trying to think of anything else to ask that might help. Some—

He stopped, and turned back to Valvert. “What floor were those rooms on?”

“What? Uh, on the ground.They don’t exactly deserve a view. What does it matter?”

And there it is. Fernan allowed himself a smile as he stepped back into the center. “Blanche, you were cleaning on the ground floor, is that correct?”

“Yes milord. All night, I was.”

“I’m not a—” He shook his head. “Anyway, you were at ground level. Duke Fouchand’s balcony is many stories into the air. I visited it myself, and the ground seemed awfully far away at the time.” Especially climbing up that accursed ladder blind. “You could really see it clearly?”

“I—” She put her hand to her mouth. “I was looking up, is all. If you crane your neck up enough, you can still get a good look. It’s nice to look at, pretty thing, it is.”

“Fernan, please don’t waste my time going over the same material as the Empire’s representative already did.” Lumière drummed his fingers against the wood under them.

Fernan stepped closer to her. “I’m just concerned by the perspective, that’s all. Imagine the sightline. Most of us in this room have seen the courtyard ourselves, perhaps the Duke’s balcony as well. If you’re looking up at it from that far beneath, most of what you see is the floor of it from the bottom. Only the very edge would be visible at that angle. So if you were where you say you were, I don’t see how you could have seen anyone push the Duke from behind. I doubt you could even see the Duke.”

“I could so see the Duke!” she fired back. “I saw him from below, saw him dangled over the ledge and then drop.”

“But not anyone behind him. Not from that angle.”

Laura scoffed. “That’s pretty weak, Fernan. It’s not like it’s impossible that she might have seen it.”

“Unless she can see through the floor, it pretty much is. She claims Annette ran out from inside the apartments. That, indisputably, wouldn’t have been visible from that low angle.” I should have thought of it sooner. But then, I can see through the floor. “We can walk over there right now and take a look. Put someone up on the balcony for a demonstration, even. I’m confident it will back up what I’m saying.”

Blanche jumped up, facing Laura with a jittering, weak glow. “I-I’m no liar! Please, don’t… Lady Bougitte, I’m only saying what I was supposed to.”

“Good,” Guy growled with satisfaction. “Now end her.”

“I’m not calling you a liar,” Fernan said instead. “But it’s easy to embellish, especially if it helps assuage the people interrogating you.”

“S’ not emblement though! Lady Annette was the only one in the room. She had to have pushed him. It couldn’t have been anyone else. It’s just like you said, Lady Bougitte.”

Laura hissed a stream of fire, clenching her fists tightly together. “All you had to do was tell them what you saw!”

“But the guards said—”

“Idiots.” She banged her head against the back of the wall. “Probably thought they were helping too, coaching you like that.”

“It is distressing indeed,” Lumière said. “Rest assured, the witness will be disciplined for any falsehoods spoken today. Speak to what you saw, not what your interrogators told you to say.”

“Y-Yes, m-milord.” Blanche shrunk down even lower into herself. They must have threatened her badly for her to have done it. “I just saw the Lord Duke dangling over the edge, and then he dropped.”

Dangling… She’d mentioned that before as well. “You’re positive he was hanging off the edge? He didn’t fall in one smooth motion?”

Blanche scratched nose. “Wasn’t hanging, really. His arms weren’t grabbing onto nothing, just flailing in the air.”

“Lady Annette twisting the knife before plunging it in, obviously.” Laura was breathing more evenly now, her posture returned to the slouch. “You see? This quibble changes nothing.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Fernan pointed to the Duchess, sitting silently to the side with her fists closed tightly, aura dim. “Lady Annette is capable of many things, but I highly doubt that lifting an adult man and holding him over the edge for an extended period of time is one of them.”

“She pushed him and then he grabbed the ledge, then,” Laura said. “It still doesn’t—”

“Both his hands were flailing, she said. Someone was holding him up, and it couldn’t have been Annette.”

Laura shook her head. “It had to have been Annette. She was the only one in his locked chambers when he fell. Is it so hard to believe that she’s stronger than she looks?”

“Yes!” Fernan insisted, though he felt the weakness of the argument. “It means someone else must have been in there too, someone strong enough to hold the Duke over the side for that long without dropping him.”

“There was no one else in the room! I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but—”

“Enough,” Lumière announced. “The only evidence that this alleged dangling even took place is the word of one proven to be prone to deception. I can’t in good conscience accept her testimony as evidence of anything.” He leaned back. “Rest assured, she will pay for this misdeed in time. For the moment, we must continue the trial.”

Blanche erupted into tears, as the guards forcefully grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

“It’s so unfair. They bullied her into adding that, and now she’s the one they’re punishing for it.”

“I know, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Valvert patted him hard on the back again, in exactly the same spot as last time, which made it hurt even worse. “Not as vicious as I might have hoped for, but it got the job done.”

“Laura,” Lumière called out over the sound of the poor woman’s sniffling. “Please call your next witness.”

“Next witness? I thought we said that he was unnecessary here since we had another witness anyway. And more complicated than he was worth.”

“Well, it looks as if that may have changed.” He held up his hands. “Of course, I am merely a neutral arbiter. The case to bring against Lady Annette is yours, as is the manner by which you do so. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“No, of course.” She took a long, deep breath. “I call forth as my next witness Magnifico of Avalon.”

“Very well,” Lumière said. “Guards, go fetch him from his quarters.”

Magnifico?

Fernan couldn’t help but grin. No wonder they’d been reluctant to call him! He’d even helped Fernan build his case, hardly the easily-bullied maid who would say whatever they needed her to.

It would also give him an official chance to ask him about the locking mechanism. Jethro had mentioned binders, and Magnifico might have some unique insight there, being from Avalon. It was a stretch, but there was a chance he might be able to offer more than the sun sages at the temple had. Something more definitive could conclusively prove Annette’s innocence, now that the locked door was the only real evidence against her.

Perhaps the scrap of cloth too, on the off-chance it was actually relevant. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, anyway.

Guy took the opportunity to step out for some fresh air while Magnifico was being fetched, and Laura returned to boxing the air. Lumière remained silent, staring out from his seat with calculated calm.

Fernan decided to use the time burying himself in the rest of the evidence, trying to pare down his questions to the essentials and ensure that he could secure Magnifico’s help as fast as possible, before Laura and Lumière could confuse matters.

The shuffling sounds of people standing up pulled him out of his study. As they parted, he could see Magnifico’s familiar dark aura making its way through the room.

“Hello Fernan,” he said as he approached. “You know, I’ve been around it for decades, but all this courtly intrigue still feels strange to me. I wasn’t exactly raised as a prince.”

“You’ll be fine,” Fernan assured him. “I’ll help you, if you need it.”

He chuckled. “That’s a very kind offer, Fernan, but I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse.”

“What? Why?”

He patted Fernan on the shoulder gently. “Because I know that Annette killed the Duke, and I’m about to go prove it.”

A pit settled deep in his stomach, his eyes flaring bright and hot. “You… you… How could you? You know she’s innocent! We talked about this!”

Magnifico put his hand on Fernan’s head and ruffled his hair before Fernan could jerk his head back. “I said I had doubts. Now I don’t.” He shrugged casually, as if condemning an innocent woman to death was nothing to him. “That’s just the way it is. Nothing you can do about it.”