‘You animal!’ Fletcher growled, hatred bubbling inside him, caustic and hot. He knew they wanted to make him angry, so he would act out in front of the judge. But the words were out before he could bite them back.
‘One more word out of you, Master Fletcher!’ the judge said, knocking his gavel against the desk for emphasis. ‘One word, and it’s back to the cells, where you can wait to hear the verdict.’
Fletcher bit his lip until he tasted hot blood, trying to stop himself from crying out at the unfairness of it all. Images of them beating Berdon’s unconscious body flooded his mind, and he could not shake them from his thoughts.
‘After that, we confiscated all the possessions in the property as evidence. In the fighting, the fire from Berdon’s forge somehow spread. His hut burned to the ground that night.’
Fletcher felt hot tears running down his cheeks. He sank to his knees. In one night, the man he loved most in the world lost everything. All because of him.
‘Your honour, I don’t understand what this has to do with the charge against the defendant. Can we get to the point, please?’ Arcturus’s voice was tight and angry.
‘I agree. Thank you, Captain Arcturus.’ The judge nodded. ‘Lord Cavell, unless you have any actual evidence to present, I find this line of questioning entirely irrelevant. Is there any?’
‘No, your honour. I think Jakov has said his piece,’ Didric replied.
‘Very well. You may go, Sergeant Jakov.’
‘Thank you, milord.’
The big man eased himself from the podium and walked out the side door. Just before he was out of sight, he gave Fletcher a sarcastic little wave. Fletcher looked away, but his gut twisted with a fresh wave of fury. He held it in, knowing that Jakov’s testimony was intended to goad him into a reaction.
‘Is that all then, Lord Cavell?’ the judge asked, shuffling his notes.
‘It is, your honour. The prosecution rests. As I said earlier, I believe you’ll find this is an open and shut case. I recommend a minimum sentence of life in prison.’
‘Thank you, Lord Cavell. I will take this under due consideration,’ the judge said, though his eyebrows creased with annoyance.
A low hum of conversation permeated the room as Arcturus stood and collected his notes.
‘I guess all my preparation for training as a judge paid off, huh, Fletcher,’ Didric croaked as he made his way back to his chair. ‘Although, one look at that fuddy-duddy makes me glad I ended up going down a different path.’
‘Like they would ever let a monster like you become a judge,’ Fletcher replied, hatred dripping from his words.
Didric’s shoulders stiffened and he turned back, despite a stern cough from the judge.
‘Remember, Fletcher, it’s my prison,’ Didric hissed, his eyes blazing with madness. ‘If you think withholding food is the worst I can do, your imagination is severely lacking.’
‘Lord Cavell, I must ask you to return to your seat,’ the judge ordered.
‘Actually, your honour, I would prefer it if Didric stayed.’ Arcturus strode forward and lifted Fletcher to his feet. The firm grip on Fletcher’s shoulders steadied the erratic beat of his heart. He took a deep breath and met the judge’s gaze.
‘Very well. Lord Cavell, please take the stand,’ the judge said, waving Didric back to the podium.
‘Would it be unorthodox if I was to bring Sergeant Jakov and Private Calista back in as well?’ Arcturus proposed.
‘It would be, but it is within the realm of the law. But let me ask this first: as I understand, you are not a qualified lawyer, Captain Arcturus. Why is it you who is defending the boy?’ the judge said.
‘I defend him because nobody else would, for fear of reprisal from the Triumvirate. Cowards, all of them.’ Arcturus shook his head, his voice bitter.
‘I am sorry, I am not familiar with this term, triumvirate,’ the judge said, furrowing his brow.
Fletcher was curious – he was also unfamiliar with the term.
‘Lord Cavell, Lady Faversham and Lord Forsyth have close ties in politics and business. That is what the three families have come to be known as,’ Arcturus replied.
So Didric was in cahoots with the Favershams and the Forsyths. Fletcher almost smiled to himself. How fitting. All the people who hated him most in the world, working together to bring him down. He should have known.
‘Perhaps they would not represent him because it is so obvious he is guilty,’ Didric said loudly. ‘No lawyer in his right mind would take a case like this.’
‘Quiet!’ Arcturus snapped, turning on Didric. ‘I did not speak during your plea. I would appreciate it if you afforded me the same courtesy.’
Didric rolled his eyes, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
‘Bring in Private Calista and Sergeant Jakov,’ the judge ordered. ‘And fetch chairs for them too.’
It took but a few seconds for the guard to bring them back in. Fletcher suspected they had been listening at the door.
‘Let’s get to it then, shall we?’ the judge said. He sniffed irritably as the guard dragged two chairs beside the podium, making a loud grating sound against the floor. ‘State your case and I shall give you my verdict.’
Fletcher watched the three onstage, wondering what game Arcturus was playing.
He had never told Arcturus, nor anyone else, the full story of what had happened that night. Kicking himself for it, Fletcher sank into an even deeper despair as Arcturus began to speak.
‘I want to first point out to the honourable judge, that there is no evidence whatsoever to support Private Calista and Sergeant Jakov’s claims, other than their testimony. Therefore, we must conclude that should their story be proved inconsistent, the judge must acquit Fletcher of all charges. Is that right, your honour?’
‘Well, that is a very simplistic interpretation of the law,’ the judge harrumphed. ‘If you cast sufficient doubt over their story, yes, I will be more inclined to find Fletcher innocent. However, you must also provide an alternative version of events, with proof.’
‘Thank y—’ Arcturus began.
‘Keep in mind that the matching testimony of three individuals is very powerful,’ the judge interrupted. ‘There must be significant doubt, Captain Arcturus. Significant indeed.’
‘Very well, your honour,’ Arcturus said, bowing his head with respect. ‘In that case, I shall begin by proposing a very different set of events that night.’
Clasping his hands behind his back, Arcturus turned back to the three witnesses.
‘On a cold evening, two years ago, Fletcher befriends an old soldier. As I understand, his name is Private Rotherham, also known as Rotter to his compatriots on the front lines. He was the man who was initially in possession of the summoner’s book. The two are drinking in the local tavern when Didric accosts them, accompanied by Jakov, and demands the book in exchange for a paltry sum that was never agreed to in the first place. Do you deny these events, Didric?’
‘I believe the proper form of address is Lord Cavell,’ Didric said, crossing his arms and challenging Arcturus with an obstinate glare.
‘Lord Cavell,’ Arcturus said, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. ‘Do you deny the charges? I have found several witnesses who would swear to it. It looks as if not everyone in the village would take your money, even those your father bankrupted.’
Didric flushed with anger, but kept his fury in check, responding in a measured voice.
‘I do not deny the charges. We did meet in the tavern that night, though I would debate with you whether we had agreed on the sale or not.’
‘Regardless,’ Arcturus said, turning to face the crowd and speaking louder. ‘There was an altercation between the four gentlemen, resulting in Didric attempting to kill Fletcher with a concealed blade. I ask you again, Lord Cavell – do you deny it?’
‘It was self-defence. The madman was choking me,’ Didric said, waving his hand as if it were barely worth mentioning. ‘In fact, it only
proves that he already had the intention to kill me, not to mention an even greater motive to do it, given what transpired that night.’
‘I am glad that you brought up self-defence,’ Arcturus said, pacing to the other side of the room. ‘For that will be very relevant later in the case. Now, given that Rotherham and Fletcher were friends and had even fought side by side, why would you be so surprised that Fletcher was later found in possession of the book?’
‘I didn’t say that, Calista did. She hadn’t been involved in the fight, so she didn’t know. I guess that was her reason for following, not ours,’ Didric replied smoothly, the good side of his face half crooked with a confident smile.
‘So why did you follow him then?’ Arcturus asked.
‘Curiosity. A boy going to a graveyard in the middle of the night is suspicious, don’t you think?’
‘Nothing to do with getting revenge for him beating you in that fight the night before?’ Arcturus pressed. Fletcher tried to hold back a bitter laugh, but the garbled snort that resulted earned him a severe look from the judge.
‘No,’ Didric responded, leaning back and crossing his arms again.
‘Well then. I guess we’ll just have to trust you on that. I find it curious that you and Jakov would not mention your fight to Calista, given the several hours you must have been together, but I’ll leave that for the honourable judge to consider,’ Arcturus said.
The judge huffed, then, after a shrug, scribbled something in his notes.
‘So then, at the graveyard,’ Arcturus said, tapping his chin. ‘Despite you having almost disembowelled him the night before and there being no love lost between you, Fletcher invites you to watch him attempt to summon a demon? There was no argument, no bad blood, when you surprised him there?’
‘I am a forgiving person, Captain. I didn’t threaten him and he certainly didn’t threaten me – not with two armed guards behind my back. Obviously, he was planning to set the demon upon us, so he acted all nice until he had the demon under his control.’
‘Ah. Control. I’m glad you brought that up. Tell me, what is the first thing you learn in summoning lessons at school, after infusing and your introduction to the ether?’ Arcturus asked.
‘Demonic control …’ Didric admitted, a flash of doubt crossing his face for the first time. Fletcher couldn’t help but smile. This line of questioning was obviously not one the bully had expected.
‘Do you really think, within a few minutes of summoning a demon, that a novice such as Fletcher could make it attack you? Without provocation, no less?’ Arcturus demanded, waving at Fletcher as if he were an incompetent. For the first time, Fletcher was glad of his filthy appearance. It certainly didn’t paint him as an expert summoner.
‘As I’m sure the judge is aware, controlling a demon is nearly impossible for someone who has just summoned their first one, especially when that person has had no previous knowledge of the art,’ Arcturus continued, raising his eyebrows.
‘Yes, this is true,’ the judge said, after a moment. ‘That does merit some thought.’
‘Maybe there was something in the book that taught him how to do it properly,’ Didric suggested, though his face had lost some of its colour.
‘I have here a copy of the same book, for evidence,’ Arcturus said, striding back to his desk and pulling out a thick sheaf of papers from a satchel he had brought with him. He slammed it on the table with a weighty thump, releasing a puff of dust. ‘I can assure the judge that there are no instructions on demonic control within its pages. Shall we take a recess for you to read through it, your honour?’
The judge looked at the tome in horror; it would take days for him to read it all. Fletcher couldn’t help but grin at Didric’s crestfallen expression. The arrogant boy had shot himself in the foot by preventing a real lawyer from speaking on his behalf. Only a summoner of Arcturus’s experience would have thought of that line of argument.
‘I’ll take you at your word, Captain,’ the judge said, clearing his throat. ‘I agree that it does cast some doubt over the prosecution’s version of events, but one might also argue that Fletcher is naturally gifted. I will, however, take it under due consideration. Please move on to your next point.’
‘Certainly, sir. I will now question each witness in turn. I also ask that they do not speak until I tell them to,’ Arcturus said, clasping his hands behind his back and stepping in front of the three witnesses.
‘Now, I want you to go into as much detail as possible. Let’s start with you, Private Calista. Tell me, what happened at the graveyard? What did Fletcher use to summon the demon?’
‘I … can’t really remember,’ Calista said, momentarily taken aback. ‘It was two years ago, you know.’
‘I do know. Just like you know exactly what he said and how he said it, on that night. But you don’t remember the tools he used? You witnessed a demon-summoning, but it didn’t seem a memorable event to you?’ Arcturus asked.
Calista looked over at Didric for help, but he stared ahead, his eyes fixed on Fletcher.
‘I think … he just read from the book.’
Fletcher kept his face as straight as possible, though inside he was rejoicing. Didric had obviously never told them how novices usually summoned their first demon.
‘Anything else?’ Arcturus asked.
‘I don’t remember …’ Calista said, her voice wavering.
Didric’s face was emotionless, but Fletcher could see the muscles of his jaw clench.
‘How strange. You described everything else in so much detail. Does that not seem unusual to you, your honour?’ Arcturus asked, his face a picture of innocence.
‘It does indeed,’ the judge said gravely, writing a note on the paper in front of him.
‘Perhaps Jakov can shed some light on the subject,’ Arcturus mused, touching a finger to his lip.
Jakov’s mouth hung open, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for clues.
‘For heaven’s sake,’ Didric blurted. ‘He used a scroll and a leather mat with a pentacle on it, like every other summoner before him. Why are we continuing with this farcical line of questioning?’
‘Lord Cavell!’ the judge snapped, banging his gavel against the table. ‘You will be quiet!’
‘My apologies, your honour,’ Didric said, holding his hands up in surrender. ‘I was just impatient to tell my side of the story.’
‘Not. Another. Word,’ the judge ordered, punctuating each syllable with a stab of his finger.
Fletcher felt a flash of hope, as he finally understood what Arcturus was trying to do. Didric had already fallen into his trap.
Arcturus continued to address Jakov. ‘Is that so? He read from a scroll and used a leather mat to summon the demon?’
‘It’s like Didric said,’ Jakov said slowly, looking desperately at Didric for confirmation. ‘I remember it now.’
‘Ah, good. I’m glad we have all that sorted,’ Arcturus said, nodding to himself. He began to walk back to his podium, then paused, as if he had just remembered something.
‘Lord Cavell. Where do you think he got these two items? I thought he was given only a book by the old soldier?’
Didric glared at Arcturus, and Fletcher could see the boy’s mind working as he considered what to say. Didric had not prepared for this.
‘I have no idea,’ Didric replied, looking at the ceiling as if deep in thought. ‘If I was to speculate, Fletcher was given those items as well. The soldier stole a summoner’s satchel, which would definitely have contained a summoning leather of some kind. The same with the scroll.’
‘Can you describe the scroll?’ Arcturus asked. ‘Perhaps tell us what colour ink was written on it. How large was the scroll? How white was the paper?’
‘You are not testing the validity of my story, Captain. You are simply testing my memory,’ Didric said, then sat back and smiled as if he had scored a point.
‘Nevertheless, please indulge me,’ Arcturus said, giving Didric an innocent s
mile.
‘The scroll was obviously an orc’s, written in their language. I remember it very clearly.’
Fletcher wondered for a moment how Didric knew of the scroll’s original owner. Then he remembered he had told Inquisitor Rook that the scroll was of orcish origin, in front of the entire class. Anyone could have told him that … he only hoped that was all Didric knew about it.
‘The ink was dark in colour, that’s all I can remember. The size was also difficult to judge, since each end was rolled up. The graveyard was too poorly lit to tell how white the paper was. Does that answer your question?’
‘It does. But saying the ink was dark – surely any writing would need to be dark, in order to be read. You’re absolutely sure you can’t give us any more detail on the colour of the ink?’
‘Do you really think that a murderer’s innocence can be proven because I can’t remember the exact colour of ink on the scroll? You should stick to war, Captain – you make a poor lawyer. It used dark ink and that’s all you’ll get from me.’
‘You’re quite sure?’ Arcturus said.
‘Completely,’ Didric replied, folding his arms defiantly.
‘And you, Jakov. Do you corroborate this story?’ Arcturus asked, striding over to him.
‘Yes, sir,’ Jakov mumbled.
‘Calista, has that description reminded you of anything?’
‘I think there was a scroll and mat like that, yes,’ Calista muttered.
‘So, to summarise. Didric and Jakov say that Fletcher used a rolled-up paper scroll of indeterminate size, written in dark ink to summon the demon, as well as a leather mat with a pentacle on it. Calista now corroborates that story,’ Arcturus announced.
‘Yes, Captain, that is quite clear,’ the judge said, reading through his notes. ‘Can you please let me know where you are going with this?’
‘Of course,’ Arcturus said. He strode over to his rucksack and withdrew an item, brandishing it in the air for all to see.