THE audience stood up in a shuffle. Somewhere in the back a thud announced a fallen chair and a woman cursed.
A middle-aged man scurried into the room. The billowing blue robe hung off his shoulders like a sheet drying on a clothesline. The face above the robe was brown, weather-edged, and sun-dried like a raisin. Two enormously wide eyebrows severed his face, like two fat, hairy caterpillars. His jaw moved as he walked to the seat, as if he were an old, decrepit bull chewing cud.
“The Angel County of the Edge District Court is now in session,” Clyde boomed. “Judge Dobe presiding. Be seated.”
Everybody sat.
Clyde stepped toward the judge. “Case number 1252, Mars versus Sheeriles.”
Judge Dobe reached under his desk, took out a small metal bucket, and hacked into it. “All right,” he said, sliding the bucket back in its place.
William wondered if Kaldar was right and this was a circus.
“Advocates, rise,” Clyde barked.
The blond woman stood up and so did Kaldar.
The judge’s massive eyebrows crept up. “Kaldar. Are you the one speaking for the plaintiff today?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Well, shit,” Dobe said. “I guess you’re familiar with the law. You hit it over the head, set its house on fire, and got its sister pregnant.”
A huge grin sparked on Kaldar’s face. “Thank you, Your Honor.”
The blonde cleared her throat. “With all due respect, Judge, this man isn’t qualified to serve as an advocate. He’s a convicted felon.”
Dobe’s gaze settled on the blond woman. “I don’t know you. Clyde, do you know her?”
“No, Judge.”
“There you have it. We don’t know you.”
“I’m here to represent the Sheerile family.” The blond advocate stepped forward, holding out a parchment. “I’m a practicing Jurist in New Avignon. Here are my credentials.”
“New Avignon is in the Weird,” Dobe said.
The blonde smiled. “I’ve made an extensive study of Edge law for this case, Judge.”
“What’s wrong with local talent that Lagar Sheerile has to go into the Weird to find himself an advocate?” Dobe squinted at the row of empty chairs. “Where is Lagar? And the rest of his kin?”
“He waived his right to appear,” the blonde said. “The Code of the county gives him that right in Statute 7, Section 3.”
“I know the Code,” Dobe told her. His eyes gained a dangerous glint. “I wrote half of it. So Lagar thinks he’s too good for my courtroom. Fine, fine. Kaldar, this Jurist over there says you aren’t qualified, because you’re a convicted felon. You got anything to say to that?”
“I’m a convicted felon in the Weird and in the Broken,” Kaldar said. “In the Edge I was only fined. Besides, the same statute also states that any Edger can serve as his own advocate. Since the matter concerns the communal property owned by the Mar family and I’m a member of that family, I contend that I’m representing myself and, therefore, may act as my own advocate.”
“Good enough.” Dobe waved his hand. “Proceed.”
Kaldar cleared his throat. “The Mar family owns a two-acre parcel named Sene, consisting of land and the Sene Manor house.”
Kaldar passed the maps to Clyde, who passed them to Dobe. Dobe squinted at them for a while and waved his hand again. “Proceed.”
“On the seventh of May, Cerise Mar, Erian Mar, and Mikita Mar traveled to the aforementioned manor house and found Lagar Sheerile, Peva Sheerile, Arig Sheerile, and several men in their employ on the premises. Cerise Mar voiced a polite and a nonviolent request that they get the hell off our land, which was refused.”
Dobe peered at Cerise. “And you let it go why?”
Cerise rose. “We’re a peaceful family, and we let the court handle our disputes.”
The spectators guffawed. Dobe cracked a smile. “Come again?”
“They had rifles and we had riders,” Cerise said.
Dobe’s silver-dusted eyebrows performed some sort of wiggling maneuver. “Noted. And why do you look like something an ervaurg stored for a lean day?”
“Tough day in the swamp, Your Honor.”
“Noted. Sit your behind down.”
Cerise sat.
Dobe glanced at Kaldar. “So what do you want from the court today?”
“We want the Sheeriles off our property.”
“Fine.” He looked at the blonde. “Your turn. Just to be fair, I’ll bring you up to speed. I run a clean hearing, no long speeches. Don’t quote me precedent, argue from the law. I don’t give a pig’s ear for precedent—they let any idiot be a judge nowadays.”
The blonde muttered, “No kidding,” under her breath.
Chuckles raised his head and hissed. His yellow eyes locked on the blonde. William smiled to himself. He’d seen that intense look before. He wore it from time to time. If he could crack the big cat’s skull and search it, he would come up with one clear thought: How fast can you run?
“You said something?” Dobe asked.
“No, Your Honor.”
“Good, then. Proceed.”
The blonde’s lips stretched in a flat smile. “The property in question was legally sold to the Sheerile family by Gustave Mar. Here is the Deed of Sale and the Deed of Ownership to the Sene Manor and the land attached to that dwelling.”
She held up two papers. Clyde ambled over, took them to Dobe. Dobe squinted at them and waved the papers at Kaldar. “Looks good to me. And I don’t suppose Gustave is around to dispute it since his daughter is sitting at the table.”
“We haven’t seen him since that morning,” Kaldar said. “But we’ll find him.”
“That’s fine and dandy, but meanwhile we have these deeds here. You got anything to say about this?”
Kaldar looked down.
The room fell silent.
So that’s it? William wondered. This was how it ended. She’d risked the Hand and raced through the swamp for this?
“Well?” Dobe asked.
Kaldar’s dark head drooped. He rummaged through the tangle of his hair.
“Answer the court,” Clyde boomed.
Kaldar raised his head. “Your Honor, Gustave couldn’t have sold Sene.”