Riza slowly raised an immaculate eyebrow. "That’s quite an accusation," the vampire said, smiling. "But you should know, my dear elf, that we are in the court of law. And the law, unlike your delightful paper, requires proof of fact. I assume you have some?"
"Ha!" Vargaras scoffed, fluttering a floral-patterned fan before her face. "This elf doesn’t know the meaning of the word! Otherwise, she’d never have accused me of what she did. Dragging my name through the mud!"
"Everything I wrote was true! I was there!" Ava snapped.
"You’re a lying little snit and everyone knows it!"
"No! You’re the liar!"
"You are!"
"You are!"
"Ladies," Bones said.
"Please," Riza sighed.
The large door at the back of the room suddenly slammed open and an ancient man stepped inside.
Despite being in a room with three people centuries old, he looked far more ancient than all of them. Long dark robes garbed him, a white wig slipping on his head.
His nose was hooked and his eyes sunken amid wrinkles, but sharp for all that. His presence quieted the room as he shuffled to the large chair at the head of the table and took his seat with a creak of old bones.
"Your Honour," Riza and Bones said, bowing slightly to the ancient man.
"Sit down," Judge Meloch wheezed. A rheumy hand plucked a pair of small reading spectacles and perched them on the beak of his nose.
He shuffled some papers from a pile and took a look. "Now, we have a... defamation suit. Arbitration has been requested, and if an agreement cannot be found, we shall go to trial. Is that correct?"
"It is, your Honour," Riza said.
Meloch muttered under his breath and peered at the two undead. "Well, I am acting as witness. What is the offer?"
"Simple, your Honour," Riza said smoothly. "Ava Copperman will acknowledge that her story about the raid on the manor of the Countess Vargaras was a lie, and that my client was innocent in the matter of the cult. That she willfully defamed my client, and will first retract her story, the Morning Wood will print an apology on the front page, and she will pay twenty thousand gold coins in damages."
"Absurd," Bones said, pointing across the table. "Twenty thousand gold coins is a ridiculous price. My client is a reporter. She doesn’t have such funds."
"If the elf cannot pay," Riza said with a fanged smile. "Then, as is laid down in the books, she will forfeit her freedom in exchange for the debt, and become the indentured slave of Vargaras."
Meloch’s head swung from one to the other as they spoke. "Hmm. It seems we are at an impasse, then. Mr Bones? Does that mean that Miss Copperman," he said, peering at the elf, "rejects to the terms laid out?"
"Of course!" Ava said indignantly. "I told the truth! And I don’t see why I should have to be her fuck slave for that. If I put on a collar and let a human countess spank me and use me like a slut, it’s because I want to! You were running a sex cult in your basement! You almost used me as the avatar of your goddess! You’re the liar here!"
Vargaras burst into tears.
Ava flinched back, surprised and alarmed at the sudden outpouring of emotion from the other woman. The countess threw herself against Riza, weeping copiously. "Oh!" she cried. "Ohhhh! Do you see how she talks to me! Such slander! Such hurtful, hurtful words!"
Riza patted the weeping countess gently. "There there, my lady. No need to cry. It appears we have failed to come to an agreement anyway. Come," she said, helping Vargaras to her feet. "It seems our hand of mercy has been slapped aside. We shall see you both in court."
"Indeed we shall," Bones said blandly.
Still sobbing, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, Vargaras was helped around the table by the vampiress and out the door.
Meloch watched them go, and when the door had closed behind them, the old man rose. "Hm. Well, that was quick. Mr. Bones. Miss Copperman. I will see you in the courtroom. I’ll send along the paperwork to your office."
"My thanks," Bones said, inclining his head.
With a shrug of his robed shoulders, Melchor limped out of the room as well, leaving only Ava and Bones.
"I... I didn’t mean to make her cry," Ava said, flummoxed. "What happened?"
"There are many weapons in the courtroom, Ava," Bones said as he gathered up his papers. "Even if the facts are on your side, it is the sympathy of the jury that will often tell which course justice takes. And few things gather sympathy more than a woman’s tears."
"Doesn’t truth matter at all?" Ava asked.
"Oh yes," Bones said, stuffing his papers back in his briefcase, his hooded eye looking down at Ava from the grey cavern of his socket. "Truth is all that matters. But the law is not truth, Miss Copperman. It is a tool to find it, and like any tool, it depends on the wielder. We may swear to tell the truth under oath, but unless one brings iron evidence of a lie, and convinces others it is so, then a lie can stand as truth. The courts are an arena, as brutal and bloodthirsty as any pit fighting you’ll see around East Under. The only difference is we use words, and those are far more treacherous and far more deadly than fists. What the large print giveth, the small take away."
"Well, that doesn’t seem very fair," Ava said.
"Ah, but the law is fair, Miss Copperman. But it is fair to those who write the laws, and their language is as obscure as any you would find in even the blackest of arcane tome. And those who write them have a very powerful magic. More powerful than any spell or sorcery you’ll find in the wizard’s district."
"What power is that?" Ava asked.
Bones snapped shut the clasps of his briefcase. "Money."
Ava pouted. She knew it was true, in a way. But she hated it. Money was rarely used in the groves. When you lived long enough that most metal corrodes before you do, currency has little sway. "Then, um, should we... I dunno, try and raise Lady Primrose from the dead? Ghosts can talk."
"No. In addition to it being very difficult, it’s also quite illegal to raise the dead. Besides, it’s against the law for the recently deceased to engage in legal matters. Necromancers tend to manipulate things for their favour. Can you imagine the trouble if every heir got it in their head to raise their father from the grave to sign a new will? Chaos, my dear. Besides, the churches get very cross about that sort of thing."
"Then what do we do?"
Bones slid his briefcase off the table, swinging about stiffly. "I shall prepare our defence. Speak with the Silver Griffons, pour over previous cases.
There’s ample precedence to this. Cults are always attempting to summon a god or a demon or some creature from the darkest realms.
And inevitably, when they fail, it is up to the law to either free them, or hang them, depending if the heroes left any alive.
"As for you, Ava," Bones said, fixing her with a stare from the cavernous eye in the grey, decaying flesh. "I suggest you do not look into who killed Lady Primrose. And you certainly must not plumb your underworld sources to do this. Riza has had lifetimes to hone her skills, but not even she can deactivate a noble’s home defences with such ease. She’d have needed a wizard. Likely one with considerable skill. And not one registered with the assassin guild. The guild frowns on somebodies being killed by anyone other than them. Cuts into their business. And Lady Primrose’s death lacked their class."
Ava’s pointed ears perked up keenly. "Then, I should look into it?" she said.
"I cannot advise you on that course of action," Bones said.
"So, I shouldn’t do that?"
"I didn’t say that. I said I cannot advise it. And you certainly will not share any plans with me. I will have no knowledge of anything you do. Certainly not enough to be questioned about it. The only real crime under the law is to lie, Ava."
Ava’s face scrunched up with confusion. "So... wait, I should do it?"
"As I said, I cannot advise it. But if you do, I suggest you do it fast. Justice moves quickly when gold greases the wheels, and I have a feeling these wheels shall be slick indeed."
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