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of the crown’s resources.”
    “That is ludicrous,” an elderly gentlemen shouted, standing from one of the crowded seats near the front. The entire hall was full with people lined along the back walls, standing. Guards were posted at the key entrances and locations within the hall to keep order.
    “Who are you?” Justiciar Corwin asked.
    “I am Lucius Ewellyn,” the man said.
    “He’s an associate of the accused, Eric Bain, and hardly objective, my lord,” Magistrate Galen said, looking over his shoulder and giving Lucius a nasty look.
    “We are not listening to the defense at this time,” Corwin said, looking at Lucius. “We will only hear the initial complaint so that tomorrow we may officially begin with the charges.”
    “But my associate is under house arrest,” Lucius complained, bringing a subdued laughter from the crowd.
    “What is so humorous about this?” Corwin asked.
    “Allow me, my lord,” Galen started. “The accused was ill when he was brought to us by the Kesh.” The magistrate allowed his words to sink in for effect. The Kesh were not welcome in most societies and only loosely tolerated by those who either had to or, for monetary gain, were so inclined. The Kesh paid well for their services. “He had no companions and no servants at his abode, and so was taken to one of the local pubs where he often frequented. That is where he is located at this time.”
    Corwin nodded, understanding the humor. “Fine. Can we move on, then?”
    “But he is under arrest, and bail was neither offered nor conferred,” Lucius complained.
    “He’s under arrest for his own protection,” Galen shot back. “Several of the missing porters have family in Moartown.”
    “Ah yes, that would explain much. The last case, I had a lynching mob nearly kill the accused before we could try him,” Corwin said, reminiscing on the ordeal.
    “What happened to him?” Lucius asked.
    “He was found guilty of murder and executed for his crime,” Corwin explained calmly, and Lucius turned red.
    “Yes, a shame to have the accused killed before he can be properly executed,” Galen stated, nodding to emphasize his support of the justiciar.
    “This isn’t fair,” Lucius stammered.
    “Please, Mister Eweyllen,” Corwin said, holding a hand up to halt the man’s protests. “Your colleague will have his say in due time. We’ve traveled the better part of three days, and I’d like to retire for the night. We can discuss his bail, or lack thereof, tomorrow.”
    Lucius saw he was getting nowhere and sat down, crossing his arms and glaring at the local magistrate, who tried to hide a slight smile and failed.
    “As I was saying, my lord, before I was so rudely interrupted, the accused has a host of crimes for which he is charged, and since he has some friends and associates in town, I felt the need to recuse myself and call for a justiciar to settle the matter considering the penalty for most of the charges would be death.”
    “Yes, I see why my services are needed.” Corwin nodded. “What arrangements have you made for the accused?”
    “He is under arrest at the Peak Inn. I have ten soldiers guarding him. Two at his door and eight posted in pairs at each corner of the building. He is well protected.” The magistrate could hardly conceal his glee.
    “Very well, let the record show that the accused is facing high crimes against the state as well as the people of Moartown and that he shall stand trial tomorrow at noon. We will adjourn for the evening.”
    The hall was immediately plunged into a cacophony of discussion as everyone started to talk at once. Lucius glared at the magistrate and left, disgust obvious in his posture, and he was followed by Diamedes, who met him outside in the cooler night air.
    “One moment please, if you don’t mind, Master Ewellyn.” Diamedes ran up to the man who turned to face him.
    “Who are you?” he asked abruptly.
    “I am Diamedes, a historian of sorts, and I wish to ask