With his journey more than half complete, Andy the Auroch sees a chance to rest his weary hoofs when his wagon reaches Everlong Faire. Their he hopes to renew his burgeoning relationship with with Angie the Auroch. However, since Angie has not yet arrived, which caused Andy to spend most of his time eating and sleeping, let us focus on the other members of our intrepid threesome, Manny and Maude. Particularly since a colleague from the past threatens to tear them team apart.

Who's the Fairest
by Arcie Emm

Prologue

The scene belonged in a fairy tale. A beautiful summer day, the sun shining upon a meadow in which wolf pups boisterously chased one another about, yipping their joy at the moment. For a time they owned the world to themselves, but then, from a thicket of trees, a jay’s flight distracted them.

Let us leave them to their play, instead we will approach that thicket. For why else would it exist, if not to be mysterious?

Ah-hah, it hides a small hill, with an opening that surely leads to the den from which those adorable cubs came. Shall we venture inside, making life difficult for the author whose laziness shouts for him to quit? Of course we shall.

Oh-ho, is that a fire I hear? Is that candle light I see? Not something expected inside a wolf’s den, but this is not a normal den. Instead it has walls paneled in lustrous walnut and chairs so soft, so inviting, covered in ox blood coloured leather. Yet our eyes are drawn to those sitting in the chairs, specifically their hair. Extravagant enough to make one wonder if they were the high priests of the Hair Cult for Men. Two of them, one older and one younger with frames of wiry strength shaved the sides of their heads, but allowed the rest to grow long, before twining it into long braids. Unlike the others, the third man, burly and grizzled, his leather vest hiding few of his scars from past battles, let his bronzed mane flow free.

He yelled, “Liz! Liz, where’s that information?”

“Quit shouting, Wayne!”

This answer preceded the arrival of a woman with hair of a winter tigress, that is if a winter tigress had hair instead of fur and if that fur flowed like a river in the midst of winter thaw. Yes, dear reader, I too am momentarily struck by awe at the sight of her. Awe that someone so majestically proportioned remained standing.

Taking the leather bag from her, the burly man asked, “Is there a scry of him?”

“Inside.”

With the rolled up parchment in hand, he tossed the bag to the older man and walked to the one uncovered wall, its stone recently cleaned. The parchment unrolled, he used pieces of sap to stick it on the wall. An image of a dark haired man, an evil sneer on his face, almost as if the scry existed with the sole intention to say, ‘this is a bad guy.'

“Okay, Tongueblood, tell me about him.” Wayne said, as he reached for a piece of chalk.

“Simon Unkler! Stands 2 Yardovian metres tall and weighs in at 16 stones.”

“Big son-of-a-mother. He’ll be dangerous, so everybody be extra careful. What’s the charge?”

“He skipped out on his upcoming wedding to Duchess Cindi in Angharee.”

“So add desperate to his faults. Fortunately, I just heard from a little bird that spotted him entering a beer tent at Everlong Faire over at Fairetown. We’ve been asked by Knobby Green to capture him and that’s what we’re going to do. So everybody gear up.”

While the woman checked her make-up and changed into higher heeled boots, the three men pulled on chain-mail tunics and chose a cudgel. Done, they gathered in a circle, held hands, and bowed their heads, while their leader said, “Aeola grant us your blessings as you look down upon us during this day and night. Okay, Let’s go.”

At these words, the three men blurred. In their place stood 3 massive, fur covered beasts, each with the head of a wolf, but standing upon two legs.

“Big alpha’s on the prowl.” Said the woman, just before she underwent her own transformation, turning into a smaller, all white version of the others.

In unison, they dropped to all fours. Not long afterwards the den stood empty.

 
In Fairetown, the four asked around for Simon, showing people their scry. Their questioning led them, late in the evening, to the second floor of the Dancing Turtle inn, where Wolf questioned an innkeeper thrilled to help Wolf the Bounty Picker Upper.

“You’re sure this is Simon’s room?” Wolf asked.

“He uses a different name, Mr. Wolf, but he sure do match the scry you showed me. He appeared a couple days ago and replaced a right pretty thing.”

“And he’s in there now?”

“Yeppers, saw him return with my own three eyes.”

“Very well, do you have a spare key?”

“Oh, we don’t use keys, Mr. Wolf.”

“Do you give me permission to enter the room?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Makes it legal for me to enter and look.”

“Wow, can I watch? I mean sure thing, Mr. Wolf Sir.”

“You can watch, but stand back and don’t get in the way. Ready, Treehand? Ready, Tongueblood?”

At their matched nods, he balled his hand into a fist and pounded on the door. “Simon Unkler, I know you’re in there.”

In answer, they heard a startled shout. “Whaa...”

All the cue Wolf needed, he said, “Get him.”

With this, the other two men burst through the door, cudgels in hand. There they found their target, groggily waking from a sleep, clad only in his drawers. Without hesitation, they yanked him off the bed, threw him to the ground, and kneeled above him with their weapons held threateningly over head.

This ended the man’s struggles, instead he yelled, “Don’t mace me! Don’t mace me!”

At this surrender, they each grabbed an arm and lifted him to his feet. While they tied his wrists together, Wolf said, “You didn’t think you could escape me, did you Simon?”

“Who are you? Wait, I’m not Simon. I’m...”

“You’re telling me this isn’t you, Motherpupper?” Wolf asked, the scry thrust in front of his prisoner.

“See it’s like this.”

He did not get any further before an older woman, dressed in a nightgown, entered the room and querulously asked, “What’s going on here?”

Liz moved towards her and said, “None of your business.”

“But he’s my employee.”

“Madam, you’re going to have to leave, you’re interfering with the sanctioned bond collection of Simon Unkler and I’m not going to let you take food away from my children.”

“Your children? What are you talking about?”

“Listen, bi...”

“No, you listen to me, that is not Simon Unkler. That is my bodyguard, Manny kin Nichino.”

Sergeant Unkler

Once again Manny found himself cast adrift by his employer. Andy’s reigns in hand, he walked away from the Sisterhood of Seamstrist’s tent within the Everlong Faire grounds, Maude’s locale for the next three weeks while its regular proprietress partook in the annual Extreme Cheese Wheel Rollathon from Madron to Lisbid. With everything unloaded, a task simplified by the witch’s walking trunks, he soon dispatched the wagon and auroch, the first to the guarded area at the Faire’s edge and the other into the hands of the Faire’s herdsmen.

Now, with his employer's gentle suggestion that he entertain himself in mind, Manny wandered the faire, seeing much of interest, but with a nearly empty purse he withstood temptation. Not that he planned to stop, for amongst the many strange sights and beings at the Faire, he stood out amongst the strangest. Even with his robe, he drew stares, be they surprise, lust, or envy. True, trapped as a bigxie for weeks, Manny found himself less bothered than in the past by the attention, but it still owned the power of frustration. He kept moving, ignoring both vendors who hawk their wares and side stepping those of the male species overly impressed with themselves.

Not long after avoiding an entire pack of such creatures, he noticed a cloaked man skulk into a tent. The way the man’s eyes darted about, lingering on nothing, even the bigxie in the street, initially drew Manny’s attention. But what held it were the familiar mannerisms. The way the man walked, even his shape. Manny felt sure he saw Sergeant Unkler, who once served as quartermaster in the Beige Baron’s regiment. And though never bosom companions, the man often chose Manny's squad to protect him during his ventures. Almost he turned into the drinking tent, but kept walking. Yet at the end the lane, he returned the way he came, peeking inside to see the sergeant by himself at the back. Manny continued onward, but the hint of the idea took hold and tossed aside potential embarrassments at the possibility to regain some normalcy in his life. Therefore, midway through his fourth trip along the lane, he entered the tent and approached the watching man. A smile came across the sergeant’s face, one Manny suspected explained the man's success with woman that the rest of the regiment envied.

“I’m was not planning on buying anything, but you may be able to change my mind, Gorgeous.”

“Sergeant Unkler, I’m Manny kin Nichino. From the regiment.”

For years, Sergeant Unkler kept the regiment well fed and equipped, because he did not easily surprise. This situation proved no different, he allowed an appreciative eye to run over Manny's form, barely hidden by the fitted robe, before he said, “I think I would have known if someone looking like you was in the regiment. However, Corporal Nichino was a rather large, foreboding fellow.”

Manny searched his mind for a memory to convince Unkler. “Honest, Sergeant, it’s me. Remember the campaign between the Counts of Dalodone and Tekmag. How when one of our patrol’s stumbled upon the Countess of Dalodone, the Baron ransomed her off without telling the Tekmageans. Well my squad guarded her tent the night before the hand over and I know you received a reward that didn’t fit within the regiment’s coffers.”

“Ahh, Nichino, I knew I could rely on your silence, you always were the solid sort. How in the name of all that is holy did you find yourself so...ummm...spectacular.”

Manny waved off an approaching barmaid and took a seat across from the man. In a soft voice, the former corporal explained his adventures in the Land Beyond. Finished, he waited for the other to express his disbelief.

“So, I’m guessing you’re hoping to borrow my image?”

“Well, I...”

“I don’t know, Corporal. How would it look if you got in trouble while looking like me?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do anything like that, Sergeant.”

Unkler nodded his head. “No, you’re not the type.”

 
Locked into the main holding pen of Fairetown’s gaol, with the pick pockets, drunks, and rowdies common inside Everlong Faire, Manny alternated between glaring at the riff raff and cursing himself for an idiot. Why let Unkler disarm him with the comment about causing trouble? Everybody, including the two men, knew Manny may not be the type to do so, but the same could not be said for the sergeant. And why did no alarm trigger when the man met him at Maude’s tent without asking for anything in return?

The sergeant was an asshole. Everybody in the regiment knew that, but accepted it because he was their asshole. But the regiment no longer existed and Manny should have remembered the Baron controlled his problem children through the constant threat of Lieutenant Finkle, who relished an earned reputation as a vicious killer.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Manny said.

“Shut up, git.” The nearest man, a scrawny thief, snarled.

Despite being a softy, Manny knew you needed to be hard in hard places; therefore, he only stared, until the man looked away. For though Unkler could not cast as foreboding figure as Manny’s true form, he could cow most scrawny thieves.

What sucked the most, he last couple days were pure joy. Though grown used to life as a bigxie, as a female, even enjoyed it a time or two, it never felt right. Returned to malehood, he felt more himself, so much so that a smile never left his face, at least until the bounty hunters burst through his door. A smile he tried upon more than a few pretty maidens, while he tried to build enough confidence to see where their answering smiles may lead. Now he wouldn’t get the chance.

Once more Manny wondered about Sergeant Unkler’s crime. He guessed at a minor offense, otherwise they would not place him in the common cell. Besides he need not worry, surely he could convince the authorities they held the wrong man. Maude told him that everybody knew about shape changing in the Land Beyond.

Maude.

Her actions of the prior night, her ferociousness when confronting the pack of bounty hunters, made him smile. Only her presence stopped them from bundling him out of Fairetown before anybody knew. Instead she forced them to hand him over to the town’s authorities. Furthermore, she also convinced them to let him dress, which after spending time in the cold pen further increased his gratitude.

Gaolty?

While wondering if he would ever fall asleep, three gaol keepers appeared at the gate to the holding pen, where one shouted. “Simon Unkler! Simon Unkler to the gate.”

Looking out a barred window to see it still dark, he hoped their early arrival meant they planned to set him free. But that did not explain why they called him by the sergeant's name. Realizing an answer waited, he moved toward the gate. The gaol keeper in charge, a bald headed man larger than Manny’s true self, opened the door, while the second shackled Manny. The three then escorted him into a long hall, past numerous doors, until they came to a stop.

The bald gaol keeper said, “Inside.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Hesitantly, he stepped into the small room, where Maude waited. “Maude, you’re here!”

“Did you doubt me, Manny?” She asked.

For the first time since the ordeal had begun, Manny smiled. “Actually, I never did. Thank you.”

She offered a smile in return. “Of course. But we have little time for pleasantries, let me introduce you to your lawyer, Barrister Ashley Ashtonson.”

Manny only stared, not with the glower offered the thief in the pen, but with the wonder so often experienced since he crossed the Bridge of Happening. For there stood, on short, stumpy, root like legs, a man tree, with leaves for hair above a face etched into the trunk.

“You’re a lawyer?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” The ent asked, his voice a deep, melodious timbre. “There is no reason an ashent cannot be a lawyer, justice doesn’t only matter to oakents.”

As his voice rose, Manny hurried to apologize. “No, no, I’m sorry. It isn’t because you’re an, ashent was it? I know nothing about, umm, ashents.”

“Ahh, forgive me. Aren’t I the one, jumping to conclusions. So you’re not like my family, believing nobody likes a wise ash?”

“What’s wrong with a wise ash?”

“Exactly. That’s what I asked my parents when they tried to void my scholarship to law school. They don’t understand I have a calling, instead they want me to leave my practise and join the family’s interpretive dance troupe.”

“Umm, well I’m happy to have your help. What type of pickle Sergeant Unkler has gotten me into?

“Yes, yes, let us focus upon the now. It, not the past, is what is important. Fortunately it is only a contract issue, instead of a crime. Unfortunately, the other party in the contract is quite powerful, the Duchess of Were.”

“Where?”

“Exactly.”

“No, Duchess of where?”

Before this could get out of hand, Maude interrupted and said, “Manny, not where, but were as in were-wolves, were-ponies, and such.”

“Ahh, weres are real? I guess this is the Land Beyond. So how did he rip her off?”

“Apparently your Sergeant Unkler was to marry the Duchess, but he disappeared before the wedding. Her people hope to have him, well now you, extradited back to Angharee, the Ducal Seat.”

Manny said, “That doesn’t sound right, the sergeant often spoke about finding some rich woman to look after him.”

“He probably learned the Duchess is a were-spider, like her mother. The Grove knows there are enough ghastly rumours about her father’s demise, nearly nine months before she was born.”

Manny’s eyes widened. “They’re going to make me marry a spider! Uh-buh-uh-whu...”

“Not if I can help it, I see no reason why we cannot prove you are yourself, not Simon Unkler. Though it would be best not to look like him.”

As eager as he turned into Unkler, Manny felt even more eager to rid himself of the man’s form. Therefore, he hurried to stand in front of the mirror. He said, “Maybe Liriel, Maude? She’s so innocent looking.”

“Not a good idea, Manny. It was in Fairetown she found out about her cheating boyfriend. Dealing with the fallout is what brought Ashley and myself together the first time.”

The ashent would have nodded his head at this, except for the whole no neck thing, instead he said, “I agree, Liriel is not a good choice. She left a rather black mark behind when she vanished from town. Maude mentioned you are usually what she called a bigxie, that is best.”

Flicking through the different images, Maude found the pink-armoured bigxie image. Almost normal now, the change came quickly, marked only by the clang of metal as the shackles slipped from suddenly thinner wrists and fell to the floor.

“Oh, we can’t have that. Don’t want to look like you are trying to escape.” At these words, Ashley gracefully moved to the door and opened it to the distrustful stare of the large gaol keeper and he asked. “Excuse me, your shackles fell off, can you come put them back on.”

Their rush inside, momentary bottle necked at the door, come to a sudden stop when the three men spotted the transformed prisoner. Gaping and drooling ensued before the leader’s wits returned. “Hey, what’s going on here? Where’s the prisoner? And who’s she?”

“They’re one and the same, officer. My client had been transformed and we felt it best to return her to her normal appearance before court.”

“Umm, but, umm, okay. Let’s see about those shackles.” The large gaol keeper said, as he knelt to pick them up, stopped for a moment to admire Manny from the new angle, he reluctantly rose to place the shackles around the prisoner’s outstretched arms.

CLANG!!

“Damnit, they don’t fit. We’ll need to get another pair.”

“I won’t try to escape.”

Now Manny’s voice held none of the vamp, which humbled Sir Steve, he just spoke in that sultry voice Maude gave him early in their journey. Yet the gaol keepers were not tempered in the same fire of righteousness as the paladin, which meant one swayed, another’s knees buckled, and the bald one gulped nervously.

“Uhmm, okay.”

Ashley saved them from further thought, when he said, “Maybe we should head to the courtroom, officers.”

“Alrighty then.”

“So early?” Manny asked, “It’s not yet morning.”

Ashley answered, “We, in Fairetown, pride ourselves on our justice system. All those arrested during the night have the right to see a judge before the morning damp is burned away.”

The seven of them - three guards, a seamstress, her mirror, the ashent lawyer, and the bigxie prisoner - left the room and walked down the hallway into a large waiting room, which held a number of guards and prisoners, all of whom became distracted by their admiration for the colour pink. While they waited, Ashley asked the gaol keeper. “Who’s sitting?”

“Judge Rock.”

Smiling at the news, Ashley led them to the side where they waited in silence. Finally the gaol keepers, at some unseen signal, led them into a small courtroom, similar to most of its kind, with two desks at the front. Behind the lower stood a plump, dark skinned man, while behind the higher and larger desk sat a tall, thin man, idly shuffling a deck of cards.

A merry twinkle in his eyes, the think man’s gaze as they darted from face to face. Stopping on Manny, he grinned mischievously and asked, “What do we have, Zac?”

The man at the lower desk read from a sheet of parchment. “It is a 223-B, Your Honour.”

“Flying while under the influence?”

“No, Your Honour, it is an extradition request from the Duchy of Were for one Simon Unkler.”

“For what dastardly deed is Simon Unkler wanted?”

“A breech of contract.”

“And where is he?” The judge asked.

“I would ask the same.”

Everybody turned to see an impeccably dressed middle-aged man, his salt and pepper hair coiffed to perfection, enter through the main door. Strolling forward, he said, “Your Honour, allow me to introduce myself. I am Phillip del Fia, Court Advocate to the Duchess of Were. When we learned her betrothed had been found, she dispatched me to see to his speedy return. However, I do not see him?”

Ashley said, “If I may, Your Honour?”

“Ahh, Barrister Ashtonson, can you clear up this mystery?”

“Yes, Your Honour. You see it is a matter of mistaken identity.” Ashley said. “My client, Manny kin Nichino, was transformed to appear as this Unkler. While transformed, the bounty picker upper Wolf took her into custody.”

del Fia said, “That seems rather convenient.”

Judge Stone agreed. “Yes it does, can you prove what you say?”

“We can, Your Honour. Seamstrist Maude Zbornak, who is my client’s employer, performed the transformation with her mirror, which registered all changes. The truth can be confirmed easily enough.”

“Zac?”

“On it, Your Honour.” The clerk said, rummaging around in his desk to find a large scroll wrapped mostly around the bottom of its two wooden rollers. Holding it before him, Zac chanted, “Manny, Manny, bo banny, Banana fana fo fanny, Fe fi mo anny, Manny!”

At these words the scroll, well, scrolled from the thick to thin roll, stopping when each neared the same thickness. Now scrolling it manually Zac began said, “Anderson ... Duckles ... Jornigen ... ahh, here it is, kin Nichino. Well there’s a recognizable name and that too. Your Honour, it is as Barrister Ashtonson said, Manny kin Nichino was transformed into Simon Unkler three afternoons ago.”

“Very well, I guess it’s case dis...”

The duchess’s advocate interrupted both the judge’s words and swinging gavel, to say, “Excuse me, Your Honour, I would bring to your attention the case of Ticolodin vs Principality of Desolence.”

“Eh?”

“In it, the Court of Desolense, determined in willingly taking upon the form of another, the transformed may also takes upon the debts of the form.”

“I see.”

“Your Honour, the Court of Desolense holds no jurisdiction within Fairetown.” Ashley stated, in protest.

“True, but it’s rulings are highly respected, it may be a good idea to bump it up to a higher court.”

“The courts of Angharee are at your disposal, Your Honour.” del Fia volunteered.

“And my client would get a fair trial from twelve Angharee men?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you for your offer, Advocate del Fia, but Fairetown can manage on its own. What’s available, Zacadamian?”

“There’s an opening in five days, shall I book it?”

“Counselors?” Judge Stone questioned. Upon receiving two affirmatives, he asked, “Anything else?”

“I expect my client will be free until that time, Your Honour?”

“I would hope not, Your Honour. We know she is friends with a known runner. Plus she is obvious a flight risk.”

A boyish grin appeared on the judge’s face as he said, “I understand your concern, Advocate del Fia. However, Miss Nichino has currently done nothing for which I can detain her.”

“Your Honour...”

Ashley interrupted his opponent’s protests, to say, “Your Honour, my client will give her oath that she will not flee before her trail.”

Concerned less by the frequent uses of hers, shes, and misses than the possibility of returning to the gaol, Manny eagerly nodded agreement.

Distracted by the resulting bounce and sway of ... umm ... umm ... yeah, that’s it ... umm ... of long blond hair, Judge Rock took a moment to say, “That would work. Do you so swear, Miss Nichino?”

“I swear, Your Honour.”

Noticing the dazzled manner in which the judge gazed upon Manny, Phillip del Fia plotted the next move in his legal dance. Although nary a twirled mustache provided a hint to his thoughts.

Monitor

The outcome in Judge Rock’s courtroom raised some questions in Ashley's mind, which led the barrister to scurry further into the courts to research the trial del Fia raised as precedence. Meanwhile, Maude guided her guard back to their inn, leaving him with orders to get some sleep and to not leave his room. Rankled by the orders, he changed out of his armour into his nightgown, lay upon the bed, and thought about the trouble into which he continued to find himself. Fortunately skills developed as a soldier allowed him to bury his worries beneath slumber.

Slumber broken once more by the sound of a knock on the door. Shocked awake, Manny leapt into the air, his wings blurring to hold him aloft. This time the door did not burst open. Flitting to the door, he settled upon the floor, and asked, “Who is it?”

“Auxiliary Gaol Keeper Ruck Ankiel.”

“What do you want? I thought I was free to go?”

“I’m not here to arrest you, I’m your monitor.”

“What?”

“Your monitor. The court assigned me to watch over you.”

Lack of sleep, anger at Unkler’s schemes, annoyance with his entire girlification in the Land Beyond combined in a frustration that made Manny yank open the door and snarl, “I said I wouldn’t run.”

But he saw nobody.

“Down here, Toots.”

Few know of the Island of Tontimtona, in the Sea of Pokato, but those who do, know it has little to recommend it as a place for a ship to stop. Sure, it could serve as the setting for Paradise, but so could the hundreds of other islands that surrounded it. However, Tontimtona did have the Hole of Meleguhle, so named by the people of the island in honour of the great sea tortoises that swam out of the sea and marched there to die.

After many centuries, this left the hole filled with a rich dirt, flecked with broken-up tortoiseshell. Dirt the witch doctors of the island used for everything from poultices to the lustrous dyes that offered the one reason for traders to stop. Dyes produced by the most experienced witch doctors, requiring most of a life’s learning before one would even be allowed to harvest from the hole, never mind perform the secret ritual to create the dye. A ritual that brought together all skills learned after children proved their worth to walk the path of the witch doctor. Proof that required a child to pass the Test of the Wawkini, where they crafted the Wawkini paste used by the people’s warriors to cover themselves before night raids upon neighbouring islands. A paste they believed made them invisible to all but the Moon Goddess, Alice, and which mostly consisted of the droppings of seagulls.

Now if you’ve ever spent time in the study of seagull droppings, and really who hasn’t, you know that like snowflakes, no two are the same. Nor do two sets of droppings react consistently with the other ingredients in Wawkini paste; palm fronds, ground up barracuda, silt from the bottom of the sea, and saffron. Which explained why only those whose spirits were rich in chlorimidians (amazingly enough, usually children of witch doctor families) could pass the Test of the Wawkini and begin the long years of study to obtain their witch doctorate. Regardless of success or failure, the paste invariably ended up a putrid grey green colour.

Manny did not count amongst those who knew about the Island of Tontimtona, nor even the Sea of Pokato, so he knew nothing about Wawkini Paste. But if he did, he surely would think the rough hide of the giant lizard, which waited in the hallway, matched the colours of that paste. However, unaware of the comparison, he just thought the putrid grey green colour, marked with tens of scars, provided only one reasons to make the beast horrifying. For it stood, almost as high as his knees, on four viscously clawed feet, its tail, longer than its body, drooping through the railing of the upper floor, while hundreds, maybe thousands, of serrated teeth shared a mouth with blood tinged drool. Barely did Manny stop himself from shrieking and leaping into the air, the only thing that stopped him was curiosity about the an eye-patch the lizard wore over its right eye. For it showed the same patch found on the chests of the gaol keepers, a sad jester looking out through four bars.

Looking at Manny, the lizard scooched forward and rose upright upon its hind legs. Ignoring the resulting, unstoppable bigxie shriek and leap, Ruck’s dexterous claws worked the buckles of a pouch strapped to his torso and removed a piece of parchment. This he held towards Manny and said, “A note of explanation from your barrister.”

Nervously reaching out, fearing the loss of a hand, Manny took the offering, unfolding it to read:

Dear Manny,

After you left, del Fia arranged an appearance before Judge Wilco Wilcoxovich, with whom he went to law school. This resulted in an arrangement for you to be monitored. I have filed a protest, but for now you will need to accept Ankiel`s presence.

Sincerely,
Ashley Ashtonson, BL

“I’m not going anywhere, Maude told me to wait in my room.”

“That’s great, still I’m to stick to you like a worm to the ground. Well not figuratively, I’m not covered in the tasty slime that coats a worm.”

About then Manny realized he stood in the doorway wearing nothing more than his nightgown, the one gifted to him by Nikki, the one which Maude steadfastly refused to replace, a naughty smile appearing on her face whenever he asked. With his recent luck, he felt surprised that hall remained empty of everyone but Ruck; however, not wishing to further tempt fate, he said, “Umm...okay. I guess you may as well come in.”

Once Ruck entered, Manny closed the door. Hands upon hips, he looked down at the lizard, who in turn looked up at him, and asked, “So how does this work?”

Ruck answered, “Well you do whatever you usually do, while I watch to ensure what you usually do does not involve leaving Fairetown.”

“And if I do try to leave.”

“Well I run fast and have lots of teeth, you can find out what that means if you want. No skin off my snout.”

“I can fly.”

“So I see, which is why they picked me to be your monitor, see I’m a were-dragon.”

“A what?”

“Were-dragon.”

“But...”

“Why would I stay a lizard, if I could be a glorious dragon? You wouldn’t ask if you knew the size of my appetite when I’m in dragon form, couldn’t afford to keep myself fed on a civil servant’s wage without the backing of mommy or daddy’s hoard.”

“I was going to say, doesn’t there need to be a full moon for you to turn into a dragon.”

“With you there’ll always be a full moon overhead, true maybe hidden by a pink silken cloud, but its there none-the-less.”

It took a moment before Manny figured it out. When he did, he tried to pull the nearly transparent skirts of his nightgown lower, blushed a pink to match that silken cloud, and shouted. “Hey!”

“Don’t worry, Toots, you’re not my type. Though hearing the guys talk about you in the wardroom today, I may be alone in that.”

“My name’s Manny.”

“Sure thing, Toots.”

“Don’t call...ahh, never mind. So about the full moon.”

“During the day the moon looks forward to make sure she doesn’t run into a star while we chase her through the heavens. But she’s still there, we just can’t see her. Then during the night she looks back to ensure we still follow, offering a stare, a wink, or a glower. Regardless, the moon is always full, so I can go were whenever, if ever, you attempt to escape.”

“You’re going to be bored, I can’t leave the inn.”

”I’m a lizard, we live to be bored. Now if there’s no further questions, why don’t you get back to what you were doing, sleep apparently, and I will join you. Whoops, that didn’t come out quite right, you sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep in front of the door, since the window’s too small for you to squeeze through.”

Sleep did offer an escape from life’s insanity, so Manny climbed once more under his blanket, while Ruck put action to words and lay in front of the door. Both had nearly succumbed when another worry popped into Manny’s mind.

“Hey!”

“Now what?”

“If you’re a were, how do I know you’re not in cahoots with the Duchess of Were to kidnap me like that Wolf guy?”

“She’s only the duchess of weres there in Were, not weres here or not in Were. Besides the weres in Were don’t like beast-weres like me. They think they’re the true weres and their agents are always here and they’re trying to get weres not in Were in trouble with their neighbours. I don’t like Were weres.”

Hearing the conviction in Ruck’s words, Manny said, “That makes sense.”

Foci Group

Late afternoon found Manny awake, Ruck proving his contention the bigxie was not his type when he did little more than temporarily open his single eye while his charge changed into pink armour. However, once dressed Manny mentioned his hunger. Immediately Ruck awoke, willing to head down to the common area for a meal. They bonded while demanding the innkeeper, whom Manny had not forgiven for the bounty hunters raid, feed the lizard raw meet. The man’s sullen acceptance almost made up for watching Ruck eat.

Their meal finished, the two wondered what to do with themselves until a young scruffian entered the inn, ducked under the outstretched hands of the innkeeper, and dashed to their table, where he asked, “Are you Manny kin Nichino?”

“No, I’m Ruck Ankiel.”

“Not you, silly, the pretty lady with wings. Hey, you’re a talkin’ lizard.”

Knowing boys would find a talking lizard more interesting than a pretty lady with wings, Manny said, “I’m Manny, why are you looking for me?”

Not taking his eyes off Ruck, the boy said, “The witch sent me.”

“Maude?”

“I don’t know her name, but she’s the one in the Sisterhood’s tent. She said I was to get you to come visit and to bring her something to eat.”

“Now?”

The boy turned his gaze to Manny to answer, “Yep and she said you would give me a fairething when I delivered the message.”

“An entire fairething, that is generous of her. Maybe we should check with her first.”

“Did I say a fairething, I meant a quarter-fairething.”

Deeming that reasonable, Manny took a coin from his purse and tossed it to the boy. Who, in turn, looked back at Ruck, just in time to see the lizard’s tongue whip out to catch a fly. Wide-eyed the boy stared until Ruck winked at him, which caused the boy to laugh before he dashed out the same way in which he arrived.

Manny asked, “Can I go to Maude’s tent?”

“Yep, we can go anywhere within the boundaries of Fairetown.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

 
With Maude's lunch in hand, the two began the trek to the faire-grounds. And if a full sized pixie in a snow white robe did not already draw the eye, adding a giant lizard did nothing to minimize the stares. Not that Manny noticed, lost in his thoughts, nor did Ruck care. At the Sister of Seamstrist’s tent, they watched a bored Maude eat lunch while she bemoaned the lack of customers. While Manny commiserated with his employer, two ents entered the tent. Ashley carried a basket, while for some reason the other seemed female. Not because she wore a dress, both ents were as bare barked as the day they sprouted, but because of her long, lush, red foliage of maple leaves, pruned just so.

His guess proved correct with Ashley's introductions. “Maybelline this is our client Manny kin Nichino. Manny this is my particular friend, Maybelline L’Ouest, who I retain as image consultant for my clients.”

“Image consultant?” Manny asked.

“Exactly, while Ashley does a formidable job presenting the legalities of his clients’s cases, he needs my assistance to ensure they make a good first impression with the jury. For example, you need to portray the innocent, not the temptress.”

“I am innocent.” Manny said.

“Yes, that is all well and good, but your opinion hardly matters in a trial, does it? But first, let me speak to Maude for a moment.”

While the maplent and Seamstrist talked, Manny turned towards his barrister and again asked, “Image consultant?”

“She’s very good. She served as the head costumer of the Non-Royal Ballet Academy of Beechswutz and now freelances for the musical troupes and acting companies based in Fairetown. That’s when she not offering this special skill to the community’s defenders. Besides I like when she’s around.”

An owner of more than a few past infatuations, Manny said nothing, instead he watched as Maybelline removed small crystal pyramids from the basket. Seeing Maude’s excitement, Manny asked his barrister what they were doing.

“Maybelline captured the essence of many of Fairetown citizens into each crystal foci. When grouped together, she can divine how a defendant should present themselves to a jury of similar citizens.”

“So this foci group will make the jury realize I’m innocent?”

“Not quite, Manny, the courts do not tolerate such magic. Better to say it seeks to ensure no juror takes an immediate dislike towards you.”

As the two talked, the maplent placed the fist sized foci in a circle upon the tent’s floor. Then she took one last large, crystal pyramid from the basket and tossed it in the air. But it did not fall, instead it hovered, just below the tent’s peak, in the middle of the circle.

“Manny could you stand in the middle of the circle?” Maybelline asked.

With a smile of reassurance from Maude, Manny moved forward, his wings momentarily blurring as he hopped over the circle of pyramids. He watched as Maybelline stretched her limbs to the side and said, “Lights! Come on! Action!”

Manny found himself inside a strange rainbow. Each of the nearly thirty pyramids shot a beam of coloured light, upwards in a pyramid above his head. In their current incarnation a third of the beams showed red, a third blue, and a third green, which coalesced into a dark grey, almost black, shadow that grasped him in its embrace. From outside this veil came Ruck’s voice.

“That better not be a teleport device.”

“Eeek, a giant lizard!”

“Worry not, Maybelline.” Ashley said. “That’s Ruck Ankiel, he’s Manny’s court appointed monitor.”

“Once more, or this tent is going full dragon, is that a teleport device?”

“No, Lizter Ankiel, it’s an Attitudinal Divination Devise. And right now it has divined a third of the potential jurors, those who shine red, will look unkindly upon Miss kin Nichino. If possible we seek to turn the reds and blues to green, but at a minimum want all reds to turn blue.”

Maude said. “Like I mentioned earlier, I believe Manny could pull off sweet and adorable.”

Maybelline agreed. “Probably?”

“Definitely.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Shush, Manny, you always carp about new clothes.”

“I liked the suit you gave me at the cab...urk.”

Jerked into the air by Maude’s magic, she cut short his protest before. Then his armour disappeared into the holding chest, replaced with a blank like those worn when he modeled for the pixie’s dresses. With each of these changes, some of the beams of light would changed colour, bathing him in different shades. Yet this proved only the beginning. For when Maude made changes, quick as her thoughts or the image consultant’s word, kaleidoscopic world also changed. First, it distracted him from the ribbons and lace that soon adorned the dress. Then, it distracted him from reality, testing his innate bigxie sense of place, necessary for flying. And even that sense could not combat the spots that appeared in his vision, growing like bubbles in lava until they burst, new ones forming in their wake.

Lost in colours, it took a moment to realize he stood upon the ground. He asked, “What did you do to me?”

From his right, Maybelline answered, “Step through and see in the looking glass.”

“I can’t see.”

At this rather plaintive statement Manny felt Maude reach out to take his hand and guide him forward a number of steps. He stood, rubbing his eyes, creating more own bubbles, which burst into clarity.

Only his shoes, of pixie manufacture, stiletto heeled and covered in shiny black leather with a buckled strap across his foot, would not be worn by the young daughter of a wealthy family. But above those shoes, his white stockings rose above his knees to disappear beneath the lace trim of multiple underskirts. In turn, all but the trim of the underskirt was hidden beneath the two ruffles of his blue dress, lace and ribbon at the waist, neck and capped sleeves. Manny’s immersion in the ADD even left him with a blue ribbon tied in now wavy hair.

“I look like a little girl.”

“Now I’m no expert on human anatomy, since my school couldn’t afford cadavers for earth sciences. But I’m fairly sure little girls don’t have those big bumps.” Ruck said.

Jury Selection

“I wish I could fly.” Manny said, in an attempt to distract himself from fiddling with the rose trimmed hem of his white pinafore, which Maude added to keep his dress clean while she made him perform inventory on her bottomless button chest.

“If you buy me a cow, I’ll let you fly.”

“A cow, Ruck? Why”

“Simple. If you fly, I have to fly. If I have to fly, I need to become an extremely handsome dragon. If I become a dragon, I will become real hungry and need to eat a cow. And the authorities will only redeem my cow expenses if it results from my foiling an escape. So unless you’re going to attempt escape, you need to buy me a cow to eat before we go flying.”

“I’m not going to escape, specially now we’re at the court house.”

“That’s when many criminals decide the gig is up and make a desperate run for it.”

“I’m not a criminal.”

Manny’s protest held less than total conviction. For how could he be sure of anything while he looked like a goddess, dressed as grammy's special girl, and held a conversation with a giant lizard. Sometimes he expected to wake from a dream at his parents. Or, more likely, in the middle of the Beige Baron's camp, feverish because the cooks used the wrong mushrooms in the stew. However, he did not wake, instead the strangeness increased when he spotted Ashley, in a black robe and with a white wig atop his leaves.

Ruck said, “I’ll leave you with your barrister. Meanwhile, I’m off the wardroom, the guy’s will be so envious I got to see you naked.”

“Hey, I thought I wasn’t your type?”

“You’re not. But I know a couple of horndogs who'll buy me lunch based on what I saw. Good luck and see you later, Toots. Unless of course the judge sends the weres home or you to the Were home. In which case, glad to meet you.”

“Thanks, Ruck.”

Manny hurried towards the ent, who offered a confident smile and said, “Don’t look so worried, Manny. Advocate del Fia is the one with the tough job, not us.”

Heartened somewhat by those words, he still thought del Fia well equipped to handle tough jobs. Yet he did not put his fears into words, instead he put on a brave face as the two entered the courthouse. Following Ashley up a couple of flights of stairs, they walked through a crowd of misfits into the higher court where his case would be heard. Inside, they found a courtroom similar to Judge Rock’s, though the judge's desk seemed carved from stone and the room held seats for spectators, all of which sat empty. The administrating clerk, a viscous looking orc, pointed to the right table, closest to the jury box. They settled into place just as a silent del Fia arrived to sit at the other table.

With both parties arrived, the clerk knocked on a door at the front the room. Through it a second orc appeared, almost a twin of the first, though wearing a gaol-keeper’s uniform. While the clerk returned to the small desk, the bailiff marched between the two parties, towards the room's main entrance. Opening the door, he stuck his head out, and yelled, “Hey, you lot, come in and find a seat.”

While the bailiff returned to stand to the side of the judge's desk, Manny asked Ashley why there was an audience.

"Those aren't spectators, they’re the jury pool."

"Them?" Manny asked, more than a bit worried this group would choose his fate. "Do we need to have a jury?"

"It's okay, Manny, Maybelline's foci were based upon this group. After all, nobody else has time to serve on juries."

Once everyone found a seat, the orcs exchanged a look, the bailiff cleared his throat and said, “Everybody rise. Rise I say. Good. Raise your left hand and your right hand. Now bring them together to welcome the Bringer of Light, the Terror of the Dark, the One, the Only, Justice Bufort T. Bonecrusher.”

The potential jurors clapped, applause that turned feverish when an explosion of flame and smoke appeared at the door from which the bailiff entered. The door through which ducked a figure out of a nightmare. Massive and ugly, skin warted green, with fangs almost to his eyes and below his chin. Yet the ogre wore a robe and wig similar to both lawyers. Basking in the applause, he stared with baleful red eyes at both tables.

(Suddenly, the judge spins in place, coming to a stop with a finger pointed towards del Fia. He begins to sing in a soulful and powerful voice.)

Judge Bonecrusher	What you want, plaintiff, I got
	What's you need? You know I got it.
	All you're askin' is for a little justice in my courtroom.
	Hey plaintiff, in my courtfoom, plaintiff.
Clerk and Bailiff	(begin to sing background, jiving to the left with a clap, then to right.)
Audience	(claps along)
Judge Bonecrusher	J U S T I C E
	Find out what it means to me
	J U S T I C E
	And to all of thee
	(Spin and point toward Manny)
	I ain't gonna do you wrong, defendent
	I ain't gonna do you wrong because I don't wanna
	All you're askin' is for a little justice in my courtroom.
	Hey accused, in my courtfoom, listen.
	J U S T I C E
	Find out what it means to me
	J U S T I C E
	And to all of thee
	All you want, ooh yeah, is a little justice
	Yeah, plaintiff, a little justice
	Oh accused, just some justice
	(twirl once more then moonwalk towards desk)
	(face the appreciative jurors and stunned plaintiff and defendant)
Clerk and Bailiff	(while the judge moves to the desk, alternatively point at each table, first with the right arm and then the left)
	judgment for you
	judgment for you
	judgment for you
	judgment for you
	(drag out the final word, allowing the strength of their voices to drop)
	Ooooooo
Judge Bonecrusher	(sing the last line, raising his arms towards the sky)
	Oooh, you want a little justice.
	(hold the final note)
Audience	(clap louder)
Judge Bonecrusher	(drop arms dramatically and sit behind desk)

Judge Bonecrusher said, “Please be seated. The jury selection of the The Duchy of Were versus Manny kin Nichino will now begin.”

A smattering of applause, accompanied the shuffle of chairs as everybody took his seat. The judge looked at the clerk and pointed his ears towards the seats behind the tables. At this gesture, the orc moved amongst the crowd, handing out small shingles of wood, Justice Bonecrusher said, "I welcome the potential jurors to my court, sixty two citizens here to do Fairetown proud as you perform kind of a sacred duty. However, we understand lesser beings such as yourself are poor, which means you will receive three fairethings for this morning's choosing. If chosen as a juror, you will receive a further three fairethings per each additional session."

This statement set off a number of the potential jurors.

"Pick me!"

"No, pick me!"

"They're not going to kick Freddy-boy out of the pub tonight."

"Woah, man, I have fingers."

"I need money to feed my cats."

"Order! Order in the Court!" The judge roared, pulling a battlehammer from beneath his robe and waving it above his head, eyes turning a deeper red as he prepared for a rampage.

Into the silence engendered, the orc bailiff said, "I'll have a pastrami on rye, hold the pickle."

The judge burst into laughter, pounding his hammer onto his sturdy desk as he turned a darker green. Finally, he gained control of himself and said, "Brenden, you know that joke gets me every time. Now don't tell it again or I will place you in the Pit of Doom."

"Is that the pit with ice cream?"

"Yes it is. Maple pecan ice cream."

"But I'm allergic to pecans." Brenden said, his ruddy skin turning pale.

"Such is the horror of the Pit of Doom. But, anyhoo, back to the jury selection. If you look at the shingle handed to you by my lovely assistant, Jennifer, you will notice a number between one and ninety-seven. If the number matches the one on your shingle, you will come forward and I will ask you three questions. The lawyers for each party can then propose additional questions, in written format. If I agree the matter is relevant and can read the handwriting, I will ask that question. Note to the lawyers, based on what you heard you can issue sixteen challenges for the following reasons: bias, bat shit craziness, and there's just something about him. However, I will not accept a challenge based upon a person's teeth, smell, or mathematical skills. Everybody understand? Is that a nod or a head shake, Dulcet?"

"I have fingers." Said a wild haired man, holding up his hands.

"Yes you do and I'll take that as a nod. Okay let's get this show underway. Brenden and Jennifer, please start."

The former moved to the side of the room where he swept the covering from a set of kettle drums and picked up two mallets, meanwhile the clerk took a bucket from behind her desk. When the bailiff started a steady drum roll, the clerk reached into her bucket, pulled out a shingle, and said, "Number 38, who has number 38, anybody with number 38?"

When no one stood, the judge said, "Check you neighbours’s numbers. Okay, nobody has 38, try again, Jennifer."

"Number 73, who has number 73, anybody with number 73?"

When this call again resulted in silence, del Fia stood to ask, "Your Honour, would it not be better to use sixty two shingles, one for each potential juror?"

"Well, sure, if you're not interested in building tension."

"Ummm, tension."

"Yes tension. It is one of the twenty-two non-foundational pillars upon which I believe the modern court system should be based. Pull another number, Jennifer."

"Number 19, who has number 19, anybody with number 19."

"Me!" A wizened old fellow shouted, springing from his chair and dashing to the front of the room at the glacial pace allowed by a wonky leg and a cane. "I'm all ready for your questions, Your Honour."

"Excellent, what is your favourite colour?"

"Still mauve, Your Honour."

"Is that a new hairstyle, Lester?"

"It is, Your Honour. I were getting a little thin on top, so I thought to myself if I let one side grow long, I could comb it over to keep the sun off the old noggin. Thank you for noticing."

"It's quite handsome. Last, If your wagon left Fairetown at noon, traveling five donkey-miles per hour, how long will it take you to get to the Lumber Mill and return?"

"Can I stop and wet my whistle at Porky's?"

"Of course, both ways if you wish."

"Will Lulu be free, when I stop?"

"On the way out, but not on the way in."

"Eleven hours and forty eight minutes."

"Thank you, Lester. Does either attorney have additional questions they would like me to ask?"

Ashley said, "I'm good with Lester being a juror, Your Honour."

In turn, del Fia looked from the judge to the man. Holding a quill above an ink well, he paused and studied those behind him, he said, "I guess Lester is fine, Your Honour."

The two hours that followed often left Manny ready to bang his head on the table. However, del Fia, soon found his bearings and joined in the craziness with great verve. In fact, even after the jury choice and the judge ordered a recess until afternoon, an excited gleam remained in the advocate's eyes. A gleam accompanied by a large grin as he sauntered from the courtroom.

His eyes glued to the man's back, Manny said, "He's up to something."

Ashley said, "Well he didn't seem to be up to anything this morning. He allowed us to pick the jurors we wanted."

"But why would he allow that?" Manny asked.

The face of the ent proved expressive as he thought about his client's question, with hope in his voice Ashley said, "Maybe, he was thrown off by Judge Bonecrusher's methods. Or did not notice them gawking at you."

However, turning to watch the door close behind advocate, he said, "No, you're definitely right, he's up to something."

The Duchess

With the jurors chosen, the two found themselves at a booth downstairs, each driven to order a pastrami on rye, which they ate while they contemplated what the advocate from Were held up his sleeve. Those thoughts made them gloomy companions until Maude's boisterous arrival provided a welcome distraction. Soon Manny found himself telling her about the morning, now able to recognized the humour of the session.

"But the craziest part occurred when Jennifer, the orc clerk, called number 6. Well these two ladies rushed to the front, the one worried about her cats and a blonde wearing a yellow dress."

"June the Cleaver." Ashley said.

"What?"

"The blonde's name. Don't let her appearance fool you, she spends each winter on her trap-lines, hunting beavers."

"Well neither the cat lady nor this June would admit they held a 9 rather than a 6 and before you knew it they started to fight, yanking each other's hair, and carrying on right fierce. This continued until Brendan waded in and separated them, holding each by her collar. del Fia asked us if we wanted to declare both bat shit crazy? We agreed, nor was that the last time we used that challenge. For awhile, I worried there wouldn't be enough people."

Ashley said, "Fortunately, most of the Fairetown's Dockworker Brotherhood showed up today. It may seem crazy to have dock workers when there are no docks, when in actuality it is a cunning form of lazy."

"So the trials ready to start, this afternoon?" Maude asked. "What’s going to happen?"

"We'll start with opening statements. From there, well it's best not to guess, Justice Bonecrusher runs a rather unorthodox court."

"Any more musical numbers?"

"Not until tomorrow morning."

"I wish I had been there to see it."

Manny said, "Surprised the heck out of me."

"Surprise is another of the Judge's non-foundational concepts." Ashley said. "However, tardiness is not. We should return to the courtroom."

This time the Judge appeared with little fanfare, after the jury of eleven men and one woman took their seats. In fact, he barely seemed awake, obviously the result of a large lunch, some of which clung to his fangs. Pointing a finger towards del Fia, he said, "Let's hear your opening statements, Advocate del Fia."

Slowly the Were representative climbed to his feet and moved to stand before the judge. Offering that worthy a bow, he turned towards the jury, placed his right foot forward and raised his right hand in the classical orator's pose, then in a clear, powerful voice spoke.

"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, let me ask you. What is a man? Is it the flesh, the bones, the blood that makes up his body? It cannot be, for I am sure you will agree with me that each of us is much more. We are defined by the relationships we form, the actions we take, and the agreements we make. The memory of these are permanent, surviving long after decay withers away all but our skeletal husk.

"Which is why I say, when my excellent colleague points out that his client is not Simon Unkler, your first thought should be that it does not matter. For while we accept that in body they are different people, we will prove that in all important matters they are one. We will show that Manny kin Nichino has a long relationship of working with Simon Unkler. Furthermore we will show that Manny kin Nichino sought out Simon Unkler. And then agreed to become Simon Unkler, while not requiring his friend to make a similar change.

"This agreement is what I ask you to hold close while you deliberate upon the matter before you. For just as our friends, our actions, and our words define us. So to do our responsibilities. We are our promises. But can those bind us if we live in a world where a person can change their self to someone else as easy as changing socks? Does this ability not provide the wrongdoer with a perfect escape? For would we not have captured Simon Unkler if Manny kin Nichino did not provide a decoy? Did Manny kin Nichino, in taking Simon's form, not allow the wrongdoer to escape from his responsibilities, from his promises? I say yes that he did. After all, do friends not try to help other?

"And if Manny kin Nichino's actions provided the perfect escape for Simon Unkler from his responsibilities, from his promises, why would friends of other wrongdoers not think they could get away with similar acts? Acts more desperate than the one we consider today. Murder or rape or kidnapping. Do you want people to provide a decoy and then say, but that really isn't me? Of course you do not.

"But that is what will happen if we allow Simon Unkler to escape with the help of Manny kin Nichino. People must realize that responsibilities owned and the promises made are part of assuming another's form.

"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, Manny kin Nichino must be held accountable. I thank you."

For a moment he held his pose, making eye contact with each juror. Once more he offered a bow to the judge and then returned to his seat, not allowing a look of satisfaction to appear on his face or to spare a single glance for the defendant's table. If he did look, he would find Ashley as inscrutable as a tree and Manny terrified by the sense of the advocate's statement.

The smith's son, one-time soldier, current wagon guard and bigxie found himself thinking he should give up and take his medicine. For few would know the Sergeant's ability for wrongdoing better than he and yet his actions allowed the man to escape. Unfortunately, his memory then began a litany of poor decisions beyond taking the sergeant's form. He thought about his decision to cross the bridge into the Land Beyond. His decision to fight on behalf of the pixies. Or to underestimate the ingenuity of d'wharfs based on their appearance and his ability to fly. Combined together, he realized his decision making ability seemed on par with Good King Chuck of Sandlewood Bay, who cut down the nearby forest of sandlewood in order to cover the nearby bay and make the world's largest dance floor. Therefore, he stayed silent, hoping Ashley's statement would hold the same power as del Fia's.

Judge Bonecrusher, who perked up while he listened to the Duchess' advocate, now slumped back into his seat and said, "It'll be a hard act to follow, but it’s your turn Barrister Ashtonson."

Manny admitted the ashent possessed a surprising grace, which he showed in full as he moved to stand where del Fia previously stood. But unlike the Advocate from Were, Ashley did not possess the same strength and confidence in either his mannerisms or voice.

"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, my colleague has raised an interesting question, what is a man? It is a question I have happily debated many a night over a mug of ale. However, my friends and I never found a satisfactory answer. It is too great a question for the matter before us. Instead we should leave it to philosophers. Today we need to focus on a simpler question. That being, why would you force Manny kin Nichino to live Simon Unkler's life?

"Why? Because, for a few days, my client used the man's form? There is no crime in that, as long as the transformation, the parties involved in the transformation, the time of the transformation, and the location of the transformation is registered. And it was, which seems a curious thing to do if the intent behind the change was to create a decoy. For such a registration is immediately available to the public. Here, in Were, in fact everywhere. Further, my client did not hide nor act furtively, my client never even used Unkler's name while in his form. Why? Because Manny kin Nichino never intended to serve as anybody's decoy. Now I admit Simon Unkler' probably intended to use my client as a decoy, but if anybody should be aware that the man is willing to abuse friendship, it should be those from the Duchy of Were.

"But the intent of one individual should never provide reason to punish another. Would we punish a landlord for a tenant's crime? Would you feel it fair to receive punishment for a friend's actions? Of course not. Then why would you hold Manny kin Nichino responsible for Simon Unkler's actions?

"Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, you should not."

It took all of Manny's control not to stand and clap. His doubts about his lawyer faded into the past. Triumphantly he looked towards del Fia, but the advocate did not look concerned. Instead he watched the jury, a smile on his face. This reminded Manny who opinion mattered in this issue and his gaze swung towards the twelve citizens of Fairetown, none of whose eyes watched the ashent, some with jaws seeking their chests.

Once more he followed someone else's, the entire jury's, stare.

And who Manny saw, just inside the courtroom, made him understood the dropping of jaws.

Beautiful! Gorgeous! Mesmerizing! Stunning! Captivating! So many adjectives, yet all diminished the truth. Despite his own recent past, Manny could not stop his eyes from their exploration. Maybe because she invited it, her pose almost demanded worship.

Where to start, if not her hair? Like the blackest night above mountains, it crowned her majesty. Long and lustrous, cascading in a wave down one side of her face and chest to play peek-a-boo with dark eyes that drew one into their depths and red lips that promised untold reward to those who accepted the invitation. It proved a difficult task, for Manny, to pull attention from the woman's perfect features, but the effort brought immediate reward. For it allowed him to focus on her body, like one seen only in dreams or in a mirror. A body not quite scandalously garbed in a red dress crafted by a Seamstrist of Maude's skill, for from graceful neck to red tipped fingers and toes not a wrinkle or seam distracted from the lush form covered by a silken caress.

He knew he should not gawk, too often the recipient of such worship. But something in the Lady in Red's pose, maybe the way she shone so bright, demanded his and everyone else's attention.

With all eyes upon her, the woman stood still a moment longer, smouldering and drawing breath from many in the room. Only then did she move towards the front of the courtroom. Flowing forward, red silk rippling to show the grace of the finest dancers. And though at the end of each step, her delicate sandals did little more than brush the wooden floor, Manny felt each deep in his heart.

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

"Stop that, Brandon!"

The judge's command served as the antidote to the woman's spell. People saw the judge glare at a sheepish bailiff, who tried to halt one final stroke of his mallet upon his drum.

Thwup!

Most allowed themselves only a moment of distraction from the dark haired vision in their mix, but Manny fixated upon the court officers, even more horrible to his newly seared vision. Yet the difference acted as a balm and helped inure him to the new arrival when he again looked. Undaunted at the interrupted spell, confident in her ability to recast it whenever desired, she took two more steps and stopped at the railing to offer a sizzling smile for the jurors.

A smile almost matched by del Fia's own, as he stood. Offering her an extravagant bow, he said, "Your Honour, Lady and Gentlemen of the jury, may I please present my liege, Her Grace Cindi, Duchess of Were."

That Went Badly

As their party left the courthouse, Ruck kept a wary eye upon the bigxie, ready to spring into action at the first hint of flight. A wise precaution, for Manny quivered, in annoyance, as if just finished two sticks of candy. Yet the toes of his high-heeled shoes never quite left the ground, because escape would rid him of the needed audience upon whom he could vent his frustrations at the afternoon's events. At the Sisterhood's tent, he exploded.

"It's not fair," he said, echoing a complaint heard many times before and since. "Your opening statement was perfect, but do you think any of those idiots on the jury heard a word of it? Of course not. Not with the Duchess turning their brains into mush. And you got to know they planned for it to happen. Same with how every time you questioned a witness she turned up the heat and took control of their minds again. The judge shouldn't let her get away with that."

"But Manny, the judge performs song and dance numbers, you can't expect him to be bothered by showmanship. In fact, if I object, I know he will tell me it is one of his twenty-two non-foundational pillars of the modern trial system."

"But...but...it's not fair."

Maude said, "You'll just have to fight fire with fire."

"What? Oh no, that's not going to happen."

"You did it to Sir Steve?"

"He was some holy guy, which means he's always horny." Manny answered. "I didn't even have to try, just needed to put on my armour and show some skin. But that doesn't mean I can compete with the Duchess. She's gorgeous. A couple times her smile settled upon me and I barely stopped myself from telling the judge to let her have me."

Ashley said, "I think Maude is correct. Unfortunately our citizenry are not driven by logic. In fact we planned to appeal to their baser emotions, apparently so did they."

"And don't sell yourself short, Manny." Ruck said. "Amongst the guys who've seen both of you - and many popped into Judge Bonecrusher's courtroom this afternoon - there's a fairly equal divide between those who want the Duchess to take them home and do naughty things to them and those who want to take you home and do naughty things to you. Of course, most would be thrilled with either option."

His cheeks a colour to match the veins in his wings, Manny tried to speak, but nothing came to mind.

Ashley, who would nod agreement if he could, said, "It may be our best strategy to neutralize her impact. And if we want to win, we'll have to do something."

"It's harmless, Manny." Maude said. "And the only thing that needs ever come of it is your freedom."

"I'd feel dirty."

"One of them was cute."

Only one of the jurors fit that description, the lone woman. A waif with long, soft brunette hair and eyes of gigantic brown. Lovely in a different way than the Duchess, seemingly innocent, not conniving. "Maybe her, but why is she amongst the misfits?"

"Her name is Britney," Ruck said. "She's the High Priestess of Melvin, God of Bondage. Definitely in the camp of those who want to do naughty things to you. I tell you, curiosity about your kind once drew me to one of her services and I'll never look at you two-legged types in the same way. As for why she's amongst the misfits, where else would she find her clientele, I mean flock. Plus, they are not a big group, so she has lots of free time. And since the courts pay decent, she often serves as a juror."

No reason to feel surprise, strange now seemed the norm. Yet this bit of news brought the frustration, lurking beneath the thinnest veneer of civility, boiling to the top. "Of course she is, far be it for some woman to whom I am attracted should be normal. No, not in the Land Beyond. Not for goofy ole Manny. Honestly, it almost seems as if my life is the brunt of somebody's joke, some god, or more likely devil, who is amusing himself at my expense. Hey, I should have the world's most powerful sorceress flirt with Manny, maybe almost have her invite him into her bed, but before allowing that to happen, leave him stuck as a female. Oh look, let's have him meet three nymphomaniac pixies, make them as gorgeous as gorgeous can be and oh so ready to reward the heroic Manny when he rescues them from evil. Well that wouldn't be right, better to change him to be their mirror, poison him and require him to flee. A Duchess, wouldn't she be perfect? Wealth, beauty, power, willing to turn Manny into her boy toy, yet only until she devours him. Maybe he could be rescued by the sweet priestess, if only he were willing to let her tie him up in all types of kinky ways. At least I assume she wants to tie me up, Ruck? Of course, no answer is required, I can see it in your eye that she would be in charge. Ha ha ha, isn't that hilarious. Watch me make my manikin dance. Dance puppet, dance. Aren't I clever, aren't I amusing? Well let me just say, no you are not. You suck, whoever you are."

Ashent and lizard looked towards Maude as the rant drew to a close, they found her demeanor unfazed, as she asked, "How many nights since the snake visited, Manny?"

"Fortune above, Maude."

"Snake, what snake?" Ruck asked in alarm. "I hate those slimy, cold blooded bastards. The only good snake is one covered in a white sauce."

"Worry not, Constable Ankiel. It is not a true snake, only a devise Manny uses to relieve some stress. Would it be possible for you to spend tonight on the other side of the door?"

As two questioning glances turned towards him, Manny spent a moment hoping the earth would open and swallow him whole. When denied escape, he changed the conversation back to a more comfortable topic. He asked, "So this whole flirting thing, anybody able to offer me some advice on how to pull it off?"

"Well the dames love it when you fight over their mating rights. Course you can lose an eye that way, though in my case it was worth it. Candace, grrrrr."

"I doubt that is appropriate in this situation, Constable Ankiel. Nor, I suspect, is my own recommendation to perform the Dance of the Acorn. And since the only help I can offer is useless, let me take this opportunity to leave you all while I check in at my office. Rest well, tomorrow promises to be a long day."

Farewells exchanged, Manny said, "Maude, I need your help."

"You are an adult, I doubt I need to tell you how to flirt."

"If I knew how to flirt, I might have find a wife. And if I found a wife, I would be at home with her, instead of on this adventure with you."

"What about Sir Steve? You turned him into a puddle of pally goo. Or the big guard the other day?"

"As I said, blame that on how I look, not because I have any clue what to do. No way I can compete with the Duchess, who does."

"We just need to channel your inner pixie. Now come stand in front of the mirror. See the pretty girl? Try and flirt with her."

"That's me."

"I know it's you, but aren't you the one who is always saying she isn't you? So try it, be you and flirt with her. Go ahead, try it. Umm, do you need to go to the bathroom first?"

"No, why?"

"Well, the look on your face." Maude answered, pausing for a moment in surprise. "Was that your attempt at flirting? Oh dear, we have a lot of work to do. Try opening your eyes wider. No, not like you've just seen your great-grandmother return from the grave, more like pleased surprise to run into an old friend. Now, part your lips just a bit in a gentle smile."

"That will work on Britney." Ruck said. "It pouts, Oh poo, I'm lost. Can you take me home and look after me."

Trying to not move a single muscle, Manny said, "It makes my face hurt."

"Just relax, Manny." Maude said in a soothing voice.

"I keep thinking how stupid I feel making this face. So I am forcing myself to grin and wear it."

"Don't think."

"I should be a natural at that, but I can't stop. Do you have any magic that would help?"

"It is a risky thing to tamper with someone's mind. I dare not."

Ruck asked, "How about hypnotism?"

"Hypnotism," Maude said, her voice dripping with scorn.

"Just like all magic types, unwilling to consider anything outside of the realm of their expertise. I will have you know that I, Ruck the Super Duper, spent years on the road as a professional hypnotist. My people are great hypnotists."

"If you were so good at it, why are you an auxiliary gaol-keeper?"

"The travel, it got to me. And the prejudice. Few innkeepers are willing to hire a lizard hypnotist, many believe lizards eat what they hypnotize. Do I look like I could eat one of you two legged types."

Manny answered, "Maybe a small one."

"Maybe."

"And if you can eat a cow when you're in dragon form, a person shouldn't be much work."

"Damn, humble as I am, it's hard sometimes to deny how awesome I truly am."

"None of which explains what good it would do for me to cluck like a chicken."

"That is not the only suggestion hypnotists implant. In your case, I would overlay how you identify each juror, with a thought that makes you unconsciously smile. For example, I know Chuckster Freepen is on the jury, what is your immediate thought when you think of the old Chuckster?"

"Who?"

"He wears red pants and a lavender shirt."

"You mean, Unibrow!"

"Yep, that's our man, now think about puppies and kittens."

Maude said, "Hey, that's a nice smile, Manny. Use it. Oh, its gone."

"What if Manny's unconscious self equates unibrows with puppies and kittens? Or that brush over thing on Lester's head with arriving home after a long time away? Or other good things to the winners on the jury."

"That sound's dangerous. What about when I go back to being myself, will any suggestion you implant go away. Most of the guys I know could fit right in with the jury and I don't want to smile all lovey dovey at them."

"Maybe Ruck the Super Duper can tie them to your bigxie identity." Maude said, in challenge.

"Sure, I can do that."

"This another bad idea, isn't it?"

"Trust me, Manny. I'm a professional."

"Maude?"

"I'm sure you will enjoy the moments before finding out if the Duchess is truly a were-spider."

"Why me? Okay, how do we do this?"

Ruck twisted his neck back and forth, stretching in preparation. He stared direct at Manny and said, "Watch my tongue."

Hard not to watch the forked appendage, as it flicked in and out. And in a voice more sibilant than normal, Ruck chanted. "You are getting sleepy. You are getting sleepy. You are getting sleepy...."

Slowly the repulsion Manny felt disappeared. As his stomach settled, he felt a languor take over his body. For a startled moment he fought back against the chant. Almost ready to protest it would not work on him, he discovered he held a desire to believe. To find an easy answer, a trait of his that hindered as often as it helped. So his breath slowed and his eyes drooped, then closed.

Cluck like a Hot Chick

Only while in flight did Manny feel this glorious detachment from the earth; therefore, he must be flying. Fortune above, flying almost made it worth being a bigxie. The freedom offered, the wild abandon as he raced through the sky, all alone, the way the wind danced in his long hair.

But wait, he felt no breeze, something he felt even on the calmest day. And why did he sit, that not how you flew? Maybe because of the sounds. Not the shrieks of birds. Voices? Why did he hear voices? Who spoke? Definitely Maude, but she couldn't fly. And the other voice, yes, Ruck, the lizard from Fairetown. Ruck could fly. The gaol-keeper must have changed into his were form to take them for a ride. Manny wondered if the dragon was as magnificent as the lizard bragged. A thought chased aside by the question as to whether Maude enjoyed flying? He could ask, but their voices seemed so far away. He needed to concentrate.

"Don't worry, Manny should wake soon."

"Were you successful, Ruck?"

"Time will tell. But not before I starve to death, I need supper."

"We can all use a bite to eat. Why don't you go to the Finsters' tent and have them deliver, while I get everything ready for opening. Luckily Agnes often works mornings and nights, using the afternoon for training, so nobody should be surprised the tent was closed this afternoon."

"You'll have to go, I need to keep an eye on Manny."

With a chuckle, Maude said, "I can assure you Manny will not run away. In fact, we may never get him out of the tent."

So that's what a lizard's laugh sounded like. Kind of like Grandma Bobotte. But why were they laughing. And if they were still in the tent, why did he think he flew.

Hynotization!

Ahh, right. They planned to hypnotize him to flirt. Of course he had to leave the tent. Unless...

"Mahhh, wah di' ya dooo?"

"Well, I'll go get supper, while you deal with the sleeping beauty."

"Lucky me," Maude said. "Are you awake, Manny?"

"Why wone I wanna go ough?"

"I don't share Ruck's confidence in his hypnotism skills, so I decided to tweak things to help you grab the jury's attention, no matter how well you flirt."

"Don't unnerstand," Manny said, as his eyelids grew lighter.

"Remember your joke, from the first time you put on Grandmamma's armour?"

Manny's eye snapped open in horror. A brief look downwards had him fly out of his seat towards a mirror, hoping Maude hadn't...

"Well since you've already tried out the leather..."

Manny's jaw dropped, she had. Only one response seemed appropriate.

"Maaaauuuude."

A wistful smile came over the witch's face, as she said, "You sound just like my Liriel."

"When you tried to dress her like this?

"Probably when I would not let her to dress like that."

"See? It's indecent."

"Don't exaggerate, Manny. True it is attention grabbing; however, there are numerous differences between your and Liriel's situations. And before your challenge, I'll name those differences. You are an adult, while at the time she was not. But more important than age is maturity. I could not be sure, despite her protests, that she did not want to be caught. I know that is not the case for you."

"That's for sure."

"One final reason. Though Liriel is very pretty, she could not pull of that look. Manny, you are spectacular."

If only the vision in the mirror were someone else, willing to flirt with him. Because if, as they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then Manny and Maude belonged to the same hive.

(somewhere in Arcie's head, a debate rages)

Internal Editor	Really. Really?
Arcie	I am the Vulcan of Wordplay, out of my way as I stoop upon my keyboard.
Internal Editor	It's spelt Falcon.
Arcie	Spock off, I need to tell everyone about Manny's sexy new look.
Internal Editor	Perv.
Arcie	Hey! You enjoyed the research as much as I did.
Internal Editor	3 Wishes + Rachel Bernstein = Research?
Arcie	You know it.

If open to ridicule, one could say his new outfit was similar to his last. Still blue, but now a cornflower blue to match his eyes, which could only be obtained through the rarest dyes. Perfect for the satin from which the dress now appeared made. A combination he assumed too expensive, with no paying customer, if not mitigated by the small amount of material required in the dress's construction. Skirts that once reached his knees, now reigned victorious over the kilt of his armour in a competition to show as much bigxie thigh as possible, right to his knees, below which his white stockings had shrunk, kept in place by a matching blue ribbon threaded through the welt and tied into a pretty bow at the back of each calf. Victory made more daring by the transformation of his underskirts into a frothy confection of lace, which forced his overskirts and the small white apron, flamboyantly tied at his waist and embroidered with a single pink rose, to angle outwards instead of draping the short distance they could.

Yet this hardly registered in his mind, as he stared at his top. Where once it buttoned to his neck, only a blue bowed, lace choker remained. Below which a great swath of cloth appeared ripped away from his bodice. Luckily, instead of some muscle bound stranger with wind-blown hair acting as the ripper, the material owed its removal to a highly skilled seamstrist. So everything needing coverage, remained covered. Unfortunately, the lace trimmed, square, low cut neckline, combined with boning added to the torso of the bodice, put in as little effort at protection as required. Even as someone intimately familiar with the partially hidden treasures, Manny found them distracting, more hypnotic than Ruck's tongue.

Truly terrifying.

"I can't go out looking like this. Nobody's big enough to carry the stick needed to beat them off."

"Judge Bonecrusher could wield a large stick and the justice system he represents wields a larger one."

"But I have to get to his courtroom first."

"Don't worry, I made you a cape."

"But don't you think it's too much?" Manny asked, waving the fingers of his left hand vaguely at the bottom of his skirts while frantically circling his right hand before his chest.

"Definitely. But that was my goal. And did I ever succeed."

"Maybe we should spread out the surprise. How about just the skirt tomorrow?"

"The skirt is cute."

"I don't know about cute. But I'm somewhat used to it, since the kilt of my armour is almost as bad. Though I worry my shants won't fulfill their promise to stay unseen when I sit."

"That worried me too. So I made them smaller."

"I noticed." Manny said in a prim voice, not mentioning their unwanted migration from when he flew out of the chair to the mirror.

"Though it wouldn't hurt for you to practice sitting like a young lady instead of a drunken soldier. Here, sit again and I'll show you what to do. Yes, yes, I realize the seat is cold, but on a positive note you won't wrinkle your underskirts if you're not sitting on them. Why yes, people always mention my great sense of humour. Now cross your legs. Not at your knees, silly. Or do you want for the jurors to look, the jurors to chant, let's all look at Manny's undershants? Umm, with those heels you'll need angle your legs, otherwise your skirts will poof up. Yes. Just like that. And, tomorrow, if you angle them towards the jury it will appear quite flirtatious."

"Hey!"

"What's the matter, I thought you agreed to flirt."

"I did, I will. But we were talking about toning down my outfit."

"Well you were, I think it is perfect. Think of it like preparing for battle. If your regiment planned a secret strategy that could turn the tide of battle in your favour, would they hold back?"

Foreseeing another lost argument, Manny's answer held a hint of sullenness. "Who knows what stupid things officers will do."

"Well we have a chance to steal a march on the duchess. But you can guarantee she will respond in kind the day after tomorrow."

Unable to deny the, well not exactly, wisdom of her proposal, Manny rallied in another direction. "At a minimum, we should check with Maybelline. Maybe this outfit will turn off the jury."

"Manny, Manny, Manny. You can't honestly tell me that sexy will bother the jury? And after serving as personal seamstrist to Tinka's family longer than you’ve been alive, I don't need some foci to tell me how to dress you sexily."

"I guess."

"But you did give me an idea. You never had a chance to wear the party dress I made for you at the triplets request. Maybe that would work better for tomorrow?"

"You know, the longer I wear this one, the more I like it."

"I suspected that might be the case."

"All Knowing Googly Moogly, is this your angel I see before me, come to draw me to your breast?"

Spinning in his chair, Manny saw Ruck beside a familiar looking fellow holding a basket. Mouth gaping, after his exclamation, his dumb stuck silence allowed Ruck to say, "I decided against Finsters, when I saw Finster the Younger manning their tent today. Instead I decided upon Skichukovs. They have these amazing cheese and potato perogies you need to taste to believe. Also I knew they deliver. Speaking of which, this is Ivan. You may think you recognize him, but you're thinking about his younger brother, Dougie, whose on the jury."

As the large nosed, curly haired, swarthy resemblance to the third juror from the left in the back row clicked home, another thought quickly replaced it. Hearkening back to a day before the village chose him to join the Count of Burgshirevale’s levy, when he still expected to follow his father into blacksmithing. A lovely summer day when a father released his distracted son from the smithy, giving him the afternoon to stay a boy instead of preparing to become a man. Yet an afternoon that left Manny feeling older, in a good way, than ever before. And though in time he learned Sally Cooper spent the afternoon with him with the intention of making Ellis the Mayor's Son jealous, a successful ploy that led to multiple bumps and bruises when Ellis and friends jumped the blacksmith's son, he would always look back on the day with fondness. He remembered the softness of her hand as he held it, the wonder of first kisses, and the power in his fists which both fortunately and unfortunately taught the girls not to use him in such a role.

This memory brought a smile to his face. Full of whimsy and fond remembrances, yet altogether adorable, the warmth of the bigxie smile induced a thaw in Ivan's mind. The soreness of his back and feet, from working in front of a burning fire all day, the bitterness that the court summoned Dougie instead of him for possible jury duty, and the frustration at making a delivery for a stinking lizard all washed away. In it's place blossomed a grin at least as sincere if maybe somewhat more lecherous and less attractive.

"Well I'll be snackered," Maude said in a murmur. "The lizard did it."

Two Choices

"Today will be a good day!"

On their own volition, those words sprang from Manny's mouth upon waking the next morning. Surprised by his own positivity, he attempted to puzzle out what brought it about. Maybe, with this the second day of an expected three day trial, he doubted today could end worse than yesterday. Also he could not deny the value of a good night's sleep, achieved once he decided to follow Maude's recommendation to relieve his stress in order to stop thinking about Maude's recommendation on how to relieve his stress. And if the relief involved visualization of the Duchess Cindi and High Priestess Britney having their way with a blonde pixie, tangled in a web, while wearing a blue dress with a poofy skirt and a cleavage enhancing bodice, well nobody needed to know.

However, the main reason for his almost enthusiasm resulted from being given a role to play. Admittedly, a role neither he nor anybody he knew from the land beyond The Land Beyond would ever expect. But with the help of whatever hypnotism Ruck performed, he thought he could pull it off. After all he did so last night, even while gibbering with panic inside his head.

Ivan proved only the first of the prior night's conquests. For before he left, Maude told him about that all men's wear was on sale, and asking if he could spread the word for here her assistant, Manny. A title at which our bigxie hero balked, even when the seamstrist first fed him some line about flirtation practice. When that failed, Maude guilted him into agreement, complaining that she did not like to work nights, but needed to do after the afternoon at the courthouse.

Begrudgingly, Manny gave in. And soon he had no time to think about anything other than dressing Ivan's large circle of acquaintances, while Maude used her speak-in-his-mind trick to inform him which shirt or pants would be best for each client. Run off his feet, he flew about the tent, diving into different chests to find Maude's choice and delivered it mostly with a smile, brought on by sundry memories, some he did not know existed. By the end of the night, Maude could not contain her glee at the number of sales and Manny found himself too tired to care where a customer's eyes lingered. In ways, he found it similar to how the Baron made them weight their spears and shields for practice.

Even the walk to the courthouse occurred at a good time of day for Manny’s confidence. Well after the prior night’s carousers staggered into their bedrolls and soon after those who worked began their day, leaving few people on the street. He hardly needed the promised cape, which cleverly gave his wings freedom while hiding all but his knee high stockings and shoes. If only Maude would let him temporarily ignore what the cape hid.

"For maximum impact, you should hold off removing your cape as long as possible."

"What? You mean, like make a show of it?"

"Exactly, that's perfect."

"Maude, the judge would never allow it."

"The same judge who let the Duchess slink into the courtroom yesterday?"

"Well..."

"Not much bothers ole Bonecrusher." Ruck said.

Maude said, "Manny, I'll nudge you when I think the time is right. You stand, remove your cape, spring our surprise, and sit in that sexy manner we practiced last night. And don't worry about getting too warm, I used a light linen for you cape."

"I can assure you, I wasn't worried about that."

"Excellent, then we have a plan."

Deciding not to fight, Manny said, "Although, it won't be much of a surprise. Quite a few people saw me last night."

"And not one of them left without a purchase. Once Agnes finds out, she'll try to steal you away to work as her shop girl."

"She would have to convince me first. And that's not happening." Manny said, conviction in his voice.

"You really should consider it. You're a natural."

"I'm not a natural, it's because of this surprise outfit. Which probably isn't a surprise anymore, since they likely babbled about it to everyone."

"Luckily they did, which kept us in a steady stream of customers. But I doubt any share the same circles as the Duchess."

"How about her henchmen?"

"Henchweres," Ruck said, a sibilant snarl in his voice. "I doubt not they would be in the dives and dens your customers retreated to after their shopping. But they would be there to spread their cursed lies about beastweres, not to listen to the ramblings of humans, whom they respect only slightly more."

Maude shrugged and said, "No use worrying about it now? We will just have to hope for the best."

Taking silence for consent, the witch continued to the courthouse. Almost there, she asked, "What is that shouting?"

"Sounds like someone's yelling to shop at the faire," Ruck answered.

"Who would hire a barker for something so obvious?"

In the square in front of the courthouse they found the answer. In shock, Manny muttered his favourite exclamation, "Fortune above."

There in the middle of the square, resplendent, or at least presentable, in their new clothes stood a number of customers from the previous night. Some of whom thrust signs into the air above their heads, but all of whom chanted, "Free the Shop Fairy! Free the Shop Fairy! Free the Shop Fairy! Free the Shop Fairy!"

Maude said, "I think they're shouting about you."

If Ruck could snort, he would. Instead he said, "Of course they’re shouting about Manny."

"I'm not a fairy!"

"None of those idiots are considered amongst the town's experts in fae."

Maude said, "Someone's a grumpy lizard this morning."

"Sorry, I just didn't sleep so good last night. The floor isn't as comfortable in the hall and bigxie stress relief is rather loud."

Manny ignored the comment, one that would normally turn his face red, watching the mob stampeded towards the object of their infatuation, him. Offered a chance to dispel his morning truculence, Ruck scurried in front of seamstrist and shop bigxie. There he rose upon his hind legs and hissed at the arrivals who skidded to a stop, those in the back plowing into those in front.

"If you know what's good for ya, don't be thinking about taking my prisoner."

Ivan Skichukov found himself nominated spokesman, through the simple act of failing to hold his place when those behind him gave a shove. He said, "We's weren't gonna steal her, Ruck. We's here to offer support. You know against the turraranicle weres from the Duchy of Were that you talk about."

"And while wearing your new clothes. Don't they look handsome, Manny?"

Caught in that place where only politeness is allowed, Manny said, "They do."

"I bet you're the envy of your friends? Happily for them the Shop Fairy and my sale continues tonight. That is, if we don't lose the trial today."

"We'll never let them take her." The crowd roared.

"You are a brave bunch, but we promised to follow the judgment of the court. A court which we must hasten towards."

Resuming their journey, now trailed by the sign waving group, Manny whispered, "Why encourage them, Maude?"

"The instructors at Seamstrist School always stressed the importance of marketing. I can't help myself."

"I know."

"It's part of my charm."

Unlike the previous day, they found the Duchess and her party already there. A group grown well beyond Duchess and advocate, which now included clerks, guards, maids, nobles, and various functionaries from the Duchy of Were, each member's worthiness measured by how close they sat behind the Duchess. In comparison, Manny's supporters were a ragtag bunch, but ones he now happily accepted. Though that happiness could be a result of what the Duchess wore. A midnight blue dress, in which she appeared gorgeous and sexy, but varied little from the red number of the day before. Maude's surprise remained in play.

Ignoring those at the other table, who in turn ignored them, they sat. Ashley in the leftmost seat, Maude in the middle, and Manny on the right, closest to the jury who soon appeared, herded to their seats by Brenden the Orc Bailiff. Who joined his sister, Jennifer, on either side of the judge's door, where they glowered at anyone who dared to murmur a word. This continued until some signal caused him to clear his throat and say, “Everybody rise and welcome the Sultan of Swinghome, the Monster in the Closet, the Putter of the Sham in the Shama Lama Ding Dong, the nine hundredth and thirty eighth most eligible bachelor in the Land Beyond, Justice Bufort T. Bonecrusher.”

No explosion of smoke welcomed the judge this time.

(The door opens and judge steps calmly through, hands in the sleeves of his robe, and walks to stand in front of the desk. Orcs follow him, to stand to either side and just a bit behind him.

Bailiff and Clerk	(begin to hum, swaying back and forth, hands facing the audience)
Judge Bonecrusher	(swaying along with the orcs)
	Well, You've got two choices,
	'fore all fairethings are claimed.
	Two choices, justice sees them the same.
	Let me tell you 'bout, your first lady.
	Well, she's sweet and kind.
	Hints at good like a lady should.
	And makes you want to.
	You really want to, you want to let her go.
	Ho-ho-ho (orcs repeat - ho-ho-ho) you want her so (orcs repeat - want her so)
	And we'll hear everything we can
	To let her go.
	Well, You've got two choices,
	'fore all fairethinga are claimed.
	Two choices, justice sees them the same.
	Let me tell you 'bout, your second lady.
	Ya know she promises bad.
	Makes you glad. makes you cry,
	But still you can't deny that you want her
	You really, really want to, give him to her.
	Ho-ho-ho (orcs repeat - ho-ho-ho) you want her so (orcs repeat - want her so)
	And we'll hear everything we can
	To make it so.
	Well, You've got two choices,
	'fore all fairethinga are claimed.
	Two choices, justice sees them the same.
	Two choices 'fore all fairethinga are claimed...

(The judge then walks to his desk to sit, while the orcs resume their positions.)

The sober tone of the song did not invite any audience participation. Even when the song came to an end it drew no applause, barely any visible response. However, behind the defendant's table, Maude nudged Manny's in the side. Receiving no response, her target distractedly smiling at a flustered juror who brought to mind his mother's delicious spiced bread, the witch elbowed him.

Jarred from him reverie, Manny realized the reason for the ache in his side. Almost he balked, but he remembered his commitment to the plan and steeled his nerves. Internally chanting, 'don't think, don't think', a mantra that served him well during many a battle, he reached to his neck to undo the buttons that held the cape closed. With the second one following the first, he flowed out of his chair as he undid the last in a manner only possible for someone as comfortable in the air as on the ground. Then in a swoosh he removed the cape off and draped it over this seat, which required a tiny bend at his waist and ensured each jurors noticed his ruffled white underskirts.

"Take it off, Shop Fairy! Take it all off!"

"Fergus, what have I told you about shouting in my court?" Judge Bonecrusher said, glaring over the top of Manny's head.

"Don't do it." A voice meeker than it's previous shout said.

"Correct! Or Jennifer won't let you take her to the next dance. And you, young lady, do you have a problem?"

Not quite wilting back into his seat in response to the judge's question, not wanting to expose his shants, Manny asked as much as said, "I was warm?"

"Hopefully you do not get cold in your lovely new dress. Isn't the defendant's dress pretty, Advocate del Fia?"

"It is, Your Honour," del Fia answered, a hint of a smile on his face at the defense's actions.

"Definitely a pair of beauties we have before us. Though I do hope they will let the jury pay some attention to the witness box." Bonecrusher said, not quite censuring the two sides.

As for the jury, they decided with nobody in the witness box they could ignore it. Instead some looked towards the Duchess to see her eyes gleam competitively with seductive entreaty. While others attempted to conjure a breeze to blow away the clouds of bigxie underskirts.

Trial by (   )

"If everybody is now comfortable? Good. Let us start with the morning session. Advocate, please call your next witness."

Before del Fia could speak, another voice rang out from the audience. "Your Honour, before the esteemed counsel from Were does that, I need to bring a matter of precedence before the court."

These words announced the arrival of a tall woman, who confidently strode between the opponents' tables to stand before the judge, trailed by a harried youth. The judge, based upon the grin of appreciation upon his face, felt less surprise at the interruption than anyone else.

"Solicitor Yzerbelle, to what do we owe your presence?"

"Judge Bonecrusher, so good to see you again," the solicitor said.

In that moment, a matter of confusion became clear in Manny's mind. That matter of who had interrupted? Far from a baritone, but definitely a man's voice. Though not the youth's voice, he did not portray the boldness necessary to interrupt. But when the solicitor answered, the same confident voice rang out. And when the solicitor turned, Manny now believed he saw a man.

However, appearance made it far from a sure thing. Solicitor Yzerbelle's face showed a fine bone structure, with red lips, bright green eyes, and a nose bordering on delicate. Pretty, rather than handsome, made more so by a gleam of confidence. Though not arrogance, instead it stemmed from someone who just liked himself. Manny also now recognized Yzerbelle wore a stylized version of uniform worn by the judge and the other lawyers, but seeming to pay homage to both he and the duchess. For the solicitor's robe mimicked the duchess' dress, though in his case it draped to display a form as slender as a willent. And for a wig, little did it differ from what Manny displayed when he undid his hair from his normal ponytail.

"Messer Yzerbelle is one of my best customers," Maude whispered to Manny. "We'll be stopping at his manor after we leave Fairetown."

Overhearing this, the solicitor smiled and said, "I wait in anticipation, since I so look forward to your visits, Seamstrist Zbornak. But at the moment I cannot allow myself to be distracted by such pleasant thoughts. Not while I act on behalf of the family in this important matter."

"Yes, please tell us why you interrupt this court of law," Advocate del Fia said, belligerence at the interruption in the tone of his voice. Belligerence not felt by his client, who, distracted from playing with the jury, stared raptly at the new arrival.

"I am here on behalf of the Vineyards of Xavier Yzerbelle."

"We are familiar with the name, in fact they supply of the Duchess's favourite wines. Though I am confused as to what role they could play in the matter before the court today?"

"If you will allow me, Advocate del Fia, I will provide an answer." Receiving a nod, Solicitor Yzerbelle continued. "Though not figuratively, I am brought to you by four wagons, more specifically the contents of those wagons and the man who led that wagon train. For each wagon held four casks of Yzerbelle's finest, Chateau de Belle. Wagon's destined for the Ducal Palace in Angharee, under the command of one Simon Unkler."

Stirred somewhat from her distraction, Duchess Cindi asked, "Do you mean the ones Simon gifted to me when he proposed?"

"The same, your Gracefulness. And while such a gift barely begins to offer you proper homage, those casks were not Unkler's to give away. He did not own them, instead he worked for Vineyards and was to sell them for the best price possible."

Neither flirtation nor distraction showed in the duchess's eyes as she asked, "He worked for Yzerbelle's? He introduced himself as Simon Unkler, Duke Plicity, a nobleman from the other side of the Bridge."

The fear that an angry duchess may go were, more than the sanctity of the court, stopped Manny from bursting out in laughter. Since seeing her the day before, he wondered how the former quartermaster became her betrothed. To learn that Unkler did it using a persona created, amongst great laughter, around the campfires of the regiment caused him to feel an admiration that warred with his anger. It also caused him to scribble a note to Ashley, proposing a question for another witness, on del Fia's submitted list, whom he no longer dreaded quite as much.

Unaware of the thoughts inside the defendant's head, Yzerbelle answered the duchess. "Great is the man's ability to lie. Lies which made each of us his victim. Either as employer, friend, or lover. Although whether that is a matter for the courts, I am not sure."

"Which makes it even more difficult to understand your matter of precedence, Solicitor Yzerbelle." Advocate del Fia said, placing a calming hand upon his client's forearm.

"For a matter which does belong before the courts, the theft of sixteen casks of wine. Though worry not, we place no blame upon the Duchy of Were. No, Simon Unkler bears all responsibility for this crime. And now it appears a Simon Unkler may become available for punishment, depending upon what this court decides."

A new worry blossomed in Manny's mind. He nervously look towards Ashley, but before the ashent could rise in protest, an unexpected party did so, though not for them.

del Fia said, "Your Honour, if I understand Solicitor Yzerbelle's premise correctly, it will force me into an untenable position. If I prosecute my case to the full extent of my ability, my assured victory will be useless. For when I prove Manny kin Nichino should inherit the responsibilities of Simon Unkler, it will transform him into a defendant at a trial of theft, rather than the luckiest man in the Land Beyond."

The judge asked, "If we are to believe your own premise, Advocate. Would not this alleged theft be one such responsibility to inherit?"

"If the jury is required to judge based on the entirety of Unkler's life, I suppose that would be true, Your Honour. However, that is beyond the scope which we seek to prove. Instead, we contend that the defendant should only assume those responsibilities his actions allowed Unkler to dodge. I am not aware that the Vineyards of Xavier Yzerbelle lodged any complaint or sought the capture of Unkler before the actions of Duchess of Were resulted in this trial. And since Unkler faced no such threat from the Yzerbelles before he made his escaped, it is not an responsibility Manny kin Nichino helped him dodge."

Yzerbelle said, "We only learned of the theft two days ago, when our wagon teams returned from Angharee."

"Which further proves my point."

"This is all rather tenuous and frivolous, borderline preposterous, Advocate del Fia." Judge Bonecrusher said. "It is as if you wish to have your suckling piglet and eat it too."

"Some may say that, Your Honour. But on one hand I argue for a result that most men would consider a blessing, while on the other I argue for its loss." del Fia said.

"Nay, though my father might consider that punishment if we captured the real Simon Unkler; however, we only seek compensation, probably in the form of work, from this pretend Simon Unkler you seek to create."

The duchess leaned over to whisper in her attorney's ear, who said, "We could offer you that compensation, Solicitor Yzerbelle."

"If only it were that simple, Advocate del Fia. But would that deter future thieves?"

"Then I am left with my conundrum."

"Your Honour, my worthy colleague raises a valid point." Yzerbelle said. "A point I expected someone of his competency to identify. It is why I would like to prove offer an alternative solution."

"We are listening."

"Yes, we are listening too." Ashley said, worrying the antagonism between the others may disappear and lead to a partnership.

"If you’ve listened to the Faire's crier, you will know the Everlong Summer Wine Jamboree begins in four days. As is tradition, our vineyard will sponsor the opening night. And while an amazing night of entertainment is already planned, there is no reason we cannot make it better. Therefore, I propose that instead of continuing the trial in this court, we move it to that night? There, if the Duchy of Were wins, the most beautiful duchess will have her husband. Otherwise the defendant is set free. How will we will determine the victor, by putting the matter before a jury pool to include all, be they from here, Were, or anywhere. On that night, we will conduct a Trial by Water."

"That's barbaric." Ashley said in protest.

del Fia agreed, saying, "Your Honour, I think enough of our time has been wasted by this matter."

"Now counselors, don't be hasty. Let us hear the solicitor out." The judge said.

"Thank you, Your Honour. If you would, Gaston? Hold it up, boy, it won't bite."

This last he directed at the youth, who reached into the pouch he carried and pulled forth a bundle of white cloth. Eyes wide with embarrassment, Gaston dropped the pouch to the floor, then with both hands held the item to hang before him. That item, a thin, cotton shift upon which someone had embroidered those letters that symbolize the Vineyards of Xavier Yzerbelle.

"My pardon for the shoddy work. When necessary, I am sure that Seamstrist Zbornak will prepare better ones for the trial. A trial performed at the stroke of midnight, when the plaintiff and defendant, both dressed in their special shifts, will appear before the jury of the masses. At that point we will drench each in water and judge who is most worthy, as indicated by the level of applause when I hold my hand above each head."

Ever since Maude's wardrobe modifications, a specific part of Manny's current anatomy occupied the forefront of his mind and edge of his vision. This combined with a memory of how a rainstorm caused a drastic change in the drape of his white robe. Involuntarily he looked first downwards and then across at the duchess, whose face showed confusion, while he performed a mental comparison. Embarrassing if caught, but another made the same connection as he and caused a distraction

"Woohoo, a trial by water. Water! Water! Water! Ack!"

This last, along with the sound of a falling chair resulted from the bailiff, his mallets in hand, rushing towards the two tables.

"The judge warned you, Fergus." Brendan said in a growl.

"I forgot, Brenden. Honest."

Protest ineffective, Fergus ran from the courtroom, the bailiff close on his heels. At which moment, the duchess fully understood what the solicitor proposed, her eyes following a mirrored path to Manny's a moment before.

"I won't do it."

"Of course you won't, Milady. Solicitor Yzerbelle, how could you propose something so beneath the Duchess's dignity?"

"We would allow a champion in your place, Duchess. Though your ability to find one worthier than yourself for this trial, truly boggles my mind."

With the duchess caught between outrage and appreciation of the flattery, Manny said, "I won't do it either."

"I told you neither would agree to your idea, Solicitor Yzerbelle. So present mine."

"You are astute as ever, Judge Bonecrusher. But I doubt they will agree to a Trial by Combat."

"Which involves?" del Fia asked, dreading the answer.

The judge excitedly answered, "I was thinking that the Yzerbelle's could provide one of the tubs in which they crush their grapes. Fill it with said grapes, inside of which the plaintiff and defendant can fight, with the first to pin her competitor twice winning."

Seeing the looks directed at him from both tables, he said, "You're going to make me sit through the rest of the trial, aren't you? How about a Trial by Fire, we can see who can dance around a bonfire the longest? No? Damn it, I wanted to go fishing this afternoon."

Yzerbelle said "It looks like we may need to discuss your previous offer, Duchess. May we get together at lunch to negotiate a price?"

Instead of answering the question, she asked, "Do you always dress is such attractive fashion, Solicitor Yzerbelle?"

"Alas, no. Only for the most important matters. When I am before the courts, when I serve as patron of the arts, and during seduction."

Returning his look with one as smoky as his own, she said, "I very much look forward to lunch."

Offering an extravagant bow in her direction, Yzerbelle gestured for Gaston to precede him and sauntered from the room. An extra something in his walk, in case the eyes of his lunch date followed.

They did.

A Quack and a Knob

Standing to call his next witness, del Fia's cocked his head in the direction of an open window. Hearing a faint cry of, 'stop chasing me,' he asked, "Do we need to wait for the return of your bailiff before we continue?"

A red eyed glare drifted from face to face, as the judge said, "Only if any people are worried that I cannot handle any problems? Anybody? No? Please carry on, Advocate."

"Your Honour, I call Doctor Arnow Horschach to the stand."

Amongst all the individuals Manny met, since his arrival in the Land Beyond, he could not say the Doctor ranked as the strangest. Though when he met with the man, arranged three afternoons earlier by the plaintiff, he did so confused as to why and left more so. A meeting where the doctor asked him all manner of random questions, few of which seemed linked to the others.

This was the fellow, scrawny and with a shock of curly hair, who took the stand and swore his oath to tell the truth.

"Doctor Horschach, is here to offer us his learned opinion on the defendant's true desires in this matter. Please, Doctor, could you explain your qualifications that allow you to perform this evaluation?"

"Of course, Advocate del Fia. I apprenticed and studied beneath the great Doctor Anatidae Cawtar at the Steerford University, where I obtained my Doctorate in Skulldiggery."

"I went to Steerford as well."

"Of that, I am more than aware, Your Honour. I was there when you led our boys to three straight championships over the University of Grantabridge in the yearly hide and seek contest."

"Those were the days."

"They were, Your Honour. After graduation, I taught for a number of years at the school, while developing the Horschach test."

"The what test, Doctor?" Judge Bonecrusher asked.

"It is a test that allows a skilled practitioner to evaluate a subject and determine how his mind works. It is performed by presenting the subject with a number of specific images and interpreting his or her response, not only the words said, but the time it takes to come up with those words, and many other factors.

Thinking of the test, Manny remembered it as more confusing than the questions. Each time the Doctor presented an image, always a shadow puppet upon the wall, he stated the animal's name. However, that did not stop the doctor from mumbling things, such as; how interesting, that’s a surprise, and so forth, almost as if he learned the answers to life's mysteries. It took all of Manny’s restraint not to strangle the man before the meeting ended.

"So with this test, you can determine whether a person is crazy?"

"Please, Your Honour, we in the profession prefer the term barmy. Still that is not the goal of my test, which seeks to understand how a person perceives reality and how they think."

Unable to hide disbelief, Judge Bonecrusher asked, "Really?"

"Many studies have proven it so, Your Honour. There are many who seek out my skills. Chief among those is King Lawrence of the Sea of Enn Enn, who often asks me to evaluate those who come to him with their problems."

"King Lawrence?" The judge asked, more than a bit of awe in his voice. "They say he has his finger on the pulse of the world."

"I do not doubt it, Your Honour."

"Well if you're good enough for King Lawrence, your good enough for us. Ask your questions, Advocate."

The next two hours of questions from Advocate del Fia and long winded responses from the Doctor Horschach proved more mind numbing than an attempt to count one's eyelashes without a mirror. The judge spent much of the time polishing his warhammer. The Duchess who remained distracted from Solicitor Yzerbelle's visit, did not resume her prior day's flirtations. And without this competition, Manny saw no need to engage in any counter-flirtation. Instead he tried to ignore the jurors, who spent an inordinate amount of time studying the cut of his bodice. Throughout, most of the questions, the only distraction occurred when a triumphant and sad Brendan returned to the court, the reason for these mixed emotions apparent in the pieces of broken mallet he held in each hand. Finally del Fia asked a question that returned everyone’s attention to the stand.

"Doctor, between the form which the defendant currently inhabits and that of Simon Unkler's, which would be his preference?"

"Despite appearance, the defendant has the spirit and inclinations of a male. With constant diligence he may continue to cope as he is now, but he would be happier as Simon Unkler."

"And what would be the defendants thoughts about marrying the Duchess."

"He would worry that he is not good enough for her, though it would be a fantasy come true."

"So it would be a good thing for the defendant?"

"That is my clinically determined opinion."

"Thank you, Doctor Horschach. Your Honour, no further questions."

"Barrister Ashtonson, your witness." Judge Bonecrusher said.

Ashley said, "Thank you, Your Honour. Doctor Horschach, you say my client can cope as he is. How long will he be able to do so before going barmy?"

"I am unwilling to unequivocally state your client will go barmy, if he stays as is. The defendant is a steadfast sort, almost plodding by nature, which will act as a counter. However, if he stays in this form, I expect mental cracks to form."

"How long before these cracks occur."

Horschach, almost primly, said, "I cannot say with any certainty."

"Within two weeks?"

"No, not that fast."

"Four weeks?"

"Still unlikely."

"Well my client will be returned to his natural form within four weeks." Ashley said. "Between Simon Unkler's form and his own, which would be his preference?"

Doctor Horschach paused, but said, "His own."

"Thank you, Doctor Horschach. Your Honour, I too have no further questions."

del Fia said, "Your Honour, I have additional questions."

"Will they be less boring than before?"

"I believe so, Your Honour."

Shaking his head, the judge said, "Wrong answer, Advocate. If you said, 'No, Your Honour,' I would have allowed them. Since you didn’t, Doctor Horschach, you may leave the stand. And, Advocate, you may call your next witness."

"Your Honour, I call Sued Bway to the stand."

When Ashley showed Manny a list of the plaintiff’s potential jurors, this name jumped out, because it belonged to someone he knew. Had known since they were both boys in Ganfree. Though never not as friends.

Truth told, Bway did not make any friends. This despite many advantages over Manny. Wealthy by Ganfree standards, his parents owned a number of bakeries throughout the County of Burgshirevale that sold everybody's favourite long bun and toppings, so he never worked and could spend his days in play. Furthermore, along with his older sister and brother, he inherited their parents dark good looks. However, unlike those siblings he never learned their common sense or humility. Arrogant, whiny, annoying, conniving, deceitful and paranoid. Sued could serve as the High Aputzle to the God of Knobs.

The truest statement of Bway's worth came when the village picked the disposable twenty for their levy, in which he was numbered. This despite his parent’s ability to stop his inclusion. The result, bitterness added to Sued's litany of charms.

Yet he too found a place, though not on the shield wall. On the shield wall you needed to trust the guys beside you to hold his position and nobody trusted Sued to hold his place in the latrine line. However, despite rarely sullying his hands with flour in one of the family's shops, he proved a natural baker and the baker's hours minimized his contact with others. Like Manny, he received an offer from the Beige Baron after the Battle of Muddy Creek, where Bway came under the command of one Sergeant Simon Unkler, who manipulated him with the greatest of ease.

Under Unkler, Sued achieved his greatest success. During a campaign in Brevia, a large enemy army cut the regiment off from their allies. Knowing they would be forced into battle the next day, most settled down for their final night sleep; however, Bway snuck into the enemy's camp and mixed a concoction of his own making into their barrels of flour. Not a poison to kill, the Baron would not countenance that even to save what he held most dear, but it did give most of the enemy soldiers, who ate biscuits for breakfast, the trots. Thus debilitated, they could not stop a break out by the Baron's professionals, nor maintain the blistering pace of the regiment's march. So for a time, he was the regiment's hero, the Biscuit Artist, not the baker called Sue.

It did not last.

Then some men in the regiment showed symptoms of deshal usage. The Baron put Lieutenant Finkle on the job. Many figured the hunt would lead to Sergeant Unkler, but when Finkle raided the back room of a nearby inn they found only an open window. Manny, because of his size, accompanied the Lieutenant on the raid; therefore, he reached the window first and saw a group of men running away, one who looked like Bway. But in the night, he could not swear to that fact. Nor did the Baron ask him to do so, satisfied the raid seemed to scare the drug ring out of business.

Bway, once he heard of Manny's accusation, did not forget. The slight disdain he always felt towards his fellow Ganfree outcast gave way to unbridled hate. Little wonder he sought to play a role in Manny's downfall.

The time since the regiment ended appeared to have agreed with Bway. Taking the stand he appeared a prosperous merchant, but the look on his face defined Sued Bway perfectly. A combination of a sneer and leer as he stared at his feminized foe. Manny, in turn, did not wilt nor blush beneath this sleer. He did stop himself from thrusting his chest out, realizing, just in time, how much less pugnacious this would appear than in the past. Rather he stared back, his face unconsciously adopting the expression of contempt achievable only by pretty girls.

del Fia said, "Your Honour, Master Bway is the Court Apothecary in Angharee; however, he knew both Manny kin Nichino and Simon Unkler outside the Land Beyond. Can you tell us where you met both, Master Bway?"

(somewhere inside Arcie's head, a recommendation is made)

Internal Editor	Skip the first part of Bway's questioning.
Arcie	You think?
Internal Editor	You'll just be repeating stuff from the narrative that everybody knows.
Arcie	Woohoo, I'm excellent at not writing stuff.
Internal Editor	Everybody knows that as well.

"Master Bway, were Manny kin Nichino and Simon Unkler close?" Advocate del Fia asked.

"Not friend close, no. Sergeant Unkler kept everyone at a distance, but he liked trustworthy followers. He include Nichino in this group."

"How so?"

"Whenever the Sergeant went off on a mission he always took along Nichino's squad for protection. Nobody knew more about Unkler's secrets, and he had lots, than that squad, but none ever said anything or responded to the rumours. They were scared of Nichino."

"What rumours?"

"More than I can remember. One about a Countess and another time when the regiment had a deshal problem. Most fingered Unkler as the ring leader, but when they tried to catch them, he got away. People whispered that Nichino warned him about the raid, which is why he probably tried to pin the blame on me. To disguise his own membership within the ring."

"Your Honour, that is heresy." Ashley said.

"Agreed, Barrister. Jury, pretend you can forget the witness’s statement."

"One more question, Master Bway." del Fia said. "Would Manny kin Nichino place himself in harms way for Simon Unkler?"

"Nichino took an arrow for Unkler during the Pecyl Campaign."

Remembering the incident differently, Manny watched as Ashley stood to take del Fia’s place.

Ashley asked, "Master Bway, did you not serve under the command of the quartermaster, Sergeant Unkler."

"I did, but as a baker my hours were earlier than Sergeant Unkler kept. Besides he dealt with us through the corporals, like Nichino."

"Was my client within the quartermaster's command?"

"No, not most of the time."

"When last did you see Simon Unkler?"

"I guess when the regiment disbanded."

"You did not see him during his stay in Angharee?"

"No, during mandrake harvest I keep late nights."

"Didn't you want to see an old companion?"

"I didn't know he was in town."

"You didn't know he courted the Duchess? Do you not live at the palace?" Ashley asked, disbelief in his voice.

"I do. And I heard about the courtship, but I never heard his name, only about some Lord."

"Duke Plicity?"

A surly look appeared on Sued's face as he answered, "I didn't hear."

"I find that hard to believe, did you live a hermit’s life and talk to nobody? Surely the courtship was a common topic of conversation."

"Your Honour, Barrister Ashtonson is badgering the witness." del Fia said in protest.

Thinking for a moment Judge Bonecrusher said, "I have a pet badger whose sad we can't go fishing this afternoon. Move onto another question, Barrister Ashtonson."

"Yes, Your Honour." Ashley said. "Master Bway, when was the first time you heard of the Duke Plicity?"

"You're right, probably at the palace." Sued answered, a bead of sweat forming on his brow.

"You don't remember Sergeant Unkler using that name around the campfire?"

"No."

"Do you remember Marquis D'Cept-Ion?"

"No."

"Then my client is wrong to state that Unkler and yourself created the characters, Duke Plicity and Marquis D'Cept-Ion, to amuse your comrades?

Nervously glancing from the plaintiff’s table to the judge's warhammer, upon which he pledged to tell the truth, Bway said, "Nichino is wrong."

"Do you not think an honourable employee would inform his employee when he knew she was being duped?"

"Your Honour, leading and speculative." del Fia said.

"I retract my last question, Your Honour. No further questions."

Judge Bonecrusher asked, "Any further questions, Advocate?"

Glaring at Bway, he said, "No, Your Honour."

"Any more witnesses?"

"No, Your Honour. The plaintiff rests."

"Excellent, then I'm off for lunch. You all do whatever you want, as long as your back at two bells."

Grand Finale

After the judge left the courtroom, Brenden ushered the jury out by behind him, while Manny’s admirers, now bored even more witless, fled. However, none of the Were contingent moved. Instead they watched their duchess and her advocate talk quietly with the other. Finally the two stood, directed angry glances at Bway, who stayed on the stand, almost as if he hoped it offered protection. It did not, when the duchess moved to leave, the advocate directed an imperious come hither gesture towards the apothecary before he followed his liege. Their side of the room emptying after them.

“Am I imagining things or was Bway a terrible witness?” Manny asked.

“Preposterously bad,” Ashley agreed. “The only way he could be worse is if he tattooed liar on his forehead. I can’t believe del Fia did not prepare him better.”

“Bway has this irrational confidence. He is able to convince himself that only he knows what is going on. He forgets that others can interfere with his plans, it isn’t in his nature to think you would catch him out on anything. So if del Fia didn’t that about him, I can understand how he thought Sued would be a good witness. Nor is he the first to learn the problem with putting any trust in him.”

“Well I tell you, the only person who liked Bway’s testimony more than us, was Doctor Horschach. His own testimony was lukewarm, at best, for either side, but in comparison it was exactly what del Fia wanted to hear.”

Manny asked, “It was a good morning, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Maude said, “The duchess’s interest also seemed to wane. Perfectly understandable, now that she knows Unkler is a con man. How will you precede with your defense, Ashley?”

“I intend to call you first, Maude. I would like to show that Manny and Unkler ran into each other by accident, which we should be able to do when you outline your travels.”

“Will you want to question me?” Manny asked.

“I am of two minds on that. Before this morning, I would have said yes. In a he said she said situation, only your voice is available, not Unkler’s. That is a strength to utilize. But now I wonder if there is a need, we may be better off with little defense, which will keep Bway’s performance fresh in the jury’s mind when they begin to deliberate. Let us adjourn for lunch and I will think on the matter. Any preference?”

“You know, I could go for some maple pecan ice cream.”

“I know just the place.”

“Just let me put on my cape.”

 
Feeling his normal sugar high after eating sweets, Manny paced around the courtroom, empty except for Maude and Ashley. Next to arrive, surprisingly, were a smaller group of his admirers, and before he knew it, his extra energy made him gush his thanks. Luckily the two orcs appeared before he embarrassed himself too much. However, even when they heard the ring of the second bell, at which time the jury took their seats, neither the duchess nor her advocate, not even a single one of her supporters, appeared.

Moving to the window, Brendan looked out, quietly spoke to Jennifer, and knocked on the door to the judge’s chamber. Through it, a scowling ogre appeared to take his seat, his red eyed glare upon the main door. Nobody said a word, worried they may ignite the judge’s simmering anger. Better to leave that to the man who finally entered, Advocate del Fia.”

“You are late, Advocate.”

“My apologies, Your Honour.”

“Will your client be joining us?”

“No, Your Honour, she is still at lunch with Solicitor Yzerbelle.”

“You are lucky, Advocate. I nearly ruled in favour of the defendant in your absence.”

“We would not have protested if you did, Your Honour.”

“What?”

“Her Grace, Duchess Cindi of Were has asked me to tell you that we no longer seek the extradition of Manny kin Nichino.”

“I’m going fishing!” Judge Bonecrusher said, pumping his fist in the air.

(Turn to look at the audience, where in response, Manny's admirers break into song)

Manny's supporters	(hugging and high fiving each other in celebration)
	Ding Dong! The Fairy's free. Which Fairy? The Shop Fairy!
	Ding Dong! The Shop Fairy is free.
	Shout it - loud and clear, plug your ears, get out of here.
	Shout it, the Shop Fairy is free. She's gone where the seamstrists go,
	Hello - hello - hello. Yo-ho, let's open shop and sell all the clothing out.
	Ding Dong' the merry-oh, sing it high, sing it low.
	Let them know
	The Shop Fairy is Free!
Judge Bonecrusher	(rapping his battlehammer on his desk)
	As Justice of the Fairetown Court,
	In this County in the Land Beyond,
	I set her free most regally.
Barrister Ashley	(standing up)
	But we've got to verify it legally, to see
Judge Bonecrusher	To see?
Barrister Ashley	If she
Judge Bonecrusher	If she?
Barrister Ashley	Is morally, ethic'lly
Brendan the Bailiff	(marching forward to stand in front of the judge’s desk)
	Spiritually, physically
Jennifer the Clerk	(joining her brother)
	Positively, absolutely
Supporters and Jury	(hanging on each other like only happens in musicals)
	Undeniably and reliably free
Advocate del Fia	(rising from his seat)
	As Were Counsel I will aver, I thoroughly exonerated her.
	And she's not only merely free, she's really most sincerely free.
Judge Bonecrusher	Then this is a day of Independence For the Shop Fairy and her descendants
Barrister Ashley	If any.
Judge Bonecrusher	Yes, let the joyous news be spread the super hot Shop Fairy is free!
All but	(dance out of the courtroom, repeating)
Manny/Maude/del Fia	Ding Dong! The Fairy's free. Which Fairy? The Shop Fairy!

Mouth ajar, Manny asked, “What just happened.”

“Seamstrist Zbornak, Solicitor Yzerbelle told me to prepare you to work on two wedding dresses when you visit.” del Fia said.

It took a moment, but Manny puzzled out what that meant, he asked, “What about her were-spiderness?”

“Ahh, I wondered why you fought what seemed so tempting. Doubtlessly you heard rumours about the Duchess’s parents. Let me just say, Yzerbelle has nothing to fear, his family is too powerful to anger.”

“What about me, would I have had anything to fear.”

del Fia did not answer, he only smiled, as he left the room.

“I think I made a huge mistake, Maude.”

“Nonsense, Manny. I can’t see you as some rich woman’s kept man.”

“I can. I’ve seen many times in my dreams.”

“Besides you wouldn’t want to leave me, before our journey is complete, would you?”

“Uuuuuh, I guess.”

“I knew it.” Maude said, grabbing one of his arms in a hug. “Now let’s head to the Seamstrist tent, we have a sale to run.”

“I think I’ll head back to my room, instead.”

“That won’t pay for Ashley’s services.”

“What?”

“You can’t expect him to work for free. However, you made a decent amount of commission last night, which will make a dent in his fees.”

“Can I change back into the outfit I wore yesterday?”

“If you think you can sell as much as you did last night? We only have three days left here and Ashley didn’t come cheap.”

“Crap. Okay let’s go.”

“That’s the spirit, my pretty Shop Fairy.”

“Maaaauuuude.”