The Magehound - Elaine Cunningham [50]
He spoke ringingly of Matteo's scholarship, intellect, and unblemished record.
"We have had eleven petitions for this jordain's services," the headmaster concluded. He placed a sheaf of parchment on the table before Dimidis. The judge picked it up and paged through it, his expression turning more dour by the moment.
"I would also speak," said Annalia Gray, the school's logic and rhetoric professor. The woman was the only female jordain in the complex and as gifted in disputation as any among them. Usually Matteo listened keenly to any words she had to say so that he could commit them to memory. Though his future depended upon her argument, he could not listen today. Instead, his eyes were drawn by the green and gold figure gliding down the aisle toward the judge's bench. He barely noticed when Annalia Gray concluded, even though she took her seat in a burst of applause.
Kiva, the Magehound, had come to speak for him.
This Matteo had never anticipated, nor was he entirely happy to have such an ally. He listened with growing unease as Kiva repeated what had already been told, leaving out some things that had not yet been reported: Matteo's battle with the wemic in the backstreets of Khaerbaal and the name of the girl he had defended. Tzigone was referred to only as "the thief in reference to the sword", and "the entertainer" when Kiva spoke of Matteo's attack on Mbatu in the Falling Star Tavern. Indeed, to hear Kiva talk, it sounded as if there had been two distinct people.
Finally Matteo was called upon to speak for himself. He bowed first to Dimidis, then to the assembled court.
"All that you have heard against me is true. I thank Master Vishna for his words and for his compassion, but I must stand for my actions and not the circumstances that prompted them. I regret my infractions of jordaini law and will accept humbly whatever penalty this council assigns. I ask only that I might be permitted to ask the inquisitrix a question that has confounded me."
Dimidis looked pleased with Matteo's manner and his request. "You may speak."
Matteo turned a steady, challenging gaze upon the elf woman. "A dragon does not quit the skies to chase a rabbit into the thicket. Why then was the wemic Mbatu, a magehound's right hand and personal bodyguard, in pursuit of a young woman who has been described only as a tavern performer and common thief?"
Everyone in the room looked startled, then intrigued. "A good question,"
Dimidis said approvingly, looking at Matteo with the first sign of real interest.
"Lady Kiva, we are most eager to hear your response. Most eager indeed. By your words, I had gathered that Matteo had fallen in with two scoundrels, not a single girl."
Fury flashed through the magehound's eyes, followed quickly by a flicker of indecision. Her cool mask was back in place so quickly that Matteo, had he not been studying her so intently, would have wondered if he'd imagined her initial response.
"There is nothing to explain," Kiva said in her cool, bell-like tones. "The girl is reputed to have a sharp and clever tongue, and the jordaini were not the only targets of her jests. She insulted Mbatu the day before. The wemic is quick to anger and quicker to attack. He tended his own business, not mine. For that, he has been duly rebuked. As to the misunderstanding about the girl's identity, please recall that I speak your language as a second tongue. I have not the precision of speech that a jordain employs. One scoundrel or two, the girl was the wemic's concern and not mine. I know nothing of her, and that is more than I care to know."
Dimidis looked faintly disappointed by this mundane explanation. "Then I suppose we're finished here. I have little choice but to dismiss the matter. Among the petitions for Matteo's services is one we could hardly ignore. Procopio Septus, Lord Mayor of Halarahh, finds himself in need of counsel."
Matteo's eyes