Mrs. Miller nodded. "I think you just might do," she said. "I think perhaps God brought you here. "
Her husband snorted.
“It would be enough if he brought you to teach my husband manners, but I fear that may be beyond even the powers of a benevolent God,” she said.
“I hate it when you talk like old Reverend Thrower,” said the miller grumpily.
“I know you do, dear,” said his wife. “Mr. Cooper, suppose you did need to practice law, not in Wobbish, but in the state of Hio. How long would it take you to prepare to take the test?”
“I don't know,” he said. “It depends on how far American legal practice has diverged from English common law and equity. Perhaps only a few days. Perhaps much longer. But I assure you, I didn't come here to practice law, but rather to study higher laws.”
“You want to know why you found us all down here at Armor's store?” asked the miller. “We were having a meeting, to try to figure out how to raise the money to hire us a lawyer. We knew we needed a good one, a first-rate one, but we also knew that some rich and secret group in Carthage had already hired them the best lawyers in Hio to work against us. So the question was, who could we hire, and how in the world could we pay him? My wife thinks God brung you, but my own opinion is that you brung your own self, or in another way of looking at it, my boy Alvin brung you. But who knows, I always say. You're here. You're a lawyer. And you want something from Alvin.”
“Are you proposing an exchange of services?” asked Verily.
"Not really," Measure interrupted, rising from his stool. Verily had always thought of himself as rather a tall man, but this young farmer fairly towered over him. "Alvin would teach you for free, if you want to learn. The thing is, you pretty much got to do us that legal service before Alvin can take you on as a pupil. That's just the way it is. "
Verily was baffled. Either it was barter or it wasn't.
The storekeeper spoke up from behind him, laughing. “We're all talking at each other every whichaway. Mr. Cooper, the legal service we need from you is to defend Alvin Junior at his trial. He's in jail over in Hatrack River, charged with stealing a man's gold and my guess is they're going to pile on a whole bunch of other charges, too. They're out to put that boy in prison for a long time, if not hang him, and you coming along here just now– well, you got to see that it looks mighty fortunate to us.”
“In jail,” Verily said.
“In Hatrack River,” said Armor.
“I just rode through there not a week ago.”
“Well, you passed by the courthouse where they got him locked up.”
“Yes, I'll do it. When is the trial?”
“Oh, pretty much whenever you want. The judge there is a friend of Alvin's, as are most of the townfolk, or most of them as amount to much, anyway. They can't just let him go, much as they'd like to. But they'll delay the trial as long as you need to get admitted to the bar.”
Verily nodded. “Yes, I'll do it. But… I'm puzzled. You have no idea whether I'm a good lawyer or not.”
Measure hooted with laughter. “Come on, friend, you think we're blind? Look at your clothes! You're rich, and you didn't get that way from barrelmaking.”
“Besides,” said Armor, “you have that English accent, those gentlemanly airs. The jury in Hatrack River will mostly be on Alvin's side. Everything you say is going to sound powerful clever to them.”
“You're saying that I don't actually have to be very good. I just have to be English, an attorney-at-law, alive, and present in the courtroom.”
“Pretty much, yep,” said Armor.
“Then you have an attorney. Or rather, your son does. If he wants me, that is.”
“He wants to get out of jail and have his name cleared,” said Measure solemnly. “And he wants to teach folks how to be Makers. I think you'll fit right in with what he wants.”
“Come here!” The command came from Mrs. Miller, and Verily obediently walked to her. She reached out and took his right hand and held it in both of hers. “Mr. Verily Cooper,” she said, “will you be a true friend to my son?”
He realized that it was an oath she was asking for, an oath with his whole heart in it. “Yes, ma'am. I will be his true friend.”
It wasn't quite silence that followed his promise. There was the sound of breaths long pent being released. Verily had never been the answer to anyone's heartfelt wish before. It was rather exhilarating. And a bit terrifying, too.
Wastenot and Wantnot came back in. “Horse and mule are unloaded, fed, watered, and stabled.”
“Thank you,” said Verily.
The twins looked around. “What's everybody grinning for?”
“We got us a lawyer for Alvin,” said Measure.
Wastenot and Wantnot grinned, too. “Well, heck, then let's go home to bed!”
“No,” said the miller. “One more item of business we got to do.”
At once the cheerful mood faded.
“Have a seat, Mr. Cooper,” said the miller. “We have a tale to tell you. A sad one, and it ends with all the men of this town, except Armor here, and Measure– it ends with all of us in shame.”
Verily sat down to listen.
Chapter 13 – Maneuvers
Vilate brought him another pie. “I couldn't finish the last one,” Alvin said. “You think my stomach is a bottomless pit?”
“A man of your size and strength needs something to keep the meat on his bones,” said Vilate. “And I haven't figured out yet how to make half a pie.”
Alvin chuckled. But as she slid the pie under the iron-barred door of the cell, Alvin noticed that she had some new hexes on her, not to mention a come-hither and a beseeching. Most hexes he recognized right off– he'd made a few of them in his own time, for protection or warding, and even for concealment and mildness of heart, which made for a deeper kind of safety but were much harder to make. What Vilate had today, though, was beyond Alvin's ken. And since they probably wouldn't work on him, or not too well, he couldn't rightly tell what they'd be for. Nor could he ask her.
Some kind of concealment, maybe. It seemed related to an overlook-me hex, which was always very subtle and usually worked only in one direction.
Alvin bent down, picked up the pie, and set it on the small table they'd allowed him.
“Alvin,” she said softly.
“Yes?” he answered.
“Sh.”
He looked up, wondering what the secrecy was about.
“I don't want to be heard,” she said. She glanced toward the half-open door leading to the sheriff's office, where the guard, was no doubt eavesdropping. She beckoned to Alvin. What went through his mind then made him a little shy. Was she perhaps thinking some of the same romantic thoughts about him that he had thought about her on some of these lonely nights? Maybe she knew somehow that he alone could see past her false charms of beauty and liked her for who she really was. Maybe she thought of him as someone she could come to love, as he had wondered sometimes about her, seeing as how his first love w as lost to him.
He came closer. “Alvin, do you want to escape from here?” she whispered. She leaned her forehead on the bars. Her face was so close. Was she, in some shy way, offering a kiss?
He reached down and touched her chin, lifted her facd. Did she want him to kiss her? He smiled ruefully. “Vilate, if I wanted to escape, I–”
He didn't get to finish his sentence, didn't get to say, I reckon I could walk on out of here any old day. Because at that moment the deputy swung the door open and looked into the jail. He immediately got a frantic look on his face, and scanned right past them as if he didn't see them at all. “How in the hell!” he cried, then rushed from the jail. Alvin heard his feet pounding down the hall as he called out, “Sheriff! Sheriff Doggly!”