"Someone from Deese House, more likely! Anyone there would tell tales to protect you!"
"And how would I have sent word to them, ten leagues away, that now was the time to go to Irga's house and poison her drink?"
"Magic! Magic again!"
"And would magic tell them also where to find Irga's house, which none of us ever visited? Would magic carry someone there, unseen and unheard by man or beast across all the farms in between? Woman, if I had magic like that, I wouldn't bother with such petty stuff; I'd have magicked Irga and Losh and you yourself straight to the bottom of the Midworld Sea. I certainly wouldn't waste time sitting here arguing with you."
The throng roared with laughter at that. One of the laborers who had worked on Deese House's walls commented loudly that with that sort of magic the wizards of Deese wouldn't have needed his help to restore their house—and could have saved themselves a good bit of money. Students speculated that, with that kind of power, Eloti wouldn't have had to spend so many moons teaching them; she could simply have magicked the knowledge into their heads.
"Sure as nine hells," Zeren roared above the clamor, "she could have magicked your stupid mouth shut!"
That set everyone bellowing with laughter. Wotheng rang repeatedly for order, finally gave up, and let the crowd laugh itself tired.
Nima, blushing red as a ripe apple, looked about her for help. No use: nothing could have been heard in that din anyway. At length she sat down, muttering bitterly to herself. Her husband huddled down in his robes and looked elsewhere.
As the noise dwindled, Wotheng rang again for silence. This time the crowd obeyed. "Has anyone else questions for the Accused?" he asked.
"I do!" snapped Oralro, striding forward. "Lady, if I dare use the term, I truly do resent the slanderous suggestion you have made against this goodwife here and against the House of Yotha besides. Slanderous, I say, to accuse any in our herd of most vilely and lecherously bewitching a young virgin!"
Several in the crowd snickered. Irga blushed furiously, and didn't look.
"Worse still to accuse us of any dealings with poison—and this is not the first such vile accusation! Nay, nor the first instance of harm come to the innocent through the careless witcheries of Deese House and its wizards. Was not our own stonemason crushed to death while working upon their walls?"
"His own damned fault!" yelled one of the workmen in the crowd.
Oralro went on as if he hadn't heard. "And more slanders: when their own workmen were poisoned with bad food, did not these Deese wizards hasten to blame our brotherhood, even though the baker's carter confessed to the deed?"
"He named one of your under-priests, too!" shouted a peeved guardsman.
Oralro sailed on, blithely unheeding. "All this harm has come to the vale with the presence of these Deese wizards! Has not Yotha warned and warned his faithful herd, repeatedly, of this danger? Have we not done our best to warn others, though they, being blinded with greed for petty wonders, have not heeded us? Have we not warned the folk of the vale that these wizards of Deese are careless in both magic and morals—allowing male and female priests to sleep under the same roof—"
"Is this your question?" Eloti snapped, spots of color showing in her cheeks.
"No it isn't, and I'm not finished!" Oralro stamped a heavy foot. "We have maintained, as Yotha bids us, that the gods are troubled by such proud carelessness. We, m'lord, are troubled also by such immoral quickness to slander others for the harm done by Deese's wizards. We are also appalled, as all good folk should be, to hear from this witch's very lips her contempt for the law! Did she not boldly admit to breaching the law against image making? And did she not blatantly claim before you all that the law itself was wrong, and should be abolished? What can we expect of those who have such contempt for law itself?"
"Common sense," Eloti answered. "Next question?"
The crowd brayed with laughter.
Oralro purpled slightly, took a deep breath, and preached on. "More, she claims, as you heard, that drawn or graven images have no power—more, that objects in themselves have no power, nor even purpose. I say before you all, this is a most blasphemous lie!"
The audience rumbled to itself, wondering.
"Of course objects have purpose! Anyone who looks at them knows that. A sword, for example, has no purpose except to kill people."
"Bull turds!" Zeren bellowed, springing to his feet. "I've used my sword to chop wood, make fire, and stir soup!"
"A wagon," Oralro continued fiercely, "has no purpose save to draw loads."
"Or to burn for firewood, or rot and feed wood ants!" Zeren retorted.
Wotheng wearily clanged his bell, but said nothing.
"I do not say objects cannot be put to other uses than their obvious purpose," Oralro conceded, glaring daggers at Zeren. "But they rarely are. When one sees a shovel, one may safely claim that it is to be used for digging."
"Or for clanging an enemy over the head!" yelled Zeren.
"When one sees the image of a god, one may safely claim it is used for prayer and worship."
"Or for scaring money out of the gullible!"
"And when one sees an image of a living person, one may surely claim it is to be used for purposes of magic!"
"Or for kissing and sticking under one's pillow!"
Wotheng clanged the bell repeatedly, quelling both the shouting match between Oralro and Zeren and the appreciative laughter and cheers of the assembly.
"Sir Priest," he insisted, "get to your question for the Accused."
"Why, 'tis only this. Witch, does or does not the House of Deese bear ill will toward the House of Yotha?"
The crowd hushed, listening.
"Certainly," said Eloti, "and for good reason."
"Oh, indeed?" Oralro smirked. "Such as our complaints against your careless use of magic? Such as our warnings against your blatant immorality? Such as our thwarting your attempts to ill-wish our priesthood? We could say much about those reasons."
"Not at all," Eloti replied calmly. "We have but one reason: you attacked us first."
"You've no proof of that!" Oralro shouted, stamping again. "You've nothing but your own vile slanders! Only your word, against that poor innocent woman whose son you endangered, saying there's no harm in images! You expect folk to trust in that, do you, when all knowledge and even legend say otherwise? Do you—"
"Certainly not," Eloti snapped, rising to her feet. "I can put that to proof before all this gathering. Lord Wotheng, bid Losh come forward."
The crowd hushed in shock. Wotheng rubbed his jaw and gave her a long look. "Losh, come forward," he said at last.
"Lord Wotheng, please hand him a pen, some ink, a piece of blank parchment, and a board upon which to brace it," said Eloti.
Wotheng raised both shaggy eyebrows, but handed over the requested items to Losh. "Hope you know what you're doing," he murmured.
"Now, Losh," said Eloti, smoothing down her dress, "I pray you, draw a picture of me."
The whole assembly drew its collective breath. Gynallea waved frantic signals to her husband, who ignored them. Sulun and his friends looked at each other in bewilderment. Eloti smiled prettily.
"Go on, Losh. As I've said, things have no power—not until people give it to them."
With shaky fingers, Losh sat down and did as he was bid.
The minutes crawled. The audience crept closer, trying to peer over Losh's shoulder at the growing image. Those who could see any of it agreed that Eloti's passing judgment was right; Losh did indeed have great skill at drawing. There, that was surely the line of Lady Eloti's skirt, real as life; and there, yes that was the very angle of her wrist. Slowly the form took shape, and then the face, smiling confidently. The crowd murmured softly in appreciation. Losh drew on, sweat beading on his forehead and trickling down his neck.