Part 33:
Behind Chevalier Montreux came his mage, Vanderhiln, shackled between the last pair of Chevaliers.
"Oh good, the group's all here. Let the raping and pillaging begin!" Alistair said over-brightly.
Wynne fixed him with a stern look, and he shrugged, "What? I meant him, not us."
"You want to rape the Chevalier? I wouldn't have thought you were so open-minded," Zevran said cheerfully, leering at Alistair.
"That wasn't what I meant!" Alistair told him, his voice rising at the end.
Adjudicator Benoit raised her hands for quiet, sitting calmly on the tall-backed chair that had been brought up for her use.
"Chevalier Fontaine, please state your charges, and the background behind them," Adjudicator Benoit told him.
"Yes, Honorable Adjudicator." He paced in front of her. "I was approached two days ago by a Guardsman, who informed me that Chevalier Montreux had taken a Noblewoman captive, and was brutally beating politically valuable prisoners."
"She's no noble—" Montreux argued, taking a deep breath to continue.
"Silence!" the tiny woman's voice cut into his tirade before it even began. Her voice was many times larger than she, echoing off of the stone walls with surprising authority. "You will not speak again until spoken to, or I will have you gagged and shackled."
He sank back and pouted, crossing his arms.
"Continue," she told Fontaine.
"I was already on my way to his castle when I found an elf woman walking towards Demarra. She was badly beaten. Although I know it's his right to beat his chattel, it is my right to treat her injuries, once he has dismissed her, as he had. She revealed that she had been beaten for being unable to convince the captured mage to allow her to cut off her hair."
"Indeed?" the white-haired woman's brow rose, and she shifted, her eyes straying coldly towards Montreux. "That's a bit peculiar, I should think. But do continue."
"With some further inquiry, I figure out that this was the Noblewoman the Guardsman had informed me of. That was when I sent for you, so that we could investigate this matter together."
The elderly woman nodded, then turned to Chevalier Montreux. "And what is your answer to these allegations?"
"She's not a Noblewoman," he sneered. "I am well within my rights here."
He said no more, and the Adjudicator turned to Wynne. "Is she your companion?"
"Yes, Adjudicator Benoit," Wynne told her. The elderly woman's eyes warmed—if only a shade or two—at the courteous response.
"And is she of Noble blood?"
"She is, Adjudicator," Wynne told her.
"And Montreux was aware of this, to your knowledge?"
"Yes. He was informed. However—" She was cut off as the formidable old woman held up a hand to silence her.
"Montreux? How do you answer this?"
"She's a mage. In Ferelden, all mages give up all claim and rights when they are taken into their circle."
"How admirable that you know Ferelden law, Chevalier Montreux. I find myself curious, though. Are we in Ferelden, then?"
He shifted for a moment, his eyes seeking allies amongst the Chevaliers. He found none, swallowed, and responded, "No, Adjudicator."
"Why, then, do you see fit to quote Ferelden's laws to me?"
"She is a citizen of Ferelden. By their own laws, she's no noble!" he protested.
"Shall I, then, take it upon myself to follow Ferelden's laws?" she asked him. "Or should I do so only when it suits me? Or only when dealing with Ferelden natives?"