Note # 1: Yes, Hjordis, I did a little research before writing the trial scenes. The objections came from:

http://faculty.ncwc.edu/toconnor/objecton.htm

and the elves' names came from:

http://www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Tower/1312/elfnames.html

Note #2: I'm not a lawyer, and I was never pregnant, and I'm flattered that you guys find my writing so convincing. :-)

Attention: I'm so very sorry for having taken so much time to upload this chapter! I never meant to leave you hanging: it's just that I've re-written the testimonies of Moraine and Stony over and over again, trying to make their description of the granary as understandable as possible. This is the best I could come up with; I also drew the plan and uploaded it to my website: you can view it at:

http://coisasqueamoemcharmed.vilabol.uol.com.br/Imagens/Fanfics/TDA01.jpg

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When Cole calls Tadrien to testify, a wave of surprise passes through the courtroom. Heads are turned and necks are stretched to look at the elf as he leaves his seat at the back of the room and walks towards the witness' seat. A deep silence slowly falls over the crowd, as Tadrien politely nods at the judge, takes his seat and looks at Cole.

"Can you state your name for the records, please?" says Cole.

"I'm Tadrien from Lothlórien, son of Elril-Gar and Fiondra."

"What's your occupation, Tadrien?"

"I'm a merchant."

"For how long have you been making business in the troll's village?"

"About five years."

"So, I suppose you go to the Market Square quite often?"

"Yes. Every week."

"I see." Cole pauses briefly before proceeding. He wants to make sure everyone in the courtroom is paying attention to Tadrien's next words.

"Tadrien, have you seen the defendant at the Market Square during the past few weeks?"

"Yes," says Tadrien. "We've been meeting at the Market Square every week for the last two months."

"Can you tell this court what your relation with the defendant is?"

"We're cousins," says Tadrien. The effect of his words is tremendous: commotion sweeps the courtroom as the trolls start to talk excitedly among themselves. Even the prosecutor looks perplexed.

"Order!" shouts the judge, banging the gavel. "Order in the court!"

When the trolls finally calm down, Cole turns to Tadrien again and asks:

"Can you be more specific?"

"The defendant is the son of Gladriendra, the older sister of my great-grandfather Amon."

"Tadrien, isn't it a problem for you that the defendant doesn't exactly look like an elf?" Cole asks.

"You don't recognize an elf by his looks, counsel," says Tadrien, gravely. "You recognize an elf by his soul."

"So, you'd say that the defendant..." starts Cole.

"He's one of us," says Tadrien.

Cole doesn't need to look at Sarsour to know that his friend is smiling. In his entire life, Sarsour was never "one of us" to anyone. His father stopped giving him the little attention demon parents usually give to their offspring when it became clear that Sarsour's powers wouldn't develop any further. Never having joined any of the several gangs, brotherhoods and factions of the Underworld, Sarsour went through life as an outcast: having his family come to the trial to support him is a whole new experience for him.

"But," Cole pursues, "you're aware of his demonic activities in the past, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," says Tadrien.

"And yet you and your family are willing to receive him among you?"

"Yes, we are."

"May I ask why?"

"I understand no one can change their past," says Tadrien, gravely. "Asking my cousin to do so would be irrational; the only thing we could ask him -- and we did ask -- was to not do evil any more."

"So," says Cole, "in order to be received among the elves the defendant couldn't do evil any more?"

"Sure."

"And did he agree with it?"

"Yes, he did."

"Am I correct to assume that, by aiding and abetting with the robbery, the defendant would be breaking the promise he made to you, thus ruining his chances of moving to the elves' town?"

"Absolutely."

"Thank you, Tadrien," says Cole. "No further questions, Your Honor."

The judge dismisses Tadrien as the prosecutor doesn't want to re-examine him. Even though no troll will ever admit it, they feel intimidated by elves.

The next one to take the witness' seat is Flint, the troll Sarsour was looking for when he went to the granary on the day after the robbery. Cole almost regrets having summoned him as a witness: Flint seems to be convinced that this trial is a scheme plotted with the sole aim of taking money from him, and no matter what Cole asks, he stubbornly keeps coming back to the fact that he owns nothing to Sarsour. When Cole finally manages to make him confirm that, debt or no debt, Sarsour believed Flint owned him money, he quickly dismisses the witness, afraid that Flint's harping on the same string over and over again will end up distracting the jury.

The prosecutor, who obviously knows Flint's temper, dismisses the witness without re-examining him, and then it's time for Moraine to testify.

The judge arches his eyebrows when he sees Cole walk towards the defendant's seat and come back carrying a chair, a blackboard and a piece of chalk.

"Counsel, what is this?" he asks, as Cole puts the blackboard on the chair, propped on the chair's back, so that the jurors can see it.

"Visual aid, Your Honor," says Cole, matter-of-factly, taking a couple of steps back and verifying that the blackboard is straight.

"Why did you bring all this stuff with you instead of making a requisition to this court for what you needed?" asks the judge, with a hint of impatience.

"You mean, I could have made a requisition?" says Cole, looking convincingly abashed. "My mistake..." he says, waving his head sadly, while Phoebe bites her lips and lowers her eyes to hide her amused expression. When Cole asked her to bring this blackboard with them to the court, he knew very well that the court could provide it, but he didn't want the prosecution to have any hint of what he intended to do. And apparently, it worked out pretty well, because right now the prosecutor is rolling his eyes and exchanging an ironic look with the judge.

As soon as everything is set, Cole turns to Moraine and asks:

"Moraine, how long have you been working at the granary?"

"Twelve years," says Moraine, proudly.

"So," says Cole, "I assume it'll be easy for you to describe the place for us, won't it?"

"Sure."

"Good," says Cole, walking towards the blackboard. "Now, I've seen the granary from outside," -- now it's Leo's turn to hide a smile -- "so I'll tell you what I could see from where I stood and you can correct me if I'm wrong, okay?"

"Fine," says Moraine, shrugging.

"From what I saw," says Cole, starting to draw on the blackboard, "the front of the granary faces north. There's this long wall facing east, the one we can see from the courtroom's door." -- he pauses and looks at Moraine -- "Am I right so far?"

"Sure," says Moraine, rolling his eyes. "How hard can it be?"

Someone giggles in the audience, and the judge bangs his gavel, frowning, but it doesn't seem to bother Cole.

"The west wall, on the other hand," he says, seemingly very interested in his drawing, "is considerably shorter than the east one, because the granary's back is wider than its front." -- he finishes the drawing and turns to Moraine again, pointing at the L-shaped figure he has just drawn -- "So far, so good?"

"Yup."

"Good," says Cole, smiling. "Now, the doors: there's this double door here, on the north wall," -- he draws a door on the top of the L -- "and this one here..." -- he starts drawing another door on the west wall, next to the bottom left corner of the L, but Moraine interrupts him.

"This door has been sealed," says the troll. "We won't be using it again until next spring."

"But it looks..." Cole starts.

"From the outside it looks fine," says Moraine. "But we've sealed it from the inside four months ago. The room it leads to is being remodeled."

"Oh!" says Cole, frowning slightly. "Okay, then." -- he writes "sealed" next to the door he has just drawn.

"Then how does the food enter the granary?" he asks. "Because the other door is used only by customers who want to buy food, right?"

"Exactly," says Moraine. "We have built another door on the east side; that's the one we've been using for the last four months."

"I didn't see this door," says Cole. "Is it here?" he asks, drawing a door on the east side of the building, next to the bottom right corner of the L.

"Yes," says Moraine. "You didn't see it because it leads to the woods."

"Right," says Cole, slapping his forehead. "The woods!"

He writes the word "woods" next to the door, then turns to Moraine again and asks:

"Is there any other door?"

"No," says Moraine.

"Okay, let's see what we've got inside the granary," says Cole. "When people enter through the main door -- the big one facing north -- what do they see?"

"A counter," says Moraine. "It separates the customers' area from the storage area."

Cole draws two horizontal lines parallel to the North wall, representing the counter, then asks:

"And past the counter...?"

"First you have the sorting area, where the different kinds of grains are sorted and then taken to the appropriate rooms," says Moraine, "then there's a corridor with doorways on each side that lead to the storage rooms."

"All right. A corridor," says Cole, drawing two vertical lines representing a north-south corridor that divides the lower part of the L in two. "What do you have on this side?" he asks, pointing at the space on the left side of the corridor, next to the sealed door.

"One big room, the one that's currently being remodeled," says Moraine, and Cole draws a horizontal line separating this room from the triage area.

"At what height of the corridor is the door to this room?" Cole asks, pointing at the wall that separates the corridor from the room he has just drawn.

"Uh, halfway from the sorting area," says Moraine, and Cole draws a door on the midpoint of the wall.

"Anything else on this side of the corridor?" Cole asks.

"No, that's all," says Moraine.

"What about the other side?" Cole asks, pointing at the east end of the L.

"You have two doors on this side of the corridor," says Moraine, "each one leading to one storage room."

"Like this?" Cole asks, drawing a horizontal line that divides the east end of the L in two, and adding two doors to the right side of the corridor, each one leading to one storage room.

"Yes," says Moraine.

"Anything else?"

Moraine studies Cole's drawing for a while, before waving his head.

"No, that's all," he says.

"Thank you, Moraine," says Cole. Then, turning to the judge: "No further questions, Your Honor."

"That's all you've got?" the judge asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes," says Cole.

"All right, your case, your call..." says the judge shrugging. He's clearly unimpressed by Moraine's testimony, and so is the prosecutor, who dismisses the witness with a gesture.

Cole doesn't acknowledge his oponent's disdain as he calls his last witness. Stony is another of the constables that arrested Sarsour: having seen Moraine's innocuous testimony, he leans back on the witness' seat and looks at Cole with an air of a superiority.

"Stony," says Cole, "which door was used by the thieves when they broke into the granary?"

"The east door," says Stony. "The one that leads to the woods."

"This one?" says Cole, pointing at the said door. As Stony nods his head in agreement, he writes the word "thieves" next to the door.

"Was it the same door you and the other constables used as you entered the granary on the day you arrested the defendant?"

"No," says Stony. "We entered through the double door, on the north side.

"And where were the three of you when you saw the defendant?"

"In the customers' area," says Stony.

"Okay," says Cole, drawing a mark above the counter and writing "C" next to it. "And where was the defendant?"

"At the opposite end of the corridor," says Stony, "next to the door."

"This one?" says Cole, pointing at the door to the last storage room on the east side of the corridor, the room that has the door that leads to the woods.

"Yes," says Stony, and Cole draws a mark in the corridor, next to the door, and writes the letter "D" next to it.

He moves the blackboard slightly, making sure it can be seen by everyone in the courtroom.

"According to Rocky, when the defendant saw you running towards him, he tried to run away. Is that correct?"

"Yes, it is."

"Where did he run to, Stony?"

Stony leans forward and looks at the blackboard.

"He ran towards that door," he says, pointing at the door to the largest storage room, the one who's being remodeled.

"Right," says Cole. "And what did you do then?"

"We went after him," says Stony, "and we captured him there."

"Hum!" says Cole, looking at the blackboard and frowning. "According to this drawing, though, the defendant was much closer to the door than you were. How did you manage to get there before he reached the exit door?" he asks, pointing at the door on the west side.

"We didn't have to," says Stony. "It was a dead end; there was nowhere he could go from there."

"Well, according to Moraine's testimony there was actually an exit door right here," says Cole, pointing at the said door.

"But it was sealed," says Stony, impatiently. "You have just written it yourself!"

Cole gives the blackboard a puzzled look.

"But he could've opened it, couldn't he?"

"Do you understand the meaning of the word 'sealed'?" snorts Stony. Cole seems to be taken aback, and the prosecutor chuckles slightly. "Not closed, not locked, but sealed! Sealed with big, heavy boards, and lots of boxes piled in front of it. It just couldn't be opened!"

"I'm sorry, Stony, but I have to disagree with you on this one," says Cole stubbornly. "You see, I was at the Market Square and I saw this door, and it didn't look..."

"From the outside it looked normal, you stupid!" yells Stony, losing his patience. The prosecutor is openly smiling now, loving the sight of his opponent making a fool of himself. "But you didn't see it from the inside! If you had been inside that storage area, you'd know that the only way out was the other door, the same one the thieves used! Only someone who had never been in that storage room would think..."

Stony stops short and his jaw drops as he understands what he's just said. Much to Cole's credit, he manages to keep a straight face as comprehension sinks in over the entire room. Only when he's sure everyone in the courtroom has understood the implications of Stony's words does he turn to the judge and says, smiling:

"The defense rests."

The prosecutor is so stunned that he doesn't even re-examine Stony. He dismisses the witness with an absent gesture, with his eyes still on Cole and a look of bewilderment on his face, and it actually takes him a few seconds to regain his wits and stand up to make his closing speech.

After he's done, Cole takes a deep breath and stands up. He walks slowly towards the middle of the room, looks at the jurors and starts his closing speech.

"When my client came to my house asking me to represent him," he says, "I must admit that I, too, thought he looked as guilty as possible. I didn't need to listen to the prosecutor to think he was guilty. I didn't need the details of this case. All I needed to do" -- he turns to Sarsour and gives him an apologizing smile -- "was to look at him."

Cole walks towards Sarsour, and stands next to him.

"My client is a demon," he says. "Well, actually, half demon. But what difference does it make when he looks like a demon? He could be only 10% demon and he'd still look guilty as sin. Because he's a demon, and demons are evil. Nothing can change that, right?"

The jurors give him curious looks, but say nothing, and Cole proceeds:

"Not quite. People change. Humans change, trolls change, elves change. Even demons can change. As Tadrien said, you can't ask a guy to change his past. That's the sad thing about free will: we have to live with the consequences of our acts. That's the price we pay for being free. But," he says, starting to walk towards the jury again, "a guy can change his future. Although there's nothing he can do about his past, he can do something with his future."

"That's why I'm asking you now not to judge my client for his demonic past. Judge him for what he is now: someone who has recently found out he has a family, and is doing his best to live up to his family's name. Someone who has come to this village for no other reason than to meet his cousin, a merchant most of you know, some have even made business with. Someone who was so unaware of the functioning of the granary that, when faced with the need to run for his life, didn't go to the door that the thieves had used the night before, the one that would have led him to the safety of the woods, but rather tried to use the only door whose existence he was aware of, the one he could see from outside."

Cole pauses briefly before proceeding, saying gravely:

"If my client had committed the crime he's being accused of, he'd have, in exchange for a few bucks, ruined the chance to have the one thing he has been yearning for over more than a hundred years: a family. People he actually belongs with."

He bites his lower lip, considering what he's going to say next.

"There's something about kin. They can be a pain sometimes. They can be demanding and nosy and annoying; they can drive you crazy; they can make you feel that if you don't put some space between you and them you're gonna end up killing someone."

Cole spreads his arms and says, with a smile:

"But you know what they say: can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em. It took my client more than a century to find someone he belongs with, and I can assure you that, now that he found them, he'll do whatever it takes to deserve their love and respect, even if it means giving up the only lifestyle he's ever known. He wouldn't have jeopardized his chances for all the money in the world."

Cole looks at the jurors for a moment, waiting as the meaning of his words sink in.

"Thanks for your attention, ladies and gentlemen," he says. As he turns around and goes back to sit by Sarsour's side, he can hear the jurors leaving the room. There's nothing neither him, nor the prosecutor can do now. The only thing both parts can do is wait for the verdict.