Chapter 23 - An Embarrassment of Attorneys

Susan was still quietly seething as they left the Palace. Unfortunately, just when a few moments to catch her breath would have been helpful, she was about to receive a bit of kerosene thrown on the fire. This in the form of Cheery, who was waiting for them with a puzzled expression.

"Erm, Lady Sto Helit?"

Susan stiffened slightly. She was hearing that title far too frequently today, and each instance had been less pleasant than the last. "Yes."

"A runner came by from the clacks with a message for you." Cheery scratched her beard. "Only I don't see how he would know to deliver it to you at the palace."

Cheery held out a folded paper, which Susan took as if it were envenomed, and then began reading. Myria watched with concern as Susan's eyes, then jaw, and finally hand tightened, crumpling the paper in the process. "That poisonous little bastard."

"Sorry?" Cheery blurted at the same time Myria asked "What is the matter Susan?"

"I don't know how he did it, but I know he's responsible for this. He must be."

"Susan, what is the matter?"

"The Council of Burghers of Sto Helit has sent word that they have several matters of extreme delicacy that have come up, and they need my personal intervention, in person, to resolve them. It seems members of the council have already come to blows over whatever the matter is, and the head of the council has done all he can to resolve the issue, but there's nothing for it but a personal appearance."

Cheery pushed her helmet back and scratched her forehead. "You mean… you have to actually rule? And this is a bad thing?"

Susan gave Cheery a look. It was uncanny, that look.

"Indeed. Rule. And your damnable ruler did this, to get me out from under foot. And by the looks of it, this has been brewing for some time. Oh he will pay for this."

Cheery's eyes widened a little and she made pointed movements with them over Susan's shoulder, whereupon turning Susan found the two Palace Guards standing with narrowed eyes, and no longer smiling.

"Hah." Susan turned and poked a finger at the air in front of them. "Tell me it's the first time anyone's ever cursed the Patrician's name within your earshot, and I'll call you a liar. Don't pretend to be dismayed! In my domain, prevaricators are put in detention."[1] She heard Cheery make a slight choking noise and added bitterly, "Don't worry sergeant, they wouldn't dare detain me. It would cause an international incident." She gave an ugly little laugh, then sighed and deflated slightly. "Myria, I don't know what to do here. I can't just ignore this." Susan waved the wadded paper. "Well, I suppose I could, but Sto Helit could end up with some sort of stupid domestic unrest or worse,[2] and then I would begin to feel guilty. And I despise feeling guilty."

"But of course, you must go."

"Yes. I must." Susan muttered to herself for a few moments.[3] "But that leaves you wandering about the city by yourself trying to find an advocate, and me unable to serve as your peer representative if I am not back before the hearings."

"I see."

Cheery cleared her throat. "I'd be happy to escort Lady LeJean around the city."

"Susan wheeled on her. "Oh I'm very sure you would. I would wager that you even have orders to do so?"

"Susan!"

"Myria don't be obtuse. You don't actually imagine that the sergeant here has all the free time in the world to follow you around the city, by happenstance do you?" The only real question in Susan's mind was whether it was at the behest of Vetinari or Vimes. For that matter, how could she trust that Vimes wasn't following Vetinari's orders? How much of this was Vetinari's machinations? Susan found herself actually wondering if the Knäckes were in on it, and stopped that chain of thought right there. A person could go mad, trying to worm their way through what Vetinari was capable of. She shook her head. "Well?"

"Susan I must protest."

Cheery raised her hands. "No, it's alright. Lady Sto Helit is partly right. The commander didn't exactly order me to keep an eye on you, but he made it sound like a really good idea." Cheery looked from Myria to Susan, "But I actually would enjoy it. Myria is… interesting to be around. Otherwise, I'd be stuck in the lab with Constable Igor, waiting for something to blow up in our faces, or up to my elbows in someone's entrails trying to figure out what killed them. This is a vacation by comparison."

Myria's brain took a moment, with sadistic glee, to paint a picture of what Cheery had just described for her to view. It was most disturbing. Entrails should be inside and arms outside of the body. She felt slightly ill.

"Myria?"

Myria shook herself, banishing the picture. "I will be alright, Susan. What could be safer than having a member of the Watch as escort?"

Susan arched an eyebrow. "I can think of dozens of things, offhand, including juggling knives. But I suppose there's no help for it. Jonathon is not well enough to be about, and Jessica is needed at the bakery, no matter how she protests. That leaves you, constable. You will take care with her, I trust, or I will be very displeased."

"Yes ma'am, I mean Lady."

Susan sighed again, and took Myria by the arm to lead her several paces away. "Mind what you say around her. She may seem pleasant, but she isn't your friend. Understand? She is just as likely to be reporting everything you say back to Vimes, as anything else.

"I do not believe that is her purpose, but I will follow your advice in this. Thank you Susan."

"Be good. Don't do anything… unnatural, especially around wizards. They are very… touchy when non-wizards practice things that look like magic." Susan raised her voice for Cheery's benefit. "Well I must be off on this fool's errand. First I have to tell Madame Frout that I shall need an indefinite number of days off."

Susan's mouth twitched. "I'm sure she will be crushed."

By mid-morning Cheery and Myria could tell it was not going to be a good day

First they went to the Guild of Lawyers to get a list of attorneys who specialized in privilege. Their first inkling that things were not right with the world was when the clerk, a sallow weasel-faced man, handed it over while muttering 'much good it'll do you'.

His words turned out to be prophetic. The first attorney informed them that he was unable to take on any new cases at this time.

The second was going on vacation.

The third was attending his grandfather's cousin's sister's funeral.

The fifth, upon hearing Myria's name, had them bundled out of his office, almost ejecting his own clerk in the process.

"I'm beginning to believe there may be a problem."

"You think? I'm beginning to get the urge to arrest the next attorney that I see."

"Arrest them? For what cause would you do so?"

Cheery thought for a second. "Resisting arrest."

Myria's brow furrowed. "I am not sure that is a valid cause. It would appear to create a circular logic conundrum."[4]

"I don't care what kind of drum it is, it will make me feel better. And I suspect the commander would approve."

By lunchtime, they were back at the bakery, hungry and in a foul mood, with Jessica serving them. Myria filled Jessica in regarding the meeting with Vetinari.

The young girl whistled. "Vetinari sounds like he really got under Susan's skin. I would have paid money to see them in a real argument." She reconsidered. "Then again, I'm not sure I'd wanna be in the same city as them in that situation. I've seen what Susan can do with a poker."

"With a what?" Cheery looked intrigued. Jessica and Myria glanced at each other for a moment before Jessica responded.

"Just a dumb joke. So other than that, it sounds like you got some good info. Why don't you look happy? Is it because Susan got called away?"

"No, I understood why she had to leave. I am discontented because I have been unable to locate an attorney thus far. Each one we have contacted has seemed unwilling to represent my interests."

"Oh. Yeah I can see how that would cool the oven some. Never really had anything to do with attorneys myself, but da doesn't like them one bit. Say…" Jessica's eyes went up and left. "That reminds me of a joke I heard him tell. Do you know what they call a group of attorneys?"

"Is the correct answer 'a group of attorneys'?"

"No, a group of attorneys is called an 'embarrassment of attorneys'. Get it?" Jessica looked back and forth between Myria and Cheery. Cheery seemed to have something stuck in her throat, while Myria had her head tilted to one side and a thoughtful expression.

"No… I am afraid I do not understand."

It's like a 'school' of fish, or a 'murder of crows' right?" Jessica blew a stray hair from in front of her face and some of her smirk faded. "It's supposed to be funny."

"But why is a group of fish called a school? Surely there is no similarity between a group of fish and Susan's classroom. And crows do not murder, they do not have the ethics to contemplate it, nor the means to carry it out. And why should one be embarrassed to-"

Jessica's hands lifted to her head, grabbed two handfuls of her own hair, and then slid them slowly over her face, dragging her cheeks down slightly in the process. "Never. Mind. Remind me to never tell you a joke again. Ever. Never."

"I am sorry."

"Stop apologizing, Myria, it's getting on my nerves, alright?"

"I am-"

"Arrrgghh!" Jessica growled through gritted teeth and stomped off, muttering.

"I do not believe I handled that well."

Cheery shrugged. "It wasn't a very funny joke."

"Then perhaps my response was appropriate?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

By midafternoon, Cheery was all for calling it a day. "Myria, I just don't think this is working. We must be doing something wrong."

"We have but one more name on the list. Surely we can at least determine what the cause is?"

"Fine. Last one, last hurrah."

Titweal, Advocate At Law, JD, BTWBS, CYA read the shingle. Upon entering the offices, they found it to consist of a very small and shabby waiting room with a young man seated behind a desk with a single door behind him.

"Excuse me sir, we are seeking the services of an advocate."

"Your n-n-n-n-" he swallowed, "name miss?"

Myria looked at Cheery, who looked back.

"Is it necessary that I tell you my name at this time?"

The man stopped, looking as if she had struck him in the forehead with a halfbrick. "Uh… I don't kn-n-n-n- know."

"Do you mind if I wait outside?" Cheery asked Myria, then added in a quieter voice "Listening to him try to answer questions makes my head hurt worse than Agi Hammerthief."

"Of course."

After a few more painfully delivered questions, Myria found herself in the back room of the office, sitting across the desk from a thin, pale man of advanced years who had wispy hair and a perpetual expression that said "I have seen hell, you are a sorry substitute."

The man's watery eyes took in Myria. "You are, no don't tell me, Lady Myria LeJean."

She took a deep breath. "Yes I am."

"Oh dear. I was afraid you would find your way here."

"Yes we are-"

"Looking for an advocate, to represent you. Would you like a biscuit?"

"No, thank you."

"They are quite good. I have to soak mine these days. Bad dentures." He opened his mouth to illustrate, showing yellowed and cracked false teeth.

"Mister Titweal, I have come because-"

"Because you are working your way down a list provided by the Guild of Lawyers, Attorneys, and Shysters. And you have been turned down by everyone up to me, and I am the last one on the list. And my dear, it is a shame that you are here, because I am afraid I am a very bad attorney."

"But… this makes no sense."

"There's a reason I was the last one on your list. I can barely see to write a brief, you know." He pointed at his eyes. "And I can't even afford a decent journeyman these days." He yelled through the office door. "Ho Butters, where is my tea, you lazy lob?"

"Ss bbb b b right the- the- there."

"See what I mean? He can barely read too. If he wasn't my sister's boy…"

"But you are our last hope!"

"Then your hope should consider hiding. Under a blanket. With a soft teddy." He thought for a second, and reddened. "The stuffed kind."

Myria sighed. "Regardless, we must have some representation. And you clearly need the custom."

"Wrong again, my dear. I'm afraid I would not touch your case if Jason and the Homogonauts were offering me the Golden Cheese to do it."

Myria's legs refused to remain seated for some reason, and propelled her to her feet as she threw her hands into the air. "I do not understand, why not?"

"Because if I do, being eaten alive by a monster from the seafloor and digested over the course of decades would pale in comparison of what would happen to me." Titweal leaned in and murmured conspiratorially. "You do understand that you are facing Slant. Right? Been an attorney for centuries? Heads the guild? Has final say in what journeymen get what assignments? Can make or break an attorney's career with the flexing of a single moth-eaten finger? And, I may add, holds my retirement pension in his formaldehyde-stained hands."

Myria felt suddenly very light, and odd. "I… see. Yes. I begin to see." She sat down heavily. "This is incorrect. I must have an attorney to represent my rights. But because of who I face, there is no attorney who will represent me. How can I seek justice if there is none to be had?"

Titweal gave a short, humorless laugh. "See there's your first mistake. You're looking for justice among lawyers." He leaned closer. "This isn't about justice, it's about the law, and who does a better job digging up some bit of precedential manure so baffling that the magistrate confuses it with brilliance." Titweal leaned back with a sigh. "I used to be a genius with 'em. Once I got Vetinari to pardon a client by proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my client absolutely committed the crime, but that there were extenuating circumstances involving a live ferret and the Seamstresses Guild." He smiled and shook his head. "Good days, those were." Titweal looked suddenly startled. "Blast. Where is my tea? Butters!"

Myria felt something forming. An emotion. The situation was all so… frustrating. And… her eyes wanted to leak. And her lungs wanted to gasp. And she could feel her sinuses becoming slightly congested. She considered fighting it, telling the body to go peddle its chemically induced emotional reactions elsewhere.

And then she remembered something Jonathon had told her, only a few weeks ago… that maybe the stupid body knew what it was doing after all.

So she went with it. She had what some might have termed a "hissy cow," but with more woe and less rant. The judges gave her a grudging 8.9, and she found herself being consoled by an anxious Titweal trying to ply her with tea and biscuits, while he was being grilled by a very angry Cheery demanding to know what he had done to her.

"Nothing!" Titweal protested, then looked ashamed. "Well, I suppose that's the problem isn't it. Look, milady, will you stop sobbing? Look, I do know someone. But he's a bit of a fruitcake, understand. And on top of that… well, there again, maybe he'd be perfect for your purposes."

Myria found the hissy cow winding down, leaving her feeling puffy and with a bad case of the hiccoughs. Meanwhile, Cheery took full advantage of the situation, and got the name and address of the possible attorney before hustling her outside.

Once they were out of sight of Titweal's office, Cheery gave her an appraising look. "That was impressive, Myria."

"I did not cause myself to cry by design." Cheery raised her eyebrows. "Well, perhaps I did, encourage myself, somewhat. Have you never wept out of frustration?"

"No can't say that I have."

"Then what do you do when you are upset?"

"Let's just say it's usually someone else that ends up crying." Cheery patted her axe. "If they're still conscious, that is."

[1] Second grade, not Sto Helit. Which tells you a lot about where Susan's true priorities are.

[2] Watching a city state fall into civil unrest is like watching cat juggling. It's cute and horrifying at the same time, and you just know it's going to end in tears.

[3] The comments, most inaudible to Cheery, included Patricians, donkeys, The Poker, and some very unlikely personal preferences. Myria didn't understand much of it, which is just as well.

[4] It may sound stupid, but in fact, police have used similar justifications the world over for arresting people for "pissing off an officer of the law".