Defense Team

"Missus Gale, I think we should--"

She cut him off, strangely polite despite the firm interruption. "It's Miss."

"Pardon me."

"Quite alright, Mr. King. Leo, if I may? Please, continue."

He nodded, straightening his tie nervously. "It's just that I think we should think about the ramifications. The implications. The potential for criminal prosecutions."

"They're persecutions, Leo. Even the officer with me agrees."

"Yes, well. About that. Are we certain he has legal authority? I believe we're a good distance away from his constabulary."

"He assures me that his tin star is good throughout the whole of the land. I've no reason to disbelieve him."

At this, the large, vain man behind the desk ran a hand through his thick mane of blonde hair. His nervousness was obvious.

"What you're proposing, Miss, is a bit unorthodox, you see."

"Go on." Idly, she scratched the ears of a small dog that sat in her lap.

"You're not from here. The marshal, there, he's from Quadling, unless I miss my guess as to his accent," at this, the law man nodded. King continued, pointing "That gentleman, he has the lean look of the foothills about him."

"No, I'm from the plains. Worked the fields all my life. This is my first adventure!" The tall, slender man smiled beatifically.

King leaned in to whisper to Miss Gale, "I fear he's simple."

She bristled. "Mr. King. I'd be obliged if you'd mind your manners. It is you who came to us, you'll recall."

Chagrined, Leo King, edquire looked away and picked imaginary lint from the lapel of his sport coat. Clearing his throat and continuing, the large man looked back at the motley trio. "Nevertheless, Miss Gale. You are, best I can tell, from beyond our humble borders. You travel in the company of a farmhand and a lawman, yet, word has spread of your lawlessness."

"Clearly, that's why we're open to hiring an attorney. We'd heard you're simply the best."

He puffed his chest. "Well, I don't like to brag..."

"Then you shouldn't. Do you wish to join us, or not?"

"Are manners something you're unfamiliar with in...where are you from, anyway?"

"Wamego."

"Is that near Mifkets?"

"No, it's between Manhattan and St. Marys."

"I see." It was clear that he didn't.

When she offered no further explanation, he continued. "Madam, I'm afraid I can't be of assistance in this matter. You've made quite the powerful enemy of a rather strong political player in Winkie."

"I'm afraid I've no idea where Winkie is."

"Near Ugabu. A dreadful place." He shuddered visibly.

"So, it's true then." She tried to hide her anger, but her temper was a fiery, burning thing. "You are a coward."

"Now see here--"

The law man moved to stand between the lawyer and the lady. His steely gaze halted the larger, much more physically powerful lawyer midway to standing and mid-sentence. Mr. King's puffed indignation deflated as he sank back into his leather armchair.

Leaning around her guardian, Miss Gale met the attorney eye to eye. "Any barrister worth his weight would leap at the chance to defend a wayward traveler. I'm unfamiliar with the ways of your nation, and I assure you, the allegations against me are unfounded and slanderous at best."

"My dear, you've been accused of murder. This man should take you into custody to stand trial!"

Her other companion interjected. "Everyone with eyes can plainly see there was no mens rea. No intent. It cannot be negligence, good sir, because there was not control nor any means to reasonably predict the events. Miss Gale had no idea the whereabouts of the deceased, and if she did, she had no means by which to affect the outcome one way or another. While an affirmative defense may be arguable, I think it best to present a case of natural disaster and complete lack of culpability. In any event, I'm sure you'll agree, no true purpose is served by her sitting in a holding cell and being unable to raise any sort of bond or bail, given her legal status as an immigrant and lack of information on our customs, both legal and folkway. Neverminding the stance that this, at best, is a civil tort and not a criminal matter at all." The farmhand spoke with such authority and clarity that utter silence was the only response from the room. Nervously, he broke the shocked silence, "But what do I know, really? I confess to being a bit of a dullard."

Barrister King finally fought through his shock. "I'm sorry, but did you say you're a farmhand?"

At this, the girl nodded. "Mr. King, meet Mr. Crow. I believe he's prepared a brief for you. Now. Will you help us?"

"You are aware that the family of the deceased is...connected. The matron, Elphaba, is a notoriously cruel woman. I've heard she bathes in blood! I must admit that taking your case would make me every bit the target of reprisals that you yourself have become. This prospect is unsettling."

At this, the hardened lawman nodded. "She has me."

The lawyer poured himself a brandy, quietly contemplating. His hands were shaking as he took a sip. "You have heart and mettle, I'll give you that, sir. Perhaps we can move for summary judgment. I can pull strings to get us on the docket, but we'll have to hit the road for the capital at once."

The small band of soon-to-be-friends had no way of knowing, huddled as they were in Leo King's den, that the wicked western Thropp cartel was listening to every word.