and five halfdeads, as well as perpetrating the termination of two cattle with the help of your underground circle. A separate charge of maiming and/or permanently injuring nine of Trench’s people will also be reviewed. The last and most important charge is one of murderous intent against the vampire race. You are accused of being the ring leader of thousands of guerillas compelled to kill vampires, steal cattle, and retake the city.”
Poe felt ill. How could she defend herself against such fiction? Everything was untrue, except for the killing and maiming part. But guerilla fighters bent on retaking the city? She looked back at Maple and Sainvire who gazed encouragingly at her but offered nothing.
“How do you plead?” asked Gwendolyn impatiently, her bosom jiggling with every toss of hair.
172
Rono/That Which Bites
Poe shook her head and blew out a terribly shaky breath. She prayed for strength to her Patron Saints of Decent Lawyers, Atticus Finch and Clarence Darrow.
“Before I answer any of the charges, I’d like to know if you make concessions for self-defense.”
Umberto Dali, who hadn’t uttered a word out of extreme boredom, grunted in the affirmative and added in a disinterested voice, “Technically you’re food, and food cannot defend itself. But go ahead. Give your explanation so I can finish the second season of Deadwood.”
“Yes, sir. I did kill those vampires and halfdeads, because they were trying to kill me. There were no guerilla groups in there. Just my dog and me. As you already know, vampires are way stronger than us humans, so it’s romper room logic that I was outmanned, outnumbered, overpowered, and all that.”
She exhaled, conjuring the famous Scopes Monkey Trial in her mind. “So for the first charge, I have to plead not guilty.”
“Then why were you at the Eastern Columbia Building?” Umberto asked gruffly.
“Because my two friends were up there,” she said as her eyes flashed at Trench. “He had them bled.”
When her voice shook, she cleared her throat. “One of them was already dead. The other died during the melee. His men were waiting to ambush me.”
“So you’re telling me you went there by yourself?” Raspair asked.
“Yes.”
“Trench, you told us that you came upon a dozen guerilla fighters.”
“I was told that, Your Honor.” He coughed. “I believe they all got away, except for this one who was picked up by Sainvire here. He now claims her as his, by the way.”
173
Rono/That Which Bites
“But there was only me!”
“Liar!” Trench accused.
“You’re the liar, dick!”
“Enough!” ordered Raspair. “Sainvire, did you see anyone other than this girl?”
Sainvire stepped forward. “Other than Trench’s men, Julia was by herself.”
“What? You’re going to believe him?” Trench bellowed indignantly. “He’ll say anything to protect his little fuckwit mistress–”
Two gasped in shock. Gwendolyn, who had looked almost as bored as Umberto, now sat up straighter, looking over the dark-haired Julia more keenly. The other was Poe, who was nobody’s mistress. At least not yet!
“Watch what you’re saying, Trench. The Council can sniff a lie a mile away,” Sainvire warned. Only the hard glint of his liquid eyes betrayed his feelings.
“Did you personally see any of these twelve vigilantes, Quillon?” asked Dali, his deep-set eyes penetrating Trench’s.
Quillon hesitated. He seemed to recall that Umberto Dali could whiff out a lie like a trained hound. His unmatched skill was invaluable to the Council.
“No. I didn’t. But my men did.”
“Did you bring any of these men to appear before us?” Rodrigo asked, detecting the lie as well.
“No. I didn’t think I’d have to.” He shook his head.
“Well, about two dozen of your people were nice enough to follow us here. Maybe some of them can vouch for you,” supplied Sainvire, the tension easing from his voice. “They’re still outside, I’m sure.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Quillon sneered.
“Look at the facts. She admitted to me and my 174
Rono/That Which Bites
associates that she is leader to thousands of underground fighters bent on dousing sleeping vampires with garlic water.” Quillon laughed sardonically. “She even said she was a queen to them.”
To this, Poe paled, feeling sick. She was glad not to have eaten the nice dinner prepared by the wonderful library chefs. It would have tainted the white marble floor and further prejudiced the Council to her detriment.
“Vell, vhat do you say about zhis, girl?”
Gwendolyn asked impatiently, her well-endowed bosom heaving dramatically. Really! No need for the Jell-o effect.
“I, I lied to Trench. There is no guerilla movement.”
“More lies.”
“Quillon, if you open your mouth again during this girl’s testimony,” Dali roared, “I will personally eject you out of here