When the attendant came in to pick up the dishes, Cadorna suggested he tell the cook to start learning more quickly if he didn't want to be replaced.

"Yes, Honorable Tenth Councilman." The attendant quickly wiped off the table and turned to leave with Cadorna's dirty dishes.

"Wait, boy. How many cases for review this session?" asked Cadorna.

"Two, I believe, sir. The watch warden would know for sure."

"Obviously he would know, but he's not here, is he? It wouldn't hurt for you to pay attention to such details, would it?" Cadorna snapped. "In any case, remind the watch warden that I like to have spectators present. Have him admit any who are waiting and drum up a few more if he has to. I'll be ready to start the next session in fifteen minutes."

The attendant bowed awkwardly, taking care not to drop the dishes, and then took his leave. Cadorna used the time to check his attire. He firmly believed that intimidation was critical to passing judgments, and that a person was always more intimidating when he looked his best. Finally Cadorna lifted his sleeve to check his poison dagger. It was held in place by a gold armlet, an heirloom that featured the Cadorna family crest a snake with its tail coiled around a weaver's shuttle. The dagger was loose and at the ready. Cadorna also believed that a man in his position could never be too careful.

When Cadorna finally entered the hearing room, he was pleased to see that it was almost full. Crowds always made cases more interesting, and he felt his growing reputation deserved maximum exposure. The next case, according to the watch warden, involved two feuding groups of clerics. Each band held that the other was stealing its worshipers, but Cadorna was only half listening. Instead, he was watching the three the mage had spoken about.

The tavern worker was a huge man, dressed in a loose tunic. With his knotted hair and baggy clothing, he appeared at first glance to be nothing more than a giant dullard, but Cadorna could see from his forearms, the breadth of his shoulders, and his posture that the man was incredibly well muscled. The woman was almost as tall as the tavern worker, and she looked strong enough and fit enough to take on almost any man. Cadorna shivered. He was himself quite tall, but he hated big men, and he had no use for large women. He preferred women who were petite and meek. The cleric of Tyr was a handsome, well-built man, obviously powerful, but nothing like the big tavern worker. His face was that of a young man, yet his hair was silvery white, the color of a much older man's. Cadorna stared intently at each of them, hoping to detect something of their magic, but he had no such ability.

He straightened in his chair. If he was going to use these three to his best advantage, he must make a good impression on them. He directed his attention to the cleric who was testifying. "What was that you just said, Canon? I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Dessel, your honor. Canon Dessel. Honorable Councilman Cadorna," the cleric pleaded, "these fights between our two faiths must come to a stop. No one profits from such bickering."

"Yes, I quite agree, and I believe I have just the remedy." Cadorna had heard just enough of the case to have an idea. He stood up and swept his arm from one party to the other, in a grandiose gesture. He'd seen the First Councilman make the same motion before, and he was very taken with the effect. "A cleric from each temple will be dispatched immediately to spend thirty days helping heal the brave watchmen who suffer injury while guarding the walls of the city. For every report of disputes between the two temples that reaches the council, another cleric from each temple will be assigned to thirty days of healing service. In this manner, each side will be encouraged to put aside petty bickering or have little time for the maintenance of its own temple. Of course, in the meantime, you will both be serving the needs of our city."

The crowd began murmuring. For a moment, Cadorna worried that he may have gone too far in his judgment. Then he saw the tentative nods of agreement and smiles on people's faces. Several clerics from each of the temples actually walked, albeit reluctantly, to the center of the room and shook hands! Cadorna beamed with pride at the sound logic of his decree.

"The Tenth Councilman has spoken" the watch warden declared. He ushered the canons of both temples away and then returned to announce the principals in the next case. "Shal Bal of Cormyr, Tarl Desanea of Vaasa, and Ren o' the Blade of Waterdeep will stand before this session of the council to be judged in the matter of disorderly conduct and brawling within the city limits of Civilized Phlan."

Porphyrys Cadorna gazed down from his place on the dais in the most condescending and accusatory manner he could muster. "This is the council chamber of the city of Phlan," said Cadorna in his most official-sounding voice. "You have been brought here by the Watch Guard for wrongdoing in our fair city. Rest assured that I will hear out what you have to say and carefully review the nature of your case before passing judgment."

Ren was barely aware of what Cadorna was saying. He was busy making a mental note of the full names and home grounds of his two newfound companions. He was still wrestling with the idea that Shal might be somehow related to Tempest. Related or no, he was stunned by her looks and more than a little taken with her candid, bright-eyed manner. Likewise, Ren had been impressed by Shal's cleric friend, Tarl. Tarl hadn't had any reason to jump into the midst of that fight. In fact, he could probably have sought sanctuary at his temple instead of facing judgment.

For Shal, everything about the night had seemed strange and artificial, like a play she was watching from the wings but which she could begin acting in at any time. When the guards first caught her in their wretched nooses, Shal had been terrified. She had seriously considered pulling out the Staff of Power to learn exactly what it could do. It was the relative calm of Tarl and Ren that had kept her from doing something foolish. Neither of them had seemed particularly concerned about being captured. She also felt reassured by the councilman's manner. She was impressed by the fairness of the decision he had imposed upon the clerics, and he had promised fairness in reviewing their case. Whatever the sentence, she hoped it wouldn't take long to fulfill. She had hoped to travel to Denlor's tower the next day, after a good night's rest. This could hold her up considerably.

Tarl had himself observed the clerics of Sune and Tempus arguing in the streets over converts and then watched with interest as they brought their argument before the night council. He, too, was impressed with Cadorna's judgment because of its twofold prospect for good-helping the temples, while at the same time helping the city. Somehow, though, the wisdom and fairness of the decision didn't ring true with his gut intuition about Cadorna. Tarl had seldom gone wrong trusting his first impressions of people. He was as comfortable with Shal and Ren as if he had known them all his life, but he had no such sense of comfort in the presence of Cadorna. He was conscious of the man's posturing, something common to political leaders, and there was something else that made him feel very cool toward the man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"So, you three have been picked up for brawling at the Laughing Goblin Inn. How do you plead?" intoned Cadorna.

"Guilty, Councilman," said Ren, holding his head high. He reasoned that if their sentence were too severe, he could always use his lockpicking skills to escape. The worst sentence meted out in Phlan was being thrown over the city walls at night, but that possibility seemed remote, considering the relatively minor nature of their offense. They would undoubtedly be held in a cell for at least a little while before anything so drastic happened, and Ren could get them out.