"Esther M. Friesner - Troll By Jury" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

"Of course you are." Duke Janifer was not really listening. He continued to pace the hall. Unlike his
forefathers, he never sat upon the intricately carved and gilded Siege of Justice when hearing a case.
Some said it was because he was a true friend of the people and disliked setting himself too far above his
subjects. Others, including his old nurse Wylalie, said it was because he was a fidget, born with that
condition commonly referred to as "shrews in your trews."



The duke paused in his peregrinations, coming to a halt before Ethelberthina. The girl stood between
Ludlow and Bursar Tailings, with a look on her face even stonier than the troll's calcified countenance.
"You're a little young to be in court, my dear," Duke Janifer said kindly. "I take it you're a witness in your
mother's case?"



"The Netherrealm I am!" Ethelberthina snapped. Her mother clapped a hand to her bounteous bosom
and gasped loudly. "I'm here as a complainant. I wish to file suit against Goodwife Eyebright for
Conspiracy to Coerce Matrimony, which you'll find in the Scrolls of Sardor, Volume 23, Section 5,
Column B, Paragraph 16, first tried before Duke Merriam the Bizarre in the case of Vila Grubneck vs.
Rittana, the Landlord's Beautiful Daughter. Oh, and I also want a divorce."



Duke Janifer stared at the girl, an unreadable expression on his face. "Er, yes," he said. It was something
many grownups found themselves replying to Ethelberthina because they simply could not think of
anything else to say.
"Actually, I believe the correct term is an unfasting, since Bursar Tailings and I have only entered into a
state of betrothal rather than an actual marriage. I suppose we could ignore it, but I don't want some silly
little legality messing up my life at a future time when I might actually want to wed."



"Er, yes," said the duke again. "And Bursar Tailings would beтАФ?"



"Me, Your Grace," said the troll.



The duke peered at the bursar of Overford Academy as if hoping to thus convert him into something
other than a troll. "How old are you, my good fellow?" he finally asked.



"Two hundred eighty-seven come next Sandpit Day," the troll replied.



"And the girl isтАФ?"