A crack reverberated throughout the hall, a light appeared for the smallest of moments - perhaps it was the other way around, yes, with first the light and later the crack - and complete silence fell. That silence lasted for exactly five seconds.

Arianna’s advocate squealed in joy, a fragment of the chair on which the prosecuted had sat not so long ago having hit him on the leg, and the already unconscious woman’s body fell to the cold, hard marbled floor. He was just opening his lips, for such happiness could not be contained and had to be spread – his client had been attacked magically not once, not once but twice, which was clearly the result of either governmental inability to protect de Saindon, or that government’s itself desire to harm her, and an obvious solution to the mentioned problems was to seek financial compensations and a political asylum in some other kingdom – when the man stopped dead, his mouth suddenly clamped shut. Such was his reaction to what he saw that he didn’t even stop to think about what to do if it was indeed the government that wanted to kill his client. The Comers’ from Duriel eyes, those dark and tall and cloaked figures’ eyes, now shone. Radiated, even.

Arianna fell from her chair in a very nasty way, yes, but it was neither broken limbs nor a forming itself big green bruise on her forehead that made Master Pillet’s cheek muscles twitch – in fact, those broken bones and contusions were a good thing, in general, to be used in any future court proceedings. No, what had Master Pillet worried, apart from the fur coat, was a little cut, a scratch, really, on her chin. A scratch that bled red.

The Comers from Duriel had to be, of course, stopped, and stopped quickly, but somehow none of the numerous Great Grand Hall guards felt the urgent need to throw themselves in their path. Vampires be vampires, but none had ever been mentioned in their contracts. Assassins, yes, thieves and perhaps small armed forces, but not vampires. The guards determinedly stayed put and tried to merge with the wall, hiding from sight any weapons they might have. They did not, however, feel any inner from staring pointedly to the thin lines of the still present samples of the magical community.

Those Magicians and Magi, and Witches and Sorceresses looked away, some uncomfortable, others indignant at the idea of them attempting to hurt something that might actually hurt them. One by one, they dematerialized – even the very pretty and now very red sorceress managed it this time – but not before narrowing their eyes at the High Officials.

The High Officials tried to make themselves invisible in their deliberatively carved armchairs, some wiping with their sleeves their sopping forehead. But apparently the invisibility plan was not a good one, as soon both the wealthier artisans and merchants were demanding a governmental reaction. The High Officials looked at one another in panic, but, none wanting to be thought of as unable do deal with crisis, each man started elbowing the ones sitting at his either side. They elbowed most actively, enthusiastically cheering one another on, until at last a High Official in a bottle green robe elbowed by mistake the Great Grand Duke.

The Great Grand Duke of Mithril furrowed his brows angrily, but as there was very little time and the situation dire, he postponed the order of arrest for such horrible familiarity indefinitely. Instead, he turned his most honorable and enlightened gaze toward the sleeping Great Grand Judge, the bored Lady Cyan, and the very much amused Lady Crimson. That helped him none at all, and the Great Grand Duke’s head was starting to hurt from the intense search for a remedy to the present situation.

The Great Grand Duke was not the wisest of men, yet he did have a certain subconscious gift of throwing off any unpleasant responsibilities from his person when needed, and now a bell pealed in his aching head. It rang and rang, at first quietly, but when he decided that he indeed did not want Arianna de Saindon to loose all her blue blood to some almost-but-not-humans, it started clanging. And so he thought and thought, and when finally the bell was too loud to bear, he slammed his ham-like fist to the arm of his throne and stood up and roared once more. When his High Officials started roaring with him also, he turned to face them, and roared at them. They stopped.

He straightened, shoulder pulled back and none too small belly thrust out, and proclaimed that he who saves the Lady Arianna would earn his, the Great Grand Duke’s, most honorable and enlightened gratitude, the hand of his lovely dumpling – that is, his lovely daughter, and half of his kingdom, with the dragon pillaging – visiting – gratis. He then closed his mouth, which remained open even after the speech ended, because he was a bit taken back by what he had just said. But the earsplitting noise had ended, and the Great Grand Duke decided that he was happy with himself. He had shown himself a good, just ruler, mos honorable and most enlightened, willing to sacrifice everything for the good of his people and, above all, clearheaded in the eye of crisis. Under a long, curly moustache and a longer and curlier even brown beard, he smiled contentedly.

The Great Grand Duke’s voice had the good quality of muffling anything, even tumult and chaos caused by an upcoming vampire attack, and so soon a group of brave young men was ready to charge. Enthusiasm regarding half the lands was great, toward the gratitude and dragon neutral, while the face of the lovely dumpling – daughter – they tried to wipe from their minds for now. The Great Grand Duke, as was commonly known, not only roared like a wounded boar, but like a boar he looked, and the hopefully resting in peace late Great Grand Duchess, who had been a third cousin of her husband’s once removed, and also incidentally a niece of his half-brother, did not vary much from the mentioned husband in looks. And not many a daughter, in this case that of the Great Grand Duke, could claim such a startling resemblance to her parents. But, as was already said, brave volunteers were found.

“Garlic! Garlic for sale! The smelliest in Mithril garlic for sale! Guaranteed to work against all vampies! Garlic!”

The vendor, who not so long ago was thrown out of the Great Grand Hall, in some unexplained fashion once more smuggled himself in. This time he pushed a cart full of the reeking vegetable, calling to all to buy. He was the centre of attention to not only the wealthier merchants and artisans, but also to some of the scurrying to him High Officials, all of whom threw not copper, but silver coins at him. Those who had not yet had the chance to buy the garlic and paste a wide grin on the seller’s face, time by time looked up anxiously to the podium. There glimmered swords, wands, and even a pitchfork.

The brave volunteers fought for their title, having previously cast away the image of the Great Grand Duke’s daughter from their minds. Each of the fighters already saw himself as the Great Grand Duke of Half of Mithril, rich and powerful, even the farmhand who had also successfully slipped pas the guard. Such visions added courage to their hearts as they jabbed at empty air, because the Comers from Duriel were yet a good fifty steps from them, though one must admit that those were clear, blocked by nothing fifty steps of hungry eyes shining like orbs.

“The trauma, oh, the trauma… Nothing, nothing shall compensate the stress, nothing…” whispered Master Pillet to himself, and nervously massaged his temples. He had long since left the podium and took refugee among the High Officials, but his hand shook as he searched for a handkerchief to blow his nose. “A prosecution, yes, a court prosecution I shall give them! For the stress, for the trauma… Such vileness! Such Vileness and injustice in the Mithrilan Great Grand Hall of Higher Fairness and Justice!” He paused for a moment. “Maybe I shall be able to buy that fur for my wife… maybe I shall, maybe… A little gold, for all the stress, hmm? A little gold, for all the stress and trauma, hmm, Pillet?”

“With life! With life!” bellowed the Great Grand Duke, who no one know how had a mug of ale in his hand. “With life, you sluggard, you loafers! You slugs! With life, briskly, if you want half of Mithril and the hand of my little dumpling-poo!” His fist with a dull sound landed on the wooden surface of the table which had been brought so that he could put down his mug. “Fight! Fight! Beat the Duriels! Fight the Duriels! Show them mithrilan swords! Show them! Fight! Show! Beat! Show those whatsis, those wandies and that-that, that potchafirky, that! Fight! Kill! Kill! Fight!”

“My lord, my lord, Your Great Grandness Highest…” mouthed that High Official who had dared elbow the Great Grand Duke. “My lord, my lord, these are delegates, these Comers! Kill Your Greatness should not, not for anything in the world… To overpower, yes, overpower a bit, but not kill, not kill, Your Greatness Grandness! Delicately, delicately we have to-”

“Fight! Fight for your sove- sova – sove - raian… Fight! Kill! Briskly, briskly, with life, slugs! Kill! Kill! Kill! Show the power of mithrilan swords, and wandies and pitchaforkies! Kill! Fight! Kill, I say!”

“Dear Lady Cyan, but this is absurd!” said the Lady Crimson, and the other woman lightly nodded her head, suppressing yet another yawn. “But so very amusing…” They both cast a quick glance at the sitting between them Great Grand Judge, who was snoozing happily. The Lady Crimson evidently wanted to continue conversing, but was not given the chance; at that precise moment the crowd realized the doors of the Great Grand Hall of Higher Fairness and Justice were closed, and that they could not be opened.