"L-Lady Ann—of—Coberly!"
Jacques thumped his head against the side of the doorway.
"I told you to knock off that drivel."
"But—but that's all I know—I swear it! I just got here this morning, too, and took a quick peek at the calendar when I heard all the rumors out among the tents...!"
Jacques shoved him out into the hallway, and stalked back into the room. The Bailiff straightened his collar, but made no move to leave.
"M'Lord," he jibed, breathing heavily, "there's also a rumor that you have no stomach for executing any woman. Can that be true?"
Jacques only scowled in reply, but he knew that this rumor, at least, was true. The last woman had been back in the Fifth Judicial District. A flint-faced murderess with the shoulders of a man. But the horror of firing the coup du mort into her naked, contorted body still came back to haunt his dreams. For weeks afterwards he hadn't been able to touch the women who came so eagerly to his tent during the wild execution night Festivals.
The Bailiff's coarse voice continued to prod at him:
"I'm sure you'll remember this one, once you see her! I've just come from watching her being dressed for Court!" The Bailiff's bloodshot right eye winked suggestively. "My duty, y'know, to protect their Judicial Highnesses by checking for concealed weapons."
"Get out of here!"