Emperor Euphrates sighed. Ah, the grandeur of formalities! Who needed those foolish idols anyways? He'd broken one of the silly things himself once, right in front of everybody, and had the devil's own time talking himself out of it.
That had been only two hundred years ago, and he still winced every time he thought about it.
Even Borla had been temporarily at a loss what to advise. It simply was not a thing to be done, ever. You could deliberately destroy the idols of your enemies, but that was an entirely different proposition and not the same thing at all. This had been a stupid blunder, obvious to all.
Finally, on Borla's advice, he had called in the Royal Sorcerer, also known as the Fort Rune Tale Heir, since it was an inherited position. He was a filthy, huge, grossly obese individual of exceptionally obnoxious character who went by the unlikely moniker of Fatoo the Dread, and the obliging fellow was persuaded to conjure up a bit of hocus-pocus to make a bigger and better statue of the idol appear in a cloud of ashes and smoke, right where the old one had smashed.
Fatoo had done him one better, nearly breaking his own foot when he'd accidentally dropped the new statue on it in the process of letting it fall from it's place of concealment beneath the voluminous skirts of his bulging belly, after poofing up a huge cloud of noxious, stinking smoke. No wonder the fellow always smelled so bad. It was rumored that he never bathed, either, and there was no need of chicken entrails to figure that out.
Fatoo had meant to stoop halfway into a squat and 'give birth' to the idol while the spectators' view of him was temporarily obstructed by smoke. At least the replacement idol had been provided with a nice cushion for it's unexpected fall, and all of the moaning and groaning which Fatoo had suddenly exhibited had been a very mystical and convincing performance and well worth the ordeal, especially since it was Fatoo's foot and not the Emperor's.
Better yet, Fatoo had limped for such a long time afterwards that the Royal Sorcerer's hobbled gait had provided a convenient stigma with which to draw away any possibly adverse attention from Emperor Euphrates' blunder in breaking the original idol in the first place. It was all so simple; Fatoo's limp was a sign from the gods. So much for idols.
Emperor Euphrates finally looked up, and cleared his throat noisily.
"Because of the seriousness of the accusations, I, Emperor Euphrates, chosen of the gods, even I, shall now declare the outcome before all."
He paused, and looked round upon all present. Ampho remained frozen, as if he were no more than a dumb idol himself. Borla was merely silent and watchful as always. Let them all watch and learn.