“A matter he told this court of only after the fact,” Giovanni interjected.

“He is now based only a few miles from the location of Heldridge’s haven,” Mero continued. “Perhaps Heldridge seeks distance, as many sons seek from their fathers. It seems a matter between the two of them. I suggest you remove the bounty on Heldridge, set him free, and let Menessos deal with him.”

“Ha!” Giovanni barked. “It was Menessos’s Erus Veneficus that was the target. He will not be impartial if he is to judge Heldridge!”

“Heldridge has admitted his crime. What need of impartiality is there?”

Giovanni cleared his throat, a sound like gravel in a blender. “It has been centuries since anyone has dared invoke the name of the shabbubitum to this court, and according to the old accounts, over two millennia since they walked the earth.” His eyes flicked downward and he frowned thoughtfully.

Mero knew the dramatics were a bad sign. He started to interrupt, but on-screen Heldridge was screaming and waving his arms. The Excelsior had obviously turned the volume down.

“Their truth-finding abilities are legendary,” Giovanni said. “Perhaps we need the rectitude attributed to those three bitches. Perhaps it is time we recover the precision our justice had in antiquity.” He lifted his gaze. “I say send for them.”

“You’re mad,” Mero whispered.

Giovanni spoke, but not to Mero. “Give Heldridge what he wants. Unshackle the shabbubitum. Subject him to their methods, then, if he’s honest, send them to Menessos.”

Mero shifted, uncomfortable in his chair. “Your eagerness gives me caution, Giovanni. The shabbubitum were bound for a reason.”

“This young fool has requested it!”

“It seems overindulgence to exploit their unique skills upon a task such as this.” Mero had to regain the advantage. Nothing good would come of the Excelsior consenting to this ludicrous idea. “Heavy-handed wastefulness would not reflect well upon our Lord.”