I should warn you that some of this is pretty violent stuff. I generally try to keep the site family-friendly, but there really wasn't any way around it this time.
I got the idea for this story when talking to a man I know that used to be in law enforcement. He was telling me about the most horriffic thing he saw while on the force. It made me realize that pretty much everyone in law enforcement has such a story. Sceva, being like a regional marshall, would be no different. This is his story of the most horrible thing he encountered. It takes place when he is about 22 years old, 20 years before he meets and becomes part of The Chosen. It's not a story that he talks about readily, for reasons you'll discover as you read it.
Sceva squatted, scanning the ground intently. The rabbit had died slowly. It was missing one front paw and both eyes, and had most likely bled to death. He felt the same low boil, the same rising of his hackles, as he recognized a now-familiar technique in the rabbit's death - its rear feet had been tied together to keep it from running away. The rabbit's body was cold, but it was still mostly intact. That meant this had been for entertainment, not dinner. It also meant it had not yet been picked apart by the scavengers - which meant he was getting close.
Sceva stood, his green eyes checking the sky in vain for some hint of sun. The dark clouds persisted in all directions, and rumbled with an angry mood. "You can say that again," he mumbled.
As he walked back to his horse, the heavy, brooding skies finally unleashed their promised downpour. He drew up the hood of his cloak and remounted. He rode southwest towards the mountains. It would be the best place to find shelter for himself, and the most likely location of his quarry. As he rode, he went over everything he knew one more time, looking for something he might have overlooked that might help him find them more quickly, before they could strike again...
Mistress Diana was working the front counter of the apothecary when the man came into the shop. He was a man of average height, with sandy blond hair and a full beard. He wore the plain brown homespun cloth of a villager, but not in a style that she recognized as one of the local towns. He also wore the dust of a long road.
"How may I help you, sir?"
"Good Lady, I have urgent need of your most potent remedies. A woman of our village was attacked, and I have come for something to stop the infection that has set into her wounds. I also seek a way to remove a curse placed upon her by those of Sater."
At the sound of the name, she stopped and looked up from her parchment. "Excuse me, please. I will be right back."
Diana disappeared through the door into the back of the shop. She returned a moment later, accompanied by an elderly man in long robes of deep green.
"I am Brother Marvik. How was she attacked?"
"Sir, we aren't entirely sure. Her husband returned from the fields to find the deed already done. She had been repeatedly violated, and her unborn child ripped from her body. Our priests were able to save her life and stitch her many wounds, but an infection has set in now."
"Where did they take the child?" asked Diana, her voice breaking.
"Ma'am, they didn't. We found the child mutilated and dead in the corner of the room."
Brother Marvik turned to Diana with a grim look. "Please bring the Knight Commander. I think he should hear this."
Diana nodded, wiped the tears from her eyes, and ran through the front door.
Brother Marvik turned and began pulling containers from the many shelves on the wall behind the counter. "Is there anything else I may get you, my son?" he asked without turning.
"No, sir. Not unless you have something that will erase memories."
Brother Marvik stopped and turned to face the messenger, his arms full of vials and his eyes wet with tears of his own. He slowly shook his head.
* * *
The Knight Commander listened in silence, his stone-like gaze fixed upon the messenger as he finished the story.
"...and that is why we suspect a spell or curse is upon her," he concluded. The messenger sat nervously in front of the Knight Commander. Retelling the story was obviously still powerfully upsetting.
Knight Commander Berican turned to his right. In the corner of the room stood a young man of about twenty, dressed in brown leather armor under a cloak of deep green. He wore calf-high leather boots and a long sword at his side. At the Commander's nod, the young man strode quickly from the room.
"Thank you, sir," Knight Commander Berican said. "The apothecary should have things ready for you by now. We appreciate you telling us what you know, and we will have our man follow to deal with these monsters."
Sceva staked Victor near some trees and removed the bit so he could graze. He patted the horse's neck. "We'll probably be here a while, so enjoy the break. I'll find some water when we leave." Victor snorted gently in agreement and went to work on the grass at his feet.
The apothecary's preparations were doing quite well in healing the infection, and Sarah would definitely survive now. Devin, her husband, had not left her bedside since the attack. Sceva couldn't say that he blamed the man. "The hard part is still ahead," he thought. "How do you pick up and move on from something like that?" He dreaded what would come later, when he couldn't put off the interview with Sarah any longer.
Sceva turned and looked at the small house. It was a small, one-room house, typical of a frontier farm. The wilderness was already trying to reclaim the land in the short time that both its occupants had been staying in town. He strode slowly to the door, scanning for clues. Both Devin and the local sheriff assured him that nothing had been touched other than those things necessary to get Sarah the medical attention she needed.
There was no sign of a struggle outside or of the door having been forced open. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. He quickly stepped back out and held onto the door frame to steady himself. He managed to take another few steps into the grass before vomiting.
He sat down in the grass and used his waterskin to wash his face. He had been around blood and death, both during his training and in the years since he became a knight. He had worked in the infirmary during his first aid training. He had seen severed limbs. Hell, he had severed lots of things himself during battle. It seemed to him that the small cottage contained too much blood for a single person's wounds, much less wounds that proved non-fatal.
He returned to the door and steeled himself for what lay inside. The nausea washed over him again as he entered, but this time he managed to control it and look around. The house had been ransacked. The table and bed were the only furniture still in one piece, the table because of its weight and the bed because of its utility. It appeared that the destruction of the house's contents took place before or during Sarah's assault, meaning there was more than one assailant involved. There were several footprints visible in the blood on the floor. Sceva knelt down to study them. Most were typical of the townspeople, but at least one was different. It appeared to be a soft sole, like some kind of moccasin or deer skin boot.
As he looked up from the footprint, a gleam caught his eye. He reached under the bed and retrieved a silver necklace from against the wall. It was short, either a choker necklace or for a child, and made of simple links. The clasp was broken, probably from where Sarah had broken it off the neck of an assailant. Opposite the broken clasp were two silver ornaments separated by a red bead. The ornaments were each about two inches long, tapered to a point at the bottom, and curved slightly inward so they resembled fangs. Sceva placed the necklace in a pouch and returned the pouch to a pocket inside his cloak.
As he stood and turned to leave, he saw the wall next to the door for the first time. A giant eye of Sater stared at him from the victims' own blood.
Sceva walked slowly out of the house toward Victor, his head down. What drives people to such cruelty? In the four years he had been a knight, Sceva had seen a lot of things. Every crime he saw had one thing in common: a lack of respect and regard for other people. But this... this was different.
He walked along, thinking, then suddenly stopped short. He had almost stepped in vomit. He was about to just go around and move on when something made him stop again. He looked back at the house, now about 30 yards away. He angled back toward the house, moving slowly, scanning the ground. Soon, he found what he was looking for - the evidence of his own sickness, just a few yards from the front door. Obviously, someone else had found the scene overwhelming, too.
Victor snorted as Sceva approached, a gentle reminder of the promise he made earlier.
"Okay, okay," Sceva replied, "you could at least give the the chance to forget, you know." He replaced the bit, returned the grazing stake to the saddlebag, and mounted. "There was a stream between here and Turin, you can stop there. Besides, I'm in no hurry to interview Sarah."
* * *
As Sceva left the infirmary in Turin, he reflected on what he knew so far. The interview had gone about as well as he expected, which is to say, not very well. Sarah had confirmed that there were several men, possibly as many as six, though she wasn't able - or willing - to remember. The necklace had definitely belonged to one of the assailants. She had gotten it caught on her hand when he threw her onto the bed. She blacked out sometime after they started on her the fourth time and woke up in the infirmary.
He headed for the local sheriff, purely out of obligation. This would not be much more pleasant than the interview with Sarah. The sheriff's office in Turin was just outside the marketplace. Sceva found himself hoping that maybe the man was out harrassing beggars and children. Unfortunately, he was in his office.
"Good afternoon, Sheriff Bergoyne. I -"
"State your business, knight," he spat.
Sceva paused. Sheriff Bergoyne was sitting behind his thick, hickory desk, looking even more sour than usual. He was in his mid-thirties, with sandy blond hair that he slicked back and pulled into a ponytail. A large scar ran down his left cheek and neck and disappeared under his tunic.
"Very well. As you know, the church of Elminoir has charged me to investigate the assault on Sarah Godfrey and any related crimes. I finished inspecting the house this morning. I was wondering if you had any news from the surrounding towns that might be related to this crime?"
"No. Why don't you check them yourself?"
Sceva paused. Patience, he thought, just let it roll. "I just might do that, sheriff. I was wondering though, if you or your men searched the house or grounds for clues?"
"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't."
"Did you find anything that might help in my investigation?"
"We found some things that will help in our investigation, yes."
"I'm sorry, sir, have I given you some offense?"
"You can keep your apology, son. I don't need amatuers and damn tree-huggers around here, meddling in my affairs and pretending to be healers and sheriffs and least of all knights." He stood. "If you want to go stirring up trouble for yourself, you go right ahead. But you leave me out of it and you stay out of my way. I'll locate these guys in spite of your 'help.' Now, is there anything else you feel necessary to waste my time with today?"
Sceva was boiling, but managed a smile in spite of it all. "No, I'll just be going. Good day." He turned and walked out toward the marketplace.
Bergoyne watched him leave through the window, then returned to his desk and sat down again. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small, smooth stone, which he placed gently into the palm of his left hand. A single rune showed on the top before he placed his right hand over the stone and quietly spoke a few words. After a few seconds, he removed his hand. The stone glowed a faint red as he lifted it out of his palm. He blew gently on the rune and the glow began to fade. He turned the stone around and gently blew on this side also, until the red, glowing eye of Sater faded from view and left only blank stone in its place.
He sat back, hoping that the visit would come soon. Using the tiny stones to call the Bishop was done as seldom as possible, and Sheriff Bergoyne hated that he couldn't take care of this problem himself. Rising, he approached the latticed window near the large hearth that commanded his office. He gazed out into the marketplace and scanned the crowd to see Sceva leading his horse towards the tinker's shop as the door creaked open. He turned to see his sergeant, Breacan, enter and close the heavy oaken barrier, pushing the noise out again.
"My lord," the veteran greeted. "I've taken care of the baron's problem."
"Good. Now I have another task for you. I've just been visited by a knight of The Tree-Hugging Witch and he's headed to the southern gate. I need you to follow him and make sure he leaves the barony. Return to me when he has."
Breacan grinned, the wrinkled and pitted face cast an evil visage in the candle and torchlight. "Just follow?"
"Yes. I don't need any more of his friends snooping around here while we're taking care of family business."
"As you wish, milord," the grey haired, armored lackey bowed and exited. He knew that Breacan could gut the fool and leave him for the dogs, but that was unwise and he knew the bishop would agree. He turned and headed back to his desk as the creak announced another visitor, the tumult of Turin's marketplace resounded off of the stone walls as he looked up to see two plainly dressed men step in, baskets in their hands. Bergoyne straightened respectfully to the town's baker as the elder approached.
"Good afternoon, sheriff." The well tanned, clean shaven face grinned as he set the large wicker basket on the desk, followed by the second. "We've brought you your lunch," he announced, then stepped back wiping strong hands on the large white apron.
Bergoyne nodded. "I'm glad that you could attend me so speedily, milord. We have a problem."
Hazel green eyes narrowed and accentuated the short, greying brown hair. "Go on ."
"I was recently visited by a knight of Elminoir who's been sent to investigate the farm incident. I've sent him on a wild goose chase around the duchy and my sergeant is following to make sure he leaves the barony."
"What does he know?"
"Not much. But, he's been to the house which means he knows enough. I believe he's spoken to Sarah and she wasn't able to identify Ukaris or his gang. Perhaps there is still time to speak to them and get them to either calm down or leave."
The bishop glared for a moment with eyes that penetrated Bergoyne's very soul. Being a cleric for their Great Father had taught the cleric many things and Bergoyne, as well as their large family here in Turin, had come to respect Artorius for his knowledge and power.
"I'll speak to Ukaris and you keep your eyes open for this knight. If he becomes a problem, I'll deal with the meddler myself."
Bergoyne bowed respectfully, sweat beading on his forehead. "As you wish, milord. Consider it done."
Sceva led Victor through the crowded marketplace. Turin, like most sizable towns, was full of activity and noise, the business of life. Though he always felt more at home in the woods and natural places of the world than he did in cities, he always found the bustle and life of cities to be fascinating.
He quickly led Victor past the raw, rancid smell of the butcher's shop, walked past the fabrics, and stopped in front of the vegetable stand. He tightened his grip on Victor's bridle as the horse strained for the delightful treats. Sceva patted the horse's brown neck.
"Patience, my friend. They will be yours soon enough."
He picked out some carrots, pointed the shopkeeper to some fruit, and pulled some bronze pieces from his purse. He pulled Victor over to the corner of the shop, away from the crowded street and knelt down. The acrid smoke of the blacksmith's forge across the street assaulted his nostrils, but had reminded him to check Victor's shoes. As he lifted the leg closest to him, his eye caught on a figure very different from the others in the marketplace.
The man, of medium build with grey hair and a weathered and scarred face, was across the street pretending to shop. In many ways, he was probably doing the worst job of surveillance Sceva had ever witnessed. His armor made him conspicuous among all the townspeople, he was obviously a rough man but was browsing in the textile shop among the seamstresses, and many of the townspeople who saw him treated him with great respect - not quite obeisance, but definitely respect. He was too well-known to be stealthy.
Sceva pretended not to notice him and continued inspecting Victor's feet. The horse's shoes appeared fine, so he thought quickly of other errands he "needed" to perform while in town. Oh yes, his cookpot was getting pretty worn; he'd better go see the tinker. He had passed the tinker's shop not long after leaving Sheriff Bergoyne's office, which meant he would be doubling back - all the better to verify if this inept spy were really interested in him, or someone else standing close by. Besides, he could think of some questions to ask the tinker in an effort to better understand what was going on around here.
The tinker ran his shop out of a small building with an open-air workshop in the back. He was in the back working a small forge, suitable for the small size items and copper metal common to his trade, when Sceva arrived.
"Good day, sir. May I help you?"
"Yes, I need some repairs to my cookpot, if you please."
"Very well, if you leave it there on the table, it will be ready on the morrow."
"I also need some information... who would be a jeweler of suitable skill to craft this?" He produced the silver necklace from the farmhouse and watched the tinker's eyes grow wide.
"Damn," he wispered. "I know that. There's only one place in town for something like that. Madame Paulanne, that's who you want to see."
He put the necklace back into his pocket. "I take it, then, that this is a unique item?"
"You got that right. Only ones I see 'round here with something like that are those kids that go hanging around that Ukaris fellow. You're a little old, if you're looking to join up with him."
Sceva brushed the side of his cloak back to reveal the crest of Elminoir emblazoned on the left breast of his leather armor. "I don't wish to join with him, but I would very much like to find him. I have some questions for him in connection with what happened out at the Godfrey place."
The tinker put aside his copper pot and drew close, his voice falling to a whisper. "Look here, stranger. I don't like what happened out there one bit, but you watch yourself if you go sticking into that business. People 'round here mind their own business or it gets minded for them, you understand?"
"No, I think you'd better explain it to me... I'm a little slow."
The tinker glanced around and got even closer and quieter, as if he were afraid of ears in the very walls. "Ukaris and his boys are bad news. He's trouble on feet, is what he is. Goes 'round with five or six fellows at all times, and they'd rather spit on you than look at you. They talk big about how they're 'preparing the way' for Sater to rule this land. Nobody does anything about them, 'cause word is they come from rich families in Baden city, and there's plenty of Sater's folk in this town."
"Really? Saterists here in Turin?"
"This town is infested with 'em. I'd up and leave myself, if I didn't owe so much money on my forge still. I -- hello, sergeant."
Sceva turned to see his conspicuous observer from the textile shop standing at the corner of the workshop. "Frederick, I was just at the bakery and they were wondering when their items would be ready," the sergeant said. "What should I tell them?"
"I'll have them done tomorrow morning, right after I finish this man's cookpot."
At that, Sceva saw an opportunity. "I have need of it sooner, as I am leaving for Sonvico as soon as possible. May I pay you extra to pick it up in an hour?"
"For two extra bronze, you can have it in two hours."
"Very well. I thank you for your quick service, and I'll see you in two hours. Good day. Good day, sergeant."
Sceva decided that he really didn't need to see Madame Paulanne, since he already had the information he needed, courtesy of the tinker. He stopped in at the tavern and had a hot meal before returning to the tinker's shop. He arrived to find the man very pale and sporting a fresh knot on the left side of his head, right at the hairline.
"Good afternoon, Frederick - are you alright?"
Frederick practically dropped his tongs, he was so nervous. "Yes, sir - silly me, forgot all about the things hanging above and just about did me in." He motioned to some of the iron tools hanging from the workshop's rafters - the lowest of which was still a good foot above his head. He handed Sceva his freshly-mended campfire pot. "That'll be five bronze, please."
"Thank you, Frederick, for everything," Sceva said as he paid. "This is good work, I shall look you up the next time I am in need while in the area."
"No offense, sir, but if it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon you didn't."
* * *
Sceva headed up the north road from Turin. He planned to travel north for an hour or so before turning to the east and then making for Baden to the south. If these criminals were originally from there, the city's law enforcement would probably be able to tell him something, rich families or not. Besides, he wanted to keep up the appearance of heading for home.
The blue sky over his head held a few clouds, and he revelled in the sound of the songbirds in the trees. A small brook went tumbling by, murmuring of long-forgotten snow and rain. Soon, he noticed another traveller walking south along the road toward him.
"Well met, sir," Sceva hailed. "What news have you, and from whence?"
"I have been on the road for some time, sir, travelling from town to town, plying my trade as a cobbler. Most recently, I came from Ruswil. Before that, Marbach, Kulm, Fleya, and Vouvry."
"You certainly get around. I am just departed from Turin. I recommend you stay there no longer than necessary. They recently had a brutal Saterist attack on a farm on the outskirts of town."
"Cattle mutilated? Or worse?"
"Worse. Much worse. You sound unsurprised."
"Friend, I know you mean well with your advice, but there is no safe place in the Kingdom these days. Saterists multilated some cattle just west of Baden two months ago, and I heard from a caravan that a family was found murdered in their beds a fortnight ago in Kulm."
"The attack I mentioned took place just over two weeks ago. Saterists attacked a pregnant woman while her husband was in the fields. How do you know these other attacks were by Saterists?"
"Well, the cattle had something in common with the family. All were found with an eye of Sater carved into their bodies."
Ukaris propped his feet up on the table next to his empty plate and took a long draught from his pint. The inn set a decent enough table, he decided, though still nothing like home. Soon enough, he thought, we'll head back to Baden and get something worthwhile. But first, we've a little more fun...
His thoughts were interrupted by a man who approached from behind and pushed Ukaris' feet from the table, causing a bit of ale to spill down the front of his shirt. Ukaris leapt to his feet and drew his knife, a long, ugly, twisted blade with a pitch black hilt. Here, he thought, is a man with a date with death. But as he turned around, his angry, grey eyes locked with those of Artorius, bishop of Sater and one of the only men Ukaris actually feared.
"You don't want to do that, Ukaris. Sit down and put that away," Artorius said quietly. He put his hand on the young man's shoulder and guided him back into his chair. "I'm going to make this short and sweet, lad, so pay attention - I don't like having to repeat myself."
The calm in his voice unnerved Ukaris as much as anything else. He nodded. Truth was, Ukaris didn't really like Artorius. He found him condescending and lacking in religous fervor, but there was no doubting the power or influence that Artorius could bring to bear, which could make life extremely uncomfortable. He was not to be taken lightly.
Artorius dragged a chair over to the corner of the table and sat down. He leaned in and rested his elbows on his knees so that his face was only a few feet away from that of Ukaris. He spoke in a low voice that Ukaris could just barely hear above the noise of the dining hall.
"You and your boys have attracted a lot of attention these last few weeks. There's going to be trouble for all of us if you don't relax."
"Don't tell me you're nervous?" Ukaris scoffed. "Our Father deserves better than that."
Artorius' eyes flashed. "What you need to understand, boy, is that there is more to being a part of this family than going around making trouble for people. There are a lot of us who are waiting for the day that we can come out of hiding, but are willing to give our Father the time He needs to make that happen. What you are doing is drawing attention to all of us and making life more dangerous for you and the rest of the family."
"What I am doing is your job. You may not be that old, but you live like it. I am out here preparing the way for Him. I am showing the weak who is in charge. I am showing the followers of lesser gods their ultimate defeat. Our Father will protect me, because he is pleased with my work. I wonder if you can say the same?"
Artorius made a subtle move with his left hand between his leg and the table. Ukaris' eyes went slightly wide as he stiffened in his chair, the sneer still partly on his lips. Artorius leaned in very close now, whispering in his ear as he reached in to pull the black dagger from Ukaris' belt.
"I wouldn't be where I am if I couldn't. Our Father protects whomever He wills. Who can say who that may be? But I can promise you this: if you keep this up, you won't live to see the day of His coming."
As Artorius stood, he threw the dagger down with one quick, fluid movement and walked away. Ukaris, now slightly blue, broke from his frozen position with a gasp. As he clutched at his throat, he looked down to see the black dagger embedded in the chair between his legs. A thin trickle of blood oozed from a scratch on his leg.
Sceva rode into Marbach wondering how he would get useful information. He didn't have long to wonder. The marketplace, always busy with the dealings of daily life, was even more abuzz than usual for a town of this size. It seemed that everyone had something to talk about, and it didn't take long to find someone willing to share all the latest news. At the produce stand, he bought some vegetables from a woman and her husband who seemed shocked that he was so behind in current events.
"You mean you haven't heard? You've been in the wilderness for a while, haven't you?" The woman seemed to genuinely pity him for his life of seclusion. Sceva, on the other hand, thought it certain that he would not be able to return to it soon enough.
"A local girl, Darcy Serrins, the daughter of Gerald Serrins, the baker, disappeared five days ago. We all thought for sure that she was dead, what with all the goings-on in Kulm and Turin - those poor families - but this morning, here comes farmer Zelkins high-tailing into town with her in the back of his wagon. Why, if she hadn't been nearly dead when he found her, she was by the time she got here, the way he was driving. You know, he's a nice enough man, but not quite right in the head if you ask me. Why, back last year he came by to see if we would sell some of his crops, and he said to me..."
"Please, m'am, about the girl..."
"Oh, yes. Well, farmer Zelkins takes her straight to the church of Yaeby over there and carries her inside. Next thing you know, one of the priests is going to visit sheriff Jenkins, who comes shooting out of the magistrate's office with deputy Fernwell, and all three of them make a bee-line for the church. Now, my friend Sadie Bickel said that her daughter's friend's uncle was walking by as the priest told sheriff Jenkins that poor Darcy had been abducted by a gang of Saterists, who kept her all that time so they could use her blood to summon a demon. You know, they probably could have done it themselves, but Sadie told me that apparently if you use the blood of a virgin you can get a more powerful demon to appear, since they expect you to offer them the girl as payment. Now, I'm not one to judge, but to see the way Darcy hung around that Bobby Kaster fellow, I think maybe they should have picked their "virgin" a little more carefully, if you know what I mean. I mean, they've been known to take these long walks down by the lake, and they would be gone for hours and you know as well as I do that..."
"Thank you, m'am. I think I'll just take my vegetables and be on my way..."
"Well, alright, but just watch out for that demon... Sadie says that it's hanging around in the forests, looking for more virgins..."
"It's a shame there isn't one that feeds on blabbermouths and gossips," Sceva muttered as he led Victor through the marketplace. While he seriously doubted the whole demon story, she had been through Hell, but at least she was alive. The priests of Yaeby would be able to restore her health, and perhaps she might be able to get him onto the right track. As Sceva proceeded through the marketplace to the magistrate's office, he kept overhearing the people talking about Darcy. The story of what the girl had been through got wilder and wilder, until it finally outstripped the seriousness of the situation and Sceva had to smile. "Next they'll be saying she got eaten by a dragon and lived to tell about it," he thought.
The magistrate's office was just down the road from the church of Yaeby. Sceva had met the sheriff before and they got along much better than he did with Bergoyne, down in Turin. He passed the magistrate's office and proceeded to the inn two doors down. He preferred this inn, The Green Door, not only because the food and ale was top-notch, but because it stayed much quieter than the others due to its proximity to the sheriff. He stabled Victor and reserved a room, as he figured he would be here at least one night.
"Sceva, nice to see you," deputy Murray greeted him warmly when he arrived at the magistrate's office. He motioned Sceva to a chair. "What brings you to Marbach?"
Sceva hung his cloak on a peg and took the offered seat. "Well, I arrived hoping you could help me track down some Saterists. From the talk in the marketplace, I think I'm in the right place."
Deputy Murray lost his smile and leaned forward at the desk. "You think these are the same guys as Kulm, Turin, and so forth?"
"I'm not sure, but it seems likely if even one tenth of the marketplace talk is right. Why don't you tell me the real story, unless she really was carted off by vampires to read her mind for information that will help the advancing orc army?"
The deputy leaned back and smiled. "You've been talking to Sadie Bickel."
"No, just her friend at the produce stand."
"Oh. Same difference." He shook his head. "Those two. Well, here's the story as I got it from Don a little while ago. He and Bob Fernwell have been up at the church of Yaeby most of the day, but I talked to him a little while ago. Darcy Serrins disappeared five days ago. We talked with her boyfriend, but he checked out. We found some tracks, probably about four people, but lost them in the woods after they went through a marshy section. This morning, Ted Zelkins was out working in his field when she comes staggering out of the woods and collapses. He brought her to the church and they came and got us. Don says that so far, all they know is that she was taken against her will by several men, raped repeated, and then for some reason, they let her go. It doesn't make sense to me."
"I started investigating these attacks after the incident in Turin. I then went to Kulm, but I didn't have any leads on where to go from there. The Lady led me here, so apparently they are connected. It doesn't make sense to me, because every other attack has been notable for how every living thing present ends up dead. It's not like these guys to let something live."
The two men sat in silence for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. Sceva finally broke the silence.
"Do you think I could visit her at the church?"
"I'm not sure. Give it a try and see if they let you in. Tell Don we spoke and he can bring you up-to-date."
Sceva walked up the steps to the entrance of the church and quietly stepped inside. As his eyes adjusted, he spotted an acolyte tending to a donation box to his left.
"Excuse me, is sheriff Jenkins still here?"
"Yes, sir. Go through that door at the other side of the church, down the hall, second door on the left."
"Thank you."
Sceva followed the young man's directions and soon came to the room. He knocked quietly. The door opened to reveal a fairly large bed chamber. A four-post bed sat in the back of the room near the window, against the wall to the right, covered with ivory-colored linen and a sheer white canopy. A young female priest stood on the far side of the bed, tending to the bed's occupant. A sitting area sat nearer to the door and to the left. As Sceva entered the room, the man who opened the door broke into a large smile.
"Hey, Don," he said quietly. "Someone's here to see you."
The man still seated pulled himself upright and turned toward the door. "Who is it Bob?" he started, then he recognized Sceva and got to his feet. He practically shook the hand off Sceva's arm. "By the gods, it's good to see you. What's it been, a year?"
"Yeah, about that," Sceva grinned.
Don turned to his deputy. "Hey, Bob, we're going out to the courtyard. Come get us if anything happens."
"Sure thing, Don."
Sheriff Jenkins led Sceva down the hallway, then took a side passage to the left that brought them to a small courtyard. Several benches circled a bubbling fountain in the middle of a modest garden, and they took seats on one to their right. Sceva could see the nurse in Darcy's room through the window to his left. The church sanctuary's windows lay behind the greenery on the far side of the fountain. Sceva smiled. He couldn't help but think that the garden could really use the help of Trista and Vicana.
"Sceva, please tell me you're here to find these guys. I've done everything I can do, but we lost their trail in the marshes."
"Don, I think the answer is 'yes.' I started investigating the attack that took place outside Turin, traced them to the murders in Kulm, and then lost their trail. The Lady sent me to Marbach just in time for you to find Darcy. I think I'm getting closer to them. I spoke with John Murray at your office and he told me what he knew, so what else can you tell me?"
"Not much, I'm afraid. Darcy's been asleep now for a long time, so John knows what I know."
"You know that I'll do everything I can."
"I can't ask for more."
Just then, Bob's face appeared in Darcy's window and motioned them back inside. The men hurried back inside.
"Darcy Serrins is awake."
"Can we talk to her?"
"The nurse says yes, but that she'll stop us if Darcy starts getting upset."
The men brought chairs and sat down at Darcy's bedside. She was covered by the bed's linen up to her neck, despite the warmth of the day. Her left arm lay on top of the sheets and was covered in multiple bandages. Sceva tried to imagine how she would have looked six days ago, before all the bruises and cuts had covered her face. Were those bite marks he saw? He had to force that train of thought from his mind. Another time, he could indulge in sentiment. Right now, he had work to do.
"Darcy, do you remember me? I'm sheriff Jenkins. We need to ask you a few questions, if you're up to it."
The girl nodded slowly, but when she spoke, her voice was strong. "I remember you, sheriff. Sister Beatrice told me that I could help you catch them. Is that true?"
"Yes. This is Sceva of Sonvico. He is a knight of Elminoir and I have worked with him in the past. While I only have authority here, he has the authority to pursue these criminals anywhere they may go. I trust him and know that he will not stop until they are found."
"Hello, Darcy."
"Hello, Sir Sceva."
"No, I'm not that kind of knight. Just call me 'Sceva.' Some of these questions will be hard for you to answer, so anytime you want to stop, just say so. But the sooner you can tell me what you know, the sooner I can catch them. What can you tell me about the men that took you away?"
"There were six of them altogether. They were all young, all about my age, some younger, some older."
"How old are you, Darcy?"
"Fifteen, sir. The leader was one of the oldest, probably about 18, called Ukaris. I also heard names of Cooper, Archie, Frederick, and Gregory."
"Did they say anything about where they were going? What they were doing?"
"Ukaris kept talking about some ceremony in the mountains, that it would bring someone. He just said that 'he' would arrive to reward them for what they'd done. I know they plan to keep on... keep on..." Her hand rose to her face and wiped away a tear. "...with what they've been doing."
"Is there any way to identify them?"
"They kept telling one guy that he wouldn't get new 'fangs' until he had proven himself. I think they were talking about the necklaces they wore. They all had one except for the one called Gregory. They were silver, with a red bead in between two silver teardrop-shaped bangles. Except for Ukaris - his bangles were black, almost oily."
Sceva pulled his evidence pouch from his pocket and produced the necklace from Godfrey farmhouse. Darcy's eyes went wide.
"That's it, that's one of them. How did you...?"
"This is from where they attacked someone else. I found it at the scene. Why did they let you go, Darcy?"
"They didn't know. The one, Gregory, took me out into the woods away from the camp. Ukaris told him that if he wanted to prove himself, he had to..." She swallowed hard at the memory. Her voice and hand began to tremble, but she pushed on. "...he had to take his turn with me and then kill me. Ukaris didn't want a witness, he said. Gregory said he wanted to do both to me at the same time. That seemed to really please the others, they said there was hope for him after all and so they let him take me away. Once we got far enough away, he cut me loose. He actually apologized, said there hadn't been anything he could do to stop them, and told me which way it was to Marbach. He said that he would wait there in the woods for a while before going back to camp, and that I shouldn't worry about them following me, because they were heading for Le Sin."
"Thank you, Darcy. You've been a great help. Elminoir be with you. Sheriff, will you send a message to the Knight Commander in Sonvico to update them on my progress? I'm leaving right away."
Now that Sceva had names and descriptions of some of the criminals, he was making progress quickly. Regardless of size, these towns were all pretty close-knit communities and it was hard for an outsider to go unnoticed. Ukaris had been seen in Marbach just before the abduction of Darcy Serrins, in The Green Door Inn, no less. For someone like Ukaris, staying in an inn a stone's throw from the local sheriff is the kind of hubris that becomes his trademark - and his downfall. Ukaris had gotten into a number of barroom arguments, one with another stranger, but not anything serious enough that the magistrate had been notified.
Sceva rested Victor and himself as often as necessary, but no more. Marbach is 180 miles from Le Sin, and his quarry did not appear to have the benefit of steeds. He was hoping to catch them in the city before they could strike again.
The sheriff in Le Sin, Herbert Bosky, got right down to business.
"Are you here about those troublemakers?"
"Perhaps. Which ones are you talking about?"
"Group of six came through here last night, raised a bunch of hell down at the tavern, started a brawl. They ended up staying the night here as my guests. I escorted them to the city gates this morning and told them not to come back until they had some manners."
"How old were they? Can you give me a description?"
"They were all young, but they ranged from 13 or 14 on up to 18 or so. There was one, he was obviously the leader. He was the oldest, hair black as ink with eyes to match. Had an attitude as big as the mountains. He told me that I was going to 'get my due' in time, but that he wouldn't be the one to do it. I chalked it up to the ale and told him to go to sleep."
"Yeah, it sounds like them. They're wanted for the Saterist attacks in Turin, Kulm, and Marbach."
"Damn, and I had them right here in my dungeon, and let them go. Sorry about that."
"It happens. Which gate did you take them to?"
"They said they were headed south, so I helped 'em out that much."
"That was this morning, and it's sunset now. Were they mounted?"
"No."
"Thank you, sheriff. If I catch them, I'll bring them back here for you to identify. I'll be at the inn tonight if you need me, but I'll be leaving with first light."
* * *
Sceva woke with a jump from out of a sound sleep. He propped himself up on his elbows, listening intently for any sounds. Presently, a knock came on his door, followed by the voice of sheriff Bosky.
"Sceva, sir, are you awake? It's sheriff Bosky, I need to speak with you."
"Yes, sheriff, just a moment," Sceva replied. He pulled on his trousers and opened the door. Sheriff Bosky stood in the hallway, lantern in hand, looking every bit as disheveled as Sceva felt.
"I just received a visit from one of the farmers on the outskirts of town. There's been an attack at his farmhouse today."
* * *
Sceva knelt down next to the body and evaluated it. The boy was young, perhaps eight or nine. His face reflected the soft, smooth complexion of youth, a feature he would now take with him into eternity. His feet had been bound at the ankles, his hands at the wrists and behind his back. His eyes were completely missing. This had been an execution of the worst sort - the poor child had been beaten literally to his death. His attackers had apparently avoided hitting him in the head on purpose, probably to prevent him from dying or going unconscious too soon.
He had gone missing right before dinner, and his father found him around midnight on the edge of the forest that marked the family's property line. Sceva could hear the anguish of the boy's mother about forty yards away, the low, gutteral moans and cries of a parent whose grief exceeded the capacity of words. Death was a part of life, and a common part in these times, but the death of a child was always the hardest to bear. He tried to tune out the woman's sobs and focus on the cold, impersonal evidence that would lead him to the killers. Finally, he stood and faced the sheriff.
"There's nothing definite here except the methods they used. That speaks for itself. These are definitely the same criminals as Marbach, Kulm, and Turin. I ride southwest."
He walked back toward the family where they waited in the wagon with the horses. Sceva's quick, powerful strides alerted Victor to their imminent departure, and he whinnied his readiness. As he approached Victor and mounted, the wife broke from her husband's arms and ran to him. She grasped at his boot, placing one hand on the saddle in front of him. Sceva reached down and took her hand in gentle consolation, but she returned a grip with fearsome strength.
"Sir, you find those animals, by Arhus," she cried, invoking the god of justice. Her eyes, red with tears, now took on the fire of hatred. "You find them and you send them straight to Hell! They don't deserve no trial, they don't deserve no mercy! They gave none to my poor Brian..." she collapsed, weeping, back into the arms of her husband as he pried her from Victor's tack. Sceva could think of nothing to say. What can lessen such grief? He instead turned Victor to the south and began the ride to the mountains.
Sceva approached the mountains, trying to see through the downpour. He appreciated the concealment that the rain provided, but right now he needed to see. As foothills gave way to steeper slopes, he looked for a cave or some other shelter. Presently, he spied the tools and carts of a mining operation, followed by two openings to the west that disappeared into the side of the mountain.
He dismounted and approached the opening on the right. It was obviously a mine shaft, with all manner of tools and boxes just inside the entrance and tracks from the handcarts running in and out all over the dust of the floor. As he moved south to approach the opening on his left, the sound of screams pierced the pounding of the rain. Sceva took a step back from the rock wall and moved slowly to the entrance, letting the sheet of water that fell in front of the opening hide his movements.
This opening was no mine shaft, but a natural cave. Its opening had been bolstered with huge blocks of cut stone, probably from the mine next door, and a wooden door frame. The door hung open and the cries came from inside. Sceva crept closer to the door and peered inside.
* * *
Ukaris poured the last of the ashes onto the floor and stood with a smile. It had taken months to collect all of the items he needed, but he was finally ready. He looked around the small home he had commandeered. The carnage pleased him. Cooper had just finished having some fun with the mother, who now lay still and bleeding against the south wall of the cave, just inside the door. Archie was still at work on the youngest daughter, harvesting the last of the ingredients for the incantation. Ukaris looked at him proudly. Archie had chosen to skin the girl alive instead of killing her first, once again showing the most promise of the group. Simon and Gregory were guarding the son and older daughter, while Frederick stood behind the father, holding his eyes open to see all of their work. Gregory stood and pulled the older daughter to her feet, then pushed her roughly toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Ukaris asked. "I'm almost ready for the summoning."
"I have a plan for some fun in the mineshaft," Gregory replied. "It shouldn't take long."
* * *
Sceva noticed the boy and his hostage heading for the door and knew he would be seen if he stayed where he was. Moving quickly, but quietly, he entered the mineshaft and hid behind a stack of boxes just inside. He needed to do something quickly, he knew. The young man with the black hair had to be Ukaris, and he had been using some powder to make a circle on the floor with a rune inside. The chances that he could successfully summon anything were slim, at best, but it couldn't be good, regardless.
Sceva listened carefully and soon heard the girl and her captor approaching the mineshaft. Sceva suddenly realized that his sword and staff were still with Victor, back down the slope. He had been looking for shelter, not combat. He thought for a moment, then began preparing a spell. He could take them out slowly just as easily.
* * *
Gregory brought the girl to just inside the mineshaft. The fear in her eyes made him long to comfort her, but he knew it was impossible. His stomach still churned from what he had witnessed in the cave next door, but he thought he could save her - save just one more...
"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you," he said to her. "I'm going to hide you here in the mine and tell the others that I killed you and dumped your body into a pit. I doubt they'll bother trying to find you. Wait until we're gone before you come out. I'll see what I can do for the others."
The girl nodded.
* * *
Sceva listened to the boy explain his plan. This must be Darcy's savior, Gregory. He stopped preparing the deadly spell he had started and began a stunning spell. He stepped out from behind the boxes and both the girl and Gregory turned at the motion. Gregory's eyes went wide as he realized what was happening, but the green stun cloud hit him before he could utter a sound. Both he and the girl slumped to the ground, out cold.
Sceva thought for a moment, then decided to leave the girl's hands tied. He didn't want her to wander into the fray once things got messy. He located some rope and quickly bound Gregory's hands and feet, then dragged them both further into the mineshaft so they couldn't be seen from the entrance.
* * *
"Cooper. Frederick. Go find Greg and tell him to finish up and come on. I'm not waiting on him any more."
"Sure thing, Ukaris."
The two boys walked out into the rain.
"Greg!" Cooper called out. "Greg! Come on, man, finish up with the bitch already. Ukaris says he's not waiting on you anymore."
"What are you doing in there, proposing?" Frederick taunted. Both boys chuckled, then started walking toward the mineshaft.
* * *
Sceva heard the boys walking toward him. He needed a weapon, and he needed it now. Looking around, he soon saw several mining tools leaning against the rock wall. He quietly picked up a shovel and crept to the entrance of the mine, his shovel raised over his left shoulder with both hands. As the two boys rounded the corner of the mine's entrance, Sceva swung into the nearest boy's head. Frederick's face collapsed under the metal, erupting blood. Cooper turned to face the attacker, rooted to the ground in surprise. Sceva didn't raise for another swing, but instead gave a mighty thrust with the metal edge of the tool. The point of the shovel caught the boy in the throat, slicing into his neck and nearly severing his head from his shoulders. He fell backward into the rain, where Sceva finished him with another pair of strikes. Sceva walked back to Frederick and checked for a pulse. It faded and stopped. Sceva stood, walked back into the mineshaft, and picked up a pickaxe with his free hand.
* * *
Ukaris hadn't noticed the absence of his comrades, he was too busy with the excitement of the incantation. He stood with his book in one hand, while he tossed the final ingredients into the circle. Already there were the skin of the youngest daughter and Brian's eyes. He opened a vial and threw blood into the circle that he had gathered from other victims. He began reciting the words in the book, and the lamplight began to dim.
* * *
Sceva approached the door to the cave, wondering what his best plan of attack would be. He knew there were three more inside, as well as more hostages. As he crept up to the entrance, he heard Ukaris' chanting and a plan began to form.
* * *
Ukaris' chant had brought action to the circle in the floor. The dust and dirt had disappeared, giving way to a deep chasm of red light that lit the room, only to be replaced by an enveloping cloud of smoke and heat. His incantation finished, Ukaris set the book down and waited. What he didn't see was the small break in the ashes that formed the circle, caused by Greg's departure with the oldest daughter.
* * *
Sceva saw the smoke inside the room and stepped away from the cave. He went back to the mineshaft for something, then walked back up toward the door of the cave. As he neared it, he heard a deafening roar from within the room and the door exploded outward, showering him with fragments of wood and stone. Sceva covered his head with his arm and looked up, just in time to see a gigantic, black, winged demon fly off into the storm.
"Great," he muttered. "The bastard actually did it. Now I have something else to contend with. Idiot boy."
No time to lose, he ran up to the remains of the doorway. Smoke still filled the room, but was clearing rapidly now that the entrance was completely open to the outdoors. Soon, he spotted Ukaris, Simon, and Archie, still coughing in the thick smoke. Moving quickly, he tossed Cooper's head directly into their midst, then ran into the room after it.
Simon got hit squarely in the chest by the head. It took him a moment to realize what had hit him, then he lost all composure. Cooper's wide, blank eyes stared up at them as they all three began to yell. Just then, Sceva leapt into the room, appearing through the smoke and burying the pickaxe into Archie's chest. The boy staggered backward, hit the wall, and then fell forward onto the tool. Sceva's right hand swung the shovel around and connected with the back of Simon's head. The shovel rang with the impact and bounced back. Sceva brought his left hand up to steady the haft, then used the tool's momentum to spin himself around 360 degrees. He connected again with Simon's head, this time with a dull thud as the boy's skull flattened.
Ukaris staggered backward, stunned. Then, malice filled his eyes and he drew his dagger. He leapt forward, swinging the black blade and drawing blood from Sceva's arm. Sceva drew the shovel back and blocked a second strike with the haft. He spun the shovel's head upward, drawing Ukaris' arms to the left, then swung for his head on the backswing. Ukaris dodged, only to be speared in the stomach by the butt of the handle. He doubled over and Sceva caught him in the shoulder with the shovel head, sending him crashing to the ground. The dagger spun across the floor toward the doorway. Ukaris tried to crawl for it, but Sceva swung the shovel down and struck the ground in front of his head, crushing his outstretched arm. Ukaris howled in pain and rolled over, staring up at Sceva.
"Do you think you've won?" he asked the knight. "Do you think this changes anything? Our day is coming. Whether it is now doesn't matter. We will one day walk boldly by day, while your kind hides in the shadows. Sater will rule this world."
"Fine. Give him my regards," Sceva replied as he raised the shovel overhead.
Sceva walked through the forest, listening to the birds singing overhead. The air smelled sweetly of blossoming flowers in the meadow nearby. He stopped briefly to listen as a squirrel above chattered about something disturbing it. He looked around, wondering if he were the offender, then noticed something oozing from the trunk of the tree next to him. He stooped and touched it with his finger. It was sticky, and came off the trunk onto his finger with a smear of bright red. As he watched, the flow from within the tree came more swiftly, then from more trees, until he was surrounded and standing ankle deep in a thick pool of blood.
Sceva woke with a jump and quickly sat up in bed. He was back in his old room, up in the loft of Trista and Vicana's house in Sonvico. He ran his shaking hands through his hair and let the pounding of his heart slow to a normal rhythm. The room was pitch dark, with no hint of dawn visible through the window. He climbed out of bed and quietly crept downstairs. He found the wash basin and pitcher, washed his face, and got a drink. He sat down and relaxed in the familiar comfort of his childhood home, drinking in memories as much as water.
"Sceva?" The voice was Vicana's, soon followed by her entrance into the kitchen.
"I'm here," he replied quietly.
The older woman came over and sat down next to him. "Same dream?" she asked.
"One of them."
"It's been three months since you got back from Le Sin. Are they at least getting less frequent?"
"It comes and goes. Sometimes I'll go several days, then I'll get hit with several in one night. If I'm lucky, this will be the only one for a while."
She sighed. "I wish there was something I could do."
"Do you know a good cure for memory?"
* * *
The next day, Sceva was mending the thatch on the apothecary's roof when he saw a rider enter the gates. The man was well-appointed, bearing gleaming armor and a shield. The shield bore a white field with a blue cross, the crest of the Kingdom of Baden. The rider tied off his horse and approached one of the clerics in the courtyard. They spoke briefly, then both men turned and looked up at Sceva. The knight strode over.
"Sceva of Sonvico?" the knight asked. Sceva nodded. "I am Sir Keridan of Baden, knight of the realm. In the name of King Avendale, you are commanded to accompany me to Baden."
"Certainly. To what purpose do we ride?"
"An inquest has been opened into the affairs that took place three months ago outside Le Sin. If sufficient evidence appears during the inquest, you will be arrested for the murder of Ukaris Vandervort, son of the King's chamberlain."
* * *
Sir Keridan obviously wasn't sure about Sceva. The church of Arhus didn't have as great of a presence in this area, so the concept of a knight templar was new and unusual to most people in the kingdom. Sceva remembered as a boy when the elders in Sonvico decided to develop the templar program. It drew heated argument from many in the compound, and even from a few outside it. The arguments were especially heated when the elders decided to bring in Knight Commander Berican, a templar of Arhus, to get the program started and train their first templar. However, looking back now, almost everyone agreed that they needed the templar and that it has been visionary leadership to make such a move.
Sir Keridan soon began warming to his charge, and explained on the trip that the King's court wasn't really sure what to do in this situation, since Sceva was himself a knight, but not nobility. They decided to proceed with the inquest instead of arresting him outright, giving him the benefit of his knighthood and position within the church. He would be provided with quarters until the end of the proceedings, at which time he would either return to Sonvico or proceed to the dungeon.
When they arrived, the capital city of Baden was alive with activity. News of the inquest had reached far and wide, so as the riders entered the city gates, the townspeople all stopped and stared at them. A knight of the realm was always a sight to behold, but this time, the attention was on the visitor, this knight of Elminoir. Rumors had been building for so long, Sceva thought, that by this time he was probably either descended directly from the Lady Herself or he was a demon straight from Sater.
A lone figure watched the pair from the castle as they made their way up the hill to the gates. He was a tall, slender man, about 40 years old, with sharp features and inky black hair. Niles Vandervort, the King's chamberlain, turned from the window and proceeded downstairs, where he informed the staff of the approaching riders and gave instructions for their lodging.
* * *
Sceva found his room an interesting study in contrasts. It was smaller than his room in Sonvico, which he had thought impossible until now, but was appointed with fine linen, perfumed water, and his own chambermaid, who almost pestered him to death with her constant attention. Diane was a young woman of about 17, with long blonde hair and the fine, fair complexion of someone who spent her time in the sheltered comfort of noble lodgings. She was always popping in, "just to check on him," as if he were some seven-year-old. Finally, he managed to get rid of her for a few hours after asking her to go to the local church of Elminoir and see if they had any vestments suitable for a royal audience.
As he slept, he had a different dream than before. He was walking through the forests outside Sonvico when a young man with round features, dressed entirely in green and brown and with leaves and moss hanging from his armor, walked up to him. The young man carried a spear and he glowed faintly with a pale light. The leaves on his armor rustled when he moved, sounding like the wind in the trees. The man strode up to Sceva and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," he said. "You're not alone." Then he disappeared.
* * *
The inquest took place in the castle courtyard. A gallery had been set up to seat the audience, and it was packed to overflowing. Opposite the gallery, a series of tables held royal officials of all shapes, sizes, and positions, while the magistrate occupied the central table on a raised dais in the center. Sceva recognized the crests of Elminoir, Arhus, and Yaeby on the clothes of some of the officials. Between the gallery and the officiants sat a table and two raised platforms with high railings. Sceva was directed to one of the platforms, and soon one of the magistrate's deputies arrived and took his position at the table. The gallery quieted in anticipation.
"Be it known to all here that this inquest is begun in the name of His Royal Highness, King Brendon Avendale the Third of Baden," the magistrate announced. He then motioned to Sceva. "Are you Sir Sceva of Sonvico, knight of Elminoir?"
"I am," Sceva replied.
"This inquest shall determine the propriety of your actions in the mountains southwest of Le Sin, approximately three months ago. Specifically, we seek justification for the death of Ukaris Vandervort, citizen of Baden and son of Niles Vandervort, chamberlain to the king. The inquisitor in this matter is deputy magistrate Tihis Niruve. Inquisitor Niruve."
Inquisitor Niruve began his questioning and Sceva took an immediate dislike to the man. He was condescending, disdainful, and bordering on disrespectful. It was obvious that he did not want Sceva to tell his side of the story, but was really just attempting to get an arrest ruling from the magistrate. Sceva attempted to maintain his composure throughout, because he knew that part of Niruve's plan was to provoke an outburst.
"So it is your contention that these youth were dangerous criminals?"
"As I said, they..."
"A simple 'yes' or 'no' will do."
"Yes."
"Yet you brought one of them back to Le Sin alive, one Gregory Kesas."
"Yes."
"Was he not dangerous?"
"Not in the same way, no."
"What does that mean?"
Finally, a chance to say more than one-word answers. "Gregory Kesas acted in a manner that showed a change of heart, by helping victims escape."
"How long did you observe Gregory to determine his change of heart?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, over what length of time did you watch him to decide that he had a change of heart?"
"I had the testimony of a witness that he helped escape, and..."
"But the witness did not know him personally, did she?"
"No, but..."
"So you can't really be sure of anything except what you saw yourself. So I'll ask the question again, how long did you observe Gregory Kesas to determine that he had a change of heart?"
"About two minutes."
"Two minutes. You did observe the others for longer, I hope?"
"Do you count the two months I spent tracking them through the evidence they left behind?"
"I do not. I am wondering how you can so precisely determine the intentions of a child's heart. I'm sure there are a lot of parents who would like to know that secret."
Sceva quietly bit down on his tongue. These had hardly been children, and they had been committing decidely adult crimes. Inquisitor Niruve paused a moment, then decided to try a different approach.
"How did you capture this not-quite-so-dangerous criminal?"
"I used a spell to stun him and render him unconscious."
"That sounds quite useful. Why did you only stun one? Couldn't you have stunned the other boys as well?"
"No. The spell takes too long to cast to be effective with more than one or two people."
"Really? I think it takes less time than you would have us believe. Would you cast the spell for us, please?"
"Sir?"
"Please demonstrate the spell for me. We have several mages in the room, they will know if you are casting it as fast as you can or not. I want to see how long it takes you."
"And this inquest will not hold the frivilous use of magic against me?"
"This inquest is ordering you to cast the spell. We will not hold it against you."
As Sceva began the spell, the entire room watched him carefully. He realized that he hadn't had an audience for a spell since his classroom days, and suddenly he started getting nervous. But then, a wonderful thing happened. He had an idea. About 20 seconds went by. Inquisitor Niruve started to open his mouth to say something, when a bright jet of green light burst from Sceva's hand. The beam flew across the room, where it expanded into a bright, glowing, green cloud that perfectly encircled the Inquisitor's head. His eyes went wide in surprise for a brief moment, then quickly closed as he slumped to the ground.
"My lord, the Inquisitor appears to have no more questions at the moment," Sceva stated. "May I tell you the whole story while we wait?"
* * *
That evening, Sceva rested in his room. He propped his feet up on the window ledge and gazed out the window at the stars. The inquest had adjourned while the magistrate considered the evidence, and would return a judgement in the morning. A knock came at the door.
"Come in, Diane, what is it?" Sceva asked. He heard the door open and shut.
"No, it is not Diane," the very male voice said.
Sceva turned to look, and almost fell from his chair. He immediately took a knee.
"Your Highness, please forgive me. I thought you were the chambermaid."
"I can't say I've ever been mistaken for the chambermaid before," he said with a chuckle. "Rise, sir. Have a seat. I want to talk to you, as one man talks to another. For five minutes, I am not the king." He took a chair opposite the one Sceva had been in before and motioned for Sceva to resume his seat.
"Sceva, one of my friends is in deep mourning. He aches from the death of his son. He believes, as I think any parent would, that his son was innocent of the charges you bring against his memory. I would comfort my friend, but at the same time I believe that justice was served. Your evidence this afternoon was damning."
"I am sorry, m'lord, for his loss, but... what of the loss of so many others?"
"Oh, I grieve for them, too, but their faces are not known to me. I see the tears of my friend, my chamberlain. However, I also must question now whether his son came to worship Sater on his own, or if he learned it from his youth. These are not things that you can help me with, Sceva - except one."
"As you command, Sire."
"No, remember, I am not your king at the moment. What I ask is that you give us some time to accept your role in the kingdom."
"I don't know that I understand, sir."
"You are a new thing for us here, Sceva. We appreciate what The Lady does for us through Her church, but knights such as yourself have always been of Arhus, and always a long way away. We don't know how to appreciate your talents, yet. I am asking that you take some time off, a few years, to let us get used to the idea, to let all of this blow over, and to adjust our laws to accommodate you."
"As you ask, Sire. How long would please the king?"
"I will command the magistrate to disband the inquest if you give me your pledge to delay any further service as a knight of Elminoir for five years."
"I do so pledge, sire."
"Very good. Thank you, Sceva. Oh, and one more thing. Will you return to me in one year with your Knight Commander, to advise my court in matters of dealing with the templar?"
"As you ask, Sire."