Chapter VIII

Arch-Bishop Absolom had been running all over the Grand Cathedral, making sure that all of the priests, monks, priestesses, nuns, and geomancers there were preparing for the imminent conflict with Nihilus. He had them working around the clock. Geomancers, priests and priestesses were making golems, en masse, to supplement the Arxian military. Monks and nuns worked together to make small diamond pendants for the common soldiers to wear, blessed with protective prayers to keep demons away. Those geomancers not helping make golems were constantly shaping and forging weapons out of diamond, some for the paladins, and other, small daggers of diamond for the other combatants. The King of Nihilus had likely already set his invasion plans into motion, so the Arch-Bishop wanted to be equally ready.

He had sent out word to all the other cathedrals, every monastery, every convent, and every temple throughout Arx as well, demanding their support in this. The usual, more spiritual practices of these religious institutions were now turned to preparations for war. Money that would normally have gone to supporting the poor and the homeless in the communities surrounding the churches was now being spent on materials to prepare for the conflict. The clergy felt terrible each time they had to turn away beggars, but they had to consider what was at stake. As cruel as it was, the livelihood of a small minority of beggars and homeless people was less important than saving the lives of every one of Arx's citizens, because the clergy had no doubt in their mind that Nihilus would show them no mercy if they won. The most mercy they could expect from Nihilus would be that their children would be captured rather than killed, and raised to become warlocks, which was, to many, a fate worse than death. Some would rather kill their own children then let the Nihilites corrupt them and condemn their souls.

In recent years the Agalmite faith had spread beyond the borders of Arx. Missionaries had been sent out to the kingdoms of Subra in the south, Shadia in the north, and many of the city-states in the West. Even in Nihilus there were some Agalmite believers, though they had to keep their faith quiet and hold prayer meetings in secret. To Absolom the defense of Arx was about more than just defending his homeland, it was about defending the religion itself. Without the Law, which the warlocks of Nihilus undoubtedly wished to destroy, the religion would soon fall apart, he was sure of it. It was the traditions, the rules literally set in stone, that kept the faithful together. The Church had already suffered one schism from the Inquisition, the Arch-Bishop would not see it suffer any more.

Malachi, the royal messenger, met the Arch-Bishop in the halls of the Grand Cathedral, as he was running from the rooms where golems were being crafted to the rooms where diamond weapons were being made. “Your holiness, if I may...”

“What news do you have? Quickly, please.” The Arch-Bishop responded.

“King Hadar's guards discovered a Blackstar Talisman in his castle, which means that a warlock has infiltrated it.”

“The castle has been compromised? Is nowhere safe? What has his Majesty decided to do about it?”

“You've heard the rumor that an inquisitor was seen her in the capital city, I assume?”

“Yes...” the Arch-Bishop's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Oh no! he didn't!”

“It's true, your Holiness. The King called for an inquisitor to come in and investigate the matter, root out the warlock responsible.”

“I understand he's desperate, but still...” The Arch-Bishop could not have been more shocked by this turn of events. He had considered King Hadar a truly devout member of the Agalmite faith, and as such he found it difficult to believe that he'd call upon the help of those heretics. The inquisitors had their own version of the Sacred Scriptures, including books and passages that were supposedly taken out by the early Church founders for being too harsh. According to the Inquisition the version of the Sacred Scriptures the Agalmites followed was “watered down,” and the original Scriptures were meant to be far stricter, far harsher. Their version of the faith wielded guilt like a sword, telling their congregations that God had allowed himself to die because he was so distraught over the sins of humanity. They had such a strong desire to rid the populace of vice and sin that they had them subjected to public beatings sometimes for even THINKING about adultery, and even their definition of adultery had been altered to include any sexual act between two people who either were not married or were not intending on conceiving a child. Yes, even married couples were often guilty of adultery in the Inquisition's eyes if they were intimate for any reason other than attempting to have children. The very fact that King Hadar would invite an inquisitor into his home for any reason, even if it was for such an investigation, was horrifying, and the Arch-Bishop certainly hoped he knew what he was doing.

In the meantime the investigations in the castle had already begun. Brother Grigori had spoken to Naomi, who was in charge of the castle's servants, about which of the servants were hired shortly before the assassination of King Amasi. It was Grigori's belief that the assassins involved in that plot and the warlocks planting Blackstar Talismans in the castle were connected, working together, and as such he wanted to investigate anyone hired around that time. He had narrowed it down to a few specific suspects.

The first was Libni. Libni came from a small village in the countryside of Arx, in the county of Bashan. What Naomi knew about him when he was hired was that he had previously been an acolyte in the church there, but was refused for priesthood when he was caught drinking sacramental wine when no sacrament was being made. Of course, Naomi had nothing more than his word to go on that he was indeed a former acolyte, since he brought no papers of any kind to prove this.

The second suspect was Shimei. Shimei came from Aius, and had been a beggar for many years after she lost her job as a carpenter's apprentice. She claimed that it was because she injured her hands, and as such was no longer able to work. Grigori knew this one was unlikely to be the culprit since crafting a Blackstar Talisman required a fair amount of dexterity in one's fingers.

Finally there was Ocran, who was previously a servant in the house of Duke Parzan, one of King Hadar's cousins. He had papers proving that his family had been in the castle of Duke Parzan for generations, long before Parzan was even born. For this reason Ocran was the only truly suspicious one in Grigori's eyes, for it seemed likely to him that a Nihilus spy would be clever enough to bring papers to prove he was an Arxian citizen whereas actual Arxian citizens would see little need to make sure they could prove their country of origin.

Grigori had the guards escort Ocran into a small stone room, one with no windows and only one door, one barred from the outside. Guards stood by on the other side of the door. There were no chairs in the room to sit on, but rather a small stool, barely large enough for a full-grown man's bottom to rest upon and so short that when lowering one's self onto it one had to struggle to keep from falling, which Ocran did. Just as hard as it was to sit down Grigori knew it would be even harder to stand up from such a stool. Grigori set down a large bag in the far corner. There was a metallic jingling sound as the bag touched the floor.

“You are Ocran, yes?” Grigori asked, across the room from him.

“I am, sirrah,” Ocran replied, showing no sign that he was in the least intimidated or nervous. This, to Grigori, was his first mistake. The inquisitors had a reputation for being torturers, and even for torturing the innocent, anyone of sound mind would be terrified to be alone in a room with an inquisitor. If he was fighting so hard to hide his fear this only made him a good liar.

“You have worked in this castle for less than a year?”

“Indeed.”

Grigori was, admittedly, asking questions he already knew the answers to. He was watching Ocran to see how he acted when he told the truth as a way of gauging what was truth and what was a lie. “And your family served Duke Parzan and his forefathers?”

“That's true.”

his expression had not changed at all, at least this much was truth, but Grigori still had more questions for his suspect. “Have you ever committed adultery?”

“What? No!”

Still this was the truth. “What about sloth? Are you...dutiful in your daily routines? Does anyone have to pick up the slack for you?”

“Yes...err no...I work hard.”

Grigori could forgive his stammering, admittedly his own phrasing likely led to that, not anything that Ocran was hiding. “It's alright, I've already heard the reports from Naomi,” in a strange change of tone Grigori tried to sound friendly, which was a little difficult for him, but considering his harsh tone before Ocran actually found relief in this. “In fact, from what she tells me it is you who picks up the slack for other servants. Some of them will forget to clean specific rooms, or forget to empty chamber pots. It's you who does all the things they leave behind, isn't it?”

Ocran smiled a little. “Yes, that's true.”

“That's good. Perhaps this castle could use more servants like you.”

“If you don't mind me asking, sirrah, why am I really here? I doubt you brought me down here to talk to me about my job performance.”

This could be either a sign of innocence, someone in a hurry to prove he was in the clear, or a sign of guilt, someone trying to seem innocent by welcoming the inquisitor's interrogation. Grigori had seen both before. “You're here because I'm investigating the possibility of warlocks in this castle. I do believe that there is likely more than one, and I must question certain members of the staff in order to get a good idea of who is or isn't involved. This interrogation is as much to prove your innocence as it is to get information. Tell me, have you noticed anything suspicious lately about other members of the castle's staff?”

“Well...I don't want to get anyone in trouble, but I have noticed something...”

“Yes?”

“One of the guards, Huram. I noticed him taking a horse-shoe into the barracks. I thought it unusual but harmless, until I heard about the Blackstar Talisman and its iron core.”

Grigori felt that Ocran was likely attempting to shift the suspicion from himself. The story seemed implausible; why would a guard who was secretly a warlock take the materials and tools necessary to make a Blackstar Talisman into a room that he shared with many other guards? Why would he work on such a thing where others could see him? Still this was worth investigating, if for no other reason than to see if Ocran was trying to frame Huram, and perhaps to find proof that this was so.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Ocran. I may call on you again as a witness in this case.” Grigori walked over to the door and knocked on it. “We're done!” he said, loudly. The guards unlatched the door and it swung open. Ocran groaned as he forced himself up to his feet. He found it difficult to rise off of a stool so close to the ground. Grigori knew there was a small possibility of Ocran trying to flee. This almost made Grigori want to accuse him then and there, lock him in the dungeon, to prevent him from getting away, but with how softhearted King Hadar was Grigori knew he'd have to be absolutely sure before he locked anyone up. Mere suspicion was not true evidence.

As Grigori walked off from the interrogation room he decided he'd stop by the kitchen to grab something small to satisfy his appetite. He'd nearly run out of the rations he'd brought along with him for this trip, so he knew he'd have to eat some of the castle food, something he definitely didn't look forward to. As he walked in he could see mostly female servants taking care of the kitchen, most of them older, but a few were young, likely still in training. A guard stood by the door, and as Grigori walked in he noticed that the guard's eyes were transfixed on one of the servants in the kitchen. She was a young and rather attractive one, though not so attractive to suggest that she was constantly attending to her looks. She was naturally pretty, but not vain. The guard's eyes were roaming all over her, and the corner of his lip was turned up in a lustful half-smile. Grigori had seen this kind of look on a number of occasions, and what made it even more sickening was that the few times that the serving girl glanced over at the guard she gave him a nervous look, and turned away quickly. She knew she was being lusted after, and it certainly wasn't welcome.

Grigori turned to the guard. “You! What's your name?”

“What?” the guard was startled by the question and by Grigori's accusatory tone.

“Your name. Tell it to me.”

“Iddo, sir.”

“Iddo, I suggest you trade posts with another guard immediately.”

Iddo scoffed. “You're not in charge here, inquisitor. You're just here to investigate the attacks under the King's orders. Only either the captain of the guard or the King can order me around.”

“That's why I said I suggest it,” Grigori said. “No matter, I will have speaks with the King about you.”

“What did I do?”

Grigori shook his head and walked off. He found King Hadar in his office, signing papers concerning new taxes and trade laws. “Your Majesty, a moment of your time?”

King Hadar looked up from his paperwork and removed the small pair of reading spectacles from his nose. “Brother Grigori, have you found something?”

“The investigation is on-going. I actually came here to discuss with you a different matter.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, Sire. Posted at the kitchens is a certain guard named Iddo. He has been staring at one of the serving girls lustfully, and it is clearly unwelcome. I suggested to him trading posts with another guard and he refused.”

“And you want me to order him to trade posts, then?”

“That and more, sire,” Grigori said. “I don't know how you handle this sort of crime here, but in the Inquisition's lands we publicly flog those who entertain lustful fantasies so openly, especially those who seem to be entertaining thoughts of rape. It not only steers the individual away from such thoughts in the future, but also deters others, because they see what happened to the lecher.”

“Has he touched her in any way?”

“Not that I'm aware of, sire.”

“Then I think it's a bit much to accuse him of thinking of raping her, don't you? Perhaps a bit melodramatic? If we flogged every man who was ever attracted to a woman...I shudder to think of how many people would be suffering...”

“If he is allowed to continue his fantasies unchecked, sire, his fantasies may materialize into something more...concrete. This is a crime I believe needs to be stopped before it happens.”

“I'll move him to a new post,” King Hadar said. “But I will not have him flogged if he's done nothing wrong. People still have freedom of thought in my castle, Brother Grigori.”

“So I see,” Grigori sighed. “If he steals her virginity, though, that blood's on your hands, then. I must get back to the investigation.” Grigori exited the office, without a hint of anger in his voice or walk, though inside he was stewing with rage. How King Hadar could justify not taking every action necessary to prevent such a heinous crime was truly beyond him.

Nearly any other king would have at the very least reprimanded Grigori for speaking to him with such disrespect, but Hadar found it hard to stand up for himself, and certainly found it hard to argue with someone who had such a solid point. Yes, the Inquisition's response to such an issue was way too extreme, yet at the same time Hadar had to admit that if something happened to that girl he'd feel terrible, and he'd certainly wish he had done what Grigori suggested. On the other hand, if nothing happened and nothing was going to happen he'd feel guilty for harming an innocent man.