Chapter 1

A Sordid Affair

AN: With this particular tale, I'm straying a bit from my usual habits. This story is primarily a character portrait, and it is, thusly, largely dependent on the final scene in the final chapter. If this culmination is a miss, then the whole story suffers as a result, and as such an experiment, comment is especially appreciated here. A few technical notes; Juza, Zio, Alys Brangwin, and Galf are all the property of Sega. The plot, dialogues and other characters are all owned by me.

Also, special thanks to DezoPenguin for loaning me "the Thunder Sword."

It's not time to make a change,
Just sit down, take it slowly.
You're still young, that's your fault,
There's so much you have to go through.
Find a girl, settle down,
If you want you can marry.
Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy.

All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside,
It's hard, but it's harder to ignore it.
If they were right, I'd agree, but it's them They know not me.
Now there's a way and I know that I have to go away.
I know I have to go.

4th and 5th verses of "Father and Son"

Lyrics copyrighted to Cat Stevens

Juza stared sternly at the two boys who were shamefacedly shuffling their feet before him, dropping their eyes from his gaze. Coughing nervously, he straightened the papers spread before him on his enormous mahogany desk. He felt nothing more than an urge to scream, but all he did was to cough again.

"Hmm," he said, clearing his throat loudly. "Hm. Given, ah… given the various, ah…" he stopped, clearing his throat again, until he was confident that he could go on. "Given the unusual circumstances surrounding the wronged party, the lack of pressed charges, and the relatively minor nature of your crimes, the Council is inclined to look upon these affairs with lenience." He stopped again, feeling hot and sullen. His loose fitting doublet was clinging to him in now in the unseasonable heat, and his head throbbed with pain. He never even wanted to hear the name of Zio again. "I, however, am not," he finished, belatedly recognizing the silence that had opened up.

The boys continued to stare mutely at their feet, refusing him the basic courtesy of meeting his eyes. Juza supposed that he should be grateful that these were just a pair of boys in for a dressing down rather than any of the others who wouldn't meet his gaze… "Hmm," he coughed again. "Breaking the, ah, peace is quite a serious matter…" No matter how much I agree with the sentiment, in this case.

The day was too hot and still to think. A soft voice broke in upon his ruminations. "Perhaps you shall allow me a suggestion, Magistrate."

Juza's mouth opened a full three seconds before he was prepared to speak. "Lord," he said, only just remembering the appellation, "Zio. I believe it is customary to knock before letting oneself into another's property."

The current cause of nearly all his official headaches stood before him. Lord Zio was a tall, very pale man, and quite slender. His hair was black and glossy, nearly the same value as the plain and unadorned armor that the man always wore. Indeed, the only concession to a color other than black in Zio's appearance was the inner lining of his cloak, a deep red. It was an effect intended to impress, but Juza found it just as unconvincing and pretentious now as he had the first time he'd ever seen Zio.

Zio bowed slightly, the arrogant corners of his mouth lifting in a slight smile. "Forgive me, my friend. I only thought that as I am the wronged party in this matter, that perhaps I might make a suggestion or two."

"Certainly," said Juza struggling to keep his irritation from his voice. "You do have that right to be sure." He shuffled the papers in front of him, coughing again. "Do be seated."

"You are very kind." Zio turned his cold gaze to the two boys. "I am tempted to take a stronger view of this matter. The vandalism of my church does not amuse me. However, I also recognize that the education of the young is our duty. Magistrate Juza, I formally petition you to give me jurisdiction over these young men for one morning, say in two days, to do penance for their crime upon my premises."

"Proselytizing is against the law." The objection came out more sharply than Juza had meant it to.

"To be sure," Zio agreed amiably. "I merely feel that these two might learn best from this occurrence should they understand the culture, the history that they were attacking. I assure you, there shall be nothing involved in this but certain menial chores that we must all perform from time to time… and instruction. When the young go astray of the law, Magistrate, I am sure you demand rightful recompense… and so to do you take them aside to try and make them understand why the law says what it says. This violation of our sacred ground can only truly be cleansed in understanding."

There was nothing that Juza could say to that, so he sat fumbling for a long moment. "To be sure," he assented awkwardly. "I was merely attempting to ascertain that our laws would not be compromised." The second part came out easier, sounded better. Long experience led Juza to analyze nearly everything even as he said it, and that practice he held to particularly around Lord Zio. He did not trust the man.

"I'll draw up the document now," he offered by way of apology, shifting uncomfortably against the heat.

Zio blinked. "No need, Magistrate. I've already taken the liberty of having one drawn up. It just needs your signature."

Juza felt his anger uncoiling at that. How dare Zio presume to anticipate this? Hardly unreasonable, but it did gall him. Nearly as much as Zio's habit of either addressing him formally, or as 'friend.' He turned a hard gaze to the boys, quickly. They were still staring at their feet, but Juza was certain that just a moment ago they'd been looking at him. Aye, go on, snigger. You know you want to. The Magistrate's been outmatched.

His anger was a sullen thing, but long practice made it easy for Juza to conceal it as he stood, accepting the proffered document. He quickly scrawled his signature, sitting back down. After a long moment, he looked back down at the boys. "You can leave," he told them curtly. "Lord Zio will see that you're disciplined on the day in question… and I shall help him find you should that prove in any way difficult." He flicked two fingers. "Now go."

As the boys half-ran from the room, Juza turned his gaze back to Zio. The clergyman had not left as Juza had hoped he would, though he doubted it. If Zio had only been interested in the boys, he would have sent one of his acolytes. Of that much, Juza was certain.

"I thank you my friend," Zio said politely. "You have done both your duty and me a kindness."

Juza's eyes narrowed. He hated being addressed as 'friend' by Zio. He hated that worse than all the rest. When Zio had first come to Kadary, he had been a quiet enough presence. Then in a mere five days, he had shocked the town by requesting permission to build this church of his, this new religion.

The Council had agreed quickly enough, save Juza alone. He had been outraged and he still was, though not for the religious reasons that Zio likely suspected him of having. Juza not only held a secular position in society, religion had no meaning for him. It was the precedent that had stunned him when the council had spinelessly handed that right over to Zio… All the progress we've made since the Great Collapse… all our advances in society and we could be thrown back into howling barbarism. In his closing statements on that vote, Juza had issued a scathing denouncement of Zio's proposal and the Council's acceptance of it. And ever since then, Lord Zio had treated Juza with more courtesy and solicitation than he did any of the other Councilmen. Juza hated that.

To fill up the silence, Juza forced a smile. "Of course, Lord Zio. Is there aught else I could do for you?"

"I confess that I have some slight curiosity as to whether or not you shall be attending the Lord Mayor's little party this evening?"

Juza's cheek twitched at that. Lord Mayor Argus was a fool and a spineless coward as well. "Of course."

"And how," Zio asked innocently, "is your charming wife?"

A slow dull flush crept up Juza's neck. That's the way of it, then. That bitch has opened her legs to you too? To you? Mastering the disgust and envy that flooded his breast at Zio's insinuation, he merely said, "Quite well."

"Ah," said Zio. He rose abruptly, nodding to Juza. "Thank you for your time, Magistrate. Perhaps there will be time enough for us to speak this evening." With that, Lord Zio stepped out the room with the subdued grace that he had always possessed.

Juza sat there staring sullenly ahead into space. Twenty long years as Magistrate of Kadary… twenty years and now where had it all gone? He was a learned man, a rational man, and yet he couldn't keep this envy, this darkness from his thoughts. Indeed, it had disturbed him; just how often his thoughts turned black these past few weeks…

He could pore over his accounts from dawn to dusk till his eyes blurred, he could execute masterly tact and justice, he could speak for the long-term benefit of Kadary in the council, he could immerse himself in his hard-won job, with the precision that had won him the recognition he deserved, he could do everything and yet… and yet… It wasn't enough. Even with his eyes open, even with his mind on the cases before him, he could visualize the exact tilt of her head, the shape of her nose, the line of her jaw…

With a sudden violent motion, Juza slammed his hand down on his hardwood desk, swinging his arm across the table, scattering his papers and knocking three old candle stubs off of the polished surface. Even now, he couldn't master his hatred, his love, his distraction.

Juza's lips trembled for a brief moment as he breathed heavily. Elizabeth… Yes, he could still visualize that tilt of the head very well, the curious, open, friendly spark in her eyes… That was all long ago, he reminded himself, in an effort to retain his rationality, his dignity in the face of this onslaught of his emotionalism. Before Zio. Before the Council. Before now. Not for me anymore.

Still, much as he fought it, he couldn't prevent the stream of memories. Couldn't prevent the shakiness in his hand. Couldn't even prevent his desire to somehow mend the situation, to somehow…

With a grunt of useless anger, Juza forced himself up from the chair. He took two massive strides towards his little side cabinet, and brusquely searched around for a moment or two. He grunted again, in approval this time, as he pulled out a bottle of brandy. It was still a little early in the day for such a heavy drink, but dammit all, his nerves were all shot to pieces and he needed something or other.

He slumped back into his seat, half tidying his papers as he uncorked the bottle. Not bothering to pour the drink into a glass, he raised the bottle to his lips and took a good swig. He sighed, feeling slightly better. He could still feel the frantic nervousness beneath the surface, but at least he was a little calmer now. He lifted the bottle again, and then stopped frowning. Tempting though it was, it would be better to pour himself an actual drink this time.

Juza prided himself on his moderation and he would need his wits about him tonight anyhow. His spineless colleagues on the council would doubtless try to wring various concessions from him, or alternately try to win his support for their latest, corrupt or merely incompetent proposal. And Lord Zio would be there. And Elizabeth. Always Elizabeth…

With a scarcely repressed shudder, Juza pushed all concerns of his personal life away from him, focusing his attention at last, on the most recent reports of various misdemeanors or complaints.

Thankfully enough, Kadary was very quiet in terms of actual crimes these days. Indeed, it was unfair of him to ascribe great trouble to Zio… well, unfair in a limited sense, at any rate. The only thing of any note seemed to be an escalating rivalry between the two most powerful merchant princes of the region. Eddard Crane and Luthor Orcis.

Now there was a business that Juza had truly no wish of being mixed up in. Very wealthy, very demanding, and very arrogant, either man was trying at the best of times. Still, the way things were going between them… Juza's mouth tightened with displeasure. Neither one was exactly above board as far as anything went. He'd never been able to prove it, but he knew that both of them had engaged in some pretty illegal business from time to time, usually in their endless game of profits, back and forth with each other.

A groan burst from Juza's lips as he realized, belatedly, that both men would be at the Lord Mayor's party this evening. As if he needed another bloody headache. If they were there then Juza would, after all, be obliged to try to do something about the whole sordid business. Based on the reports in front of him, neither Eddard nor Luthor were currently doing anything strictly illegal, but they were stretching the law about as far it would go, if not a little farther. Bloody lovely. Maybe Elizabeth can handle bloody Eddard Crane.

The mere thought of it sparked his anger again. Twenty years he'd been magistrate… twenty long years, cleansing Kadary of corruption, and all he'd ever accrued from that was grudging respect from a few, and the envy of lesser men. And what was his reward for a life of such service? His bloody marriage was ending.

My deliriously happy marriage, he remembered. As long as it lasted. Elizabeth… The pain that gripped him was momentarily stronger than the hatred. The disgust. The envy and the rage. Juza was a logical man, a rational man. And yet, he had truly loved Elizabeth. Would it truly make her happy, to leave him? To wreck him in this disgrace? If it would, then he wanted that for her, logically and emotionally.

Fine rhetoric, he mocked himself mercilessly. By all the gods of Algo, you're a pathetic, mewling, hypocritical excuse for a man. Bloody fact of the matter is that I've tied myself to bloody Elizabeth, ball and chain. And now those spineless sycophants on the council, the bloody people of Kadary that I've served, because MY marriage is ending, they have no respect for me. Half of them won't even look at me! Elizabeth, you evil bitch! You've done this to me. Wrecked me.

The blood pounded through his head at nearly the same speed as each increasingly dark thought. Still, of the whole thing, it was the complete lack of consideration for him that really stung. That was what had really hurt Juza. Her complete disregard for him in this whole equation.

Dammit it all, Juza had never even expected to get married! Certainly, he had always considered it a dubious proposal, but with Elizabeth… there had been something there. Some warmth about her, something in the manner she held, some way she had of speaking, of focusing his attention, something in the bonds she had formed with nearly everyone, everything… And alright, if he was honest with himself, Juza had wanted that. He still did, but Juza was a man, and he could modulate his less than logical weaknesses where he had to. He had wanted that nearly as much as he had wanted her, in a more prosaic way, anyhow.

He had considered himself lucky to have even married her in the first place, and those first two years… well, if she had wanted the occasional affair, he wouldn't have minded. He would have kept the secret for her; indeed, it wouldn't have really mattered to Juza, as long as he had been able to keep this other thing, this intangible quality of hers. And yes, honestly, he would have asserted his conjugal rights from time to time, Elizabeth was, after all, incredibly attractive in that way, with her shoulder-length hair, ovular face, and that complexion… and all of that without even moving onto the more salient (and very satisfying) details of her form! Yes, he had been reasonable about that whole matter, he had been considerate to her, and now she was wrecking the entire marriage! With not a single thought of how this would affect Juza. His fury uncoiled, hot and angry. So much sweeter than the pain.

He sat there breathing heavily for approximately six seconds, and then released his breath sharply. He could let go of his anger, at least for the moment. And really, if this was the way it was, then Juza could accept that. He could accept that his marriage was ending, because Elizabeth was a duplicitous, scheming, evil… He relaxed his shoulders. That was not good. He'd nearly slipped back into irrational anger there. To be sure, he'd been given cause, but this was just another problem amongst many. Just another bit of business to be attended to. Very well. If the bitch wants a divorce, then I'll bloody well give her one, custom be damned. By all the gods of Algo… I'll give her one.

---

"Magistrate Juza Atheon," the butler announced judiciously.

"Ah, Juza," cried the Lord Mayor, waddling forward, his double chin jiggling at every step. "How very good of you to come." He shook Juza's hand, his voice suddenly changing sharply as he snapped at the butler, "Don't you have things to attend to, Parker?" The butler bowed deferentially, immediately padding out of the room.

In the meantime, Mayor Argus continued to enthusiastically pump Juza's hand. Juza noted with disgust that Argus's own hands were ever so slightly moist. "Anyway, my dear Juza," the Mayor went on in a tone of forced friendliness, "glad that you could come. Very glad indeed." He finally released Juza's hand, only to throw his left arm around Juza's shoulder, guiding him over to the others already arrived.

"Betsy," the Mayor barked. "I'm sure that the Magistrate will find that tale of yours most intriguing. If you'll excuse me momentarily," he added, slipping off himself.

Juza in the meantime found himself accosted by the four others in the room. Betsy, the Lord Mayor's wife, stood, offering him a seat. "A drink, Magistrate Juza?"

"Juza," he said stiffly as he took the indicated seat, though he leant restlessly forward. "And yes, thank you. I am… honored to be here." The words sound stilted, formal and insincere even to Juza, but the others pretended to take no notice of the irony permeating his tone.

"Juza, old boy," remarked Eddard Crane, sitting across from him with one leg thrown casually over the other, "I was beginning to fear you wouldn't make it." There was a disdainful smile on his lips.

"Eddard," he said coldly. "Good to see you again. How is your latest deal coming? As I recall, it was a shipment of parums, wasn't it?"

Eddard Crane shifted slightly; the arrow had struck home. Parums were a very a rare fruit, and very profitable for merchants to carry. However, Luthor Orcis had somehow (illegally, Juza knew) gotten hold of Eddard's shipping information and had cut him out of his own deal.

Fortunately, just at that same moment, Betsy intervened to breakup the swiftly gathering tension, handing a drink over to Juza. He smiled and thanked her, taking a moment to study the Mayor's wife. A short woman, with a round-ish shape, though not especially heavy… no, she was not attractive, but there was some grace about her that drew the eye.

And that, he thought sneeringly, is married to Argus. Well maybe there is some justice in the world after all.

Certainly, Juza's long career as magistrate had taught him that there was little kindness or justice in the world, and that it was men who made all of either. Eddard, in the meantime, was saying, "Your command of detail is masterly, but I believe that your memory must have failed you in this case. My last shipment was one of cleerum spice."

Lies or semantics, thought Juza, but all he said was, "Indeed?" He took a good mouthful of the wine, swirling the rest of it around slowly in his glass as he met Eddard Crane's gaze again. He leant forward, allowing himself a slower, dignified sip of his drink. "Anyway, Ned," he began, using the merchant's familiar, when the door to the room swung open again.

"Elizabeth Atheon," came Parker's servile tones.

Before Juza could so much as turn his head, his wife was already upon them, all friendly smiles. She was dressed in a white, rather revealing gown. Juza felt his mouth go dry at the sight of both her flesh, and her beauty. On the purely aesthetic level, one thing he'd always appreciated about Elizabeth had been that despite the extremity of her erotic charms, they were proportionate erotic charms.

By the gods of Algo… pitiful, excuse, weak reaction… "Elizabeth," he said calmly as she took a seat between him and Ned Crane. But he could see that she knew the calmness was a façade. She smiled; leaning over to him to give an enthusiastic hug (she gave nearly everyone enthusiastic hugs).

"Juza," she said brightly. "I've barely seen you today."

He struggled for a moment to reply to such banal, if ordinary, small talk. "It… it's… yes." The moment the words left his mouth, Juza could feel a slow flush creeping up his face. Elizabeth smiled again at him, both fondly and quizzically, even giggling a little at the idiocy he had just pronounced.

He struggled to fill the silence between them for a moment, but then she turned to Eddard Crane, politely greeting him and striking up a conversation. Juza didn't hear them talking, as abruptly as that he was consumed by lust. Overpowering, all consuming lust.

He had to grip the arms of his chair to control the blood thundering through his head. Taking one quiet, deep breath, he reached for his wine glass, only to realize that it was empty. He frowned momentarily and started to put the glass back down as he tried to control the envy and disgust that had suddenly flooded his very being, when he realized belatedly that he was being spoken to.

"Would you like another glass of wine, Juza?"

Startled, he met Betsy's gaze. For a moment, he hesitated, glancing back at Elizabeth and Eddard and Stefan, Kadary's treasurer, who was contributing occasional monosyllables to the conversation. "Please," he said, handing his glass over to the Mayor's wife. Bloody Eddard Crane and bloody Elizabeth… the food was not yet laid out, but what reason had he not to take a drink? All of Kadary either refused to acknowledge him thanks to Elizabeth, or treated him only mockingly as had Ned Crane. Even Betsy now… there was some curious, somber expression on her face. So, why not take a drink? Why not, indeed?

---

It was some time later when Juza finally realized that he was drunk. The room was full of people, and he didn't remember all of them coming… but when they were determined to scorn him for factors beyond his control, why should he give a damn? And the food was out… had the food come? It must have, seeing that it was out, but Juza certainly didn't recall having noted it at the time. Come to think of it, he didn't remember getting the plate of bread and cheese in his left hand either. All in all, Juza had to concede that if was not precisely drunk, then he was certainly more drunk than sober.

The room was noisy, crowded… hot. But his eyes were only for the face of Eddard Crane… and Elizabeth, dancing gracefully with Luthor Orcis. Ned Crane's eyes were following her… She's my wife dammit! Divorce or no… but they weren't divorced, he suddenly realized. She just bloody well doesn't care about me anymore. Well, why should I?

He leant against the wall, struggling to keep his disgust from rising out of control as he watched Eddard's regular, even handsome features. "These revelries… they make one wonder of the justice in the world, do they not Magistrate?"

Juza started. He had not noticed Zio, now come to stand beside him. "Justice," he mumbled in response. "They're all… so young." It was a startling thought. Even the ones that were of an age with Juza… what winter had come for them? So young and heedless and foolish… It's hot, but I'm still bloody cold. Do they even notice either?

"There is so much pain in all of Algo. So much injustice and hunger… and yet here we are, with those who do better than sufficient. And here we eat and drink." There was a hypnotic quality to Zio's voice. "How does this serve Kadary? How does this serve any of the noble impulses in our sad little world?"

The wine and the heat made Juza heedless of subterfuge and he was tired anyway. Not bothering to keep the sarcastic bite from his voice, he slurred, "Whereas your church does serve these oh-so noble causes, my lord?"

Zio was silent for a moment. "You dislike religion; do you not, my friend? And yet what cause have I given you for suspicion, or indeed offence? What harm have I done Kadary?"

"I don't care about your bloody church or your religion. It's all the same to me. Meaningless." He lurched forward slightly, grabbing a full wine glass from a passing tray. "But the progress to be unmade… won't have it." Was it the wine that was making him incoherent, or merely Zio's insufferable company? Juza wasn't certain, but he also found that he didn't much care.

"And yet…" Zio shrugged gracefully. "Well, we serve the same strictures, you and I. It is only you, my friend. Is it truly justice that you serve, or do you love Kadary more? Or even yourself."

Juza was silent for a moment. In his current mood, even faux camaraderie with the likes of Zio was better than his own company. Nonetheless, he could feel some vague unease stirring. And certainly, Zio's company was almost more welcome than that of any other person. Any other person. And yet, something pushed him in the other direction, though he wasn't sure what.

"I must be going," he declared, his voice thickened by the wine.

For a good long moment, Zio said nothing, but then the faintest brush of a smile touched his lips. "Ah, Magistrate Juza…" he inclined his head to Juza, before taking a few long strides to the other side of the room where he promptly accosted Betsy.

Juza stumbled forward, just a little off-balance. He moved, determined to avoid speaking to his wife again if he could, but just as he started off, Luthor Orcis swept Elizabeth right into Juza's path, ending their dance with a small flourish.

Elizabeth turned to him, smiling, almost immediately. "Juza. We haven't danced yet." He acknowledged this observation in sullen silence. He knew that his wife loved to dance, but he also knew that she neither shallow enough nor insipid enough to make such an offer just for the sake of a dance, or indeed for appearances. Elizabeth took a delight in shocking people. No, he concluded sourly, this offer could only be a peace offering.

As if a bloody dance is due recompense.

Juza was a reasonable man though, and despite his dislike of her, he could hardly refuse such a reasonable request. And she was still his wife. He nodded curtly to her, taking her hand stiffly.

After the first few steps, Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "People will think that something is wrong if you keep scowling like that. Is something wrong?"

Stumbling slightly on a crossover, Juza suggested, "The people I serve with are idiots? My days are filled with trivial crime? Nobody will meet my eyes? My marriage is ending?"

Despite his unusual clumsiness at the dancing, she managed to move just as gracefully as ever. There was a curious, nearly tender expression on her face. "Are you actually upset?" She sounded bemused. "Were your motives any different than what they must be…?"

"Then what," Juza snarled angrily, his grip on her hands tightening slightly. "Then, what?" he repeated. "What would that change, my dear?"

Her eyes widened. "Juza…"

Before he knew what was happening, he was falling hard backwards, crashing to the floor amidst the sound of shattering glass. His eyes stung, and it took him a moment to realize that wine was dripping from him. He'd tripped backwards over a small table as Parker was passing, and now he looked a fool, sitting in the midst of a mess. Juza felt a slow flush creeping through his skin as he realized what an utter fool he'd made of himself, and as he heard a few laughs from the other guests.

He lurched unsteadily back to his feet, and coldly finished the dance, then immediately left.

---

Juza lay unmoving on his back on his bed, but it was no good. It rarely was. He had never been much a one for sleep, had Juza. What was it Zio always said? Night is always coming. It was true. Always…

Juza restlessly turned over, but he couldn't escape his own thoughts as easily as he had the dinner party. Elizabeth… Yes, it was true. What was the bloody good of denying it? He missed her even now. Although… if he had ever needed confirmation that he would be best off to leave well enough alone, tonight had been that confirmation. Although it did gall him to see that it was bloody Eddard Crane that she'd set her eyes on.

Well, more power to Elizabeth. Why not, after all? Crane was relatively young, very wealthy, good-looking, and quite influential. With a sudden violent sigh, Juza swung up and staggered blearily from his bed, going over to study himself in his highly polished mirror. He looked shot.

With another groan, the Magistrate of Kadary made his way over to his favorite chair. It was too hot to sleep. After settling in, he fumbled with a bottle on the sideboard, before just giving up and taking a swig. The whiskey helped to calm his nerves, but there was still Elizabeth… Bloody Light, my mind's running circles. Juza was a little drunk and very tired. With a final groan, he reposed himself more comfortably in the chair. Just to sleep… blessed sleep, an escape, enough time for his mind to compose itself…

It was just as he nearly drifted off that he heard the pounding on his door. Juza forced himself up, and after a few moments of absently touching curios, he staggered over to the door, opened it, and peered blearily out. There were two young police lieutenants there, both white-faced.

"Couldn't believe it," one (Detton, he thought) was saying, "Horrible… and so, vicious it's… Magistrate!"

"Don't shout," Juza counseled him wearily.

The lieutenant, yes it was Detton, nervously ran a hand through his hair. "It's ah… I'm afraid that it's very serious, Magistrate. The whole household in fact, all of it… them…"

"What is it, exactly? Some kind of accident?"

Detton sighed. "Well… the face of it is this sir. The estate is all destroyed. They're all dead. Murder."

"Who," Juza demanded impatiently.

Detton shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, Magistrate. It's, ah… well, it's Ned Crane, sir."