Bloodshed

I am now convinced that the crimes of this guilty land can never be purged away but by blood.

- John Brown, 1859

"Demitus of Marti's Hill is dead."

Raoul had been sitting at his table in his Persopolis room, working through paperwork with Flyndan Whiteford doing the same thing next to him when Domitan of Masbolle had entered.

Raoul groaned without looking up "Another one? Is it the Shadow again?"

"Who else?" Flyn said humorlessly.

"It could have been Maggur," Dom offered without conviction.

"Wish it was Maggur," Raoul muttered. "Then we would at least know who he was."

"Or she," Flyn reminded him in the tone of one who didn't expect to be listened to but was bound to do his duty anyways. "Keladry of Mindelan is the most likely suspect."

"I've told you, Flyn, it isn't her," Raoul said flatly. "Not only has she been missing for over two years, but all the evidence points to a young boy."

"Exactly. She's been missing," Flyn said.

"And the young boy?"

Flyn shrugged. "She's a girl. Besides, she could have recruited someone." He paused. "You'd think you'd want it to be her."

Raoul shook his head, letting out a tired sigh. "I don't know, Flyn, I don't know."

"If the Master Advocate or my lord of Stone Mountain had been the first to day, I'd say it was her," Dom offered. "But it wasn't. It was some rapist, remember."

Raoul shivered. He did, in fact, remember.

It had been a nice day in Corus, despite his somber mood. Days earlier, Vinson of Genlith had been forced to confess his crimes by the Chamber; Joren of Stone Mountain had been killed. But none of this was reflected in the yellow banners flapping in the wind, the bustle of people standing or walking everywhere. Market vendors shouted, the red and green and purple and blue and white and yellow of tents cluttering the streets. Well-dressed men rode in high horses, a sharp contrast to the thinly clothed children running across the street. On one side, the temple of the Goddess stood, grim-faced women guarding the land. Raoul smiled - Alanna told him that she had vowed to become a knight after seeing them.

As he walked, not sure where he was going, a scream ripped the air. Raoul spun around immediately.

"MURDER!" a high pitched female voice shouted. "MURDER!"

Pinpointing the location of the shout, Raoul dashed towards the scene as the sharp sound of a Provost's Guard's whistle pierced the air, along with the curious people walking towards it, the Provost's Guards running, and opposing the panicked people fleeing. The previous, somewhat organized chaos deteriorated completely, people pushing and shoving.

"HALT!" Raoul bellowed over the noise. Immediately, everyone except for the Provost's Guards stopped in their tracks, looking for the source. Several pairs of Guards stepped in, taking control with their batons, and Raoul left for the position of the scream.

He arrived at a nice-looking flat, the walls painted, roof tiles fixed, and strode inside, watching the Guards do their work. The woman was the deceased's cleaning lady, a thin brunette. Her face was completely white, her eyes wide and panicked, breath coming in short gasps. As she led the Guards to the room, Raoul decided to follow, nodding to the Guards. He didn't work very closely with the Lord Provost, but he knew the Guards to a certain degree.

All thoughts in this vein fled as soon as he entered the room the man was still in. At first glance it seemed completely ordinary, a bed, wall-hangings, a carpet, and what-not. But on the bed was a pool of blood, trickling over the golden blanket to drip onto the grass-green carpet, staining it irrevocably. On top of it lay a man, his face frozen in a look of anguish. His arm hung limply, half severed, raw muscle and bone and sinew showing, blood still spurting out, and his entire body was pale. Someone had castrated him before killing him, because his lower abdomen was bloody, red contrasting sharply with white. And on his chest, most chillingly, was written RAPIST. There were three scratch marks on his face and light imprints on the carpet, but there was otherwise no hint as to who the killer had been.

His mind went first to Kel, Raoul admitted. Kel with her bone-cold eyes and the anger burning under her skin. He could imagine her standing, looming over the scene coldly, a tiny smile of satisfaction curled on her contemptuous lips. He nearly saw it, for a brief, flickering moment that made his breath catch in fear and anticipation.

But then the mages examined the body and found no trace of who it could be, and Kel didn't know how to hide these things. The odds that she had found someone who did were low. And some hope died in him, though he knew he could be relieved, as he walked out.

He didn't see Corus when he walked back.

With a breath that shuddered, bordering on a gasp, he pulled himself out of memory, but he could not shake the image of the mutilated man out of his head. There was some sort of wild eeriness around the death that made it so different from the others he had seen previously. And those letters, shining red, crusting around the edges, hovered in his vision...

Raoul shook his head to clear it. He sighed, not quite wanting to confront another body later. "Well, I suppose I'll have to read the reports soon enough."

"With all due respect, sir, you read the reports?" Dom asked in surprise. "Why?"

"Don't you remember?" Flyn said drily. "Old conservatives decided that the Lord Provost wasn't good enough for nobles and racked up a fuss. So the king went and put our Lord Commander in charge instead."

Raoul made a face. "I hate Jon when he does things like this."

"What about Jon?" a voice said. All three of them jumped - they hadn't heard the door open.

Alanna the Lioness walked over, taking the wide strides of a knight lightened by the little lady training she'd received - or maybe it was just a sense of self preservation. Her red hair was tied up and coiled around her head, making it look like she had cut it. Violet eyes blazed as usual in an abnormally pale face. Behind her walked her squire, Neal, comically taller. Dom pulled out a chair for her and pointedly ignored his cousin. "Sit, Lady Knight."

Alanna smiled at Dom and took it, plopping down with an ungracefulness that came from nightly knightly exhaustion. Since two months after Kel's disappearance, when Alanna had suddenly begun riding with the Own, Alanna and Dom had shared a relationship that even George would have objected to if it hadn't been Dom, because Dom flirted with everyone. Behind her, Neal stuck out his tongue before sitting down himself.

"So, what was it about Jon?" Alanna said once she had situated herself.

Instantly, the mood, which had been taking a slight upturn, sobered again.

Raoul spoke first, hesitantly. "You heard about my lord of Marti's Hill?"

"He was Quinden's father," Neal said, his voice stilted.

Raoul looked at him with pity. Neal had been most affected by Kel's disappearance, having been her closest friend. Doubtless, he had heard the rumors.

"Dead?" Alanna said. "By the Avenger's hand?"

It was impossible not to notice Alanna's choice of words. Flyn looked away, Dom smiled in amusement, Neal coughed behind his hand, leaving Raoul to sigh, preparing to be the voice of reason. "Um, Alanna -"

"I know, I know," Alanna rolled her eyes. "It gets the conservatives all scared. Doesn't change the fact that his 'victims' all deserved it."

"Her," Flyn insisted. "It's probably Mindelan."

Neal flinched, his eyes an unreadable mix of emotions while Alanna scowled. "Do you have to bring her up?"

Flyn rolled his eyes. "Why is everyone so against that idea? It's not like she's killed anyone worth living."

"So you're joining the 'Avenger' team now," Dom said drily. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Jinoh Landin - rapist. Cora Stinson - murderess. Ebroin of Genlith - hated commoners; had many whipped viciously. Hansen -"

"Do you really have to list them all?" Raoul asked tiredly, resting his head on his hand, the images and report details flashing before his eyes at each name. "I have to deal with this every godscursed day."

Flyn looked completely unrepentant as he apologized. "Sorry, my lord. True, though."

"How do you think he's doing it, though?" Dom asked.

"Doing what?"

"Killing everyone undetected, obviously," drawled Neal in his usual dry tones that held no hint of his previous reaction to Kel's name.

Every eye slid to Raoul, who shrugged helplessly. "We don't know. At this point, we think it's a mage, a really powerful one with a grudge."

"That sounded uncannily like Daine," Alanna pointed out. "Not that I'm accusing her, of course." Despite that, Raoul chose to jot Daine? on his notes. You never knew.

Flyn, ever suspicious, or at least not invested in either Daine or Kel, looked thoughtful. "Didn't she do something in Carthak or other?"

"Destroyed a palace and rendered it inhabitable for at least a year," Neal replied promptly. "You know, the usual."

Alanna rolled her eyes. "There was divine intervention, squire, as you well know."

"Besides, Daine isn't the type to kill coldly," Raoul said, hoping he could close the discussion. "Even though she probably could."

It didn't work, of course. "And she has that mage-lover of hers," Neal, of all people, chose to insert. Alanna smacked him over the head, muttering something about jealousy. Neal glared at her and continued, rubbing his head. "So that makes her doubly possible."

"But why?" Dom said reasonably. "Unless I was right all along, and magic really does addle people."

"It's the insanity that gives you the gift," Alanna said drily. "It ran in my family, at least. And it'd explain Numair. And Daine. And my father. And now that I think of it, Meathead here as well."

"Hey!"

Raoul snorted. "Jon as well," he couldn't help adding. "But Thayet doesn't have it, and she's just as insane."

"Are you allowed to say that, my lord?" Flyn wondered aloud.

"Jon won't care," Alanna said frankly. "He knows it's true."

"It's the only thing keeping him alive in these crazy times," Dom said quietly, sobering them all. "You heard about that riot in Dockmarket yesterday?"

Raoul had been praying for a change of topic, but not to this one.

Around the tent, people made the Sign. "Five people dead," Flyn whispered. "And that's the third one this month."

"It's the middle class," Alanna said grimly. "They've heard about the Avenger, the conservative's attempts to stop him, and his victims, and they won't stand for it. Not after centuries of oppression."

Raoul nodded, unpleasant memories of that first, unsteady year of Jon's reign, back when nobody believed in him. "Jon always said those laws would breed bloodshed. That was why he and Thayet worked so hard to get rid of them." He sighed. "Well, nobody ever called him a fool."

They sat in silence for a while before a rap on the tent flap sounded. Whoever was knocking somehow actually managed to make a sound. Raoul sighed, shouting "Enter!"

The flap opened, light flooding in, and all of them squinted. A messenger entered with a stack of files. After attempting what looked like a bow, he put them on Raoul's table where Raoul pointed, bowed properly, and then left.

Raoul took a cursory flip through the stack. They were all reports on the recent murder of Demitus of Marti's Hill. He rubbed his neck, a crick already forming in it just from the thought of looking through all of them.

"Mithros, strike down all paperwork," Raoul groaned aloud, to the amusement of the others in the rom.

Alanna vaulted lightly to her feet. "Well, I'll leave you to your work," she said, walking out. "Come, squire."

Neal sighed, getting up slower. "You wouldn't consider taking me for your squire, would you, my lord? I'll help you with the paperwork. Mine is the mind of an aca-"

"Are you coming?" Alanna demanded from the doorway of the tent.

"Not even a little?" he pleaded to Raoul, before Alanna physically dragged him out.

Raoul chuckled at the squire's offer. To be honest, he might have accepted if Neal's training as a healer hadn't been more important. While Kel hadn't seemed quite human, at some times, having her as a squire had made him realize he liked teaching, more than he'd expected.

But Neal was needed as a knight-healer, and he had a pile of paperwork to face. He flipped through it again, seeing detailed descriptions and pictures and swiftly conducted interviews, any evidence they could dredge up. While he knew he was only put in this position to appease the conservatives and the real work was being done by the same people as it always was, duty made him give it more than a cursory examination.

He started with the document on the top.

The subject, the lord Demitus of Marti's Hill, was found dead in his room at nine hours, twenty one minutes after midnight on the thirteenth day of May by his wife. He appeared to be sleeping, a grimace on his face, according to her. However, closer examination found that he had been poisoned with the root of cerrtem, generally used to lure and kill rabid animals. The invader left no tracks except for a few, small claw marks on the subject's face. There were no apparent openings in the room that an invader could have entered through…

It went on in that vein for a while, though there was remarkably little evidence. Certainly not enough to warrant the amount of paper he had on his desk. Raoul closed his eyes. Who could it be? Who would have the ability, and the motive to do this? Who?

Just outside, within earshot of the tent, a little bird that had been perched took off, flying towards the distant woods.

It came to a stop before a small boy, who greeted it with a smile and a pet. "Good bird, Arrow," he murmured as he removed the listening charm concealed under the bird's wing.

The bird shot him a reproachful look, as if scolding him for having expected anything else.

The boy chuckled. "'Course I knew you could do it," he said. "Well, go wherever you're supposed to."

Arrow turned away from him, flipping up his tail, before flying off.

For a moment the boy watched Arrow fly off, a childish smile on his face. It faded as he looked down at the listening charm in his hand. A stroke made it play back its contents softly, and he stood there, listening.

A very different smile spread across his face. Yes, this was good. This was certainly good.

Thank you to everyone who's been waiting for this chapter, especially those who reviewed the last one. Updates will be fairly sporadic due to school and other commitments.