"Grace, is everything all ri-?" The question immediately died in Fortunato's throat as soon as he spied the red-faced Highlander. The Vodacce prudently took a step back before asking his new question. "Dare I ask what happened?"

"I don't want to take about it," growled Grace.

"Foreman-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" she hissed, still trembling. She swallowed, trying to regain some composure. "The rain's stopped. I'm goin' outside for some air."

"But Grace..."

"Let her be, Vodacce," Ulf clamped a firm hand down on Fortunato's shoulder, then nodded to Grace. The Highlander returned the nod with a grateful smile, but it faded fast as she exited the parlor.

"Do you really think it's a good idea for her to go off on her own like that, Ulf?" Concern was clear on Fortunato's face.

"It is never good to contradict a woman, Vodacce," shrugged the Vesten. "Diplomacy has at least taught me that much."

Fortunato rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Ulf. Foreman might have tried to do something!"

"'Might have', Vodacce?" Ulf arched a brow slightly. "Of course he probably tried to do something. Why else would Grace be upset? The Avalon is unscrupulous." The Vesten let out a small, thoughtful "hmph", then shrugged again. "Her pride has been shaken by this entire affair. We must trust that she will talk to us when she can. Meanwhile, take some comfort in that justice has not been cheated for the sake of vengeance. In that way then, the doctor has lost."

"That's very profound for a barbarian," murmured Fortunato with some surprise. He then sighed. "Well, Ulf, you were right about distrusting Foreman after all. Go ahead and say 'I told you so'."

"I told you so," the Vesten said impassively. Then he sighed as well, glancing back over where Grace had been. "Though I wish I had been wrong."

The doctor's heart skipped a beat as the cell door swung open with a loud creak. Satisfied that no one had been alerted by the noise, he quickly exited the cell, pocketing Grace's hairpin with a brief look of guilt. Foreman made his way to the table, grimacing now at his blood-stained shirt. The grimace became more thoughtful as he ran a thumb across the dried blood on one cuff. His fingers moved swiftly in unbuttoning. Pressed for time or not, Foreman had to risk granting himself the dignity that a fresh shirt allowed. It probably helped that the Explorers already had his clothing strewn out in the open.

The doctor threw his long overcoat on next, then grabbed his satchel. He tossed in his surgical kit and a roll of linen bandages. His eyes darted towards the dungeon door and, in doing so, he accidentally knocked his journal onto the floor as he reached for it. Blood freezing, the man frantically scrambled for both book and bookmark, making sure the ribbon was firmly planted back between its pages before the journal disappeared into his satchel. Foreman exhaled as quietly as he could, hoping again that no one had heard anything or was on their way down. He scooped up the three vials and placed them in the satchel as well.

The doctor's expression grew troubled, recalling now the snatches of conversation he had managed to overhear about Grace's magic. That had been an unexpected stroke of luck - but disturbing as well in its own right. He shot a glance at the stone ewer as if contemplating something, then turned and shrugged, instead looking through his belongings one more time. His sword wasn't among them. No doubt, the blade was elsewhere, either secured as evidence or claimed as a trophy. It didn't matter. Foreman's frown deepened as he moved over to the trunk itself. The Vesten may have successfully uncovered the vials, but he hadn't found everything.

He pressed two rivets on the lid, then pushed out a particularly tarnished band of metal. A secret drawer popped out of the side of the lid. For a heartbeat, the Avalon stiffened in hesitation, then finally drew out the item that laid in it. With eyes cold and hard, Foreman beheld the pistol now in his hand.

"It's the inquest I'm dreading the most, Ulf," Fortunato grimaced. "Foreman's execution may be swift when it actually happens, but before we get to it, I have this sinking dread of Posen's people constantly belaboring the point and asking to repeat matters over and over again. Must be all the mud sticking in their ears..."

Ulf rolled his eyes. "So you are back to the mud again, Vodacce?"

"It's either blame the mud or basic human obstinacy," said Fortunato wryly. "I haven't even gotten into the whole situation with the Inquisition yet. That's a potentially sticky mess in of itself."

"Indeed," the Vesten nodded, pausing. "They may be too embarrassed to attempt anything publicly. We will have to watch the shadows. The doctor will only take up so much of their time and efforts."

"Joy," sighed the Vodacce. He shook his head ruefully. "'The murderer of one of our own? Nothing to worry about! A new Syrneth artifact found? Chaos! Damnation! Burn the heretics!'" Fortunato made a hideously exaggerated face, waving his hands wildly and then chuckled. "I tell you, Ulf. It'll be a relief having things get back to normal."

"Agreed, Vodacce," The trace of a small formed on Ulf's face, then he grew pensive. "I only hope things will get back to normal for Grace as well."

"Like you said, Ulf. It's just something we'll have to trust her on when she can." Fortunato contemplated the back of his hand as he moved down the hall. "You know, Grace would be absolutely furious if we went behind her back and attempted to interrogate Foreman again without her present."

"The rage of a drachen," nodded the Vesten, following a step behind. "Especially if she thinks we introduced the skull of the Avalon to his cell wall because of how he treated her."

"Which is furthest from the truth, of course! We don't know what was said or done after we left. All we know is what happened prior! It's not our fault Foreman insisted upon being stubborn and tight-lip-" Both men turned the corner towards the stairs.

And immediately froze in their tracks.

"The word you're looking for is 'tight-lipped', I believe, Signore Valeri," Doctor Foreman said calmly, pistol carefully raised at the Vodacce and Vesten. "Indoor voices now, gentlemen. No sudden moves and hands up where I can see them."

It was something to be said for the state of Fortunato's life that he and Ulf had already experienced many people threatening them with death prior to encountering Doctor Foreman. Yet in the Avalon's cool gaze Fortunato saw little to get a fix on. No cocksure smugness of the calculating mastermind, no cold-hearted deadness of the mercenary or self-righteous manic delusion of the zealot. Not even the blatant trembling of the cowardly henchman trying to save his own skin with a bluff. Just a man in a coat with a satchel and a gun. Even now, the man was disturbingly unreadable and the Vodacce recalled Ulf's earlier observations about the doctor being too in control of himself. Fortunato shot a quick glance towards the seething Vesten, no doubt measuring their chances if one of them chose to suddenly rush Foreman.

"First poison, then the blade and now a gun," muttered the Vodacce, eying his own impotently sheathed sword. "You're getting more and more desperate every time we see you, Foreman. Still a bit of a surprise though."

"Vesten missed it," the doctor said with no humour. He shrugged. "Besides, you have my sword elsewhere."

"And here I thought you weren't a murderer?" The Vodacce's tone was dry and mocking.

"I'm not," Foreman didn't take the bait, keeping the gun fixed on both men. "But I will defend myself if I have to."

"Is that what killing Baron Adelbert and Brother Tedmund were then? 'Defending' yourself?"

"Shut up, Vodacce," Ulf grumbled. Out of the corner of Fortunato's eye, he could make out a slight nod from Ulf. "Avalon, if you must shoot, shoot Vodacce first. It is his turn to play bullet catcher."

"My turn?" Fortunato turned towards the Vesten with a glare as his chin darted downward briefly. "You're still holding that incident with Van der Trask against me? You ungrateful..." He immediately switched to Vendel. "[...flea-bitten we jump him on two-!]"

"[I don't think so, gentlemen,]" interrupted the doctor matter-of-factly in Vendel. He then switched back. "A nice attempt though. Now turn around. Neither of you want me firing this."

"Afraid it'll bring the house down on your head?" An incensed Fortunato rolled his eyes as he and Ulf turned around.

"In a matter of speaking," Foreman said cryptically.

Ulf shook his head, growling. "You will not escape, Avalon."

"If I meant to escape, I wouldn't be doing this," They heard a sigh escape from the man. "But you're right though, Signore Valeri. I am desperate. And I'm sorry - I'm so sorry - that I have to involve you two in this. I doubt either of you believe me, but there it is. Now, back to the library."

Fortunato's eyes narrowed sharply at that last sentence. "Your employers must be paying you a fortune to get their hands on that artifact, Foreman. No wonder Grace was so disappointed in you..." He risked a glance back to see a look of regret now on the doctor's face.

"She already thinks the worst of me," Tone quiet, the Avalon just shook his head. "What's one more added to the list?"

The three men walked, Vesten flanking Vodacce with the Avalon two steps behind them. "We could make a run for it. Call his bluff...he has to be bluffing," whispered Fortunato to Ulf through gritted teeth. "The worst he could do is shoot you."

"No, Vodacce. Something is not right here." Ulf grimaced. "The Avalon moves without sense. Why not imprison us? Why take us along? We must stall for time. Find out what he really is up to. We cannot risk him going after Grace or anyone else." A beat. "Except the fat Vendel. Him, we can risk."

"Foreman said he was desperate. Maybe he's finally running out of cleverness," muttered the Vodacce. "You see an opening, take it. I don't care if he works for Reis himself. Knowing that won't do us any good if we end up dead!"

"We're here, gentlemen. Step inside, all the way to the chest, Signore Valeri." The doctor gestured a little with the pistol. "Then you, Mister Pedersen, opposite wall."

Fortunato bit back a grimace as he obeyed. But out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Vesten's girth blocking Foreman's line of sight while the Vodacce entered the library. In that brief moment, his hand quickly dropped to his hilt, nudging it a little out of his sheath. As Fortunato reached the chest and turned, he silently prayed that the Avalon didn't notice.

Shutting the library door, Foreman then stood off to the side of it. "Open it."

"Far be it for me to advise a murderer and a thief," Fortunato smirked in spite of himself. "but wouldn't keeping it in the chest make for an easier escape?"

"Open it, please, Signore Valeri." The Avalon's dark eyes narrowed and Fortunato thought he detected a hint of what might be frustration now in the man's voice. Fortunato looked over to the impassive Ulf and gave an elaborate shrug, but then opened the chest. "Take the item out carefully and place it on the table."

"And then what? Do you want a little song and dance too? I should warn you, Ulf might be better for that. I step on far too many toes," The Vodacce's tone was light, the banter coming easier than he thought as he placed the spiky relic on the table. He noted the doctor's eyes darting between both men before being drawn to the artifact.

"I know both of you have attended several expeditions with the Explorers before. So you must have some idea of field protocol." Foreman pointed at the artifact. "Take a close look at that and tell me what's wrong with it."

Fortunato frowned as he and Ulf shared a look, the revelation that the doctor knew more than a little something of their time in the Explorers Society a dangerously uncomfortable one. The frown was still on his face as he looked over the unchanged artifact. Four thick, bone-hard shells attached to each other at the bottom covered in thin, narrow spikes uniformly ashen-white and smooth. Fortunato then shot a baleful look over at the doctor and pointedly poked one of the shells, half-hoping that one of the spikes would suddenly fly off and impale the Avalon. Nothing happened.

"What's wrong with it is that it's not properly secured and there's a man pointing a gun at me." The Vodacce's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"It's clean, Signore Valeri. Totally clean," Foreman shook his head, taking a few steps now towards the table. "Mannheim said that that thing was uprooted by a boar, but there's not a speck of dirt or mud anywhere on it - inside or out!"

"Rain could have washed it off," rumbled Ulf.

"Every nook and cranny though? Yet Mannheim said he found it like that...," The doctor looked more animated as he faced Ulf. Meanwhile, seeing the Avalon's focus elsewhere, Fortunato nudged his blade a little further out. "Eisen mud sticks to everything for a damn long time, Mister Pedersen."

"It could be magic. The artifact keeps mud off itself."

"Well, that's easy enough to test then...catch!" With his free hand, the doctor suddenly reached into his coat pocket, drew something out and tossed it to the surprised Vesten. Catching it, Ulf recognized it as one of the jars filled with soil that Foreman had collected. "Homemade Eisen mud. Just add water. Smear a little of that onto the artifact, will you please? If it suddenly flies off, then it's the artifact itself, but if it stays-"

"Enough of this nonsense!" Growling, the Vodacce suddenly lunged forward towards the doctor, drawing his blade free. Foreman immediately whipped the gun towards Ulf. The Vesten rolled his eyes and sighed audibly, the grim look now on his face clearly saying "not again".

"Stay right where you are, Valeri." His eyes wide, the Avalon spoke rapidly, the hint of frustration in his voice from before now threatening to turn frantic. "Don't make me use this. I'll-!"

"No. No more threats, Foreman. No more games," A cold smile crept upon Fortunato's face as he slowly closed the distance. Still grimacing, Ulf followed suit, but Foreman held his ground. "I don't know what you're playing at, but it ends now. There's nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. You can claim you're no killer 'til you're blue in the face, but now that your back's up against the wall, you'll pull that trigger!"

They could see the man's grip tense up, teetering on the edge of trembling. "No. No, there's got to be a better way." Flinching, Foreman lowered the pistol, eyes now looking as if he were in pain. "...I didn't do this," he croaked.

"Theus, I am sick of hearing you keep saying that," muttered Fortunato, the expression on his face a mixture of relief and annoyance. "Ulf, go headbutt him again or something."

"Lower your weapon, Vodacce." The Vesten hefted the jar of dirt, then eyed Foreman thoughtfully. "You have bought yourself some time, Doctor. Use it wisely."

To say Fortunato was shocked by his comrade's response would be an understatement. "Are you insane, you bear-skinned buffoon?" He hissed. "Don't tell me you're actually buying all this nonsense!"

Ulf remained unflustered. "I told you something is not right here."

"You also told me that you didn't trust Foreman, that he'll get inside your head. That's what he's done, Ulf...he's gotten into your head! Need I remind you that he's already killed two people and was going to kill us and - and what in Legion's name do you think you're doing now?" The Vodacce directed that last question towards the doctor, punctuating it with a warning thrust of his sword.

"Putting this away, of course," Shrugging, David resumed placing his gun into his satchel. "Makes matters a bit more comfortable, I think."

"What? No! Give me that..." Fortunato sounded harried as the doctor ignored him. Ulf, take that away from him! Ulf?" The Vesten didn't budge. The Vodacce gritted his teeth. "You're still mad at me at that whole gun-pointing thing, aren't you?"

"Yes." Ulf opened the jar as he crossed over to the table. He stuck a finger in it, drew out a dollop of mud, then carefully smeared it on one of the artifact's shells. "Nothing has changed. The mud is staying on."

"Of all the idiotic..." Fortunato rolled his eyes in frustration. "We don't even know who this man really is! And here he is yammering on about mud. What the hell does mud have to do with murder?"

"It's doubt, Signore Valeri. A sliver of doubt." Foreman's gaze was bright and intense. "I can't explain everything and I know I seem odd in my actions, but I implore you, follow me and hear me out. Just for a little longer. If I can't convince you then..." The intensity in his eyes wavered slightly, replaced by an emotional weariness. "...then I give you permission to strongarm me back to that cell."

"Well, so long as I have your permission..." More frustration on his face as Fortunato sighed, casting a leery eye towards the Vesten. "If anything happens, I'm blaming you for this, Ulf. Where do we begin?"

"Back to my room, for starters," The doctor rubbed his hands, confidence creeping back into his voice and body language. "There's something I'm rather curious now to check out..."

The halls upstairs were thankfully empty as they made their way back to Foreman's room. Opening the door, the bedroom was bare now without the Avalon's belongings save a small splotch of dried blood on the stone floor from where David's sword fell from the wardrobe. And it was straight to the wardrobe that Foreman now made his way to. He threw its door wide open, peering at the back wall with keen interest. "I wonder..."

"You wonder what?" Fortunato eyed the Avalon with skepticism.

"Well, I wonder a few things. Starting with like how Mannheim knew to look right here for my sword. I mean, if I actually killed anyone, the last place I'd want to hide a weapon is in my own room, especially if everyone is going to show up in a matter of moments...aha!" Foreman's eyes lit up with discovery. "Come here...quick!"

"What is it?" Ulf approached first, looking over towards where the doctor was pointing. The Vesten's brows arched in surprise as he realized what was found. He reached out and pressed the faint discolored impression in the wood. The back of the wardrobe slid open.

"You don't see that every day," murmured David, sticking his head into the passage. "Looks like it goes both ways. And that way is towards Tedmund's room..." Gesturing, he stepped fully into the wardrobe without a glance back. "Fetch that lamp on the desk, will you please, Signore Valeri? Don't want to stumble in the dark! Mind your head, Mister Pedersen. It's a bit cramped in here."

"You heard the man, Vodacce," Ulf followed after Foreman, ducking his head.

"But-!" Fortunato bit back a curse and instead went back into the hall, heading towards Tedmund's room in the normal fashion.

Back in the passage, the doctor paused. "I want to thank you, Mister Pedersen, for listening to me back there in the library. I hope you realize that I was never going to fire."

"Make no mistake, Doctor, I do not trust you," Ulf said, an edge of hardness to his voice. "You deal far too much in secrets and I believe you are dangerous."

David nodded, not disputing him, asking quietly "So why do you believe me now?"

"You have the eye of the hunter, but not the heart." The Vesten frowned thoughtfully. "I think you have known death. More than what has happened here. Yet you did not run when your own life was on the line downstairs. And you have faith in the absurd," A faint smile crossed his face. "I was wrong. You are no coward."

"The absurd's all I've got sometimes," A brief chuckle escaped the Avalon. "I think we're here..." He grasped at the wooden wall, feeling around. "I think I've got a crack right here!" With a small grunt, the doctor pushed aside the panel, then pushed open the wardrobe door. Brother Tedmund's Inquisitor robe still laid haphazardly on the bed and a much larger patch of dried blood stained the stone floor. A hunched-over finally stepped out of the wardrobe as David examined its door, a thoughtful frown growing on his face.

"Ulf!" From the opposite end of the room, the door knob rattled against the lock. "Ulf, are you there?" The muffled hiss of the Vodacce became more frantic. With long strides, Ulf made his way to the door, then paused. He bent down to take a closer look. "Doctor," Ulf waved the Avalon over, pointing towards the lock. Foreman let out a low whistle as he made out the faint smudge of dried blood on the lock. The Vesten frowned as he carefully unlocked the door. Sword drawn, Fortunato nearly stumbled inside as the door swung open.

"You forgot the lamp, Vodacce," grunted Ulf.

Fortunato only glared at him, then turned towards the doctor, whose gaze was now carefully darting between the door and the wardrobe. "So Brother Tedmund did lock himself in his room," murmured David. "The killer must have used that passageway to steal my sword and then ambush Tedmund. Pardon me, Signore Valeri, you're in my way..." David ushered Fortunato off to the side, then cautiously peeked out into the hall. He drew back and adjusted the door, leaving it open slightly. "I think it's becoming clearer...can't believe I let myself get that careless. I was the perfect fool!"

"And just what is becoming clearer?" asked a confused Fortunato.

"Whoever killed Tedmund unlocked this door afterwards, accidentally leaving just a little bit of blood behind on the lock as he opened it. We all assumed it was Tedmund who screamed, but what if what the killer instead?" The doctor tapped his fingers together, brow furrowed in thought. "He opened the door just enough and saw where I was down the hall, enough that I didn't hear anything. He then went back through the wardrobe and screamed, drawing everyone's attention upstairs and giving him time to plant my now-bloodstained sword back in my wardrobe. Right up against the door for it to fall out. And I jumped head first into the trap...," David shook his head, chastizing himself. "Everyone saw me here first as I tried to save Brother Tedmund. But..." He gestured back towards the wardrobe. "...the killer wasn't able to shut the wardrobe back all the way in his escape."

"You were in the hall?" Fortunato frowned.

"I did say I was exploring the keep beforehand, Signore Valeri..." Foreman swiftly strode back out into and down the hall. Ulf and Fortunato rushed to keep up with him. The Avalon stopped by another door down a ways. "...right here specifically. Trying to get inside Baron Adelbert's room."

"The Baron's room?" Ulf frowned. "Why?"

"I wanted to examine his body again," David reached into his pocket. "Grace didn't tell you that?"

"She didn't tell us anything...she looked rather upset." Fortunato matched the Vesten's frown. "Just what happened in the dungeon, Doctor?"

"Ah, upset. Yes..." Foreman stiffened, looking a touch disconcerted as he finally pulled out the twisted hairpin. "That might be because of how I got my hands on this." He crouched down and started fiddling with the lock.

Fortunato's frown deepened. "And you got that how exactly?"

"It's no good. The metal's all bent out of shape now," muttered Foreman. "Might take a while to see if that secret passage reaches the Baron's room or-"

*WHUMP!* The door suddenly gave way to a heavy Vesten boot.

"-not." David blinked, popping back to his feet. "Of course, there's something to be said about the application of blunt force."

"It worked on you," muttered Ulf. "Remember that, Doctor."

"Yes," Reflexively, Foreman rubbed his head, giving the Vesten a healthy nod of respect. He quickly stepped into the room. In a few scant moments, he came right back out with a troubled look. "No body. Where is it?"

"You're sure the Baron is actually dead?" Fortunato asked with a slight smirk.

"As dead as Brother Tedmund. Whose room was locked up as well afterwards," The doctor frowned. "So where are their corpses now? You think you'd want them ready to return to the mainland for a proper burial."

"Herr Mannheim would know. He said he was taking care of the Baron's body, did he not?" The Vesten folded his arms across his chest.

"Mannheim..." David echoed. His eyes went wide as he rushed back to Tedmund's room. "...Mannheim who was the first to the wardrobe after I noticed it was ajar. Mannheim who distracted us with Tedmund's Inquisitor robe so we didn't look deeper in it."

"Foreman, what the hell are you getting at?" Fortunato looked confused again as the Avalon returned to the wardrobe.

"And Mannheim who knew exactly where to look for the murder weapon. He was in on the killings all along!" The doctor's voice came the darkened passage. "Do bring that lamp along this time, Signore Valeri. It's time to see how deep this rabbit hole goes!"

"Secret entrances into every bedroom," From behind them, neither David nor Fortunato could see Ulf's grim expression. "I wonder if the Baron ever knew?"

"A family like the Von Gunthers, there's bound to be a few secrets lost along the way. But someone found this one," The Avalon kept his voice low. "Careful. Feels like we're coming upon some sort of staircase leading back downwards. Raise that lamp a bit, please, Signore Valeri."

"About time," muttered Fortunato, his free hand carefully resting on the hilt of his sword just in case. "Be ready for anything."

The staircase eventually came to an end, leading to what appeared to be just a wall. The doctor pressed his ear against it, listening for anything behind as he felt around for a handle or latch. He gripped hold of something and nodded to the Vodacce, then carefully pushed. The trio crept into a room, finding it filled with various dried goods and other storage.

"What is this?" Fortunato scanned their surroundings. "Some sort of pantry?"

"Aye," nodded Foreman, whispering. "The door is just a ways off. If I recall things correctly, that means the kitchen will then be straight ahead and beyond that is a hall leading towards Mannheim's and the other servants' quarters."

"You have been exploring," murmured the Vesten, clearly impressed.

"Not nearly enough if I missed that passage," David sighed, shaking his head as he went over to the pantry door. He opened it...

...and came face to face with a suddenly shocked Father Sigurd, plum dropping from his hand with a squishy splut. Before he could scream, Ulf quickly yanked him into the pantry with David immediately shutting the door.

"Muh-muh-!" The priest's mouth gasped and puffed like a fish out of water. "Murderer! HELP!" Sigurd blinked, finally noticing Ulf and Fortunato. A small hiccup of terror escaped him. "Theus, you're all in this together...I knew it! And Lady MacKenzie must be in on this too! She's out distracting Herr Mannheim while you go kill the rest of us! HELP! HE-"

*WHUMP!*

Trying his best not to smile, Fortunato made sure the Vendel's unconscious body was out of the way. "Thank you, Ulf. Diplomacy saves the day yet ag-" His eyes suddenly widened in alarm. "Grace!"

"She said she was going outside," The Vesten met Fortunato's gaze with a cold look of realization. "She did not have her claymore with her."

"Mannheim said he'd show Grace where he found the artifact once the rain stopped," The doctor grimaced as he reached for the door. "We haven't a moment to lose!"