Quentin remained seated at his desk, putting his pen down reluctantly as Cecil entered the room. He'd rather considered not giving the lad the time of day but Cecil had been rife with wild conspiracy theories ever since Roderick's death. Perhaps it was time to have a quiet chat with cousin Antonia about her son's behavior. A certain amount of grief could be tolerated but when one started ranting like a common street preacher, well, that was simply taking things too far. "Cecil, what is it that can't wait until the next meeting of the Council?"
At the center of the room, three feet out from Quentin's desk, the Seal of the Council was depicted on a rug. It was ignored for the most part, except for the more ritualistic Council traditions. Cecil walked up to the rug and bowed. Oh Good Lord, he wasn't about to … . And then Cecil Dabney Ashworth stepped onto the center of the rug, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, "Our son has lifted his heel against us. I accuse Rupert Edmund Giles of betraying our brotherhood. He has murdered my uncle and your cousin Roderick Travers Ashworth."
Quentin considered stabbing his letter opener through the young fool's heart, but no, Antonia would never forgive him. At least the imbecile had invoked the ritual when they were alone. If there had been witnesses Quentin would have had no choice but to act.
A worried frown crossed Cecil's face as Quentin stepped around the desk, violating the ritual. Quentin yanked him off the rug. This had to be nipped in the bud and quickly. Rupert Giles had far too many allies for a member of Quentin's own family to be seen leading an attack against him. "If the family were not in mourning, I would have you debarred from the Council. As it is you are taking a leave of absence, a year and a day, in honor of the deceased. You will spend this time indexing the demonology texts in the Ashworth family library. The resulting document will be dedicated to Roderick."
"But Giles killed him. Honor demands …"
"Honor?" Quentin slapped him. "Your honor belongs to the Council. Your duty is to the Council. The deaths have been investigated. Some young fool invoked a demon for fun. He paid the price, as did a number of others."
"Cui bono," Cecil said.
"What?"
"Who benefits."
Quentin wished he'd slapped Cecil harder. "I know what it means, you fool."
"Rupert Giles benefits from uncle's death. He is now next in line for a Slayer."
"He was already in the queue. All he had to do was be patient. Miss Summers can't last much longer. Roderick's Slayer might have been one of the longer lived ones, but that doesn't matter. Being a Watcher is a burden, not a picnic in the park."
"The man isn't what you think he is," Cecil said. "He's ruthless. He's …"
"Enough." Of course he's ruthless, Quentin thought. You don't get assigned to a Slayer if you aren't ruthless. "A year and a day, Cecil. I expect to be obeyed. In fact, I'm driving you to the manor myself this evening." He would speak with Antonia that night and in person. The boy was getting out of hand. Even grief didn't excuse such behavior. Attacking Rupert Giles. Quentin felt himself shudder. Did the idiot want to ruin the family's good name?