Forty-five. Forty-six. Forty-seven. Olya and Rodri led. Svon's there. That's everyone, Etrius realized, glancing at Sable and murmuring, "You get the right count?"
"Forty-seven children, three total staff, two priests-in-training," Sable recited, having definitely been reciting that as an under-her-breath mantra as they walked, her shoulders easing, "That's all of them. Do we follow or are we splitting up at this point?"
"Neither," he heard, giving a relieved sigh as he turned to face Father Seras. He hadn't known for certain who was going where, but had hoped his mentor would be the one to meet them. Mostly he had hoped his mentor wasn't involved in the trap dismantling process, but he would never admit that out loud. Not when Rodri's mentor was smack in the middle of it and utterly irreplaceable to the endeavor.
"Father Seras," Etrius said, stepping into his mentor's fierce hug and completely unashamed to return it, "I am so glad you're here."
"As if I would let anyone else take this job," Father Seras scoffed, stepping back and tucking his hands back into his sleeves, entirely professional once again, "Obric is explaining what is happening to them, I'm certain you can receive a briefing on fallout duties later, Mistress Sable, but a Fourth Court Justicar arrived just before you did and wishes to get your testimony before any of you hear things you don't already know."
Rodri jogged over in time to hear that last bit, having been helping carry some of the younger children who'd grown tired en route, and hesitated visibly before asking, "Can we know if anyone got hurt?"
"No one died," Seras assured him sympathetically, "Or is badly injured. I'm certain there are bruises and the like, but nothing terrible. I'm sure Kari can give a more detailed update once you've given your statement."
"Okay," Rodri whispered, still looking more anxious than relieved. Etrius couldn't blame him, 'nothing terrible' was a very flexible descriptor.
Father Seras nodded shortly and turned on his heel, Etrius quickly nudging Sable and she let go of his arm and followed on Father Seras' heels, letting him wrap an arm around Rodri's shoulders and tug him along in their wake. No fire was flickering at Rodri's fingers yet, but Etrius had no doubt that if they had been in the Hall, Rodri would have a small flame dancing in his palm. Instead he was worrying at the sun-blessed steel arrowhead bracelet Etrius had honestly never seen Rodri without after the Eldest had gifted it to him.
"We can ask Kari anyway," Etrius murmured, "All you have to do is say you asked on the way here. Say you asked privately, I'd never have known."
Rodri visibly hesitated, looking sorely tempted before shaking his head, saying quietly, "I can wait. But thanks, Etrius."
"You can change your mind at any time," Etrius assured him.
"I'll be fine Etrius. But thanks," Rodri repeated, hooking an arm around his waist in a sideways embrace before stepping forward and out from under Etrius' arm, just in time for them to reach the office that the Justicar had evidently taken over.
A Sunsguard Patrolman was standing at the door, and had already knocked and relayed their presence by the time they reached it, holding the door open for them. They all gave the usual polite nod or murmur of thanks when they slipped past, and the Justicar was standing when they filed in.
"Justicar Alfrid," Father Seras greeted politely, "My student Etrius, Firestarting Acolyte, Rodri, a Firestarting Initiate, and Mistress Sable, an employee at the southern charity temple."
"Excellent, thank you, Holiness Seras," the man replied, gaze sweeping the three of them and speaking to them directly when he continued, "I would prefer to take statements and ask clarifying questions of each of you individually. You are entitled to a trusted adult witness to said questioning, though I would prefer someone who is currently in this temple complex for timeliness' sake."
"Father Seras would be fine for me," Rodri said, Etrius nodding sharply in agreement. He hadn't wanted to speak first, mostly to avoid pressuring Rodri or Sable into agreeing to Father Seras being their witness for sheer convenience.
"Mistress Sable, we can postpone your questioning until another staff member is available…" the Justicar trailed off when Sable shook her head.
"I am familiar with Holiness Seras, he will suffice for myself as well," Sable informed him. No one looked particularly surprised, though one of the Sunsguard did raise an eyebrow. Etrius wasn't surprised at all, though saying Father Seras and Sable were familiar with one another was a bit of an exaggeration – he told Sable everything, and Father Seras knew Sable was his best friend. Father Seras would rather gut himself than let her come to harm for that connection alone, and Sable had at least some understanding of how very fiercely Father Seras defended him from any sort of harm.
"Excellent news, my thanks," the Justicar said politely, "I would ask that each of you refrain from discussing your testimony amongst one another, and after we have each spoken, I will do my best to explain what we know so far – and Patrolman Segil was witness to part of the aftermath at the charity temple, and will also summarize what he knows."
They all gave polite thanks in reply, and when the Justicar took a seat, waving to an empty chair and prompting, "Whichever of you would prefer to go first," Etrius stepped forward with no hesitation. He wanted to get a feel for the man before letting him question Sable and Rodri.
Those two were ushered back into the hall by the Sunsguard and the Patrolman remained inside the office, shutting the door behind them. Five bodies made the room feel a little cramped, and the decision for the Sunsguard to remain was odd, in Etrius' mind, but it did mean that if there was a problem to deal with he'd potentially have a chance to warn at least one of them without tipping the Justicar off. He waited for the Justicar to give him a nod, pen at the ready, and then began.
Describing what he had seen in the temple itself took hardly any time at all, everything there had happened so quickly. Rodri had pulled him aside before they could get much further than the main entrance, and Etrius had promptly taken him to Sable, who had listened without any doubt and shown them to the storage room that was the entire problem. Then they had scrambled to get away and call for help, and they had been given their marching orders.
The Justicar asked about what they had seen and noted en route, so Etrius explained the rumors they'd started hearing on the way here. They had been halfway here before he'd truly noted anything; he had been in the middle of another round of his mental list of who could possibly have the means and motive for doing something like this when his line of thought had stuttered over a name and Rodri's head had snapped around to stare at a woman none of them had ever seen before – and then she was suddenly awash with golden sparks, sobbing in relief when whatever it was was over. They hadn't stopped to ask, but others nearby had and by the rumors he'd subsequently kept his ears pricked for and the name he could no longer say or even think…
Justicar Alfrid cast Father Seras a wry look when Etrius finished, commenting, "Scholar trained, yes? It shows. You are correct, Acolyte Etrius. The one once called Bertrand is certainly responsible for a lot of this, though the exact details of who assisted and under what circumstance remains open. It is my understanding he has been declared well and truly Nameless, to the point I cannot even write his name without some disclaimer phrase to preface it."
Etrius could feel his mental tally of questions practically explode with the implications of that – how had he been declared Nameless? Had the Hunting Rite been involved? Who had conducted the Rite, surely not the Eldest, he was needed for flame mitigation –
Those questions would have to wait. He stood, offered a slight bow as was proper for an acolyte to a ranked priest, then stepped through the door the Sunsguard Patrolman opened.
Sable immediately stood and swept past him, which he understood. Rodri was the youngest, and if he had needed to offer any warnings about this Justicar's attitude, Rodri was the one in the most need of the heads up. Since that was unneeded, the fact that this would give him some time to breathe and process before conferring with Sable was very welcome.
It had been the Oathbreaker to suggest he consider the priesthood. A path that would let him learn more, let him read more. He had known better than to feel indebted to the man even then, because having properly recorded debts was one thing, feeling indebted was entirely another, but he had given the man sincere thanks eventually. Had answered his questions as to how his studies were going. The Nameless had never outright asked him anything about the Firetarting Order or even any of their members, but he had mentioned being familiar with Holiness Valerik with the implication that familiarity was friendly…
Etrius was going to be obsessing over every word he'd ever exchanged with the man for moons. Had there been any hint? If he hadn't invited Rodri to accompany him this winter – if Rodri hadn't accepted, had decided that after yesterday's drama he didn't want to deal with a swarm of strangers –
Dropping down to the nearest bench and burying his face in his hands, he spared a moment to give a more thoughtful prayer of thanks that Sable had agreed to have Father Seras serve as her adult witness. It let Etrius feel safer, knowing as he did that Father Seras would be far more protective of her than anyone would guess, but it also meant Etrius could have these moments to look as distressed as he liked.
Father Seras would take any sign of Etrius' distress very personally indeed, after all, and while most days he appreciated how much his mentor cared about his well being, knowing how far Father Seras was willing to go in his defense made expressing distress something he had to be careful about. Right now, after recounting what the morning had been and finally realizing just how many ways things could have gone wrong, he was too upset to be careful.
"Etrius? Mind if I sit next to you?"
He didn't look up at Rodri's question, just nodding. Rodri evidently saw the gesture, obscured though it likely was, and by the sounds immediately turned from the window he'd been staring out of and came over, settling on the bench next to him and scooting close enough their sides pressed against each other.
"Are you going to be okay?" Rodri asked quietly.
"I'll be fine," Etrius managed, voice muffled, "I just – Rodri we almost died. So many people almost died. I didn't trust him but I didn't not trust him if that makes any sense."
"Course it does," Rodri agreed, "I didn't know Holiness Loshern enough to trust him, but I didn't not trust him, and apparently he wants all of us dead too. And now this… Oathbreaker? Sounds like he was a priest?"
"Now Nameless, yes," Etrius said, wincing at the reminder of Loshern's opinions. That had been a mess, and one he had needed to help deal with since Kavrick was less than able to support Maltin at the time. Oh he'd have managed, but it would have been unkind to make him, and Etrius rather doubted Father Kavrick even realized how attached his student had gotten to the exorcist in the few visits they had managed before it all went up in smoke.
"Huh. Wonder if they used the Hunting Rite or if it was just a denunciation like Honorable Anika," Rodri said thoughtfully, Etrius immediately feeling a surge of interest at that thought – he had forgotten about Honorable Anika's precedent for a lay-person declaring Namelessness, that opened up a whole host of possibilities.
"The golden sparks seemed to be involved," Etrius said, finally lifting his head from his hands and glancing Rodri's way, asking thoughtfully, "You looked at that woman before I saw any sparks. Did you feel something?"
"The song from my arrowhead changed, there was an echo," Rodri said, wrinkling his nose, "It was very strange sounding. Even when there are a lot of individual arrowheads around it doesn't sound like an echo, they're all distinct."
"Huh," Etrius said, wondering about that. Wondering about a lot of things, but sun-blessed steel and its connection to sacred fire and Vanya Flamesinger and so very much of their history and their future was at least fun and not him contemplating all the people who wanted the Firestarters dead and ashes for all sorts of reasons.
Dead people were easy to forget. It was unfair for people to consider Firestarters a symbol of the old regime and everything that was wrong with it because all things told they had been a relatively small part of what was wrong with it. A very dramatic part, a very horrifying part, something of a capstone even, but a small part. But that symbolism went both ways – if they were a symbol of what had gone wrong, then they were a reminder of what had gone wrong. Of what could go wrong again if people weren't careful and deliberate with the changes they were making.
How easy would it be, to let people forget how bad things had gotten before the reforms? If the Firestarters were gone, not reformed, then how could anyone ever think that the current regime was even remotely related to the old one, no matter how strange and twisted their path became? They had no Firestarters after all. They had no child-burners. They were so very different. So very much better.
Kill the Firestarters. Remove as many traces of them from history as you could manage. Let them be forgotten as anything but monsters, and within a few generations Karse would have White Demons to the north and Fire Demons from within, and so long as one was not either of them, one would be fine.
Such a broad definition of fine.
"Rodri, is there any restriction on how much Sun-blessed steel can be made in one go? Besides the literal physical limitations of how many arrowheads one can make at once, I mean. Is there some sort of cap from the blessing process?"
"I have no idea," Rodri admitted, "But I don't think so. Axeli's arrow molds hold twenty-eight at a time and we made one mold, and then a set of molded spearheads and Anika Brersi's spear the next day. But I think the ritual could be stretched for longer and make more than one mold – I've helped Axeli make arrowheads before he has five molds he can use in one round of smelting, it wouldn't take much longer than the ritual currently is. Why?"
"Something Tristan and I were thinking about," Etrius shrugged, expecting the startled look on Rodri's face at that name. Tristan and Colbern's terrible relationship was practically the first thing any Firestarter student learned about the Order, both because it was horribly obvious and because no one wanted to see an innocent mistake ignite a whole new nightmare. But that meant everyone was well aware of the fact that since Seras and Colbern were good friends, which left Etrius and Colbern somewhat associated and even friendly, Etrius and Tristan really didn't talk much, if at all. Few opportunities to, no real inclination to change that.
But he was going to be ordained in the next couple of years, and that meant the Third Order Trial, and that meant Ari's Tongue in addition to his control of fire. Tristan and Colbern were the best at Ari's Tongue in the Order and the only reason Colbern was so good was because Tristan had been his student, so Etrius had decided to go to the source for the extra practice he wanted. Finding something to talk about that was complex enough to be challenging and relevant enough to what Etrius usually talked about to be useful yet not something that would spark any true arguments had been difficult, but discussing how the crimes of the previous regime would be remembered and should be remembered had been one of the better ones.
"He has some excellent ideas about the staying power of memory," Etrius said, glancing at Rodri sidelong and admitting, "I think it's because of his experience in the catacombs. There are a lot of forgotten corners, and a lot of remembered ones. Seeing what the difference is – it gives him insight a lot of people don't have."
"I thought he hated the catacombs," Rodri said slowly.
"That would be because of his experiences in the catacombs," Etrius shook his head, "I don't know details, and I won't ask. But he does hate them, and he also knows them better than anyone I've ever spoken to. Anyway. Staying power of memory. Books and records can be burned, obviously. Hidden too, but then they can be lost or damaged with water or any one of a hundred things. Objects are harder. Metal is harder. It can be melted down, of course, and stonework can be broken, but it is more effort. It is not easy."
"So you were thinking some sort of monument? Or memorial? And somehow maybe sun-blessed steel could be involved?"
"It was a thought," Etrius shrugged, "I think Tristan is going to bring it up in the Conclave's future projects section. He had some more coherent ideas than I did. One of the questions we had though was whether or not sun-blessed steel could be destroyed or somehow reduced back to base steel."
Rodri went pale, hand covering his bracelet protectively and Etrius winced, because he probably could have worded that better or at the very least waited to raise that possibility at a time where Rodri wasn't likely clinging to that steel's song as a comfort.
"I don't know," Rodri admitted, "I never thought to ask."
"I should have asked later, it's nothing urgent," Etrius huffed a laugh, "It came up for a couple of reasons but – honestly I wanted to know what happened to the old steel. We clearly had it at some point. Others in the legends clearly had it, though perhaps not everyone who the steel is attributed to, or perhaps some were weapons and tools handed down through the ages, but who forged it first? When did it stop being made? How did they forget how to make it? Where are those legacy weapons now? One thought I had was that the legacy weapons became regular steel after a while, but I don't know if it's possible."
Rodri had pulled his legs up so he could wrap his arms around his knees, looking very thoughtful and a little frightened.
Before Etrius could ask what he was thinking about, though, the door opened and Sable and Seras stepped out, Father Seras looking bland and no help at all and Sable at least not looking much more distressed than she had when she walked in. He and Rodri both rose to their feet, but Rodri beat him to speaking, saying brightly, "My turn then?" and not even waiting for Father Seras to confirm it before heading for the door.
Usually Etrius would roll his eyes, but not today.
They both waited for the door to click shut behind Rodri and Father Seras before Sable switched tracks from walking to the bench to lunging for him and practically bowling him over in a hug he returned just as fiercely. Sable was his best friend, and the main reason she had even applied to stay on at the southern temple as staff when she was of age was so they would keep being able to see each other with his visits.
If he had decided that yesterday was too stressful, that doing research and triage on the golden fire issue was important enough to delay his visit by a day, Sable could have died.
"I can't believe it was him," Sable said, voice shaking, "Etrius it was – he always listened! When we had concerns he would listen and help us raise issues with Holiness Obric, and he would help the older kids find jobs oh Sunlord how many of them did he push into helping him? Did he leave feeling indebted and privileged when he was trapping them?"
"Too many," Etrius murmured, "Because I doubt that number is zero, and even one is too many. He's Oathbreaker and Nameless and Forsaken, Sable, he's finished."
"They don't know if he's been caught yet," Sable said shakily.
"We do," Etrius refuted, before wincing and allowing, "Unless the person people were talking about with those golden sparks is a different Oathbreaker, he's been caught, Sable."
"How would we know?" she demanded, "How could we be sure? That's just rumors!"
Etrius bit his lip before deciding it was worth asking, it could hardly hurt to ask, and they had both given their testimony already, so he closed his eyes and concentrated fiercely on the words of his question and the Firecat he wanted to speak to.
:Kari? Is the one once called Bertrand caught?:
:He is,: he heard Kari reply, sounding so very tired and so very relieved, :He is. And – ah, I should broadcast an update in general. Thank you for the reminder, Etrius. He is caught, and being questioned, and the trap only sprang partially and is now almost entirely dismantled.:
Heaving a relieved sigh, he felt Sable pull back a bit and he loosened his own hold, meeting her eyes and promising, "He's caught, Sable. Honored Kari just confirmed it. He's caught and the trap apparently sprang only somewhat and is just about dismantled now."
"They were able to partially suppress the explosion," Sable breathed, dropping her head against his shoulder with a murmured prayer of thanks, "They echoed Father Seras' no-deaths claim."
"Good," Etrius said, feeling another wash of relief at the reminder of Father Seras' assurances that there were no deaths from the trap, nothing terrible, in the way of injuries. With any luck at all, the Oathbreaker's latest scheme hadn't killed anyone, from set up to failed execution.
"And here I thought last winter was insane," Sable muttered, and Etrius snickered, which set Sable to giggling and they practically collapsed onto the bench behind them trying to catch their breath and not laugh too loudly.
"The worst I thought we'd run into is you spending the whole morning arguing over your gift," Etrius admitted, Sable promptly groaning and punching him in the arm.
"'Ri!" she scolded, "Ugh you are the worst at lest tell me it's practical this year!"
"My gifts are always practical!" Etrius protested, "You liked that scarf."
"You turned a silk stole into a purple scarf and added beads to it! Where on earth am I supposed to be able to wear something that fancy?"
"I was aiming for burgundy, but the beets turned red to purple…"
"That isn't better!"
"Hopefully this one is," Etrius grinned, finding the wrapped packet in his inner coat pocket and producing it with a flourish, handing it over with an exaggerated bow, "May this year's gift find your favor, Lady Sable."
"If you would just – my gift for you is in my room," Sable realized, looking horrified, "Oh no what if it's gone? I worked so hard on it!"
"Sable, you're alive," Etrius said, bumping their shoulders together, "I couldn't care less. I hope it isn't ruined, because that means your room is ruined and I remember how happy you were about having your own room, but don't worry about it."
"As if you were any better when your Incendiary decided students should live in the Hall too," Sable sniffed, shaking her head and setting the matter of her gift for him aside to focus on the handkerchief wrapped package in her hand.
"Hmm… not too heavy, but not flat enough for – Etrius, if this is actually valuable jewelry, I will shove you down the stairs," Sable hissed, evidently feeling the distinctive shape of a bracelet and starting to undo his overly elaborate folds and tucks.
"I'm not an idiot," Etrius rolled his eyes, "The things I snag for repurposing are being donated anyway, the stole from last year was badly frayed and had some stains before I hemmed and dyed it, the beads were not-quite the right shade of whatever color Holiness Lumira was after. Come on Sable, give me some credit."
"If I give you too much credit you'll hang yourself," Sable muttered, expression softening when she actually caught sight of the bracelet, "Did you make this?"
"I did," Etrius said, before shoving his sleeve back and showing off the similar bracelet on his own wrist, "Made myself one too. Made mine first to practice, you got the nicer one."
"As it should be," Sable agreed cheerfully, slipping the bracelet of knots and beads onto her wrist and figuring out the mechanism for sliding it tighter, "It's good work! And something I can actually wear day to day, this is much better."
"And might be mildly spelled for protection from coercion and from being found by those who wish you ill," Etrius coughed, already wincing when Sable punched the same spot on his arm again, "Ow!"
"Magic?!" Sable hissed, "Etrius you can't give me - !"
"I can," Etrius interrupted her, scowling, "Sable I checked. I can. There were never any official rules against giving people magical objects as cost-free gifts – oh fine, most called them blessed objects, but there were no rules against it! Only against using an offer of such things as leverage! Now there are definitely no rules against gifting, not for spells that aren't malicious. I just – I wanted to practice the spells. I wanted to give you something like this for years, this is just the first time I thought I could both manage the spells and anchor them to something that you'd wear. Fabron says Holiness Lumira found some spells that protect against the taint of blood magic and when I learn how to craft those or manage to earn a favor from someone who knows I'm getting you one of those too."
"Those lothga you told me about? The stories that are actually real?" Sable asked quietly.
"Blood mages attract them, I don't know if these anti-taint spells would help against them, but they couldn't hurt," Etrius sighed, feeling abruptly exhausted, "With any luck at all you'd never be in a position to be near blood magic taint, being in Sunhame, but I'd feel better if you had it."
"Only if you get yourself one first," Sable said quietly, tucking the embroidered kerchief away – the wrapping was always a secondary gift, after all – before grabbing his hand and continuing, "Be that something you learn and make for yourself or a favor you earn, you get yourself one first, and then the next one you get you can give to someone else. You can give to me, if you still want to. As long as you have one too, I'll accept it."
"Thank you, Sable," Etrius breathed, settling his head on top of hers when she leaned against his shoulder. Not as fun of a round of bantering as they could usually manage, but today wasn't a day for that. Today was a day to thank the Sunlord and Ari and all the Blessed Souls that things had aligned just enough for the innocents caught in the Oathbreaker's latest scheme to escape. He hoped every innocent caught in one of his other webs got free too.
And he hoped every person who helped the one once called Bertrand spin those webs choked on them.
=pagebreak=
It was a good thing his flask had only been half-full and watered down with lemon-water besides, Trevar had practically drained the thing. Marghi honestly didn't know why he bothered carrying it, he no longer drank even to the point of being buzzed. Compromising his judgment was too risky nowadays. The flask came in handy on days like this though, when he at least wanted to be able to pretend he had the option of raising a glass to an insane day that wasn't even half over.
Scrubbing at his face tiredly, he turned off Southern Ray into the first of a series of alleyways that would let him hopefully get to the back entrance of the Outer Eighth Sector Station without running into the crowds that were undoubtedly assembling in front of it. He had helped Trevar with the immediate aftermath of the Oathbreaker's capture, what with the collision and crowd dispersal, then split from the other Captain and gone further out in the city to find a food stall, Sunlord knew he'd end up staying late today and skipping a meal would only make that harder. Rumors had already spread that far by the time he reached the stall he'd had in mind, so between making his purchase and devouring it, Marghi had given a basic explanation and announced that anyone who had been influenced or coerced by said Oathbreaker should give their statement to a Sector Station.
He didn't doubt some people were already in Sector Stations for just that; Trevar had admitted after Bellamy's departure and a few swigs that he had heard the Voice declaring him free of enchantment from the Oathbreaker in his own mind. It was likely an experience shared by everyone who had been freed from spellcraft, and meant everyone so freed knew that the Oathbreaker was caught and that 'mortal justice remained', whatever that ended up meaning. With the numbers he would bet the man had coerced – directly, indirectly, hells there were undoubtedly willing conspirators too – they would be sorting this out for moons, if not years.
Painful to deal with, but something that needed to be done, and done well. A mission, thank the Sunlord, he always did better when there was a longer-term goal instead of the usual day to day slog of being Captain. A mission this intense? Honored Kari could take as long as he needed to recover after what was undoubtedly a ridiculous day, Caleb would manage.
He found himself eyeing the stone stairs leading down into a sunken garden a bit too contemplatively, nonetheless, and tore his gaze away, focusing ahead of him and slipping his hand into his pocket to grab the sun-blessed steel arrowhead he had been granted. He had no idea if it helped in any way besides giving him something new and different to properly focus on, but it was too dull to consider it an avenue to kill himself quickly and it wasn't making things worse, so he would take it.
Right. Focus on something else. Something more specific than the generic existence of this complicated set of cases. What did he need to ensure was being done when he got back? Gathering testimony from those who came to speak of the Oathbreaker's coercion, obviously. Hmm. Likely reserve a testimony collection pair for cases other than that, set up some sort of queue for the Oathbreaker's victims. Ah, first he had best speak to any of his Sunsguard who had been coerced via spellcraft, if any. But given the potential for Justicar interaction, he suspected any coercion on that front was in having a loved one trapped under spellcraft rather than themselves, which meant the men under that threat might not believe their loved ones were safe until they'd seen them personally.
Assuming, of course, that whatever leverage or coercion had been applied was solely from directly targeted spellcraft, which he doubted. Bully boys and the like could easily be used, and depending on the Oathbreaker's style he likely had subordinates more than willing to apply that sort of leverage.
Then he needed to make himself available so that anyone worried for friends or family members would have a chance to approach him, yet somehow arrange it so anyone observing wouldn't immediately know what was being discussed. That could get complicated, since he'd prefer to remain on the main level, both for availability to his staff as a whole and so he could confirm that the testimony gathering was going according to the strictest procedure – a legibly written record, either read by the witness or read to them by someone other than the one who had written the record, and if the witness agreed with what had been written, they would sign it. If they requested it, they were entitled to a similarly verified copy of their testimony, signed, sealed and dated. He had made sure to press home very firmly his first few moons here that those requests were always to be honored and, preferably, those copies offered rather than waiting for people to ask.
He had even given reprimands to guardsmen who made that offer with an insincere or exasperated tone, and on one notable occasion actual disciplinary action when the man in question didn't cease and desist, so odds were better his preferred practices were holding true. It was worth verifying, though. Hells, especially now, more people than usual were going to take them up on the offer for a case like this. He would need to requisition more paper, he wouldn't be surprised if they actually ran out before the next resupply –
"Captain!"
Had he not thanked the Sunlord sincerely enough for His aid this morning? Was that it?
He remembered a line his mother had quoted at them when he and his siblings complained – usually about something ridiculous, they had been children. You are given these burdens because your soul was crafted to bear them.
It hadn't made him feel any better about chores as a child, and it hadn't made him feel any better about Nacht's scarring of his own mind, and it certainly didn't make him feel any better about this utter fiasco of a day!
Two Firecats. Sun-blessed steel. Corrupt bastard got what was coming for him. I'm getting help at some point. What Nacht did to me was wrong, regardless of Talents not being witchy. Today has been good, even if it's been insane, he reminded himself, turning in the direction of the shout and wanting to curse when he didn't recognize the man at all. Man wasn't in uniform, so not an on-duty guardsman, and since Caleb didn't recognize him he wasn't a current member of the Outer Eighth guard. Not someone like Val either, hauled in frequently enough and with a memorable-enough personality to be pointed out to him.
Even just in walking here, hearing all the rumors of golden sparks and an echoing Voice – it painted a disturbing picture of how far the Oathbreaker's machinations had stretched. He knew in his bones that fleshing out the details would make it worse, and it left him wondering how many persons of interest he had been steered away from by men whose choices weren't entirely their own. Was this a face he should know? Was this one the former Captain had known? Perhaps even been a reason that Captain had retired and moved out of Sunhame with his entire family?
Or was this man someone he should know as a victim? As someone harmed by the Oathbreaker and his ilk, who his gaze had been carefully turned away from without his noticing?
"You have me at a disadvantage," he said, waiting for the man's brisk pace to get him within speaking distance and very deliberately not removing his hands from his pockets when the man still drew closer. He couldn't quite avoid shifting his stance, but that was less blatantly aggressive than settling a hand near his truncheon.
"Name's Nico, locksmith," the man said, finally stopping and rocking back on his heels only a short distance away. Not quite in arm's reach, but well within range of a lunge-led strike.
Legitimate locksmiths were closely monitored. Between the profession and the name, tracking down information on this man would be easy, so long as he was telling the truth.
"Caleb Marghi, Captain of the Outer Eighth Sector Station, though you apparently already knew that. How can I help you, Master Nico?"
"Name Darius Vars mean anything to you?"
The way the name was practically spat out, Caleb had a sinking feeling he should know the name. Had a feeling the only reason he didn't know the name was because people he had expected honesty from, had thought made it past the first round of discharges and investigations legitimately instead of with corruption to thank, had ensured he wouldn't hear it.
"I am afraid it does not," he said quietly.
The locksmith gave a sharp laugh that was anything but amused, and asked after a different name, "How about Garth Nolans?"
Now that name he did know, but he had only just heard it for the first time today when Honored Kari had startled a few years off his life by speaking to him out of nowhere and explaining the basic situation they had found Val stuck in the middle of. It had sounded like the man was one who had been ignored when he shouldn't have been, and he had left a note to himself to raid the Station records for anything including that name in the next day or so. Hadn't had the chance to do so, between his short meeting with Bron and his decision to track Trevar down to give the other Captain a warning, but he had planned to at least.
"Heard that name for the first time today," Marghi admitted, shifting his weight a bit and saying, "I take it those are names I should know?"
"They're names some people put a lot of work into making sure you didn't know," the locksmith said, confirming Caleb's own suspicions and fortunately elaborating without prompting, "Ex-Sunsguard, both of them. Vars was a Sergeant, Garth was his Corporal. Whole squad was discharged early spring, before official guidelines came down. Nolans filed for an appeal and it was denied, but that story was squashed quick, left a lot thinking he never bothered filing."
"Hmm. Illegal, that denial. I can ensure an appeal gets fast-tracked, but I suspect that's not what you flagged me down for."
"It's not, though I'd appreciate that," the man agreed, hesitating before shifting his own weight in preparation for flight. Keeping his feet planted rather than moving so he could more quickly pursue took conscious effort, but Marghi managed. This man had flagged him down and wanted his aid in something, despite evidently having a whole host of reasons to mistrust the Sunsguard. Best to not agitate this very hesitantly extended trust.
"Officers in the guard can arrest based on information, investigate afterwards. Don't need to personally witness a crime before an arrest, last I heard, is that still true?" the locksmith asked carefully.
"Depending on severity of supposedly witnessed crime, yes," Caleb confirmed, deciding to not yet mentioning the additional host of requirements on how long one could take on that follow up investigation before having to let the arrested person go, prompting after a long moment, "You have information that you think should lead to an arrest?"
"I've seen him beat men to death," Nico said, voice hollow, "Darius Vars, that is. I've seen him arrest men for crimes his allies committed, because they didn't give him what he wanted fast enough. Nolans… tried. Hells, he stopped arresting people for anything but serious assaults and murders, since Vars had to sign off on every penalty his men issued and always made it worse, just because he could. Worked out deals instead. Got my job as a locksmith that way. Wasn't registered to start, but Garth helped me get an apprenticeship."
"I'll need more details to properly start an investigation, but what you've stated is enough for me to issue orders for Vars' arrest and hold him for three days while we investigate before I have to let him go if nothing is found. I'll issue those orders the moment I get back to the Station," Marghi assured him, feeling a dull sort of fury at the story he was hearing, at the things he could hear between the now-registered locksmith's words. Nolans was likely with the Justicars already, and if they hadn't arranged to get him an appeal yet then by the One God, Caleb would do it himself and file a very strongly worded complaint against former Captain Pars while he was at it, because there was exactly one person who could possibly serve as gatekeeper for those appeals at the Station level.
"All due respect Captain, you didn't even know Vars' name before this. What sort of odds you want to lay on people actually pursuing that arrest?" the locksmith said, voice sharp enough that any 'due respect' was lip service, but Marghi couldn't blame the man. The thought had occurred to him as well, but he was one man, and he had little other practical choice. Aside from that, though the locksmith had no way of knowing, Caleb strongly suspected that orders to that effect were already en route from Fourth Court, if not already arrived.
But he didn't have any way to explain that, not without spending a lot of time claiming things he had no way to quickly prove true. Besides, Nico the locksmith had to have reported this information to him for a reason, and if that reason wasn't to simply get orders for Vars' arrest issued…
"Not particularly good odds," he allowed, tilting his head slightly, "So you want me to arrest him myself. You know where he is, then?"
"I know where he was not too long ago. Have some acquaintances keeping an eye on it, if he's left they'll know which way he went. Might have followed, if they thought they could stay unnoticed."
No hobbles, no back up. No one would even know where he was. This could very easily be a trap.
A sacred arrowhead was still clenched in his hand. Honored Kari could not come to his aid today, but he would be able to hear Caleb if he called, according to Holiness Dinesh. If this was a trap, he would at least be able to raise an alarm. He wouldn't be utterly silenced and forgotten.
This was his duty. It didn't matter what it cost him.
"Lead the way, Master Nico," he finally said.
The man looked far too wary for someone who had just received exactly what he had asked for, but Marghi raised an eyebrow at him and that got him moving. He made sure to keep himself close enough to Nico that the man could keep him in the corner of his gaze, and kept his hands in his pockets. It was all the reassurance he could really offer that wouldn't be brushed off as just being words.
The locksmith kept to side streets and alleys, only crossing more major thoroughfares when there was no choice, and didn't say a word unless it was to give a heads up he was about to turn across Marghi's path. He didn't bother asking any of the multitude of questions this entire interaction had spawned, both out of respect for Nico's clear desire for silence and out of sheer practicality. He had no idea where they were heading, and had no way of knowing how close they were. Best not to alert anyone of their approach by speaking, especially since the questions he had would make it very obvious that a Sunsguard officer was approaching.
It was only a few more blocks before a snippet of whistling caught his ear, and by the way Nico immediately swerved in that tune's direction it was a signal. At least it meant it wasn't the tune Enforcer Bellamy had warned him against humming along too – after that utterly bizarre warning he didn't plan to hum ever again, not so long as this piece of sun-blessed steel was in his possession. Nico tossed a coin to the man who'd evidently whistled that signal, sitting on the top of a ramshackle set of steps and slumped against the doorframe, scarf wrapped around the majority of his face and a knit cap pulled low.
"Still there," the man said, evidently one of the acquaintances Nico had left on watch, "No sign of Nolans yet?"
"Neither of them," Nico said, likely referring to both Garth and the sister who Caleb only knew existed from Honored Kari's summary of Val's situation, "Any new faces go in?"
"Course," the man spat to one side, "Poor bastard with the kid."
"Hells, that'll make it messy," Nico muttered, Caleb feeling his eyebrows creeping up his face and the number of questions he had going up along with them, "Thanks Renz, might want to get out of here."
"Don't need to tell me twice," the man muttered, climbing to his feet, only now glancing Caleb's way and looking torn for a long moment, before nodding his head and saying, "Good luck for this one, Captain."
Caleb nodded back and stepped aside to let the man pass freely, feeling amused despite the circumstances at the very specific thanks. He had a feeling this Renz was far more likely to end up wishing Sunsguard ill-fortune in their pursuits, but Darius Vars was apparently enough of a wretch for all sorts of people to want him gone. Was just a matter of making sure the people who needed to keep him around for whatever reason were dealt with.
How fortunate, that the Oathbreaker had been caught.
Nico led the way into the building Renz had been sitting in front of, and Caleb stepped where the locksmith did as best he could, following Nico to the wall that evidently split the building in half, and the one door that led through it. By the glistening, someone had recently oiled the hinges, and the door opened quietly – and with the door open, he could hear a murmur of voices. Not enough to make out words just yet, but enough to make out tone, and the tone was ugly.
" – known better than to trust Nolans, bastard's been trying to break things open for years," he heard through a half-open door, Nico pausing out of sight of that gap and Caleb settling in beside him to listen for a bit.
It was likely safe to assume the speaker's identity, but better safe than sorry, especially now. Tapping the locksmith on he shoulder, he made a gesture to indicate talking and mouthed the name, "Vars," with a query in his expression. The slow nod confirmed it, this voice was definitely the Darius Vars he apparently should have been hearing quite a bit about.
"Could have thought he'd given up," a voice he knew said. Senior Lieutenant Bron, you should be managing witness intakes right now, or preparing for the upcoming Shift Lead meeting. Ah hells, the man was de facto second in command and had been for well over two years, which meant Caleb was going to have to reopen nearly every case that had ever closed in that time span.
It could be worse, he reminded himself, grimacing nonetheless, you could not know. Better to clean it up than pretend it never happened. Cleaned wounds heal.
Vars' laugh was disturbingly bright, the sound didn't fit the man's evident character at all.
"Nolans? Give up? Man doesn't know the meaning of the word, why do you think I kept him around so long? Wouldn't break, didn't matter what I did," the man sounded nearly proud, and definitely admiring. The meaty thunk that followed didn't come with any accompanying sounds of pain, not even a hitch of breath. Whoever had been struck was unconscious or worse. Two conscious bodies, at the very least, and who knew which way Bron would fall. Coerced, or willing? And if coerced, by what means? Did he even know that the Oathbreaker's malicious spellcraft had been removed?
"Not like this one here," Vars scoffed, another thunk punctuating his words, "Didn't even last the first moon before he was bending over backwards to please. Useful I suppose, but the struggle's more fun."
Oh Caleb didn't like the sound of that hitch in Bron's breathing at all.
"So you're not letting Gari go," the man said.
"Now you're getting it," Vars practically crooned the words. How wonderful, his nightmares had been getting repetitive lately, some variety was just what he needed. Vars didn't stop, though at least he stopped crooning, voice switching to idle when anyone with sense would know it was anything but, "Larschen here brought me shit news, and now I can't even say my sponsor's name, which means all sorts of problems are coming my way. Why the hell would I let you buy little Garrick's freedom? No other reason for you to get me out of Sunhame, cuz."
A long silence, and Caleb was ready to put an end to this. No one else had said a word in that room, and he didn't hear anyone moving about in there that wasn't accounted for by Bron and Vars. Besides that, it sounded like Bron was being coerced, so with any luck he wouldn't actively defend Vars if it came down to it.
Exhaling slowly, not quite willing to pray that this would go well more for fear that there would be an answer than that there wouldn't be, he finally let go of the blessed arrowhead he'd clung to this whole time. Unhooking his truncheon from his belt, he tapped Nico on the shoulder again and gestured for the man to step aside and let him pass.
"Not even going to beg, are you," Vars said, sounding wistful, of all things, "Not even for old time's sake?"
"What's the point?" Bron bit out, Caleb finally catching a glimpse of the inside of the room, though all he could see was bloodstained floorboards. Fairly fresh pool, and large enough the Larschen that Vars had been kicking was definitely dead, "You want people to beg, you let begging work once and a while, you bastar – "
"Hey now!" Vars snarled, wood scraping and Caleb slammed the door open, crying, "Darius Vars! You are under arrest!"
Procedurally, he should pause now and give the man at least three breaths to surrender. Practically, the man was already in the middle of lunging for Bron, would definitely not stop, and was most definitely a nightmare of the first order.
Eh. Maybe second. Nacht had set a high bar.
Bron dodged, spinning out of the way but Vars was too quick on his own feet for Caleb to take advantage of his momentary overbalancing. Widening his stance as he settled in to block the door, Caleb kept his focus on Vars. No resemblance between the two apparent cousins, and despite what he almost hoped, there was none of Nacht's madness in the man's eyes. No, this man knew exactly what he was about, and relished in every second of it.
"Captain Marghi, isn't it?" Vars sneered, shifting his weight back and forth as though he was going to lunge but never quite committing to it. Waiting for him to flinch away, for Caleb to leave a gap the man could shove through. If he'd had back up, that'd have been perfect. Could have had them waiting just outside to pin Vars down.
He had a locksmith, who he didn't even know for sure had stayed to see this through. Wouldn't blame the man if he hadn't. He had a Shift Lead who was evidently long compromised and resigned to being under this bastard's thumb.
He couldn't even trust his own mind most days, and he was still here. There was still a chance.
"Bandit hunter turned city guard, now there's a shift," the man laughed, the sound no longer the bright thing that made Marghi's skin crawl at the dissonance, this was more of a malicious snicker. It was oddly calming. At least it matched the words.
"What drove you in? Not enough girls in those farm towns you guarded? Not what I heard," the man said, sounding smug, "I heard you got yourself attacked by a witch. Nearly got you to slit your own throat, didn't he? Little fucker. Can't even be compensated now, can you, witches aren't witches. How's that feel, Captain? Knowing the witch that almost killed you wasn't even evil?"
"He was never evil," Caleb said, keeping his tone cool and deliberately not letting himself look away, even if it meant Bron's horrified expression was in his line of sight, "What he did to me was wrong, but he was mad. Not evil. Not malicious."
"How inspiring," Vars spat, tone growing uglier. Caleb wasn't doing what he wanted, after all, "Truly merciful, Captain, so kind of you."
"Oh I didn't truly believe that till this morning," Caleb smirked, stalling in hopes there'd be some opening, that Bron might choose the right side, "Poor timing, Vars. Would have made me flinch, yesterday. Poor timing all around, wasn't it? Oathbreaking sponsor of yours had his plan fall apart, your own sadism stabs you in the foot, all from what? Do you even know where things went wrong for you?"
Vars was snarling, a hair-raising sound, but Marghi had caught his interest. Man wasn't shifting anymore, and even better had frozen where he wouldn't be able to see Bron if the man moved carefully. Couldn't glance his Shift Lead's way, that would ruin any chance of an ambush from that quarter, and he had no way of knowing if Bron was even capable of taking that chance, resigned as he likely was.
Habits carved furrows in one's mind all on their own, no Talent required. Just took longer. And as long as he suspected Vars had been threatening Bron's son? His Shift Lead was in the habit of obedience to this man, forget Bron's perfectly understandable terror that Vars would be able to enact some form of vengeance on him if he dared try.
"You took Val, and Val, as it turns out, has quite the family," Caleb finally said.
"Always wanted to pay that bitch a visit, but my sponsor wanted her for himself. Thanks for the tip, Captain, I'll make sure to track her down on my way out," Vars sneered, and Caleb knew the man wanted him to flinch, to be horrified, and in any other circumstance he would try to distract the man, to point out that he hadn't been referring to Jana, not really. He had been referring to Val's so-called younger brother, but to be perfectly honest the idea of this man trying to track down Holiness Jaina, Firestarter…
"I doubt that will work out well for you," he replied dryly.
Floorboard creaked damn Bron had almost had a shot –
Vars staggered under the swing, slamming an elbow into his cousin's chest, Caleb lunging forward and ducking a blow and stomping a knee into collapsing but not able to completely dodge the open-handed strike to his face, nails catching on his cheek and blood running down but it gave him the angle to twist Vars' arm up around his back and Bron took the shot that opened up and Vars slumped, eyes rolled up in the back of his head and one hell of a lump in the midst of forming.
Caleb didn't let go of him, just his luck the man would be one to shake off a head blow quicker than the usual, and instead finally got a good look at his daytime Shift Lead.
The man looked torn between relief and horror, stumbling back till he hit the wall and sliding down it, truncheon in a white knuckled grip.
"What sort of hold did he have over your son?" Caleb demanded.
"Curse," Bron said, voice choked, "Whenever he wanted he could – he could make him sick."
One of the few things he knew about the man's family was that he had a sickly little boy. That curse had been used far too often, if the number of illnesses he'd heard was even close to accurate. But something like that was definitely magic, and with any luck at all…
"You know who cast the spell? Was it his sponsor that can't be named anymore?"
"Don't know. Think so," Bron said, bowing his head, "Fuck I don't even know how he sets the curse off. He could – he could still – "
"You see those golden sparks?" the locksmith demanded, finally appearing in the doorway and flinching when he caught sight of the corpse in one corner, "Ah, hells."
"He was dying when I got here," Bron said, voice dull, "Only thing missing was the snapped neck. Vars was – was waiting. For an audience. To do that part. Doesn't think it's fun to kill if no one else is there to watch."
"Golden sparks he's talking about were the miraculous removal of all the Oathbreaker's malicious spellwork. Happened all over Sunhame, why I asked if you knew who had cursed your son," Caleb explained, redirecting to a less horrifying topic and watching his Shift Lead struggle to keep his breathing even. At least Caleb's issues were confined to his own mind, his own skin. Traumatizing for whoever watched when he finally broke, but he had worked damn hard at making sure his judgment was only truly compromised when it was his life alone on the line –
He should have asked Nico if there was any aid from the Sunsguard the locksmith would accept. There had to be others Caleb could have reached out to. New transfers, unlikely to have fallen under Vars' sway just yet. He could have asked for Honored Kari to ask the Justicar at Fourth Court to send reinforcements, he could have demanded that Nico spell out just what was waiting for him and whether or not the locksmith planned to help detain Vars or not. He had gone along with a plan to pull a solo arrest on a man known for beating people to death and his only mitigation had been a half-thought plan to send a final message to Honored Kari if it looked like he'd lose.
Fuck. Only direct risk to his skin, fine, but if he'd died Vars could have gotten away, and even this one encounter told him enough to know that was unacceptable. This wasn't sustainable. He couldn't keep doing this. But he also couldn't afford to have a panicked breakdown now, so he focused on the immediate problem.
"Need your hobbles, Bron," he added, the man jolting and shaking his head, muttering apologies and unhooking his hobbles from his belt, tossing them over. Took a few moments past that even, but the request finally seemed to register and he blinked, some of his daze fading as he asked, "You don't have any hobbles, sir?"
"Only carry one set," Caleb grunted, choosing to bind the man's arms in the same slightly frowned-upon way Bellamy had done the Oathbreaker's. Vars had a head wound, moving him was non-ideal, but Caleb wasn't staying here, he doubted Nico was any more inclined to go to the Sector Station than before especially solo, and he sure as hell wasn't letting Bron out of his sight right now.
"Handed it over to get used on the Oathbreaker," he continued, checking the bindings and pleased enough with them, slowly easing Vars' body down so he could properly frisk it for weapons. Some nasty knuckle guards in a pocket, knobbed nearly to spikes and still tacky with blood, two knives of middling quality, one knife against his lower back of exceptional quality and the glistening of the light on the rippled metal was lovely, dying by this blade would be an acceptable way to –
"Captain!"
Inhaling desperately, he flung the far-too-close blade away from him and slammed his fist against the wooden floor, "Damn it!"
The room practically echoed with their breathing.
Finally Nico's footsteps broke it, the man using his foot to drag the other two blades and the knuckleguards further away from him. Marghi didn't quite dare look at either of them, reaching for his arrowhead and struggling to even out his own breathing.
"So the making nooses out of hobbles isn't intended as threatening," Bron said.
"Not to anyone but myself, at least," Caleb replied bitterly, shaking his head and forcing that aside. He would be getting help. Help actually existed. He did not have time for this. "My apologies, for leaving you with the impression I was trying to threaten you."
"I thought it was too mild to be an intentional threat," Bron admitted, slowly climbing to his feet and very deliberately resecuring his truncheon before he did so, "My money was on it being some morbid habit to pass the time you didn't even think about anymore. Not everyone interpreted it as a threat, sir."
"Some did, and that's too many," he retorted, glancing Nico's way before saying, "Senior Lieutenant, bag up the weapons. Master Nico, will you be accompanying us to Outer Eighth or would you prefer your testimony be gathered without your immediately visible association to this arrest?"
The locksmith took a few steps back from the knives and knuckleguards he'd kicked aside so Bron could gather them without getting within grabbing distance. Mistrust of Bron or an effort to reassure Bron, Caleb couldn't quite tell. A mix was more than possible. Judging by the long silence and thoughtful expression in response to his question, there was more going into this decision than the man's understandable mistrust of the Sunsguard of Outer Eighth.
Rebuilding trust was going to be a years-long endeavor. Possibly even his life's work, and that was without assuming one of the lingering furrows from Nacht's assault finally kept him hemmed in past all saving. It was important though, and with any luck it would start here.
"You say you saw the Oathbreaker get caught, Captain?"
"I did. Had gone to speak to Captain Nachten about the issues at the southern charity temple. Oathbreaker passed by, caught our attention as someone to talk to, threw a Levin bolt at us," he shook his head at that memory, because as many times as he'd come to his senses with a noose in his hand or at the top of a steep set of stairs with no memory of climbing them, that was still the closest brush with death he'd had in years, "Dodged the first one, second bolt got taken down by the Voice. Honored Hansa took the man down, Voice declared him Oathbreaker, Nameless and Forsaken. When Bellamy came back to himself he needed hobbles to secure the man for hauling back to the Justicar. Golden sparks were part of some secondary Voice manifestation, I think. Captain Nachten had already had some sort of spellwork placed on him in the few seconds the Oathbreaker registered our existence, so saw that first hand too."
"Well. You had. A morning," the locksmith managed, voice distinctly strangled and Bron's stunned expression not much better.
He had to snort, because they didn't know the half of it.
"Senior Lieutenant Bron, help me haul him out. We'll leave markers on the doors, come back for the body. Master Nico, you coming with us publicly or not?"
"I'll come in with you," the man decided, watching as Bron came back to join Caleb in hooking an arm under Vars' armpit to haul him up, bracing their forearms against the man's shoulders. There'd be some dragging, but carrying him over a shoulder was a bad plan with the lump on his skull and likely patches of ice on the roads, and he suspected there were plenty of questions this man should be answering before he was allowed to die. Fortunately Vars' coat was thick wool, gave them something to grip without worrying too much about it ripping free.
"Then if you'll kindly get the door," Caleb said, heading that way himself and relieved when Bron followed, Vars' head lolling and feet dragging on the ground behind them, "Do either of you have specific names you would advise I keep away from this one when we get to the Sector Station? Or am I going to have to keep him locked up under my personal supervision until a transfer to Fourth Court can be arranged?"
"Couple names," Bron admitted wearily, "Might be best to just take him straight to Fourth Court, especially if that Oathbreaker is there like you say."
Caleb gave a non-commital hum, thinking that suggestion over as he pulled a pair of official Sunsguard tokens out of his stash and hung one on the door of the room. He kept another one out and hung it on the front door of the building they were in – a different door than the one Renz had been guarding, but that was why he put one on the room too. Signaled to everyone that Sunsguard would be back to examine a scene, with some heavy penalties on anyone caught interfering with the scene or in possession of those tokens without proper authorization. Wasn't perfect, but it was something – honestly, he was impressed with how well it seemed to work.
The Fourth Court suggestion was a good one, honestly, but the Senior Lieutenant had a pallor to his skin even now and while Marghi wouldn't say it specifically, he wanted the man sitting down and with someone sent to check on his family as soon as possible. The longer the man had to worry about his son being cursed in some last gasp of vengeance the worse his state would likely get. Aside from that, Caleb knew Fourth Court had likely already sent out the promised orders regarding collecting testimony against the Oathbreaker. Standard policy was for Court runners to announce those orders immediately, but remain at the Sector Station until they personally handed the written orders to the ranking officer on shift. Right now, that meant him, and he didn't doubt that policy and procedure was being followed very carefully on this investigation.
Well, barring the apparent multiple divine interventions, but somewhere in the books he was sure there was official policy for incorporating divine intervention into a legal case. Long out of use and possibly even entirely lost, but he had no doubt at all that something to that effect had been on the books at some point.
"I was told to expect orders from Fourth Court with guidelines for collecting testimony involving the Oathbreaker. They're likely already there, and are undoubtedly waiting for me to accept the orders formally. That runner will be an external witness to prevent any mishandling of custody, but I'm not hauling this one all the way to Fourth Court right now," Marghi decided, outlining at least some of the reasons he was refusing Bron's suggestion.
"Also, if people are showing up at the station to testify regarding the Oathbreaker's broken spellcraft, they could very well know Vars as his subordinate. Seeing him hauled in might get more detailed statements out of them," he added, continuing down the street that would lead them to the Sector Station. The main entrance, this time. If he was going to use Vars' once-victims seeing him caught as reason to not go all the way to Fourth Court right now, he had to make sure they actually saw Vars.
"Oh I think that'll prompt plenty of details, Captain," Nico said, voice darkly satisfied. Hopefully at some point Caleb would get answers as to how this man had become involved, though he suspected there was some sort of perceived debt to Nolans as a motivator.
"Right, need to make sure Garth Nolans actually receives his appeal," he muttered, wincing as he followed that thought through, "And make sure everyone else entitled to an appeal actually received one if they wanted, damn it."
"Nolans was the only one who filed for an appeal and was denied. Don't know if the others already knew it would be useless or if they didn't want it," Bron said quietly, breath shaky and voice even softer as he admitted, "Captain Pars had grandchildren. Same curse as my boy on at least one of them. Finally got released when he retired. Last favor was denying appeals for anyone who'd worked with Vars."
"I guessed there was something like that," Marghi grimaced, shaking his head and shifting his grip a bit – there really was no good way to carry a person as complete dead-weight, not unless they were literally dead weight and you didn't care too much about their condition, "Explains why he retired and took his entire family out of the city."
"Didn't want to risk getting caught in that trap again," Bron agreed, voice cracking a bit as he continued, "Seemed proof I could actually. Get Gari freed. Somehow. Said if I made sure Val and Garth got the brunt of suspicion in whatever was supposed to happen today, they'd let my boy go too. Went out to… to make sure rumors were spreading like he said they would be, when I heard about golden sparks and… and decided to see if that was worth anything instead."
"I wondered what the hell those rumors about Val and Garth going to the underlevels were about," Nico muttered, which was concerning in and of itself. Rumors had already been spreading, yet somehow when Jana came in to ask after where her brother was, no one in the station had heard of them? Unlikely. Something else to look into, then.
He still didn't quite understand what the goals of this plot were, even with his extra bit of insight from Honored Kari's initial call to him, explaining the Garth Nolans found Val situation. Whatever it was, it sounded hellishly nested. Something against Firestarters, at the topmost level, but did Vars even know that Val was a Firestarter? It hadn't sounded like it, with his comments about Jana. Higher level plot, Val being a scapegoat made sense, but why the hell was Nolans supposed to get credited with this too? Just to fuck with him, because apparently Vars was the sort of person to find that entertaining? Or had this been at the Oathbreaker's behest to get Nolans eliminated instead of constantly a threat to their plans? Managing a man trying to ruin you without flat out killing him sounded complicated, especially keeping in mind that for the sorts of people Vars and the Oathbreaker evidently were, killing would be far from the last resort.
This investigation was definitely going to be a city spanning mess. He was not looking forward to getting final numbers of how many dishonorable discharges and demotions and on-duty probations his Sector Station was going to be facing. Staffing was going to be a problem, damn everything to the coldest of hells, but especially Darius Vars and his Oathbreaking sponsor.
=pagebreak=
They had been in the middle of this same spice cake debate when Kari's voice had interrupted and reminded Jaina that Maude was still at risk, because Vars was loose and apparently had been tasked with eliminating her as part of the Oathbreaker's scheme. By the way Maude had reacted, she had expected as much, and said nothing. Jaina was unsure if it was because Maude had a plan involving using herself as bait or if Maude had simply not thought they would listen to her if she raised concerns about her own safety, but both options were honestly awful to contemplate so she had insisted on staying with Maude herself.
If Vars wasn't caught by the time she had to leave, the Nolans siblings would simply become the first in living memory to claim sanctuary in the full 'take shelter in our Hall' sense. First in well over six centuries, actually. If it hadn't been for the rewrite of the Charter dragging a lot of archaic practices and customs to the forefront, Jaina would honestly have forgotten that the practice was still a legitimate one.
"Maude, I will gladly buy an extra spice cake, I was already planning to ask if you had any extras when I picked up my order, you don't need to give me one!" Jaina protested, for at least the fifth time.
Maude actually scoffed, which was an improvement over the awkward hesitation of her first retort to Jaina's objections, shaking her head and saying, "I have plenty of extras. I always bake extras for impulse purchases, and some of my standing orders canceled at the last minute. I had the ingredients on hand already, and as spice cake is a seasonal demand, I used all of it."
"Bellamy would disagree," Jaina said dryly, unable to resist, "He's the whole reason I upped my holiday order a few moons ago, the man's apparently obsessed with spice cake."
"Then you'll have to take two extras," Maude said briskly, and Jaina literally bit her tongue this time. The only objections she truly had to this offer of Maude's, this decision of Maude's, was the fact that helping was her duty. She had not done it for reward, she would have done it for anyone, and the fact that she had considered Maude a friendly acquaintance for over ten years and never once suspected something was wrong, that the baker was being coerced and blackmailed and pinned in a corner…
If she had just once looked with mage-sight. Just once done her usual-as-Jaina glances to make sure no unexpected spellwork cropped up that people might need help getting free of, Maude could have been freed years ago. They could have eliminated the Oathbreaker years ago. Not as thoroughly as they would likely manage now, with the full force of the regime behind them and no need or even desire to shelter those who had willingly conspired with him, but it could have been done. She could have helped.
"Maude! Maude Nolans!" she heard, quickly turning with Maude and just as quickly readying a clever little cantrip Colbern had once taught her, which made the target stumble. It'd be enough for her to call for Honored Hansa, perhaps get Maude clear, and resign herself to saying to hell with Jana and let slightly more obvious combat magic fly.
"Bretta!" Maude greeted, sounding more than a little stunned but not hostile, and stopping at the sight of the woman, letting her catch up. A boy, perhaps nine, was walking in the woman's wake, hand tightly clasped with hers and looking more than a little stunned. Jaina quickly slipped into mage-sight and managed not to frown, though it was difficult. No spellcraft on either of them currently, but the boy's internal networks were far too active – not as if he were a mage himself, or rather, not as if he held the potential to be one, but as if…
As if he had been weighed down for a long while, and was finally free.
Letting her vision fade back into the more normal way of viewing the world, she glanced at Maude and quirked an eyebrow, hoping for an introduction.
"Jana, this is Bretta," Maude introduced, greeting Bretta with a handclasp and looking unsurprised when the woman pulled her son tight to her side as soon as they all stopped, stepping closer to the edge of the road in an effort to avoid blocking the thoroughfare, "And not-so-little Garrick. Is it still Gari? I remember last I saw you, that name wasn't your favorite."
The boy was staring up at Jaina with uncomfortably wide eyes, and she could only hope that he didn't by some unimaginable coincidence share Colbern's condition of constantly active somewhat-mage-sight. He would certainly be able to tell something was different about her if that were the case.
"Val's sister Jana?" Bretta asked before her son could say anything.
"Exactly like," she said, amused despite herself. Valerik had been doing this for decades, and the whole pirate press-gang story that had introduced her as his sister was one far too outlandish not to be spread far and wide by those who knew it, but it always struck her as bizarre just how far his name as Val reached. Given, she didn't associate with many lay-people as Jana outside of those she met en route to bailing Valerik out which undoubtedly influenced her perception, but still. She would swear she had never met this woman in her life, and would put good money on Val not being able to pick this Bretta's face out of a crowd, yet here she was, immediately recognizing her as Jana, Val's younger and more sensible sister.
"This is news for the both of you then," Bretta said, expression going tight, "Your brother, Maude? Do you know where he is?"
"Yes," Maude said shortly, voice utterly void of the friendliness that she had opened with. Before Jana could try and ask for clarification or simply offer some comment to hopefully break the growing tension, young Garrick or Gari spoke up, still staring at her.
"Uncle hated you," he whispered, before burrowing his face into his mother's coat, the woman wincing with a shudder.
"I… was unaware I talked to anyone in this Sector often enough to make them hate me," Jaina admitted, feeling more than a little bemused, "At least without knowing them and their families on sight, but I could swear we have never met?"
"My husband's cousin," Bretta said, voice cracking, "He… would visit often. Talk about… work. Do you – know where your brother is, Mistress Jana?"
"I do," Jana confirmed, "We are actually en route to the Sector Station to let them know he's been found. Well, I am at least. Maude has testimony to offer."
"He had nothing to do with it," Bretta blurted, one free hand wringing in her skirt, "I – I will testify to whoever I need to he had nothing to do with – with whatever he might be accused of from last night, he was – "
Jaina interrupted her, easily seeing that she was near tears and hoping to reassure her at least somewhat, "I know what you are talking about. Well. Not in full detail. But my brother was supposed to be framed for a disaster, and he was found before it could happen. By Garth, actually. They have both already testified as much, and are being listened to. The man who orchestrated the scheme has been declared Oathbreaker – "
"Nameless, and Forsaken," the boy finished, staring up at her again, "Judgment has been rendered, but mortal justice remains."
That – was the exact same wording Maude had used, and by the stunned horror on Maude's face, she recognized the phrasing too. Jaina ignored the quiet communication going on between Maude and Bretta, filled with tearful expressions and hushed one-word questions and answers that she didn't have enough context to properly understand, focusing instead on this boy. This child.
The only thing that had let her sleep at night these past years was the bone-deep surety that the wretches she burned had already tortured and tormented the souls of the innocents whose bodies they had stolen. They only looked innocent, sounded innocent, screamed in rage, not in terror. When that surety had been wrenched from her, when Kir had answered her question with no prevarication, no hesitation at all –
She had never wanted to be struck dead more than in that moment.
Gathering her skirt in one hand, she crouched down to be at eye-level with Gari, saying quietly, "The spells that were once on you are gone, you know."
"I know," he said, breath hitching, "And I'm glad. But what about my uncle? Will he be judged too?"
"If he is caught, yes," Maude assured him, finally speaking full sentences again, and when Jaina looked up she was a little surprised to find Maude with an arm wrapped around Bretta's shoulders, the woman hiding her face against Maude's coat and shaking, "A warrant has already been issued for his arrest. It's part of the reason I want to testify at Outer Eighth instead of just at Fourth Court, I want to see how they're responding."
And Jaina hadn't been willing to leave Maude alone after Kari's alert, so they had reorganized their walk to run Jaina's errand first. It had only been after they'd started this way that it had occurred to them that Maude testifying to her brother's former coworkers that she had been held under the Oathbreaker's spellcraft could be invaluable in rehabilitating his reputation, or at least making it less likely any useful information he tried to pass along to them would be ignored, as his former attempts to gain help apparently had been.
"We're heading there too," Bretta said, pulling back from Maude's hold and fishing a handkerchief out of her pocket, wiping her eyes, "I need to find Bron and tell him Gari's free. He – he might know where Vars is, but if he doesn't know Gari's free… he can't get away, Maude, he can't."
Maude hushed her when the woman started shaking again, but didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. Neither of them could offer Bretta assurances, only hopes. With any luck they could get this woman to claim sanctuary too, at the very least for her son's sake, but someone like Vars… he would hurt plenty of others on his way out, and wherever he ended up was in for suffering as well. She hated it.
You had best be damn certain in the claim you are making, certain enough to stake your own life and soul on it.
She had not had the privilege of witnessing the Hunting Rite. She did not know the process that needed to be done, but if she asked, Bellamy would tell her, even if she had to miss tomorrow's summary session with the Justicars and archivists. He likely wouldn't hesitate even if he knew she was asking for more than academic reasons, not with someone like Vars as her target. Getting ahold of three things which were his might be more difficult, but it sounded like he taunted these people regularly, and Bretta's husband might know some of his haunts. She'd be able to find three things, especially with a day to arrange it.
Convince these three to claim sanctuary for one night. If he wasn't caught by tomorrow afternoon, she would go Hunting. Darius Vars would face mortal justice, and be ushered off to face true Judgment as soon as possible, may the schemers behind this plot quickly find themselves in the coldest of hells.
"Sanctuary – I haven't heard one of those stories in a long time. Wonder if it's still on the books after this Conclave they've mentioned."
"Silas Torchkeeper, isn't it?"
"One of the better known ones, yes."
"Ivan and I could be persuaded to request that details of that story next, you know!"