The bells for Sixth Day had long run by the time the Lieutenant-Enforcer opened the door for Justicar Jeryl, the First Order Black Robe mid-question as he stepped into the hall, "– catatonic state has certainly faded from the first stage, but didn't seem to change at all during our questioning. Do you have any idea how long it might take to fade, Lieutenant-Enforcer Bellamy? Or is this lesser catatonia permanent?"
The Lieutenant-Enforcer looked thoughtful, but didn't immediately deny knowing such a thing, which – it was so strange, to see a soldier answering questions about esoteric practices and magical rites and classifications of Talents as if such things were normal to know about, as if that sort of knowledge wasn't dangerous to have, even now. Certainly, Garth could himself theorize about some limitations of magic, and even knew how to trick some common spellcraft or edge around a compulsion or two, but that wasn't knowledge he would ever answer questions about. Wasn't knowledge he would admit to.
He might have to, now. If it came up.
He should.
The two acolytes who had been in the hall with him had long been sent off on errands and then dismissed, which had left him in the somewhat uncomfortable position of sitting across the hall from two fully armed Patrolmen he at least recognized as familiar faces. Couldn't recall their names, besides Henkel, but he'd been spoken to directly and by name earlier today. Garth wondered if either of them had recognized him – and if they had, in what context.
Rising to his feet, he gave the Justicar a respectful nod, the man acknowledging his presence with a faint smile before focusing on the Enforcer, who had finally decided on an answer.
"Probably not," the Enforcer said carefully, glancing Garth's way with a nod of his own before focusing back on the Justicar and elaborating, "A day or two, I would guess, before it fades entirely – or at least fades as much as it ever will."
"Which is going to make questioning so much more enjoyable," the Justicar muttered, brushing past as he headed back towards the stairs, orders regarding the Oathbreaker's securement apparently already given. That likely wasn't something they were meant to overhear, but Garth did, and by the Enforcer's wince, he wasn't the only one. He trailed the Enforcer and Firecat back up the stairs to the ready room, which had been rearranged a bit. A few desks had been shoved together to form one larger table for that young Third Order Justicar set to compiling reports – one of the acolytes that had been running errands for Justicar Jeryl had been pulled into that team.
Holiness Jeryl weaved through the desks to them and requested shortly, "Summary, if you would."
"About half the Sector Stations have definitely received orders, Your Holiness, with confirmed receipt by the ranking officer on shift. Of the ones with more comprehensive orders, only Outer Eighth's messenger has yet to return, though Outer Seventh's Captain made mention that their Captain had been meeting with him until a short time ago and might be delayed reaching his Sector, we're giving it till Seventh Day before sending a follow up messenger," the priest rattled off, exchanging glances and short gestures with the acolytes working with him to confirm he'd said everything of import. When one pointed to a particular stack of papers, the priest added, "And of the three here for follow up questioning, the two staff members have given additional details and been allowed to depart. Justicar Miles apparently found enough in his questioning of the priest to justify an arrest and further investigation, in addition to his name being given by the Oathbreaker."
Garth managed not to flinch when Justicar Jeryl clicked his tongue against his teeth, but it was a near thing. The Oathbreaker used that cue to tell everyone he was mildly displeased – or at least that he wanted them to think and act as if he were mildly displeased, regardless of his other cues. The Enforcer noticed something regardless, glancing his way and not visibly concerned, at least, but definitely paying attention.
Surviving Vars had taken a very careful awareness of just how much attention was on him at any given time – and how much attention it was survivable to gather at any given time. That awareness was completely unable to cope with this occasion, the sheer scale of what he was involved in blew any of his previous estimates on attention grabbing quotas out of the water, but intellectually knowing that fact didn't do anything to keep his skin from crawling at the number of gazes he could feel pricking at his back.
"Where to next, Your Holiness?" the Enforcer said, interrupting the Justicar's quiet mulling over of the situation, and Garth couldn't pretend that it wasn't at least partially due to the Enforcer noticing Garth's discomfort. How the man noticed was one question, and why the man even cared was another.
"Ah. My office, I think. More orders to write out – and Mattis should be working on his list, I need to cross-reference that… Anton, send a follow up messenger to Outer Eighth immediately, that's the sector I'm most worried about – if the orders have been given and they're simply waiting for the Captain, very well, but if something has gone wrong en route I would hate for us to be caught flat footed," he ordered the younger priest, the man offering a bow and scanning the room for an appropriate messenger. Garth couldn't see who he sent, but could hear one of the soldiers getting called to the task, not that he recognized the name – instead Garth was following Bellamy and the Justicar up the stairs again, the Firecat trailing him this time.
Justicar Mattis was evidently done crafting a list and was drafting orders and requesting records, judging by the cluster of acolytes patiently waiting by his office door and getting sent off in bursts. He looked up on spotting them through the doorway, but Justicar Jeryl called over, "Let me make a copy of names and I'll come by to prioritize," before he could say anything, Holiness Jeryl not so much as slowing down in his walk to his own office, flicking through unlocking spells and an actual key for his deadbolt before opening the door and heading for his desk, waving them both to seats again.
Garth had never been in Fourth Court for long before today. He'd run brief errands here, had to testify in the few cases that drew higher eyes and Vars or the Oathbreaker hadn't managed to shove through without any form of additional investigation, but he'd never had cause to venture beyond the small rooms reserved for presenting cases. Now he'd ventured practically everywhere but the witness rooms on the second floor, and he suspected that before this was over he and Maude would become quite familiar with those too.
But the Oathbreaker was caught. Was actually caught and incapable of even trying to dodge questions. It was – it was one of the best possible outcomes. It was an outcome he had never even imagined. He couldn't quite believe he was actually awake, though that was likely heavily influenced by the fact he hadn't properly slept since yesterday morning.
The Justicar had only just set his pen aside from copying names when Honored Hansa's ears pricked and his head tilted to one side, glancing away from them before focusing on the Enforcer and likely saying something, even if Garth couldn't hear it.
"That's great news, but why does she know that?" the Enforcer asked the Cat, sounding more than a little concerned and drawing the Justicar's attention as well.
"Great news?" Justicar Jeryl prompted, the Enforcer twitching in surprise before apparently realizing that they hadn't heard whatever Honored Hansa had said.
"Ah – Jaina reached out to Kari and then he to Hansa, Darius Vars has been arrested," the Enforcer relayed, glancing back at the Cat who leapt up to claim one of the taller stools for himself, tail coiling around his paws as he elaborated.
:Vars is arrested at the Outer Eighth, evidently brought in by Captain Marghi and one Senior Lieutenant Bron on the Captain's authority after hearing of sufficiently severe crimes from a civilian, rather than on your own warrant, Justicar Jeryl. A runner has been sent here for a prisoner transfer squad, and the messenger is remaining there as a witness from outside the Sector Station, as there are apparently more than a few officers who have been compromised by Vars and the Oathbreaker.:
"This is the best news I've had all day," Justicar Jeryl said gleefully, practically tearing into his desk for whatever forms he was filling out next, "I'll order a prisoner transfer squad immediately, and stop by to compile names with Mattis on my way back. You three are welcome to remain here, I'll be back as soon as I'm done speaking with Mattis and will want to discuss questioning Vars with you, Master Nolans."
"Of course, Justicar," he said quietly, glad for his woolen gloves and the fact the basement cells had been chilled enough he'd pulled them back on. It at least meant white knuckles didn't give him away, even if the Enforcer's quick glance at his hands made it likely the soldier had noticed his bone-creaking grip anyway.
Focusing on the Firecat and scrambling to think of something to distract them from him, he registered the name of the other officer who arrested Vars and felt his heart seize in his chest for an entirely different reason.
"Is there any word on Senior Lieutenant Bron's son, Honored Hansa?" he asked, hoping his voice wasn't as desperate as he feared it was, elaborating quickly, "I never knew for certain but – Gari was sick often, and usually right before something went well for Vars."
:Jaina and your sister apparently encountered the Senior Lieutenant's family en route to the Sector Station and have confirmed that the boy – Gari, you said? – is no longer cursed,: Hansa replied, :They arrived at the Sector Station after Vars had already been dragged in, the man is unconscious.:
Because of course Maude had decided to go to the Sector Station, likely to try and give her own testimony and pointedly make eye contact and smile at some of the men who had ignored him when he tried to give them information. Who had spat on him for ever daring to think he could try and mitigate Vars. For not doing enough, as if anything they did or said to him could be any worse than the long nights staring at the ceiling hearing the voices of the people he'd failed. Of the ones he'd not even dared to try and save.
The Justicar stamped and signed one more piece of paper before standing and absentmindedly waving a hand over his desk, muttering under his breath and leaving strands of light trailing in the air behind his gesture. They faded slowly as he walked out the door, saying, "I will be back shortly," and shutting it behind him.
Before Garth could let himself fade back into the blank-eyed daze that had gotten him through waiting out the Oathbreaker's interrogation, Enforcer Bellamy shoved his chair around to more properly face him and leaned forward, visibly concerned, "Garth Nolans, are you all right?"
"Vars is actually caught," he said, intending it to be an opener for a mostly serious 'how could I be anything else' but the second phrase caught in his throat and he couldn't speak. The numb repetition of words he should be thrilled about, words he was thrilled about, thrilled beyond imagining to know that they were real, that they were true –
A hand closed around his wrist and he jerked away, but the grip didn't tighten, the hand let him go.
Ragged breathing filled his ears, and he bowed his head. He had to pull together at least long enough to speak with the Justicar about Vars and how to question him. How to get the man to answer questions when he'd be perfectly happy staring you down with a grin if you didn't show just enough horror to be entertaining but not so much to be boring and balance it with a fight to try and stop whatever horror he was perpetrating but not fight hard enough he killed you instead because Maude needed you, she asked you to come home every time you walked out the door you had to get home to your sister –
Cream and brick fur appeared in his line of sight, the Firecat slowly crawling up to settle on his legs before butting his head against Garth's hand. He barely managed to not scramble to his feet and dump the Cat on the ground but was now at least panicking for an entirely different reason because this was a Firecat!
"Back in the moment?" Bellamy asked, voice sympathetic, "Apologies for grabbing you first, didn't think that through properly."
"I'm usually not this jumpy," Garth refuted, shaking his head and hesitating before giving into temptation and carding his fingers through Honored Hansa's thick coat. Honored Hansa was very warm.
Bellamy didn't say anything for a while, leaning back in his chair of choice and stretching his legs out in front of him, but any appearance of nonchalance was undercut by the thoughtful expression on his face as he watched Garth and Honored Hansa. It wasn't uncomfortable, bizarrely enough. This man was a stranger to him, and Garth didn't feel like diving out of the way because he was being stared at. Because he was so clearly being examined.
This man had staked his life and soul on Garth's word. If anyone had the right to examine him, it was Lieutenant-Enforcer Bellamy.
"You remind me of my brother," the Enforcer said abruptly, Garth glancing over at him and raising an eyebrow, because that hardly seemed relevant.
By the wry smile, his question came across, and the Enforcer elaborated, "He's also my Firestarter, but brother came first. Knowing that what you are being ordered to do, what you have to do, in order to have any chance of surviving and perhaps saving somebody else further down the line, is evil, is wrong – I am fortunate, in that Kir did not ask me to be his Enforcer until after he knew Solaris was to Ascend. We ran into more than a few ridiculous situations over the years preparing for her Ascent, but we never killed innocents in the course of it. Did not have turn our gaze away from evil acts in the name of preserving ourselves for future good deeds. So I cannot say I understand what you have endured, working under Vars and the Oathbreaker and trying to mitigate what harm they did, but I can see that you have endured, have suffered, and see something familiar in it. I mean no offense at the comparison."
"He knew?" Garth asked, bowing his head to hide his flinch at being compared to a Firestarter. At hearing an echo of his own situation in the description of a Firestarter.
They had been nightmares.
Val – properly called Valerik, properly a Firestarter – had been on the entertaining-and-harmless list for decades.
"That the children he burned were innocents, that Talents were nothing worthy of condemnation in and of themselves? Yes. He knew. The other Firestarters – no. Perhaps they doubted, or carefully didn't let themselves think about things too hard, but more than a few of them genuinely believed they were saving souls and punishing only true evil, doing what they did," the Enforcer replied, voice still even. Still calm.
There was no reason for the Enforcer to have answered him. There was no reason for any of this.
"Garth Nolans, you were wronged," Bellamy said intently, "Before the reforms and after, when our attempts at safeguards to give a hand to those who deserved a second chance fell through. Your Captain should never have denied your appeal, and the fact that the Oathbreaker and Vars worked so very hard at ensuring you were never heard is testament to your own threat level to them. You were wronged, and the system failed you utterly. Allow us to fix it, and offer you recompense."
"You listened," Garth said, shaking his head and laughing shakily, "You listened, Lieutenant-Enforcer. You never even doubted me. That – that is recompense enough."
"Hmm. Perhaps," the soldier allowed, a peculiar expression on his face before it cleared and he clapped his hands together briskly, straightening in his seat, "Right then! I have some concerns to raise with the Justicar regarding usage of the truth compulsion and techniques for dodging that he should be aware of before using it for more complex interrogations, but once I hand over that information and verify that I am no longer needed, I rather think it is time for me to exit this investigation. I am no longer contributing meaningfully, and lingering will only lead to worries of external influence. I will be honest with you, Master Nolans, I do not think you should remain any longer than I. It is almost Seventh Day, and Vars' questioning is not going to be a quick thing, you will have to leave partway through regardless, and if I were to guess, I would say you haven't slept in well over a day."
"If I were to be honest, I would say I am not entirely convinced I am not dreaming, and a lot of that is due to exhaustion," Garth admitted wryly, exhaling shakily, "I – do not disagree, Lieutenant-Enforcer."
"Which only leaves arranging it, yes," the Enforcer said mildly, but with narrowed eyes, "I rather think it can be done. Then if you don't mind, I'll tuck these signs of office away and accompany you to your sister's market stall – admittedly, that's mostly because I remember the route back into the Temple District from the Seventh-Eighth market and would rather retrace my steps than try and figure out a new route from here."
"Then it'll just be the blood on your coat making people step aside," Garth said dryly, startled at his own daring but before he could tack on the proper title, the man laughed, plucking at said coat wryly.
"Yes well. People not dodging out of my path is rather unusual, even now. I'll hardly notice the difference. Hansa, will you be remaining here past the pair of us?"
:Yes. I will remain until you reach your Hall, as I suspect Solaris will not be leaving until she has a chance to speak with you,: Honored Hansa said, the Enforcer nodding agreeably as if the idea of Her Eminence the Most Holy wanting to speak with him was utterly ordinary and not at all something that should cause a complete panic, especially in a blood stained coat.
This soldier's existence wasn't helping dispel the surreal quality of the day at all.
=pagebreak=
Anur let the silence settle, hoping that something of what he had said got through to Nolans, because none of what he had said was wrong – and if the resemblance to Kir's attitudes and the echo of Kir's situation were any sign, convincing the man of his own worth as a moral person trapped in a horrific situation would be a very long process. Possibly a never ending one, but Anur lived in hope.
:Thank you, Hansa, for offering him reassurance,: Anur said. He'd never seen Hansa physically affectionate with anyone but Solaris, unlike Kari, who he honestly would have picked up and dropped on Garth's lap with only a brief heads up to the Cat, but when Garth had visibly lost himself in his own head and Anur's attempt at a grounding gesture had gone badly wrong, he'd hissed the Firecat's name and the Cat had already been moving.
:He truly needed that reassurance, and a physical anchor in the present time,: Hansa replied calmly, eyes mostly shut and to all appearances a very large cat enjoying scritches, sacred origin aside, :Also, he is unlikely to try and leverage this gesture as some sort of holy approval of all of his actions past, present and future, which rather allows me to enjoy this without worrying overmuch about consequences.:
Anur had to blink, because that sort of leveraging of a Firecat's mere presence… honestly hadn't occurred to him. Not to that extreme at any rate; the general approval, certainly, that seemed to be the whole point of Hansa appearing at Solaris' side publicly in the first place. But that overarching and far too broad generalization that Hansa had rattled off? Impossible. Besides, temporary allowance of physical contact was entirely different from being partnered in the sense that Hansa was to Solaris and Kari was to the Firestarters.
:It is not particularly likely, but as tied up as my presence is to Solaris' reign and her own rightness as the Son of the Sun, it is an interpretation I am sure some overzealous individuals will attempt to make. Also, very few people know how to properly stroke a cat. Nolans is adequate.:
:He's just picky,: Kari inserted, at least sounding more amused than he did exhausted, :And jealous of me.:
:Hmm. No,: Hansa retorted, tail flicking idly, :Fifteen people is too much work.:
:Sixteen, excuse you. Though Aelius is not very good at scratches.:
:I could hold a curry comb in my teeth?: Aelius offered.
Anur was hard pressed not to snicker out loud at the mental image that came along with Aelius' response, and Kari didn't bother, laughing through his retort, :Let's leave that for when we're trying to remind everyone that we get along quite well, regardless of you being a supposed white demon.:
Any reply to that was interrupted by Jeryl returning, walking in mid-conversation with Justicar Mattis, who was carrying a fresh mug of his Kir-strength tea. Anur could feel his own taste-buds practically shriveling in sympathy, he had no idea how either of them drank that regularly. Years down the line and Kir's idea of morning wake-up tea still made him gag when he tried to suffer through it for the admittedly excellent wake-up benefits.
The priests were in the midst of discussing the information Justicar Miles had found out about the willing co-conspirator they had somewhat accidentally dragged in with them. Perfect, that topic would make a good segue. Anur waited for a pause before speaking up though, no need to be rude without urgency.
"Justicars," he said, nodding politely when the two men focused on him, "Before we discuss anything further, I wanted to raise some points about ways to circumvent the truth compulsion or dodge it, as I believe you thought this particular priest attempted?"
"Managed, if I'm understanding what Miles found right," Jeryl said, sitting down again and waving Mattis to a seat while he snagged yet more paper. The man took the stool Hansa had been on, sending a long look at Garth, still half buried in Firecat, but not saying anything and not staring much past that glance. Good, Garth hardly needed to be put more on edge.
"Understandable. I'm unsure if you what you were writing were notes or transcripts for the Oathbreaker, but at least some of the phrasing you used bothered me, in the sense that there were what we've taken to calling loophole phrases, that could very easily have manifested in your earlier questions too, they can be difficult to avoid," Anur explained, leaving the fact that 'we' meant 'legal officials in Valdemar, particularly Heralds' and not simply 'myself and Kir', "With the Oathbreaker, he apparently is no longer capable of dodging questions, but it sounds like you'd like to use these compulsions on others in this investigation?"
"I would at the very least like to keep that option open, should it be necessary or helpful," Jeryl said, focusing on Mattis, "You should hear this too, likely."
"Hmm, agreed, and not just because I find this fascinating," the other Justicar said, "Take your own notes or should I grab a scribe?"
"Oh, fair point, scribe. I'll be writing reports into the night as it is, thank you Mattis."
The Justicar went to the door and called one of the acolytes over, and very deliberately mostly shut the door on the sound of a brief scuffle outside it, looking more than a little amused. Anur could imagine the sort of scuffles Etrius would get into over taking records of something like this, and managed to change his laugh to a cough.
The acolyte that rapped on the door at least hadn't obviously brawled to get here, and Mattis introduced him, "Acolyte Willas, you'll be taking a transcription of our conversation regarding truth compulsions. This is Lieutenant-Enforcer Anur Bellamy, associate of His Incandescence, and Master Garth Nolans, the man who helped crack this whole thing open, and Firecat Honored Hansa."
Acolyte Willas bowed deeply, definitely working very hard to mask his glee with solemnity, and Anur took the time he was setting up to take notes at a small table evidently intended for scribes to insert, "I don't know if this is particularly relevant, but his preferred title is Incendiary. It also has the benefit of being much shorter and easier to spell."
The Justicars both snorted, but Jeryl nodded at the acolyte's questioning glance, so with any luck there wouldn't be new formal records listing Kir as Incandescence. It wasn't much, in the face of the sheer mess that today had become, but it was something.
"Before you start, Lieutenant-Enforcer," Garth said, the serious glance between Justicars a little undercut by the Firecat slowly turning into a fur puddle on his lap – the man was apparently very good with Cats – reminding them, "I have offered testimony under this truth compulsion and assume that some of my further testimony will be subject to the same. Is this a conversation you want me listening to?"
Anur didn't see why knowing some loophole phrases would make Nolans any more capable of subverting the truth spell, not when Jeryl and Mattis also knew them, but he also wasn't an investigative specialist. He'd only done the usual circuit work a couple of times before snagging messenger runs and then lurking along the southern border – and border work didn't lead to much Truth Spell usage. He'd used the Truth Spell for Kir far more often than he'd ever used it as a Herald.
The Justicars were having their own mostly silent conversation, with short gestures and a few words and very speaking facial expressions, before Jeryl gave a final shrug and turned to Garth, saying, "I do not think knowing how the compulsion works will give you any advantage in subverting it, particularly seeing as you've already received a partial explanation and run into some of the ways it is not quite what we imagine a truth compulsion to be. You will be questioned by myself or Mattis and full transcripts will be written up, so any loophole phrases of that like can be noted. But to be frank, I don't plan to use these compulsion-based testimonies alone. Supporting evidence and witnesses and records will be actively looked for and pursued, and evidence against what is said under the truth compulsion will also be considered. Using any sort of spell-craft based testimony as the be all and end all of our justice system is foolish and short sighted in the extreme, as all truth compulsions have caveats and loopholes, it's in their nature."
"As you firmly believe all truth compulsions have caveats and loopholes, it's a philosophical exercise and you can't use one example as total proof!" Mattis said pointedly, taking a long sip of tea.
"Two examples, thank you!"
"One of those examples is apparently fundamentally flawed in implementation you can't use that as a successful case – "
"Sorry, I'm going to cut in here, Holinesses," Anur interrupted, settling back in his chair and letting his amusement show, "As I know very well what the start of a philosophical argument not only sounds like, but can lead to, and I would like to leave this building sometime today."
"Fair enough, apologies, Lieutenant-Enforcer, Master Nolans," Jeryl said, smiling faintly before promptly glowering at Mattis and hissing, "You don't even disagree with me don't start."
"I may agree with your arguments but that doesn't mean our conclusion is true," Mattis scoffed, turning to Anur and prompting, "It sounds as though some discussion of the truth compulsion has already happened off the record, but would you be willing to reiterate the explanation?"
"I can certainly try," Anur agreed, before focusing on Jeryl and asking, "Before I do so, though, Justicar Jeryl, you mentioned that you thought there was some dodging of the compulsion, that being why you pulled that priest to Fourth Court. What specifically brought you to that conclusion?"
"To be honest, I only suspected some form of dodging because of the long pauses before answering, and some odd phrasing and stumbling over words. If he had been able to answer more fluidly, I would not have registered things as odd," Jeryl admitted, grimacing. Likely since they had since discovered the man in question was a willing co-conspirator with the Oathbreaker, and not taking him to Fourth Court right away could have led to some disastrous consequences.
"Fortunate for us then," Anur said, waiting for Acolyte Willas to glance his way and nod before starting his lecture.
"Under Tell Me True, once you start speaking, it is very difficult to stop, if not impossible, so forcibly switching from lie to truth can have that stumbling effect," Anur began, hoping he didn't slip up and say Second Stage Truth Spell at some point, "But as you noted, it could also be an effort to determine a technically true answer that isn't to your direct question, perhaps resulting in that odd phrasing you noted. Further, while I didn't hear your questions in that case, Holiness, there are those loophole phrases you should avoid, to prevent those sorts of dodges from being possible – 'so you say' is a big one, any reference to the person saying something, because so long as they have said it at some point, it is technically true. It takes some… dancing, to manage that sort of a dodge, because Tell Me True reacts to the individual's emotional reaction to lying – if they're emotionally conscious of the fact they are lying, it can register the lie even if, speaking literally, what they are saying is true. That can get – difficult to determine or notice. The opposite holds true as well of course, if the person genuinely believes they are speaking the truth, they could be saying something completely inaccurate and have it register as true.
"That was the focus of the off the record discussion of the truth compulsion," Anur said, focusing on Justicar Mattis, "With a particular reference to identification – suppose Justicar Jeryl had a habit of donning plainclothes to go out for drinks and had an entire subsidiary civilian identity going by Jer. If you were aware of this and asked under truth compulsion some questions about events surrounding Justicar Jeryl's actions as Jer, you would be able to speak of him as Jer, civilian, until you reached a point where his identity as Justicar was more critical to the tale you were telling. If he had to pull rank on a Sunsguard in this story you were telling, for example, you would likely have to switch to calling him Jeryl rather than Jer, because that authority being possible was contingent on his identity as Jeryl, Justicar of the First Order, not Jer, random civilian."
By the amused expressions on both the Justicars faces, they at least were both aware of the Val-Valerik situation. Ah well, the acolyte probably wasn't and these records would likely be distributed far and wide if the truth compulsion truly ended up being used with any frequency. Just as well to keep the Val and Valerik association under wraps if possible.
:Did I say anything completely wrong?: Anur prompted Hansa, also giving Acolyte Willas a chance to catch up with his probably-shorthand.
:An accurate summary,: Hansa broadcast, flicking his tail and continuing as if he were only responding to what Anur had said out loud, :Absolute truth regardless of perception is impossible to enforce at a non-Divine level.:
"I told you!"
"I never said you were wrong, Jeryl!"
:…Good to know,: Anur decided, not touching that philosophical debate even though he could feel Aelius' own intrigue at Hansa's response, and he hurried to add a question, :It's known in Valdemar that some people do not have the same emotional responses to lies as the majority, rendering our truth spell useless when applied to them. Is that true for yours?:
:I would think so. My understanding is that they are responding to the same emotional stimuli,: Hansa said to him alone, after a few moments of thought, :I cannot say I have encountered that situation, however. Do they register as always liars or as telling the truth despite their lies?:
:Always liars,: Anur replied, quickly switching back to speaking aloud.
"Aside from those points – there are some people who simply do not have the same emotional responses to lies as the majority. I would not say it is common, but they exist. For those individuals, everything they say registers as a lie – "
:Ah wait how does that work with second stage truth spell, are they just mute?: he asked Aelius frantically.
:They choke on their attempt at speaking, regardless of what they are trying to say. So somewhat, but it is also noticeable, not something that can be mistaken for silence.:
"- which in the context of Tell Me True's compulsion, renders them unable to formulate a response: spluttering, choking on their attempt to say anything, no matter how innocuous. It will be obvious that they aren't simply refusing to say anything," Anur continued, sending wordless thanks Aelius' way. That had been far too close for comfort.
Getting back to the 62nd, where none of his and Kir's careful dancing around truth was necessary, was going to be such a relief. If anyone not read in on things was visiting when he and Kir finally got back, he might actually start crying. It had only just been a full day since they arrived in Sunhame, the bells for Seventh Day had only just rung.
Half a year. They'd never have to go through a Midwinter with this hanging over their heads again, thank the Sunlord.
"Finally, someone can simply sit in silence the whole time, but once they start speaking they can't stop until their idea of the truth has been completely said – perhaps not the complete truth or story, but they have to believe they have answered your question before they can cease speaking. You can't answer a question with 'fourteen' and cut yourself off after only saying 'four' out loud, for example," Anur concluded, wanting to wince at that memory.
:Did I miss anything?:
:Nothing I can think of,: Aelius admitted, :Not without giving us away, at any rate.:
:True enough,: Anur conceded.
"Valuable information, all," Justicar Mattis said, eyeing him thoughtfully, as was most of the room. Not Hansa, he was definitely more puddle than Cat right now. "May I ask how you know so much about this working?"
"We tested it quite a bit," Anur replied, smiling and knowing the expression was a little too sharp to be friendly but unable and unwilling to avoid it, not with memory of the way those tests had hurt Kir so very fresh. "Trying to determine if someone enjoyed calling Furies down regardless of their targets or if they genuinely believed they were defending the Faithful is difficult to manage without being blatantly obvious, after all. Testing our tools in advance is only sensible."
"Vars' interrogation will be double-transcribed, in addition to my own notes," Jeryl said, exchanging a look with Mattis as he continued, "If you would be available to review transcripts of that questioning, with an eye for those loophole phrases, so I can start building awareness of just what might qualify, I would appreciate it."
"I would be willing to do that, though would insist I only see a copy," Anur said, not wanting to risk any appearance of interfering or editing the records of the interrogation.
"Yes of course," the Justicars chorused, tones equally dismissive. These two had definitely worked with one another for a while.
"Thank you for taking notes, Acolyte Willas," Jeryl said, passing the acolyte a stack of forms he'd apparently been filling out while he listened, "If you could disperse these to the appropriate records keepers."
"Of course Your Holiness," the acolyte said, offering each Justicar a bow and a rapidly re-solidifying Hansa a far deeper one before sparing Anur and Garth a nod a-piece and leaving, door shutting behind him.
"Well we apparently need to have a lecture on how to respectfully acknowledge instated Investigators and their equivalents," Jeryl said ruefully, Anur giving the man a puzzled look. He didn't recognize that title at all, and it sounded like they were equivalent to Enforcers. If there were particular customs for acknowledging Enforcers as opposed to anyone else, he didn't know them – not outside of the Sunsguard's many-layered forms of saluting, that is.
"Investigators are assistants in our investigations with authority considered equal to that of a Justicar for the duration of the investigation or whatever situation merited their investiture," Jeryl explained, "Not a permanent position, unlike yours, and not tied to a particular Justicar, also unlike yours. It's indicated by giving them our Sun in Glory of office, I assume that is why the Incendiary gave you his Sun in Glory."
"He said something about there being no doubt I speak for him, but it's entirely possible he was aware of that parallel and didn't have the chance to tell me," Anur said, making a mental note to follow up with Kir on that and ask after Investigators in general, because it was an interesting parallel to his own position, as Jeryl pointed out.
"On an unrelated note, how complicated was this scheme?" Mattis asked curiously, "The length of that list of involved individuals was certainly long, but how much are District politics going to play into this?"
"So much," Anur said dryly.
"As the Enforcer says," Jeryl grimaced, shaking his head, "This is undoubtedly going to take moons to unravel properly, even without having to fight him for answers. His various ideal and less than ideal iterations of his plans were very nested, and almost impressively resilient to different outcomes of the literal charity temple attack."
"Always has at least four ways to make a plan work, no matter how it falls out, Your Holinesses," Nolans said, grimacing and looking more than a little haunted, even with two of his nightmare-bringers confirmed to be caught. Them being caught did nothing to mitigate the nightmares they'd already caused. "Even if the plan doesn't work at all he – he always gets something out of it."
"Got," Anur corrected quietly, "He's done escaping now."
"I'll be honest, sirs. I won't truly believe that till I watch him die," Nolans said, Hansa slowly climbing down from the man's lap and settling in another chair with more poise, for all the world as if he hadn't spent the entirety of the previous discussion as a puddle of fur.
Anur couldn't manage a smile at Hansa's sheer Cat, though, because he remembered Cristan, and remembered the utter terror he had felt on seeing the man's acolytes again, not even seeing the torturer himself. That had been after only a few days under that man's power, in a nation he knew was filled with enemies, and something he had been trained to expect upon capture. He had nightmares for years, he still had those nightmares sometimes, and if he had trusted Kir anything less than utterly, his brother's word that the man was dead would not have been enough. If anyone but Kir or Aelius had told him of Cristan's death, he wouldn't have believed them, not really. Not truly. Nolans had suffered under the Oathbreaker for years.
"If execution is the route decided upon, I'll ensure you have the chance to witness it," Jeryl said, looking frustrated, "To be frank, determining what exactly the Voice meant by mortal justice remains is going to take time, on top of actually dismantling this one's schemes. For situations such as this, particularly with his magecraft gone, something along the lines of hard labor for the benefit of those he disdains would be preferred to straight execution. I seldom find execution to be truly just. Sometimes I find it to be practical, as securing individuals with magic or magically inclined allies is, to put it mildly, an expensive and above all risky endeavor, but for this? I would prefer something more poetic.
"But you say, Honored Hansa, that he is incapable of understanding consequences any longer. Is it just, then, to use his shell for labor he can no longer comprehend as being a punishment? Can he even realize that what he is experiencing is a punishment, is a consequence of being caught? He could very well never have realized he was in the wrong, never have felt guilt or remorse for what he did, and only regret that he was caught. But now it sounds as if even that avenue is closed to him. Besides even that, he has no reason to not say whatever he likes – even if he has no interest in lying, I don't doubt he can cause quite a bit of emotional distress and harm without any trouble at all, just by opening his mouth. Would that be just, then, to have others suffer his presence when he is incapable of feeling any degree of remorse for anything?"
:I don't mean to quote Lieutenant Corinth, but that sounds like it's above my paygrade, thank the Sunlord,: Anur commented, barely managing to suppress a wince. The reference to poetic justice called Markov to mind far too easily, and as much as he loved his uncle, he'd had nightmares from his apparently-true stories for years.
:This time, at least,: Aelius pointed out.
Before anyone felt obligated to attempt a response to Jeryl's near rant, Anur said, "From the perspective of my involvement, Your Holinesses, if the Firestarters could receive a copy of your notes on the Oathbreaker's interrogation, particularly in reference to why Valerik was targeted, and the various ways the Firestarters were both intentional and incidental targets to the scheme, that would be appreciated. I heard enough to give a summary but official records would be preferred. I would also prefer to remain here until Vars is officially here and under lock and key, but after that, might be best for the appearance of impartiality that I leave afterwards."
"I can see that," Jeryl said thoughtfully, Justicar Mattis only nodding in agreement. Nolans certainly had no objections, he'd been the one to point the potential problems with Firestarters running the investigation to begin with. As it was, Firestarters were far too involved in the dismantling and uncovering for rumors of some sort of conspiracy to never start, but they would be able to do their damndest to keep them from gaining any ground.
"There's going to be some sort of testimony gathering effort for the Firestarters tomorrow, with the chance for questions on the Hunting Rite, isn't there?" Mattis asked, drumming his fingers against his mug, "We could easily arrange for copies of Jeryl's notes to be made before then."
"I'd also add copies of whatever information we extract from Vars or from the Oathbreaker in follow up questions," Jeryl said, grimacing, "Though I have my doubts as to how much useful information we'll be able to get out of Vars in a timely fashion, even with the compulsion. Ranting and raving and silence for quite a while, would be my guess. One of the reasons I'm so glad to have your cooperation, Master Nolans, as at least with your explanations of what he has done and situations he's been involved in, I might be able to prompt some sort of reaction."
"He's proud," Garth said abruptly, gloved hands fisted on his knees and practically flinching when he realized he'd spoken with no title and biting out, "Apologies, Your Holinesses. But Vars is – he's proud. And he likes watching people flinch, but he likes having to work to make you flinch more. If you flinch to quickly he – moves on. To another target. Same if it takes too long, though."
Both Justicars were watching Garth with thoughtful expressions, and Anur didn't like where his own mind was heading, because Garth clearly knew Vars, had apparently been doing his level best to manage and mitigate the man for years. His expertise on Vars and on dealing with the man could be invaluable for extracting information. Forcing him to listen to Vars' undoubtedly cruel recitations of all the horrible things he had managed to get away with and forced others to be complicit in, including Garth Nolans himself – it would be cruel. It would be needlessly cruel.
"What is the point of questioning Vars, Justicar Jeryl?" Anur finally asked, "Names, I suppose, verification. But what are you investigating, exactly, and can that information be gained outside of an interrogation or at the very least with brief and targeted questions that don't involve forcing people to allow themselves to be verbally assaulted by an already known to be criminal man."
"I would volunteer for such a thing, Lieutenant-Enforcer," Garth Nolans insisted.
"I would have volunteered for a lot of things to ensure the one who tortured me died," Anur replied flatly, "That does not mean that those things would have been necessary. You mentioned that you were working with your sister to gather evidence and witnesses to bring down the Oathbreaker and Vars under the old regime, but in the chaos of last winter's changeover, the Oathbreaker was able to ensure no one would listen to you. Does that mean the evidence and witnesses you found are no longer viable, or simply that he ensured he had leverage on anyone you would be able to report to?"
"I have – records," Garth said, sounding more than a little blindsided, "Including official Sector Station copies of arrests made and ways that Vars made penalties worse, or ways that investigations were turned off course. Got them before they were destroyed. Aside from myself and my sister as witnesses, I know quite a few who would be willing to testify against Vars, but I suspect – ah. I suspect they already are, after the golden flames business ensuring any magical leverage vanished. With Vars arrested so publicly too? I'd bet there's a line out the Sector Station door."
"That is a fair point," Jeryl said, glancing between them and smiling faintly, "Though I will rarely say no to additional documentation. Point taken, Lieutenant-Enforcer, though I might have to ask for such an intervention as this investigation goes on, Master Nolans. It will hopefully not prove necessary, but I would rather not guarantee anything."
Garth's nod was rather jerky, and he seemed verging on total disbelief, which was understandable, if sad, but Anur left that for what it was, the best any of them could sanely promise. Justicar Mattis stood, glancing between them all before saying, "I'll be starting on testimony from those who claimed coercion here. The prioritization we discussed should start bringing further arrests soon, and one of us is going to have to brief the other Courts. And by one of us I mean you, Jeryl."
"I'll write up a more thorough summary and for the scribes to copy," Jeryl agreed, "Thank you Mattis."
"You can thank me by letting me breathe long enough to finish end of year summary reports," Mattis retorted, turning to Anur and Garth and inclining his head politely, "I suspect we will be seeing each other again. My thanks, for your assistance in this investigation and bringing this to light. Honored Hansa, a true honor."
With that, he swept out.
"With the time, and the Lieutenant-Enforcer's points regarding the purpose of interrogating Darius Vars, I think it might be best if you depart at the same time – after Vars is hauled in of course, I would prefer not to tempt fate. We discussed that yourself and your sister would return to offer further testimony but not a particular time. I understand your sister has her market stall to run, but would you be able to bring some of those records you saved tomorrow? Say, Third Day or thereabouts?"
"I won't be able to carry all of them, sir, these are – these are years worth of documents you're talking about," Garth said, "I will honestly need more than a day simply to retrieve all of them from where they are hidden. Is there a particular incident or time period you're most interested in?"
By the way Justicar Jeryl's eyes were gleaming, he was very excited at the thought of having thorough documentation to peruse. At least the man found joy in his work.
:Aelius, do you remember if Kir packed those notes he has from when he was first reconstructing the Hunting Rite? I have a feeling there are some Justicars here who would quite literally bargain with blood for them.:
=pagebreak=
Talking to her brother about just how the Captain of the Outer Eighth knew him – and just what Kir had shared with the man – was getting more important with every moment. At least this officer seemed a decent one, listening intently to the summary of what he had missed while arresting Vars and ordering a few reshufflings that seemed more than reasonable to Jaina, though she didn't know the specific men and taskings he was having rearranged.
To be fair, a lot of her assessment was being based on his treatment of Vars and Vars' victims, particularly Bretta's husband. It would be very, very easy to condemn the man for what Vars made him do, for what he may have even done to try and appease Vars without being directly asked, because direct coercion was the least of what could have happened. What almost certainly had happened. But there seemed to be no sign of that; indeed, by body language and the way the Captain had phrased his orders regarding the Senior Lieutenant, she suspected the Captain was ready and willing to fight to give Bretta's husband a chance.
The only reason Jaina herself was still breathing was because the new regime had given her a chance. She could hardly begrudge anyone else receiving the same.
Maude was only starting on her testimony, and Jaina didn't have much to offer and doubted she'd be welcome to hover much longer. Fortunately, the Captain was giving her a perfect reason to stay, just by sitting at a desk and starting to write out a report.
"Captain, your face is not only bleeding, one of those gouges is either deep enough I'm seeing your cheekbone or there's debris caught in it," Jaina said, stepping forward so she didn't have to pitch her voice to truly carry but not bothering trying to speak lowly either. Better to have others hearing what she said. Fewer questions or suspicions that way.
"I realize your usual medics are likely occupied," she said dryly, glancing at the bustling station and the queue of people waiting to give testimony, the Senior Lieutenant newly tucked away with Bretta and Gari in a corner as far from Vars as they could get, and the other Senior Lieutenants who had started appearing and immediately being sucked into the thick of things. Some sort of ranking meeting was scheduled, if Jaina had to guess. Might need to be rescheduled.
The Captain huffed a laugh, glancing her way with a wry gleam in his eyes as he said, "You offering, Mistress Jana?"
"I am an herbalist," she sniffed, guessing by the amused twist to his expression that Kir had at the very least told the Captain of her and Valerik's proper names and ranks. She would have to somehow request the Captain not let Val know that he knew or at least not how he had found out – depending on how this shook out, she might be able to leave Valerik with the impression Kir and Anur still didn't know about the bail out fund, and one day she would get to watch him panic over it.
"A herbalist who bails her brother out in assorted sorry conditions on the regular, no less," she continued, "Carrying basic wound treatment equipment only makes sense."
"I'm not moving until Fourth Court gets here to take Vars into custody," he warned.
"I'd hardly ask you to, Captain," Jaina said tartly, setting her bag on the desk next to his papers and promptly pulling out a jar of her favored wound-poultice, a carefully wrapped packet of needles, tweezers and thread, and a stack of clean kerchiefs, "All I would need is boiled water, possibly a candle for the tweezers if that really is debris, and I can be pointed somewhere to manage that myself."
A lit timekeeping candle was promptly set on the far corner of the desk, a harried-looking Sergeant Oskar ordering a patrolman to get a fresh kettle and empty mug, hold the tea. The Captain raised an eyebrow at the man, a very familiar face after these years bailing out Valerik, and the Sergeant simply scowled. Watching the non-verbal conversation that ensued was rather entertaining, but with relatively few flicking gazes and twitched fingers – nothing uncanny, to her trained eyes, simply two men with enough experiences in common to develop a shorthand – whatever debate they were having was resolved and Oskar turned to reassign a few men who looked a little too idle for his taste. One of them being an officer did nothing to phase him.
"It seems, Mistress Jana, I will be taking you up on your offer," the Captain said, gaze flicking her way before he nodded politely and said, "I doubt we have ever been properly introduced, my name is Caleb Marghi."
"Pleasure, Captain Marghi," she said, nodding respectfully and very deliberately not returning the introduction. For one, she had never bothered establishing a last name as Jana, though it was an easy enough lie to make. For another, this man almost certainly knew that the name he was calling her was false, so returning his genuine introduction with one he would know as a falsehood hardly seemed equivalent.
He didn't seem phased by the seeming lack of reciprocity, instead letting her tilt his head so she had a better view of what she was working with, speaking lowly and hardly moving his lips as he did, "Mistress Jaina. Vars made some comments about you."
"Oh he did, did he?" she asked, catching the shift in pronunciation and grateful for the man's discretion, "Anything interesting?"
"Hmm. Oathbreaker apparently warned him off you, told Vars he wanted you for himself," the Captain said, not taking quite as much care with his voice as when he was speaking her name properly, but still keeping his face still. It was much appreciated.
Jaina knew the Oathbreaker's former name and rank thanks to being at Fourth Court with Maude, but his face had been entirely unfamiliar to her. He had skill enough with spell-webs and networking, but had he truly tried to pursue her, Jaina, First Order Firestarter? Even before she'd had Kari to call on with her mind alone, she doubted it would have ended well for him. No, more likely that Vars had tastes that included her as Jana, and the Oathbreaker decided to cut that off at the pass rather than risk the Firestarters investigating his affairs.
"How did that come up?" she asked, deliberately keeping her tone light while she smiled at the patrolman stopping by with a steaming kettle and an empty bowl. Must have already had a kettle on to warm that they could co-opt.
"Oh, I was letting him run his mouth, trying to keep him distracted enough for Senior Lieutenant Bron to get behind him," Marghi said, definitely abridging some of the story, "Gave some prompt about involving Val in whatever plot this was being a mistake, what with your younger brother. Just said Val's family though, he took that as referring to you. Said he'd always wanted to pay you a visit but his sponsor, presumably the Oathbreaker, wanted you for himself."
"Shame he didn't disobey," Jaina said, knowing her voice was too hard, too cold, for the stereotypical civilian merchant wife herbalist she was playing, "I'd have enjoyed watching him die."
Bah. She had introduced herself to the Outer Eighth by kicking in doors and haranguing people far from pure as to her brother's whereabouts. This wasn't out of character.
The Captain's glance was distinctly exasperated, but she raised an eyebrow right back, pouring steaming water over a disinfecting herbal packet and said, "Oh please, it clearly would have been self-defense."
He huffed a laugh, but didn't say anything further, and he returned to writing his summary – too irregularly formatted for it to be a proper report, this was him getting his thoughts down before he forgot details – while she waited for herbs to steep and wiped her hands down with the first of likely many kerchiefs. The steam smelled right, so she soaked a second kerchief and wrung it out, tapping the Captain's shoulder before she tilted his head again, carefully cleaning off the majority of the blood so she could get a better look at the injury. Fortunately beards weren't truly popular in the Sunsguard, not below rather elevated ranks, likely for just this reason – she imagined cleaning injuries around them was a pain. Keeping her own hair safely out of the way of stray fire and washing out the ever-clinging scent of burning flesh was obnoxious enough, and it wasn't directly under her nose.
Verius had delivered a very memorable lecture on the dangers of facial hair. After her ordination, she had looked into the records he'd cited – as they had all suspected, Alfrek the Faceless had never actually existed, or if he had, his name and life story had been altered beyond all recognition, but that did not make the story any less legitimate a life lesson, even if they had all had nightmares about charred and melted faces in the mirror.
Bron had teased her for having them, seeing as she didn't exactly have to worry about growing a beard. Darius had made a crude remark about that hardly being the only hair they had to worry about catching afire, and Kir had loudly asked with overly-wide eyes what Darius was talking about, which had set Darius to stammering and drawn Verius' attention and ire –
Jaina paused in picking up her tweezers – because that was definitely fingernail, not cheekbone – and thought that story over again. Eyes flicking between the Senior Lieutenant who Bretta and Gari were half curled-up with, the unconscious man who had caused so very much suffering, and the summary report the Captain was writing, she had to snort.
"Mistress Jana?" the Captain prompted, glancing up and grimacing when he spotted her holding her tweezers in the candle flame, "Debris, then? I suppose I should be grateful it's not bone."
"Would require stitches if it was bone, yes," Jaina agreed, flicking her fingers dismissively as she waited for the freshly seared metal to cool sufficiently, "Might still, have to see how the poultice holds. Not why I laughed. I finally realized why his name's been bothering me."
"Who's name, Vars?" the Captain asked, trying to frown and wincing when his freshly cleaned facial wounds protested, "Have you heard it somewhere before? I could take your testimony now, if you like."
"Not necessary, Captain," Jaina assured him, tipping his head again and carefully extracting the chunk of fingernail. Definitely large enough for her to cut into three pieces, should she need to. Perfect. Vars could try escaping as much as he liked, she'd hunt him down regardless, "No, I haven't heard his name before, not that I recall at least. I was just laughing at the parallels."
She had to pause a moment, both to place the fingernail piece safely in a kerchief and to let herself run through the story she would need to tell to present this. Pieces of it she'd developed before, though never had reason to speak of it. Not many people spoke to her as Jana, not really, certainly not enough to ask questions about her not-real life. Inventing the stories had been a bit of fun, though, and harmless enough. Bron had laughed about it, and after the utter disaster that had been their last year as acolytes, he had laughed so rarely. After he had died, dying the cord she tied her braids back with properly black instead of whatever dark colors she had on hand at the time had been oddly soothing.
"My husband's name was Bron," she said, voice wry as she looked for any more debris in the wounds, "And, like the Senior Lieutenant, he also had a less-than-pleasing cousin named Darius. Nowhere near as bad as this one, but definitely not one I wanted to invite to stay for dinner outside of familial obligation."
"That is a rather amusing parallel," the Captain agreed, hesitating before saying lowly, "My sympathies for your loss, Mistress Jana."
"It was years ago," she said quietly, wondering if he even realized that this dead husband of hers had once actually existed, if not been her husband, "But my thanks, all the same. With a little help, these won't need stitches, if you don't mind?"
She had the candle flame flicker, to try and give him a better idea of what she meant by help. Normally she would simply use her magic to help the healing along without asking permission, she had learned wordless healing cantrips for just that reason, but he had recognized Kir and Anur, and they'd have no reason to know a then-Senior Lieutenant in the city guard, so he must have been transferred in from a banditry unit, which was exceptionally rare. He couldn't have been stationed in Kir's unit, or there would have been no hesitation about how they knew one another, and all of that put together meant they had met this man on one of their investigations into potentially corrupt members of the priesthood for Solaris or tracking down blood-magic taint on their own.
It could have been something simple, something where the Captain escaped without any true trauma. But she would rather not alarm him, and it was very difficult to do healing magic subtly enough that not even the recipient noticed something happening. Best to ask.
"Whatever you think best," the man replied politely. Jaina had her hand on his face, though, so she felt the brief tremor that preceded the words. Not as easy to say as it seemed, and her darker theories gained more weight.
With permission granted, Jaina started humming quietly, wringing out the third kerchief and gently cleaning out the wounds one more time. Not truly necessary for all of them, only the one she'd extracted that fingernail piece from, but it covered any visible signs of overly-fast healing – or at least, meant people couldn't see the healing happening. Nothing dramatic, she could hardy walk out with him entirely uninjured, but closing the deeper bits, leaving them as broken skin, rather than gouged flesh.
She might ask Kari to follow up with the Captain, offer to finish the job when there weren't witnesses. Enough priest-mages and miracles had been involved in this mess that he could conceivably tell a story of waking up healed and it wouldn't draw too much attention. That could wait till she'd spoken with Kir as to just how much he'd told this man and just how they knew one another, though.
A fresh commotion by the door drew attention, and Captain Marghi glanced past her and gave a grimly pleased smile, raising his voice and saying, "Fourth Court?"
"Ah, yes Captain," the ranking officer of the huddle, another Senior Lieutenant, stepped forward, saluting and not waiting for the Captain to return it before continuing. Just as well, Jaina was rather in the way of him returning the salute properly. "Senior Lieutenant Harlan, sir. Ran into your messenger en route, we're here to take one Darius Vars into custody. Formal orders, sir."
A seal-bedecked scroll was presented, and Jaina stepped aside politely to let the Captain accept it and read it without being in the way. Technically speaking, she should have done so earlier, but she'd needed to reach a stopping point for her cantrip. As it was, all she had left was applying the honey-based poultice and the Captain would be as treated as she could publicly manage.
The Captain read through everything, asked some seemingly random questions of the man which were evidently identity verification of some sort, then asked one of the Senior Lieutenant's men and the Patrolman standing by Vars to introduce one another as one more verification method. Jaina was rather impressed. He clearly cared, and clearly had imagination, if he was so very deliberate about trying to prevent a whole host of possible enemy-actions.
"He took a blow to the head, no sign of regaining consciousness since," Marghi said bluntly, "Bound wrists, disarmed. This bag contains the weapons on him at the time. I have not yet written up an arrest report, but will have a certified copy sent along before sunset today. Is Justicar Jeryl still the man to direct it to?"
"Yes sir," Harlan agreed, securing the bag of weapons to his own belt while two of his men hauled Vars up, the third adding proper metal cuffs to his wrists and ankles. Jaina knew she wasn't imagining the way tension throughout the station eased at that, and she recognized the subdue-suppress-quiet spells etched into the metal. She was glad those had been broken out – clearly the Justicar was taking no chances at all with this case. She approved.
The Captain and Senior Lieutenant Harlan exchanged salutes and the whole group trooped back out. Jaina couldn't tell who whooped with glee first, but the building was soon ringing with cheers and relieved laughter. The Captain let it ride for a few moments, a faintly pleased expression on his face, before he cut it off with a sharp whistle.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm," he said into the silence that slowly fell, even faint whispers quieting to nothing as he spoke, "But to properly see justice done to Vars, the Nameless Oathbreaker, and those truly loyal to them, we need to gather complete and accurate testimony from as many people as possible. So if you could all please carry on."
Oh Jaina liked this one.
People did as he requested, but tone was definitely lighter, there was definitely far less tension in the room. Maude was wiping tears from her eyes, and it was definitely time for the two of them to duck out. Just as well she was almost finished with her own task.
"Captain," she said, stepping forward again and starting to fold her kerchiefs and supplies away for transport, though she didn't touch the jar of poultice, "I do not think you need stitches, though I will be applying this poultice and leaving it with you for reapplication. I suppose I don't need to give you the keep it clean and moist lecture?"
"I do have some small experience with wound treatment," he said, before near visibly realizing who he was talking to and inclining his head in an awkward attempt to be subtly deferential, "My thanks, Mistress Jana."
Carefully applying a thin layer of the poultice to each of his injuries, now far more mild than they had been, fortunately, Jaina didn't comment. The only reason he had startled was because he recalled the fact she was a priestess, and she could hardly take offense at someone treating her as she intended them to. That was the whole point of being Jana, after all.
Capping the poultice and wiping off her hands, she folded things into her carryall and hooked it over her shoulder, pressing the jar of poultice into his hands with a stern, "Don't let that get infected. If you'll excuse me, Captain."
"Yes of course, thank you again, Mistress Jana," he said politely, Jaina nodding shortly before turning to Maude, who was rising to her feet and hooked an arm through hers before they headed for the door once again. Jaina heard one of the officers ask, "Shift Lead meeting cancelled then, sir?"
"Do you want to take over as Shift Lead tomorrow morning with a less than clear understanding of what all has happened today?" Captain Marghi asked.
"…I rescind my question, sir. Shift Leads! Meeting, find replacements for your current tasks!"
Muffling a snort, Jaina shook her head at Maude's curious glance as they made their way into the street. Maude hummed noncommittally, before saying mildly, "It will be interesting to see if we beat Nico to the market. He helped bring Vars in, you see, so I told him I'd give him one of my extra spice cakes as thanks."
"Maude," Jaina said flatly.
"Jana," Maude retorted, raising an eyebrow, "We were friendly acquaintances at most when you quite literally saved my life, and now that we know one another better I would like to consider you a friend. Can friends not thank each other?"
Jaina choked on her response, both because the only protest she had was being a Firestarter and because the idea of a civilian woman calling her a friend was startling. Was hopeful, in a way she hadn't realized till she'd heard Maude say it.
"Friends can thank each other," Jaina finally managed, "You already have thanked me."
"Verbally!" Maude protested, a broad smile on her face despite it, "I want to make a gesture!"
"I don't need a gesture, Maude – "
"Fine, then I'll ask around about Captain Marghi," Maude interrupted, smirking in a way Jaina was deeply suspicious of.
"Why would that be a thankful gesture?" Jaina asked. Better to know than be ambushed.
"Well it'd be a shame to try and set you up if he's already courting someone," Maude sniffed.
Jaina choked, "Maude!"
"What? You're evidently long widowed. Besides, it's that or spice-cake!" Maude threatened. Perhaps this friend thing wasn't a good idea.
"That doesn't even make sense and you know it!"
"He has notes!? Auntie Ki can I please come to Sunhame with you?"
"Your mother will murder us all, and I won't be able to blame her. No."
"Ivan, we need to get ma to agree to take us to Sunhame."
"…what's this 'we'? I'm fine with relayed stories."
A/N: Wow, I actually managed this synchronization within a couple of days of the Ao3 post! A Winter Miracle! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, thanks for reading.