- What a joke!
Kristofferson didn't feel like laughing. The last three hours had been a succession of unpleasant surprises, each worse than the previous one.
His first reaction upon discovering the identity of the traitor was surprise. But it gradually faded during the escort time to the deepest dungeon of the barracks. All of Brisingr Steadyhand's behaviours had come back to him along the way, and finally the conclusion had imposed itself.
Brother Arcturus had detoured to the temple of Sigmar, and got back with holy scrolls and wax. The Sigmarite applied to glue the parchments on the walls of the closed cell, in order to prevent the winds of magic from circulating between the four partitions.
The eldest of the Steiner siblings had gone to visit Sigmund, still behind bars. He had explained to him in a few words the result of the investigation, and the arrest of the culprit. The tall Black Skaven congratulated his brother, and asked him to convey his admiration to his twin sister.
Finally, when he got home, the brown Skaven had received some very unpleasant news. His grandfather had summarized the course of the confrontation between Bianka and Steadyhand, and the devastating way the young ratgirl had been brutally struck by the disease.
He had rushed to the blonde Skaven's room. Prior Romulus had immediately forbidden him access. Full of rage and vexed at the idea of not being able to be at his sister's side in such a moment, he had left the house and had taken refuge in the Beard of Taal, the tavern where he liked to go with his Harvesters friends. In this case, Walter and Pol, who had found him there, as well as Himmelstoss, Van Habron and Ickert, the three Black Skaven.
Sergeant Pol Demmler felt indignant when the captain of the Steinerburg guard repeated to him the details he himself had learned from the Prince.
- Bianka, an intriguer! This Elf really doesn't lack nerve!
- If he's a puppet of the Purple Hand, he'll do everything he can to divide us, Klingmann warned. So don't take what he says seriously.
He addressed the Black Guards.
- Is that understood, you guys? I have known Bianka Steiner since she was born, it is impossible, and I insist on this, that she has any project involving the end of one or other of the members of her family. Take it for granted!
The three Black Skaven nodded silently. Fat Pol was trying somehow to cheer up his friend.
- It's not your fault, nor hers! Remember when you were at Shallya temple, the other time. Your parents, your siblings, the Gottlieb Twins, Wally and I, other guys in the regiment, all wanted to see you, but they couldn't, including Bianka. She will understand.
Kristofferson took a few sips of his beer, angry against himself.
- I should have seen it coming. Always finding himself in places where he shouldn't be, and making fun of people who pointed it out to him... Eh, I can still hear him, when he annoyed my other little sister: "change can be beneficial". For a guy who worships the God of Change, that makes sense!
Walter didn't dare answer. Anger distorted his friend's face in a very disturbing way.
- Wally, I have no orders to give you, but allow me to give you some advice.
- I'm listening.
- Make sure to double guard in front of Steadyhand's cell. We never know.
- Double guard? Maybe that's inappropriate, don't you think?
- Yes, you are right, it is inappropriate. Triple guard. And try not to let Sigmund approach him, in any way!
- Do you really think he would be dumb enough to…
- I know he'll cut in two anyone who seriously insults or hurts Bianka, regardless of the consequences.
The spotted Skaven turned to his fat subordinate.
- Pol? Go spread the message.
Pol got up without a word, and quickly left the tavern. Kristofferson stood up as well.
- I can't do anything hanging around here. I'll go to Shallya temple, and pray for Bianka.
And he headed for the exit.
- Hold on!
Kristofferson turned. His heart sank when he saw the concern that plagued the captain's face.
- I'm afraid for Bianka, too. I told you, she's a bit like my sister.
- Yes, you told me.
- I… Let me accompany you, my friend.
Kristofferson felt his muzzle wrinkle, but he answered nothing. He just made a vague gesture to encourage his comrade to follow him.
A few tens of minutes later, they approached the building dedicated to the Goddess of Compassion.
- I wonder how a trial involving Verena's inquisitors goes?
- I don't know if I'm in a hurry to find out, Wally. On the one hand, I would like this matter to be settled as soon as possible, on the other hand, there is a good chance for us to be submitted "to the questioning", you and me.
- Shall we? Oh, I wouldn't worry, if I were you. What do we have to fear? We are innocent, and we have found a suspect who is on the way to being the culprit!
- I heard in the hands of an inquisitor of Sigmar, you are innocent or guilty depending on his mood.
- Right, but maybe the Vereneans are less surly? Well, what we should do is… huh?
- What?
- Look who's coming out of the temple!
The two Skaven had just recognized Sergeant Marius Weller. The Human was keeping a serious, professional look. He hadn't gone to the temple for himself, but for his work. He stretched out his arm when he saw his superior.
- O Captain! My Captain!
He trotted until he found himself in front of Klingmann.
- What's going on, Sergeant?
- Well, can you believe that we just received an… "anonymous tip".
- Did you? What kind of tip?
- A letter which gave the location of the hiding place of the murder weapon committed on the person of the Master Mage!
Kristofferson's blood boiled. He stepped forward, and had to refrain from grabbing the sergeant by the body.
- What? What did you find?
- This, Sir Kristofferson. Careful, don't touch it!
The Human took a small, thick glass bottle out of his satchel. A label stuck on it represented a skull. The liquid inside was dark red, almost brown.
- I asked one of the priestesses who concoct the medicine to name this liquid for me. She's adamant: it's Jabberwocky blood!
- Do you think it's the same bottle that was… used that evening?
- That's what the whistle-blower says. It gave the name of the person residing in the bedroom where it was hidden.
Captain Klingmann gritted his teeth and grew impatient.
- Can you tell me where you found this piece of evidence, Sergeant?
- I can, Captain. Well, I…
- Who?
The sergeant was visibly uncomfortable. A letter twirled between his fingers.
- See for yourself, Captain.
The spotted Skaven grabbed the paper and showed it to Kristofferson. Young Steiner peeked quickly through the front lines.
- Hum… It's a rather well composed poem. Once again, this is the work of an artistic and cultured author.
- The writing resembles that of the list of the Other Strygos. We'll have to check again, but it could still be Steadyhand's.
Kristofferson came to the end of the text. His face crumbled visibly.
- No… It's not true…
- Kit…
The brown Skaven looked up at the sergeant.
- And you found this vial in his bedroom?
- Affirmative, Sir Kristofferson.
The eldest Steiner sibling grimaced in pain.
- Not him!
He staggered to a bench, dropped onto the wooden planks, clutched his head in both hands, and didn't move anymore. Captain Klingmann approached the sergeant.
- Of course, you have no way of finding out who left this note?
- Negative, Captain.
- No witnesses, nothing unusual?
- A courier dropped it at the barracks, as you were not there, Lieutenant Fischer read it, and ordered me to come here, and arrest the resident of the chamber if the poison was well hidden inside.
Walter sighed wearily. He couldn't help but mutter:
- I've had it up to here. I'm sick of these fucking sectarians.
The moustachioed Human glanced over the spotted Skaven's shoulder. He tried to remain impassive, despite his compassion.
- Captain, I would understand you have difficulty apprehending this person, so close to Master Kristofferson, and perhaps to you. You want me to make the arrest?
The captain pouted in disgust.
- Proceed. Take two soldiers with you and do your duty.
- At your command, Captain.
- Take it easy, he shouldn't fight back. Stay on your guard anyway.
- I'll be careful, Captain.
- You don't have to talk about it around you, Sergeant.
- I know when I must speak and when I must remain silent, Captain.
- I'll give you a bounty. Keep that to yourself too.
- Thank you, Captain.
Weller saluted and disappeared at the sight of the two ratmen.
Everything was nothing but a huge blur. The colours blended, the sounds were drowned out by a buzzing sound, as if her ears were filled with water. And her flesh shook with nervous shivers.
From time to time, she felt a tickling on one place or another of her body. She vaguely heard her mother's voice, answered by another female voice she thought she recognized.
Finally came the moment when she felt sufficiently lucid. The world no longer revolved dizzily around her. When she heard the bell of the temple of Verena in the distance chime eight times, she knew it was time to return to the living world. She opened her eyes and tried to look around her.
The first thing she made out almost clearly was a red spot on top of a white spot. Two signs that characterized a particular person.
- Sister…Judy?
- Ah, you're back! noted the priestess.
Bianka blinked several times. She felt herself painfully, and saw that she was naked under the woollen blanket. More worrying, her fur had been shaved on certain parts of her body, in particular at the level of the shoulders and on the chest, and the areas of skin thus exposed had been covered with plasters.
As her vision was clearing, the young blonde Skaven realized she was in her own bedroom. Outside, the sun was just setting. The priestess had moved urgently with all her decoctions.
- You didn't take me to the temple?
- The less you were moved, the better it was for everyone. In addition, you will be more isolated here than in the dormitory.
- How long have I been here?
- Three hours.
Now the ratgirl could once again make out the details of her surroundings. She noticed something she had never had the opportunity to see: the rune that Sister Judy wore on her left cheek shimmered softly with a blue light.
- What I had heard is very true, you have been blessed by Shallya.
- Are you talking about my rune? It seems that it has a small beneficial effect on my patients.
- Your new patient agrees. Speaking of that… what is happening to me, Sister?
Sister Judy took her breath, and announced in a half-professional, half-reassuring tone:
- The worst is over, and you will be fine, as long as you know exactly what it is: you have contracted green pox, Bianka.
- Oh, Shallya!
- You can thank her, indeed! She has given you a constitution strong enough to enable you to resist this terrible scourge.
- I've been especially lucky to have an expert in the sciences of the treatment of diseases nearby.
- I admit that it worked a little in your favour. I was able to take care of the buboes very quickly.
- Buboes?
- You must not have noticed them because of your fur. But didn't you feel itchy?
- Not that I remember.
- So, these pustules arrived at the time when you had this crisis, probably. Or, you haven't felt anything because your mind has been too busy with serious questions these past few days. Illnesses are sneaky, they willingly attack the body when the mind is subjected to severe trials. Be that as it may, you'll excuse me for having treated you frankly. I had to trim your coat to remove the buboes and disinfect the flesh. You were very lucky on that side, too. Once the fur grows back, there will be no visible scar. Your face or hands could have been affected.
The young ratgirl tried to straighten up by leaning on her elbows.
- Everyone with whom I have been in contact must take medicine!
- We're working on it. At this time, your family has nothing, it's a chance. When in doubt, I still gave them some decoctions, just to strengthen their organism. I notified the temple of Verena.
- How have I been infected, according to you?
- Several possibilities: you've been hanging out in places with poor hygiene, you've been touched by someone who has caught it, maybe someone slipped contaminated food into your... oh. I beg your pardon, Bianka.
- Forget it, Sister. I probably have caught this crap in the Mousetrap. Among the tramps, the rotten building of the Other Strygos, the Proud Sigmarite, there were plenty of opportunities!
- From what your grandfather told me, you have struggled these last few days. Justice will take over. You don't have to think about all that anymore. On the contrary, from now, and until you recover, you stay in bed and rest. Rest, rest, that's what you need. Soup, patience, and no more headaches! I promise you everything will be fine.
The blonde Skaven smiled a little.
- You are an Angel, Sister Judy.
The priestess shrugged.
- You regularly praise me to the expecting mothers you use to send to me. As you like to recall, it was I who helped your mother give birth to you. You seriously don't think I'll let Morr take you like that, do you?
Someone knocked on the door. It was Heike, holding Isolde by her hand. The little girl threw herself on her sister's bed.
- Bianka!
- Be careful, Isolde, you mustn't brutalize your sister! urged Sister Judy with a hint of severity in her voice.
The little one moved away from the bed, but kept looking worried.
- Will you… die?
- Of course she won't! the priestess replied. She's just really sick, but if she takes nicely her medications and gets enough rest, it should be over in two weeks.
- Shallya bless you, Sister Judy, whispered Heike.
Then she addressed the High Archivist.
- Gabriel didn't dare come, but he's very worried about you.
- I know, don't worry about it.
- He asked me to tell you… well, you understand.
- Yes, Mother, no problem.
It was not necessary to recall the acute fear that the little ratboy felt in front of a sick person.
The red-haired woman put her things away, and left a small bottle on the nightstand.
- You'll take a sip of this every morning and every evening, it will help your body flush out that dirt. I have nothing more to do here, ladies, if you allow me, I will return to the temple.
- Please, my Sister, but first, go see my father in his office, he shall give you money for the temple.
The priestess was about to cross the door, when the ratmother added:
- Isolde, go with Sister Judy, I have to talk to your sister.
The little ratgirl didn't need to be asked twice, anxious to be very obedient in these difficult times. Once alone with her daughter, Heike sat down on her bed.
- Bianka, honey, I'm so sorry!
- That's all right, Mother. It would rather be up to me.
- You took enormous risks for this investigation! And Kristofferson did! But why didn't you tell me?
Bianka bit her lip.
- You shouldn't have worried more. You don't deserve everything that's happening.
- You neither. Nobody deserves it.
- I was ready to take the risk to stop this criminal, and finally, it worked.
Heike approached, and hugged Bianka to her chest.
- Honey, I'm so, so sorry! Your grandfather told me what happened in the Council Chamber. How could Brisingr tell you all those terrible things?
- This despicable Elf … a sectarian of Tzeentch, you can be sure he knows about duplicity and manipulation. Well, he's in the right place now. Behind bars!
The ratmother stood up and took a few steps into the room.
- I don't know what to think. On the one hand, I am very proud of you, because your audacity and your intelligence will allow Justice to punish the bad guys. On the other hand, I don't really like the fact you put yourself in danger like this!
- I wanted to show what I am capable of, Mother. Kristofferson and Sigmund have participated in Harvests, they have fought against Orcs and Feral Skaven, I don't want to be the dumb bunny which just encourages manly men without leaving her kitchen! I am able to get involved in the field, too!
- It's true, you are able to.
Heike sat down in an armchair.
- Me too, from time to time, I tell myself that I would like to do more.
- You already do a lot! the blonde Skaven retorted. You are our inspiration, to all! Father is no longer there. You still are. It is for you that I fight. For you, for Gab, for Soso, for Opa, and for the child you're carrying. I don't care if I'm a High Archivist or not, as long as you're there to inspire and reassure me.
Heike moved the armchair closer and gently stroked her daughter's head. Bianka wanted to broach another delicate subject:
- Mother… you and Opa… do you have wedding plans for me?
- No, her mother replied with a reassuring smile. The only person who will marry you will be the one who will make you truly happy. No law, no protocol will surpass this rule. Never.
The parquet floor in the corridor creaked under the step of a visitor who knocked on the door of Bianka's apartments. It was Prior Romulus. He walked through the office and entered the bedroom.
- My child, how do you feel?
- I have known better, Prior.
The Human addressed the cream-furred Skaven.
- Your father asked me to tell you it is time for supper, Heike. I myself will retire to the temple.
- I go. Bianka, I'll ask Magdalena to bring you a bowl of soup and a pear.
The mother took her leave. Romulus was left alone with the patient. He looked at the small bottle placed near the bed.
- I see what this medicine is for. Is it right green pox?
- Yes, but you know Sister Judy, the terror of diseases.
The prior paced up and down the room.
- I admit that I only half believed it, but I must admit that your investigative work has yielded rather impressive results.
- You'll find I'm full of surprises.
The Human stopped, and looked at the ratgirl with a sterner look.
- Don't be so careless, please. You took really, really high risks for this. You could have been captured, and reduced to the condition of a prostitute of the Proud Sigmarite.
Bianka felt her ears fall back. Annoyed, she retorted:
- Trouble didn't wait for my parents' permission to come. I defended myself, and I fought like Sigmund and Kristofferson would have done.
- Your place is not in the middle of the fight, Bianka! You're a Verenean, not a Sigmarite, and you don't have to risk your life against the Mousetrap thugs.
- The Vereneans have their own army, Prior. You're not going to tell me otherwise, are you? And I'm not talking about the priestesses of Myrmidia. And if you're referring to the Horror of Tzeentch, I still wasn't going to let that thing eat me alive in order to respect the conveniences!
- And the next time, will it be the poison, the knife under your throat or the disease which will strike you down?
Bianka then experienced a rather unpleasant sensation, like a tingling in the back.
- As much as I understand having to justify myself to my mother, you are not a person authorized to dictate my behaviour!
- I am the chaplain, I am your grandfather's adviser, I have always been at your parents' and their children's side. Also, when I learn a diligent young girl I care about is mopping in the Mousetrap, I worry.
- And you waited until I was sick in bed to give me a moral lesson? That's mean from you, Prior.
- Show a little more decency, will you? You're doing very well, considering what we're up against. I have come to ask you to do nothing more until your complete recovery. Your mother has enough reason to be afraid and sad without you adding to it.
Bianka remained silent, but the look of suspicion and anger she fixed on the priest spoke louder than a thousand words.
A noise then caught the attention of the two occupants of the room. Someone was knocking on the door of the High Archivist's quarters.
- Lady Bianka? It's Sergeant Weller.
The ratgirl was happy to hear the voice of the young Human sergeant, rather than that of another. Not only was he efficient, professional, and upright, as Walter had described him, but he also displayed an uncommon courtesy compared to the brutes that usually composed armies.
- Come in, Sergeant!
The Human was accompanied by two soldiers. He walked to the bedroom doorframe, but pointedly looked away.
- Well, come closer, Sergeant!
- The fact is...
- There is no longer any risk of contagion, as long as you don't stay too close for too long, Prior Romulus explained.
The Human began to stammer.
- Lady Bianka… I would be remiss if… I appear before you when you are not…
- Forget it, Sergeant, retorted the ratgirl with an annoyed sigh. I'm already maxed out…
Bianka realized that she was once again being a little too haughty, moreover in front of an unusually sympathetic and respectful soldier. Her heart sank. She wanted to correct things.
- Your gentlemanship honours you, Sergeant, but you have nothing to worry about. I'm under a blanket, and I imagine you wouldn't be here if it wasn't an emergency. Enter without embarrassment, please.
The sergeant made a gesture to tell the other two to stay back.
- I feel sorry for your brother, High Archivist, he is very worried about you.
- Please tell him there is nothing to worry about when you see him again. He can even come and see me for a few moments.
- I'll repeat to him your words. In the meantime, I have something to tell you, and it's not very pleasant to hear.
The high archivist sighed wearily.
- Come on… What kind of good news am I going to learn, now?
- Should I withdraw, Sergeant? The chaplain asked.
- No, Prior, I really like you stay close to the patient.
Sergeant Weller rubbed his moustache.
- A little over two hours ago, I received a letter. It was not signed, of course, but we'll make compare the writings with the documents concerning this sinister affair that we already have in our possession. Sir Kristofferson thinks it is the same handwriting the texts which you proved Steadyhand's guiltiness.
- All right… And what does this new missive say?
- Actually, High Archivist, it is a poem. I didn't memorize it, I couldn't recite it to you word for word, and Captain Klingmann kept it. But I can tell you the author was referring to a coin there. The fall of Vereinbarung will be brought about by a simple silver shilling, with two faces. According to this poem, Master Steadyhand is one of the two sides of this coin. We now know that he fulfilled his purpose the day the Master Mage… well, I that terrible day.
Sergeant Weller would not recall this tragedy too casually in Bianka's presence. The prior grew more nervous.
- Alright, what's your point then, Sergeant?
- The poem then talks about the other side of the coin. And so, another accomplice of Master Steadyhand. The verses pointed us to what we were looking for. We found the murder weapon in the bedroom of the person designated by this poetic denunciation. In this case, Jabberwocky blood, the lethal substance.
Bianka felt sweat flooding her entire coat. She shuddered, but had the energy to ask:
- I see… And in which room did you find it?
- Prior Romulus'.
Romulus' face decomposed in seconds.
- What?!
- By order of Captain Klingmann, you are under arrest, Prior. I will ask you to follow me without making a fuss.
The prior turned his head towards Bianka. The conversation that had ended with Heike's screams echoed in the high archivist's head.
- It's true, you haven't always been a Shallean… You're a criminal! At least, you were, Prior!
Romulus saw the young girl's face twist more and more under the effect of violent anger. Panicked, he stammered feverishly:
- Bianka, it's a misunderstanding! Someone will have put this vial in my cell to have me charged!
- It doesn't change your past! My mother was right, you dragged us into a nasty story that cost my father's life!
- I've done things I'm not proud of, it's true, but I swear on Shallya's bleeding heart I didn't kill Psody!
The anger of the young ratgirl doubled in intensity when she realized that the Human, instead of denying everything, had just admitted at least partially what had been reproached to him.
- And you were talking about decency two minutes ago, you hypocrite?
- Please don't force me to use violence, Prior, Weller insisted.
- It's a set-up, my child! I am not an agent of the Purple Hand!
But the fever and the rage had deprived the young girl of any possibility of thinking calmly. She sat up, the blanket slipping off and revealing her bare shoulders and chest. Furious, she cried out with the little strength she had left:
- You were my father's best friend! Damn traitor! Heretic! How could you do this to him?
Sergeant Weller handcuffed the prior, and the two men left the bedroom. Bianka cried one last time.
- Be cursed a thousand times, you monster! Let Shallya deny you! Let Morr deny you! May the Dark Gods destroy your corrupted soul!
But she couldn't finish her invective, sobs having replaced words.