Session Forty-Two - November 18, 2006

[Matt]

Larane 23, 731 TR

Around four in the morning, there was some commotion out in the abbey yard, just inside the gates. There was a banging at the door to the bishop’s hall, loud enough to wake up the whole party. The Bishop’s steward, wrapping his bedclothes about him, went to see who was at the door, who turned out to be a Laranian Inquisitor, demanding to be let in. The Inquisitor was accompanied by six thuggish looking men, possibly foul mercenaries, and a scribe.

The steward realized that there were not enough rooms for all of these visitors, and so he knocked on Sir Ewen’s door and asked if one of the party would be good enough to give up a room.

“I’m sure Sir Baris can give up his room,” Ewen said.

“What do you want me to do?” Baris said sleepily.

He suggested that Sir Baris sleep with the black knight, the young Lady Afaewynn. “That sounds good to me!” Sir Baris said, waking up a bit.

“If it must be, it must be,” the black knight said resignedly.

The Inquisitor and his many servants bedded down in Sir Baris’s former room, those servants who could not fit slept in the hall. Lady Afaewynn and Sir Baris returned to the lady’s room and prepared to sleep. “Just don’t snore,” the woman said.

A few hours later, the abbey bells called the community to prayer. The party ignored them, and slept in. At breakfast, Sir Baris asked Sir Ewen how long he expected to remain at the abbey.

“We must not prevail long on the Bishop’s hospitality. Things are getting a bit crowded here.”

“Yes, things were a bit crowded, though not unpleasantly so.”

While breaking their fast, the party overheard mumblings about the commotion in the night. The word ‘inquisitor’ was heard several times, always spoken in a low voice. The party learned that there was a meeting in the chapel, to which they were not invited. This meeting lasted about two hours. During this time, the party gathered at the cemetery, as they needed a private place to have their customary morning strategy discussion. They pretended to admire the headstones and crypts as they plotted. Lady Afaewynn was placed near the entrance of the graveyard as a lookout, and to slow any potential enemies. Much of the discussion revolved around the arrival of the Inquisitor. “Maybe we can intervene to our own benefit,” Imarë suggested.

For a time, the party discussed the previous night’s happenings. Why was the Inquisitor at the abbey? they wondered. And who sent him? It would have to be someone high up within the Laranian hierarchy. Kaelyn suggested that the Inquisitors had arrived so late in the night in order to put the abbey off balance the next day. Sir Baris suggested that they had come late because their mission was incredibly important, and time-sensitive. Imarë thought that a schism in the church might be something that important.

Cekiya spoke up. “There’s a group in the Laranian church called the Ethelanca – they ask questions. The last inquisition was the Tobran Inquisition, which occurred about a hundred years ago. They aren’t very busy bees. Bees, bzz …” The woman’s focus wandered for a moment, but Sir Ewen loudly cleared his throat, and Cekiya returned her focus to the subject at hand. “Back then, there was a four year rooting out of heresy by the holy office, mostly against the laity, resulting in over a hundred executions for heresy, witchcraft, and blasphemy. The holy office lost credibility by this overreach.” Cekiya suddenly became focused at an empty patch of ground. “Oh look, a cat!”

Sir Baris wondered how a crazy person like Cekiya was suddenly so knowledgable about the Laranian church.

Sir Ewen swiftly changed the subject and suggested that perhaps the Inquisition had waited until after the tournament to begin its mission. With so many nobles currently traveling, it was an ideal time to act without risk of interference from the secular authorities.

“Do you think these Inquisitors will cause us problems?” Kaelyn asked the party.

“Did you hear that cat?” Cekiya asked. The party saw no cat, and ignored the comment.

“We should ask around, and see if we can find out what it going on,” Ewen said. “It would not seem out of place, we are guests after all.”

“I can go ask the librarian,” Kaelyn suggested.

“Do you know where the primate of Larani in Harn lives?” Imarë asked Cekiya.

“Have we decided whether it’s a good idea to cause difficulties within the Church?” Ewen asked. “The Inquisitor may be an ally of a sort.”

Imarë said “But last time the Inquisition focused on the laity – the peasants.”

“No, the laity of Larani are not peasants. Laranianism is the faith of the upper classes – the nobles,” Ewen said. “Like Sir Baris and myself.”

At the suggestion that he followed the Laranian faith, Sir Baris gave Sir Ewen an evil look, but then smiled wryly.

Soon afterwards, the meeting in the abbey broke up. An acolyte came running up into the cemetery. “Sir Ewen, the Bishop wants to see you right away!”

“I am at the Bishop’s disposal. We will come right away,” Sir Ewen replied.

“I’m going to fall out of that tree …” Cekiya said. There were no trees around.

The acolyte started, but then said, “He awaits you in the bishops’s hall.”

“I will accompany you,” Sir Baris said. “You never know what those damn Laran-” the knight stopped speaking, catching himself.

Sirs Ewen, Baris and the Lady Afaewynn went to the bishop’s hall in silence, each lost in thought. Sir Ewen wondered what it was that the Bishop wanted, and whether the party should interfere with the inquisition, and if they did how it would affect them politically. Sir Baris thought back to Selvos, and the rack located under the Laranian temple there.

The steward, Leradas of Elen, led the party to the Bishop’s chambers. He opened the door to reveal a large, well-appointed room. There were a few chairs, a table covered with scattered papers and off to the right a curtained off area, likely a bed. The Bishop himself sat in one of the chairs.

“Ah, Sir Ewen, come in,” the man said. “May I offer you something to drink?”

Ewen nodded. The steward poured some wine, and passed it to Sir Ewen. “You are kind.”

“I must ask you for help. I know it is bad form, but I have no other choice. As you have no doubt learned, an Inquisitor has come to this abbey. He comes under the authority of both the Primate and the Archbishop of Kaldor. He is to examine and seek out heresy that is thought to have taken root in this abbey. By which he means me.”

“And the reason for this my lord?” Ewen asked.

“My disagreement with the church over theology. You may not know this, but Abriel Abbey is considered to be a stepping stone to the archbishopric. I don’t think the Archbishop wants my particular views preached from such a high position, as they would be, if I succeeded him. But I did not think he would take such steps. I can do nothing more than protest, which I have already done, no doubt in vain. Nor can I trust, and it pains me to say this, the members of the Order of the Lady of Paladins to protect this abbey and myself. I do not like this Inquisitor – he seems a hard man. I would ask you, Ewen, to tarry here perhaps longer than you had hoped. I may have need of a less reluctant warrior.”

Ewen slowly smiled. “As my lord Bishop wishes. I find your abbey interesting.”

“I will not forget this favor, Sir Ewen, and should it remain in my power, I will repay it, if I can. I have given orders to my steward that you and your are to be treated as a personal entourage of my own. At the moment, I don’t think anything can be done, except to wait. The Inquisitor is compiling lists of members of the abbey he wishes to question.”

“Will myself or my retinue be on these lists?” Sir Ewen asked.

“I do not think so,” the Bishop said. “You are but guests.” He paused. “Sir Golian, strangely enough, was the first put on the list.”

“Has this Inquisitor displaced you from your position here?” Ewen asked.

“No, he does not have that power. He may eventually question me, and eventually I may end up elsewhere,” the Bishop replied.

“I meant physically displacing you, my lord. Has he moved into your offices?”

“He has moved out of the bishop’s hall, and taken over the chapel for the inquisitorial sessions.” The Bishop muttered something about “desecration.”

“Perhaps my lord Bishop, if the opportunity presents, I will wait upon you later this afternoon?” Ewen asked.

“You may ask my steward. I will be attending the sessions, as is my right. At least, for now.”

Afterwards, Sir Ewen told the party about the details of the conversation.

“Do you know if this reluctant warrior idea is an old position of the Church?” Kaelyn asked. “If it’s an old position, it can’t be considered heresy.”

Cekiya spoke up, saying, “The reluctant warrior has always been a minority view, but is growing because of the Bishop’s action. He is the highest official to hold these beliefs. His particular view is more recent.”

“What does the Bishop want you three knights to do?” Kaelyn asked.

“Physical protection,” Sir Ewen replied.

“Look, if it comes to fighting some Laranian priests, I don’t have a problem with that,” Sir Baris said.

“Don’t you think that an Inquisitor with the backing of the church would have come with members of the Order of the Lady of Paladins and other warriors of the church, and not thugs?” Imarë wondered.

“Maybe he brought them to do things the Order of the Lady of Paladins wouldn’t want to do – like kill the Bishop,” Sir Baris mused.

“Or maybe they are investigating the Order of the Lady of Paladins as well,” Sir Ewen said. “After all, the Order of the Lady of Paladins leader here is the first on the list to be questioned. It seems to rule out the idea that the Order of the Lady of Paladins here called in the Inquisitors.”

Kaelyn wisely suggested that the thugs were brought to keep the Order of the Lady of Paladin’s hands clean in the killing of the Bishop. The act could be blamed on secular people.

“If you are an Inquisitor coming from the archbishop and primate, if you bring along the Order of the Lady of Paladins, that implies an alliance,” Sir Ewen said. “For an Inquisitor to be truly independent, he cannot rely on the Order of the Lady of Paladins. He shouldn’t come in with anyone in one of the Laranian factions. If I was an Inquisitor, I’d come with mercenaries – any Laranian is fair game. He just needs someone for his protection. On another topic,” Sir Ewen continued, “when I was meeting with the Bishop, I was wondering if we should let Cekiya into the abbey to help out with refreshments and whatnot, posing as a serving maid.”

“Do you think she can pull it off?” Kaelyn asked.

“Do you need some of the numbers lowered on the thugs? Maybe you only need five, or four?” Cekiya asked.

“Are you suggesting that you make the thugs disappear one by one?” Ewen asked Cekiya.

“They might just vanish – no body to be found. Just a thought.”

“What would be the point of having Cekiya in there?” Sir Baris asked.

“As a spy,” Ewen replied. Baris nodded at the wisdom of this suggestion.

“She would make a good spy if she was hidden,” Kaelyn said.

Ewen suggested that Cekiya could steal some notes. The party decided against this plan, however, and the culling of the thugs.

“I wonder where the King stands on these theological matters?” Ewen wondered. “He would not like to have fighting men in the kingdom ‘reluctant,’ assuming they were on his side. Maybe the King whispered in the Archbishop’s ear.”

Sir Baris suggested the party wait and learn more of the inquisition, before deciding what to do.

“Do you know who would succeed the Bishop at the abbey?” Ewen asked Cekiya.

Cekiya said that the Archbishop appointed, and the King approved, new bishops. But she did not know who the next one would be.

“The Earl of Balim may have regular influence amongst the Laranian hierarchy,” Ewen said. “But the Bishop here is not under Balim’s influence. This might be a move by the Earl to consolidate his influence over the Laranian episcopacy. It makes you wonder where those thugs came from.” He turned to Kaelyn. “Kaelyn, maybe you can go back to the library and get something out of your contacts there.”

“What should I try to learn?” the woman asked. “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

“Find out what the librarian is thinking. She might know what kind of accent the thugs have.”

“She’s a librarian, not a linguist.”

“If you are hiring a thug, it doesn’t matter where he’s from.”

The party broke up to go about their various tasks.

Kaelyn went to the library to find out more about the Laranian church. She learned that in the last 150 years, there have been eight Bishops of Nurez, and four have gone on to be archbishop. Two of the eight died when there was not an opening. So four out of five times when the archbishopric was open, it was filled with a bishop from Nurez. The current Archbishop was once Bishop of Nurez.

Imarë and Cekiya wandered about the abbey until later in the day.

The knights waited for the inquisition to end, and the Bishop to return. Eventually, Imarë, Cekiya, and Kaelyn returned.

Around six o’clock, dinner was brought by the servants under the direction of the steward. By eight, the Bishop had still not returned. Sir Baris suggested sending Cekiya to investigate.

“Well, we have free reign of the abbey,” Ewen said. “Why don’t you and I go to the chapel, and see what is going on. Cekiya can approach more circuitously – a pincer movement.”

Sir Baris asked Cekiya if she was skilled with distance weapons.

“If I must, I can use them – but touching is not always bad,” the woman replied.

Sirs Ewen and Baris, Lady Afaewynn and Cekiya headed to the chapel. It was decided that Cekiya would enter through the refectory entrance, the rest of the group through the main entrance. The main entrance was closed and barred, as was the door to the refectory. Cekiya took out a knife and lifted the interior latch at a nearby window, and climbed inside, where some acolytes were surprised to see a small woman coming in through the window. “You could have knocked!” they said.

“What fun would that be?” she replied, and proceeded to ignore them as she walked past, heading through the door to the chapel. She went down the hallway, passing some smaller chapels, and found the door to the main chapel closed and barred.

Meanwhile, back at the main entrance, the knights decided to investigate the servants’ entrance. They found that door locked, and heard no sounds from the other side.

Inside the abbey, Cekiya studied the door to the chapel proper, and decided that she could not get in as easily as she had through the window. She thought to herself ‘If I could get to the gallery above the chapel, I might be able to see what is going on.’ With a plan in mind, she returned to the refectory, and the acolytes started as she passed them again. Continuing to ignore them, Cekiya passed through to kitchen, and found a spiral staircase that led upwards and downwards. She headed up the stairs, coming upon a small corridor. To her left was a scriptorium. In the far corner of the scriptorium, just barely out of her peripheral vision, Cekiya saw an acolyte or priest toiling away at a desk with just a stub of a candle providing light. To her right there was a doorway, and a corridor headed directly north before her. Eventually she found herself before a door she thought led to the chapel. It was locked.

The knights, meanwhile, decided to knock on the door to the refectory. “Who is there?” an acolyte asked through the door.

“Sir Ewen of Ravinargh,” the knight replied. The door opened. “Come in, Sir Ewen,” the acolyte said.

“I am looking for his lordship the Bishop, I have been waiting on him for several hours.”

“They are still in the chapel, sir. They toil into the night – some have been taken downstairs.”

Sir Baris shivered, scenes of the rack going between his eyes. He attempted to get some further information out of the acolyte, with no success.

Sir Ewen requested to be informed when the Bishop was available, and the acolyte said he would do so. The knights returned to their quarters.

Meanwhile, Cekiya returned to the lone scribbler in the scriptorium. She was almost on top of him, emerging wraith-like from the darkness of the room, when he noticed her. The scribe started, knocked over his ink, before he realized the figure was a small woman. Embarrassed, he began cleaning up, saying, “I didn’t see you there! Who are you; why are you here?”

“I need to get into the chapel. Can you let me in?” Cekiya asked.

“The chapel is closed, why would you want to get in there?”

“I need to. I am the Bishop’s guard.”

“The Bishop doesn’t have a guard.” the scribe replied.

“I need to get into the chapel,” Cekiya repeated.

“You have spoiled my manuscript, and are wasting my time, go away little girl!” the man said, his confidence and anger rising.

“I need to get into the chapel, don’t stop me,” Cekiya said forcefully.

“Or what?” the scribe asked imperiously.

“Don’t ask questions; questions are bad.”

“Off with you!” the man repeated.

At this point, Cekiya moved very close to the scribe. “What is going on?” he asked. The young woman grabbed his arm, pulled it behind his back, and was in the process of breaking it when she said, “Would you like me to ruin something else?”

The scribe grunted in pain and said, “I’ll get the key, but the Bishop will hear of this …”

Once inside the gallery, Cekiya took the time to look around. The gallery did not go straight across the room, but around the balcony. On the far side, there was a statue in oak of a centaur, and on the west wall there was a masterwork painting depicting a young squire. In the middle of the wall a jeweled broadsword hung from two silver hooks on an iron placard. The sword itself was somewhat stylized, and did not look like a weapon of war. Along the wall there was also a castle in glass – a traditional representation of Dolithor – Larani’s castle. The last item on the gallery was a wooden wine rack, containing a single bottle of wine. Directly to Cekiya’s right was the winch that secured the great chandelier, which hung directly above where the pews would be. From below, she could hear voices.

Not surprisingly, some sort of questioning was going on during this inquisition. In a strong voice the questioner (Cekiya could not see who was speaking) asked variously about the Reluctant Way and other sins. The questioned, spoke tremulously in a small female voice. Every so often, a third voice (possibly the Serolan or the Bishop) tried to intercede, but not successfully. Cekiya decided that her mission was to keep the Bishop safe. She stealthily crept to the edge of the gallery. From this vantage point she saw the Bishop and the Serolan, who were apparently unharmed. The pews had been moved up against the western wall. A stool had been placed in the center of chapel, where the pews were normally. The Inquisitor stalked around this stool as he asked his questions. ‘If I lowered the chandelier, it would crush the woman being questioned,’ Cekiya thought. ‘We don’t want that.’

Cekiya heard that the Inquisitor’s name was Tushro. He eventually finished questioned the matakea, Salwene of Kailis. “There is more than enough evidence here to warrant further questioning. She will be held.” One of the thugs came out from under the balcony, and took the weeping woman off to the west. “Who’s next?” the Inquisitor asked the scribe.

The Bishop begged the Inquisitor to adjourn, so they could set the room up for services in the morning. The Inquisitor cocked his head and said “Very well. We shall reconvene in the morning, after first prayers.” The Bishop turned away. “And Bishop, I will be counting heads in the morning.” Cekiya heard people beginning to file out.

Several of the masters came up through the gallery, but Cekiya slipped under the winch to hide. After they passed by, she checked to make sure there was no one left into the chapel. She saw some acolytes putting things back into place. It happened that these were the same acolytes who from the refectory. When they saw Cekiya come through later, they rolled their eyes and ignored her. She crept down the stairs to the dungeon, and through the door, heard the distinct sound of weeping. She left the building.

The Bishop returned to where the party, sans Cekiya, was waiting. “Blessings of the goddess be upon you.”

“We had worried you would not return,” Sir Ewen said.

“That was an extremely long session. I hope one of you will accompany me tomorrow.”

“I will be there,” Sir Ewen said.

“Good. Now, if you excuse me, I will retire to pray and sleep – I’m exhausted.”

About ten minutes later, Cekiya returned. She succinctly and coherently explained what she had observed.

“Were the Order of the Lady of Paladins in evidence?” Imarë asked.

“No, they were not. There were some lights coming out of the chapterhouse, however,” Cekiya replied.

After further discussion, it was decided that the three knights would go to help guard the Bishop on the morrow. There was also some discussion about the tactics of what armor to wear. Sir Baris decided to wear his surcoat over his breastplate. Then he returned to his own room, as the Inquisitor’s party had taken over other rooms in the abbey. This made him a little sad, but the development had the opposite effect upon Lady Afaewynn. That night, Imarë patrolled the abbey, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Larane 24, 731 TR

The knights attended morning prayers. Afterwards, they broke their fast with the Bishop. Two items worked their way up the chain of command to the Bishop – both about Cekiya. None had him concerned. He spoke to Sirs Ewen and Baris, “I understand one of your servants infiltrated the abbey, and observed the proceedings. Well done. As to the other, I see that as no problem. An excellent, one might even say reluctant use of force. I wish my own acolytes had such a knowledge of the judicious use of violence.”

After breakfast, the knights entered the chapel with the Bishop. The thugs attempted to keep them out, but at a word from the Bishop, they were allowed in. The knights noted that not all of the thugs were present – one was missing. The chapel had been set up as it was the night before, with the pews pushed off to the side and the stool in the center of the room. Cekiya stealthily took her place in the gallery.

The scribe arrived, and took his seat. He was pale of skin, pale of eye, a few wisps of hair around his pate. He was not exactly an attractive man – and he could do with a bath, Baris thought to himself, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

The Inquisitor arrived. He was a wispy looking man, but very neat of his person, the knights noted. He had the aspect of detail and neatness. He noticed the knights. “My lord Bishop, are these proceedings now for outsiders?”

“No more outsiders than your guards,” the Bishop replied.

“They are outsiders, and have no place here!” the Inquisitor said forcefully.

“Nevertheless, I have asked them here. Do you object?” the Bishop asked.

“No, we shall proceed. Torwas! Who is next on the list?”

The scribe took some time searching the list. “Gris, Gris of Tande,” he replied eventually.

Gris of Tande turned out to be a woman in her sixties, who was clearly ill. She walked, aided by a cane, up to the stool. Her heavy breathing echoed in the silent chamber. Clearly she was suffering from some sort of pneumatic condition.

The Inquisitor dove in, asking questions sharp and fast. The woman barely had time to answer. At one point, she had a coughing fit, accompanied by shortness of breath and troubled breathing. The Bishop asked the Inquisitor to let her continue later. “Heresy takes no holiday!” the man yelled. Throughout the questioning, the scribe scribbled away. This went on for an hour. Afterwards, the Inquisitor said “There is more than enough evidence of heresy here. She is obviously a heretic.” The man had a zealous gleam in his eye. Those members of the party present realized that the man had clearly not made his case. “There is no further need to question her further. I am not surprised to find heresy here. Questioning will be continued, and will have to be expanded. Take this filth away, and throw her in the cells!”

One of the thugs came over, grabbed the old woman by the arm, and dragged her off, without the aid of her cane. One of the other priests seized the cane and gave it to her. As she got to the door, she coughed and breathed with difficulty, eventually passing out. The thug carried the poor woman down to the cells, doubtless to be tortured later. Sir Ewen glanced at the Inquisitor, and noticed a small, evil smile on his face. He seemed to be enjoying the woman’s pain.

Things went on in this way for the rest of the afternoon. Almost everyone was clearly guilty of heresy of one degree or another. A younger matakea, in her young twenties, Kerthede of Abar was the one person to be set free. “At least the younger members of this abbey seem untainted,” the Inquisitor remarked as the woman left.

Each session took about an hour. From the questions, it did not appear that the Inquisitor had an outside source of information. He merely asked each of a set of questions over and over until he got the right answer, before moving on to the next question. From overheard conversation, the party got the impression that the Inquisitor had gone through the Order of the Lady of Paladins members quickly. Two had been released, although the leader was not among these lucky few. The matakeas had been incarcerated on a 9/10 ratio. Only a handful had been declared outright guilty. Tomorrow the Inquisitor would start on the masters – and the real questioning would begin.

Meanwhile, Imarë went into the village. There was a miller, a timberwright, a Peonian priest, and a two-story inn. The rest of the town was made up of freehold farmers or serfs. Imarë went into the inn for a drink. Inside, there were some red tapestries, and the benches resembled pews. One of the tapestries was a winged lion, and the floor was well-crafted flagstones. This building may have been the original abbey. At that hour, there were no patrons but Imarë. A serving woman in her thirties, attractive in her way, approached the elf. “Nice décor you have here,” the elf said.

“Well, we like it. Used to be a temple,” the serving woman replied.

“I never would have guessed it.”

“Really? Most people guess it right off.” Attractive, but not that swift.

After bringing Imarë a drink, the woman went off to sweep.

“How are things going here?”

The woman came over. “Are you talking to me?”

“I thought I would,” Imarë said.

“They go well,” the serving woman replied.

“There is some sort of investigation going on at the abbey.” Imarë said.

“Hm. First I heard of it.”

The two chattered on like this for awhile.

Towards the middle of the day, some people bought food from the inn and left. Business was very slow. There did not appear to be a single guest.

Back at the abbey, the party, sans Imarë, discussed what to do for a time. It was finally decided to speak with the Bishop before making further plans.

The knights, Cekiya, Imarë and Kaelyn attended dinner in the abbey hall. The Inquisitor and his lackeys ate elsewhere, finished for the day. After evening prayers, Sirs Ewen and Baris met with the Bishop for a private meeting. He spoke to the pair for a time about the various relics on the gallery. The two knights listened politely, not very interested. Apparently, the bottle of wine was actually drunk every year at the feast of St. Ambrathas. Eventually discussion turned to the matter at hand. The Bishop lamented the days proceedings, and he was heavy of spirit.

“A bad business indeed, my lord.” Ewen said. “I confess, it seems a surfeit of bullying old women.”

“The news there is even worse,” the Bishop said. “I received word that she succumbed to her illness not long after being taken from the chapel.”

“The blessings of the lady upon her.” Ewen said respectfully.

“I have said many prayers for her.” The Bishop paused, a pained look on his face. “She will be buried tomorrow. I hope she is the only one. I sent the two members of the Order of the Lady of Paladins who were acquitted away – one to the King, in Tashal and one to the Archbishop in Caleme. I have asked the Archbishop to come and oversee these proceedings in person. I don’t believe he will, but it is something. As to the King, I feel that he should know, because he it is right he does. If the sheriff were still here, he would have come and observed. But there is no sheriff now, and I am loathe to put faith in an untried prince.”

“What can you tell me of this Inquisitor?” Ewen asked.

“I haven’t met him before,” the Bishop replied. “But my assistant, the matakea Gwain, she is from Melderyn originally. She knew this Brinsa of Tushro, the Inquisitor, in Thay. She says the man is changed. She says he was not such a zealot in those days. But she has not seem him in several years, and people do change. The goddess may have touched him in ways we cannot imagine. I am at a loss at what to do. I had no expectation, even yesterday, that this would take such a turn. It seems he will torture confessions out of my people.”

“It seems his mind is made up,” Ewen said.

“Yes, it does,” the Bishop said. “And I have no allies in the faith. I have two options – I can be a martyr for the faith. Or I can abjure myself. I have the faith of martyrdom. But I can’t make that decision for my people. I should have turned the Inquisitor away when he first came, but now I cannot.”

“My lord, is the Inquisitor’s retinue the same as may be expected in such things?” Ewen asked.

“You mean that they are brutish men who enjoy their work? Yes.”

“Bishop, what would you have us do?” Sir Baris asked.

“I tell you truly, Sir Baris, yesterday I thought it was necessary to see that the proceedings did not get out of hand. But they got out of hand so quickly, that I don’t know what I would ask you do – I don’t want you to put your head on the block”

“What do you mean by that?” Sir Baris asked.

“I fear if you get too much more involved, the Inquisitor will question you. I see you Sir Baris, and I know what choice you would make.”

Sir Baris laughed evilly.

“I would release you from your favor,” the Bishop said.

“I would not so quickly. If I could ask an impertinent question?” Sir Ewen asked.

“You could not ask a more impertinent question than the Inquisitor”

“Who do you think will replace you?” Ewen asked.

“I cannot say specifically, Sir Ewen,” the Bishop replied. “I have a suspicion that it may just possibly be one of the current rekela of the kingdom.”

“In an effort to position them to succeed the Archbishop in the future?”

“Combining the offices and increasing the power of a certain family. And the Bishop of Serelynd, who has been quite close to the Earl of Balim, has been quite sick, and is not expected to last long. The King and his advisors would have a say.”

“Do you think this is being done at this time because it wouldn’t be popular if it was known publicly?” Sir Baris asked.

The Bishop did not know, but said that he was surprised when the Inquisitor arrived.

“Given your views, how did you my lord Bishop gain this appointment?” Ewen asked.

The Bishop explained that he embraced the reluctant way only after being appointed. “I was reading holy scripture, and I read the passage, ‘And the bishop took the sword from the ever-eager warrior, staying him with his hand saying, “Has thou not seen enough bloodshed to repent your ways and seek enlightenment in the Reluctant Way? To feel life instead of death, to give instead of take, is this not the path to follow? I sayest true when my hands will not wield the weapons you think you can not live without.” And the bishop walked towards the cliff of Abriel and threw the cold steel into the stream below. The warrior saw then what the servant of the divine meant and wept for many hours asking his goddess for forgiveness, remembering the tale of the Lady of Reluctance.’ I have inscribed those words in my own breviary, so that I may always think on them.”

“What would you have us do if it comes to blows? What are the rules of engagement?” Sir Baris asked, turning back to the subject he was most familiar with – violence.

“For me, Sir Baris, I no longer fear this Inquisitor. For my people, for my flock, for them I would ask protection,” the Bishop replied.

“What about those who are currently imprisoned?” Sir Baris asked.

“I believe they will be freed.” the Bishop said.

“If more people are taken down, should we stop that?” Baris asked.

“We cannot go against the duly appointed Inquisitor. I have informed the Archbishop. I do not think he will take his personal vendetta against me to such lengths.”

“Do you think the vendetta against you will be conducted in a discreet manner?” Ewen asked. “It seems the Inquisitor is determined to indict as many of your flock as he can. Few will escape his wrath.”

“It is my belief that when this inquisition began, it was a warning to me,” the Bishop said. “Now I can see it is a full attack on my teaching of the reluctant way. I believe now it is an attempt to force me out of this position, and that by accusing and imprisoning as many at Abriel as possible, it is simply an attempt to pressure me to resign. This I will not do; I will be martyred or I will abjure, but I will not resign.”

“It seems to me that the Inquisitor intended to do this while we were here,” Ewen said.

“No, my invitation was a whim.”

“My intention since winning the honor of winning the tournament, is to go on a public tour of Kaldor. I wonder how the Archbishop would feel if someone with my newfound status, if I may be crude, was parading about the kingdom as a witness to this situation. I wonder if it would give him pause.”

“I do think it would give him pause. However I do not think it will slow the Inquisitor would be given pause – he seems to enjoy his work to an unseemly degree.”

“My feeling as well, my lord, he is not a good man,” Ewen said.

“He is not reluctant at all.”

“The Archbishop should be aware of this,” said Ewen.

“That is why I sent Sir Natus of Tardally to Caleme.”

After the meeting with the Bishop, the whole party gathered and discussed various plans.

It seemed that the Bishop wanted the Inquisitor to die, but didn’t want to order it. Several plans were trotted out:

Various forms of overt and covert violence against he Inquisitor. Baris suggested provoking the Inquisitor, and then when questioned start hacking. Ewen suggested having himself come out as a follower of the reluctant way. The Bishop doesn’t legally have authority over him, and so maybe the Inquisitor would pause and have to go back and get further instructions.

It was also suggested that the party accuse the Inquisitor of heresy. However, this plan was unworkable because it would take too long, and the Bishop would not like it.

A plan of placing the Inquisitor under the chandelier was also discussed.

Sir Ewen suggested killing the Inquisitor and his retinue in the night, and making it look like they had left without telling anyone – a mystery to all.

Kaelyn asked the steward about where the Inquisitor was staying. She learned that the Inquisitor had taken over a room on the 3rd floor of the abbey. This was the corner room where the master of acolytes is normally quartered. She also learned that the Inquisitor’s guards slept in the hallway outside. Unfortunately, there were no windows, and no fireplace.

After much discussion, the party decided to go take out the Inquisitor. The plan was for Cekiya to scout ahead, while the rest of the party would wait in the refectory, ready to support.

The party went to the refectory, and knocked on the door. A servant answered, and the party went in, saying they wanted food. As the servant was gathering the food, Cekiya surreptitiously slipped out of the kitchen and up the stairs, humming a little tune. At the top of the stairs, she heard snoring to her left, from at least two individuals. She poked her head out of the staircase and saw a door immediately to the right, about ten feet down. Sitting next to the door, in a chair, was one of the thugs. He was awake, unfortunately, but fortunately he did not see Cekiya.

Cekiya snuck around the corner towards the snoring. She saw two thugs on the top and bottom bunks of a bed in the hall, asleep in their armor. Moving carefully, she snuck up and slit the throat of the thug on the bottom bunk, narrowly avoiding the spurt of blood upwards. She then climbed to the top bunk, but unfortunately at that point the guard had shifted in his sleep to lay on his belly, making his neck less easily accessible. Cekiya gently stroked his throat with her finger. The thug smiled in his sleep, saying, “Mmm … Hey baby …” He shifted again, exposing his neck. Whispering sweet nothings in the thug’s ear, Cekiya slit his throat.

Cekiya then dropped to the floor silently. She heard the guard by the door get up and head towards the bunks. Apparently he had noted the lack of snoring, and came up, drawing his weapon. Cekiya hid beside the door. She saw his blade, and then stepped outside the door, to keep the guard from seeing the blood in the room. “Who are you?” the guard said.

“Where am I?” Cekiya said innocently.

“What do you mean? What are you doing here?” the guard asked.

“I’m looking for Gris -” Cekiya said.

“Gris is dead!” the guard said.

“But, how, what?” Cekiya said.

“Go downstairs wench!”

Cekiya headed down the stairs, but soon heard from above the guard yelling, “ALARM! ALARM!” as he discovered the bodies.

Downstairs, Ewen thought he heard yelling. “I think I hear someone saying alarm above.” Sir Baris drew his axe and ran up the stairs. The rest of the party followed shortly thereafter.

Meanwhile, above, the guard caught up with Cekiya and attacked. “There you are you BITCH!” Cekiya dodged out of the way and his sword clanged against the stone wall. Grasping her dagger, she stabbed upwards at the guard, the dagger imbedding itself in his groin. He screamed and fell, taking Cekiya’s dagger with him, but she deftly dodged the falling body. Unfortunately, she heard another guard coming down the stairs. Quickly drawing another dagger, Cekiya struck this new guard, striking his foot. At this point, she was surrounded, one guard on each side of her on the narrow stairway. Fortunately, one was paying more attention to his crotch than anything else at the moment. Cekiya focused on the more immediate threat and knocked the falchion out of the hand of the guard on the stairs above her. He began backed away up the stairs. Cekiya, a bit unbalanced, was unable to follow for a moment. Gaining her feet, however, she suddenly sprung upon. “Mercy, Mercy!” he cried.

At that moment, Sir Baris came upon the guard lower on the stairs, who was busily trying to extract Cekiya’s dagger from his crotch. The knight ended the thugs misery with a swift and brutal blow from his axe.

Cekiya now had a prisoner. Ewen went forward on the staircase. “Kill him,” the knight muttered to Cekiya. The woman drove her dagger into the guards’ gut, and that was the end of the prisoner’s dilemma.

Sir Baris checked the room immediately to the left of the stairwell and past the bunk beds. Inside were a bunch of bunk beds and frightened acolytes. “Be quiet, stay in here, it will all be over soon. I am a knight, I will protect you.” He rushed over to the rest of the party, who were by this time waiting by the door with the chair. It was locked. “Can you kick this door in?”

“Sure,” Baris said, and kicked the door. For a second, it looked it might hold, but then it gave way, slamming back the wrong way for its hinges – breaking. Inside was an empty room with an open chest. The bed did not appear slept in.

The other door on the floor opened onto a small roof deck overlooking the courtyard, on which was a kneeler and a statute to Larani. Sir Baris ran out, but did not see anyone down in the courtyard, nor did he hear anything.

The party looked at each other, horror on their faces. Where was the Inquisitor?