Chapter 15: Stirring Conflict

Chapter 15: Stirring the Pot

This was Lyman's second time in the Inquisitor's office. As before, Aether sat behind his desk, with the "Mouth of Truth" sitting beside him.

Nashel was absent, which was good news for Lyman. Yesterday, the Red-Haired Inquisitor had played peacemaker. If he blocked Aether from confronting Captain Prew, Lyman's plan would fail.

Deputy Captain Edton showed him in, saluted, and left, making sure to close the door behind him.

Lyman put on his "Masterful Acting" to look nervous and heartbroken. If he squeezed his eyes hard enough, he might even squeeze out a few tears.

"I heard you wanted to see me. Have a seat." Aether studied Lyman, his tone clearly confused. "Why the long face? Has someone been bullying you?"

Lyman sat down, nervous, and took a deep breath: "It's not me, sir. It's my work partner, Eric Mavo."

When he heard the surname "Mavo," Aether tensed up. Lyman caught that. He clearly knew Eric, or at least the name.

Come to think of it, yesterday Captain Prew had also called Eric "young Master Mavo." Did they know each other?

"Mavo... What happened to that prisoner named Eric?" A hint of concern flickered in Aether's eyes.

"He's hurt, sir. Captain Prew beat him."

Lyman retold everything that happened in the office yesterday, adding some embellishments, making sure to hint that Captain Prew had taken his anger out on the poor kid because of the humiliation he'd suffered from them. The Inquisitor was the one who started it all.

His plan worked. Aether was clearly uncomfortable.

"I never thought Captain Prew would lay a hand on a prisoner, let alone a kid! Is there no discipline or order left in this prison at all?"

Aether slammed his fist on the desk so hard the "Mouth of Truth" jumped.

Lyman pretended to be startled and said quickly: "Your Honor, please don't be angry! I'm not here to tattle or anything. I just wanted to ask if Eric could see a doctor. I heard the prison doc only sees the guards, but Eric is so badly hurt, I'm afraid..."

Aether waved his hand, looking annoyed: "That's a given. I'll write a note, and you can have Deputy Captain Edton take him."

He pulled a sheet from the stack of paper on his desk, dipped his quill in ink, and scribbled a few lines with a flourish. Then he sprinkled sand on it to soak up the extra ink, shook it off, and handed it to Lyman.

"Thank you so much! This'll save Eric!"

Lyman stood up, about to leave, then turned back and asked: "By the way, sir, there's something I'm curious about, but I'm not sure I should ask."

"What is it?"

"Do you know Eric?"

Aether's face stiffened for a moment, then he nodded: "You're not part of the church's inner circle, so you probably don't know. Eric's uncle is the former Archbishop. He was a kind, upright man who loosened the admission requirements for the Seminary. Otherwise, a commoner like me would never have had a shot at becoming an Inquisitor."

So that was it. Archbishop Mavo was, in a way, Aether's benefactor. If his nephew was being wronged, Aether couldn't just stand by.

Lyman, eager to stoke the fire, prodded: "How'd the Archbishop's nephew end up in prison? And how dare Captain Prew lay a hand on him?"

"That's because..."

Aether pursed his lips. "That's not for you to know. You can go."

Lyman bowed and handed the note to Deputy Captain Edton, who was waiting by the door. Edton read it and raised an eyebrow.

"Prisoner 1154, you're something else! Alright, go take your little buddy to the infirmary!"

Lyman headed back to the square, where Eric and the scholar were waiting anxiously. When they saw him, the two hurried over.

"The Inquisitor didn't give you any trouble, did he?" the scholar asked.

"Nah, I went to get this." Lyman waved the note at them. "The Inquisitor said you can go to the infirmary. Let's go."

The boy's eyes went wide in disbelief: "Really?"

"Of course! It's in black and white!"

Eric stood frozen, like he couldn't believe such good luck had come his way. Lyman grabbed the boy's wrist but had no idea where the infirmary was. The scholar pointed the way eagerly: "This way!"

With the Inquisitor's permission, they got through without any trouble, and even the guards watching them work had nothing to say.

The infirmary was behind the prison's main building, near the outer wall. It was a standalone two-story cottage with colorful plants out front, which Lyman figured were medicinal herbs.

The doctor was bald with a big beard. He was surprised to see the Inquisitor's note, but he didn't say anything—just took out clean cloth strips and started cleaning and bandaging Eric's wounds.

Luckily, this doctor wasn't like Lyman's stereotypical medieval physician—he didn't just bleed people. Otherwise, Lyman would've grabbed Eric and run.

The bandaging was done quickly, and the doctor gave Eric some medicine. The boy's color visibly improved.

One of Lyman's goals was done. Now it was up to Aether and Prew to see how far they'd take things.

Lyman headed back to the square, with the scholar helping Eric along behind him. Their job for the day was to keep building the wall. Even though he was hurt, Eric kept busy running back and forth. After all, the workload was for three people—if he did less, the others would have to pick up the slack. He didn't want to be a burden to his partners.

In the afternoon, the prison gates slowly opened, and more than a dozen riders rode into the square. They all wore guard uniforms, and the fanciest dressed was definitely Captain Prew.

Behind them came several guards on foot, each carrying or hauling game: pheasants, hares, a snake chopped in half, and one guy carrying a bear cub.

Captain Prew got off his horse and tossed the reins to his subordinate.

"Captain, back so early?" a subordinate buttered him up.

Captain Prew puffed up his chest: "I was planning to stay overnight, but I bagged plenty of game as soon as I hit the forest—even a bear cub. Good haul, so I headed back early."

"Your hunting skills are amazing!"

Captain Prew carried his crossbow toward the tower but suddenly stopped dead.

A figure came down from the tower, his white robe glowing in the setting sun.

Inquisitor Aether came over with a grim face, one hand on his sword hilt, his blue eyes stormy like the sea before a tempest.

"Captain Prew." He gritted his teeth. "Gone all day, and here you are hunting. What a fine pastime!"

Prew looked up to meet the Inquisitor's gaze, and the flesh on his face twisted into a smile like some strange force was pulling it.

"I was just getting a welcome feast ready for you, Your Honor." He shrugged. "Cape Prison's a small place with rough conditions, but you two are big shots from the Holy City—I couldn't let you suffer. So I went out to hunt some game."

Aether's eyes grew even darker.

The square was full of prisoners and guards who'd been watching the commotion, but now they all threw themselves into their work like never before. Prisoners worked hard, guards did their jobs—a picture of bustling productivity, like nobody noticed the tension at all.

"I heard you hit a prisoner."

"Oh? Is that so?" Captain Prew said, brushing it off.

"It was Eric Mavo." Aether tightened his grip on his sword. "Got an explanation?"

Captain Prew spread his hands: "Don't go throwing accusations around, Your Honor. Who actually saw me hit that kid? And speaking of which, Mavo's family's a criminal. You seem pretty concerned about him—got some connection to that criminal ex-Archbishop?"

"Playing dumb won't do you any good." Aether said sternly. "I'm not just responsible for hunting down heretics—I'm also duty-bound to keep order inside the Church. I'll be reporting your actions at Cape Prison to the Tribunal, and I'll tell them exactly what happened. And as you well know, as a Senior Inquisitor, I have the right to petition the Holy See directly."

Captain Prey's face went pale, all his earlier composure gone in an instant. Veins bulged on his forehead, his whole body tensed up and shaking with rage.

"Over one little kid, you'd report me to the Holy See?! Who do you think you are? A commoner who crawled out of the mud, and you dare—you actually dare—"

Prey raised his crossbow, aiming the bolt at Aether.

At that very moment, a blur of motion shot through the air like lightning.

CRACK!

Captain Prey's precious crossbow snapped in two, the break so clean it looked polished.

Captain Prey stared at the remnants of his crossbow, his face filled with disbelief.

From Lyman's angle, though, it was crystal clear—the rotund Warden came striding over with Nashel right behind him, still holding that empty sword hilt.

"What the hell is all this racket? I can't even read in peace." Nashel said lazily. "Captain Prey, this is Cape Prison, not some hunting ground, right? Pointing a crossbow at people—what's your deal?"

Captain Prey's face flushed crimson, so red you could squeeze blood out of it: "You actually broke my stuff? My uncle gave me that!"

"Oh? Want me to pay you back?" Nashel squawked. "Then tell your uncle to come see me."

"You...!"

The Warden jumped in between them, grabbing both Prey and Aether by the hands.

"Come on, you two, knock it off. Lord Aether, I don't think Captain Prey meant any harm. As for that prisoner getting hurt—well, there were no witnesses, so maybe it's all just a misunderstanding. Maybe the prisoners were just beating each other up. It's my fault for not running the prison properly—not Captain Prey's."

He then said to Prey: "You are all pillars of the Church, serving the Holy Nation. Don't let something this petty ruin your friendship! I've got a nice crossbow back at my place—it's yours!"

Prey shot Aether and Nashel a vicious glare, pure venom in his eyes. He shook off the Warden's hand and stormed toward the tower. His subordinates quickly followed.

"Oh, Captain Prey." Nashel sheathed the empty sword hilt, calling out cheerfully to Prey's retreating back, "I saw you bagged a bear cub—so where's the mama bear?"

"None of your damn business!"

Nashel's smile vanished instantly.

"Then you'd better be careful." He stared at Captain Prey, speaking seriously, word by word. "A mother who loses her cub turns into a real beast. Do be careful on your next hunt."

Prey ignored him completely, kicking aside Deputy Captain Edton who happened to be passing by, and disappeared into the tower.

The Warden wiped the sweat from his forehead, offering an apologetic smile to the two Inquisitors: "Captain Prey is young and hot-headed. Please be lenient with him. There's no need to bother His Holiness with such trivial matters, right? I have a bottle of 'Midday Sun' from '85 that's perfect for opening today. Come, come, let me take you..."

He led the two Inquisitors into the main building.

The square returned to calm.

The prisoners dared not even breathe loudly, silently continuing their work.

As dusk approached, Deputy Captain Edton arrived at the square. He glanced at Lyman and the others first, then turned his gaze to several prisoners paving the road nearby.

"You, you, and you! Come with me! Captain Prey wants you to clean up!"

Lyman's spirits lifted—everything was going exactly as he had planned. The plan was coming together!