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Empire of Night Ch37
Initiate Henniel bustled about the Palace’s lower levels. Preparing for the inquisitor’s next interview.
Inquisitor Iiandere was, she could tell, growing more and more restless, and Henniel couldn’t blame her. These endless interrogations, first of the palace staff and now of various lowlives and criminals, were beginning to wear even on Henniel herself, and she was, she thought, of a more agreeable temperament.
Still, if the inquisitor deemed it the best path, Henniel would follow her. Henniel would rush into a burning building if the inquisitor so ordered.
Her assignment had worried her at first. Despite being more senior within the organization, the inquisitor was born to the inferior classes, her mother a fletcher or somesuch.
Despite Henniel’s initial misgivings, Iiandere had proven more than gallant. Her conduct certainly elevated her above the vulgarity of her birth, perhaps even above women of noble birth.
Courageous, regal, witty, and handsome, too. Truly, a woman to be aspired to.
Henniel approached the inquisitor’s office and stopped before the door. She took a steadying breath, straightened her gown, and after a cursory knock, entered, bowing her head to her superior.
Iiandere looked up from her work. “We’re ready?”
“Yes,” Henniel said, nodding. “Lady inquisitor.”
“Good,” Iiandere said, “have her brought in.”
“Yes, inquisitor,” she said, curtsying and backing out of the room. She trotted from the room, hurrying to do as she was bid; it wouldn’t do to keep Iiandere waiting.
She found the guard, nodding as she approached. “Bring the prisoner, and be quick, don’t delay her.
“Yes, Ma’am,” the guard said, saluting with her hand over her heart and scurrying down into the dungeon's depths.
She waited and, when the woman returned, nodded to her. “Thank you,” she said. “Follow me.”
The woman nodded and shoved the prisoner forward. “You heard her; come on.”
Henniel led them back to the office, opening the door and allowing the guard to proceed her into the room. As the woman seated the prisoner, Henniel took her own place at the inquisitor’s right hand.
Iiandere fixed a cool, impassive gaze on the prisoner for a moment before turning to the guard. “You may stay.”
The guard nodded and stationed herself in front of the door, arms crossed over her chest, glaring a hole through the back of the prisoner’s head.
Iiandere glanced down and shifted through the pages before her, sniffing. “You’ve had a busy week, Miss Chevial.”
Their suspect’s eyes widened, and Iiandere chuckled darkly. “Oh yes,” she said. “We know all about you. You and lady,” she paused, glancing down at her notes, “Farsath.”
The woman opposite said nothing but already was beginning to sweat and wither under Iiandere’s gaze. It never ceased to impress how few words the inquisitor required to get results. Rarely repeating a tact but never failing to produce success.
Iiandere allowed the silence to stretch a bit longer before continuing. “Why does Lady Farsath want the empress dead?”
“My lady has nothing to do with this!” the prisoner protested.
Henniel had to suppress her laugh as she noted the woman’s words. She had been captured carrying the emblem of a noble house, the badge of a bonded servant. To say this lady had nothing to do with it was preposterous. Even had she known nothing of her servant’s treason, she should have and would be condemned by her ignorance, if not conspiracy.
“Oh no?” Iiandere chortled. “Yet here you sit, bondswoman, carrying the very sigil of a noble house. You expect me to believe your mistress had nothing to do with this- this treasonous heresy?”
The woman, apparently done responding to that line of questioning, sat mute, and Iiandere returned to her notes.
“I see that you’re wed.”
The woman’s fists clenched. “I came on my own initiative; no one else is involved!”
“No one?” Iiandered chuckled. “Not even a certain southern man?”
The woman’s face went slack, and she paled visibly. “How- how did you.”
“Please, did you think you had escaped the eyes and ears of the empire?” Iiandere asked.
A bluff, they had no such information, or if they had, Iiandere hadn’t seen fit to share, until this woman had admitted it that very moment.
The prisoner swallowed, and Iiandere pressed on. “Rather uncouth, a lady of your stature, and wed no less, galavanting around the capitol with an unattached man. Does your husband know you’ve been cavorting with other men?”
“I would never,” the woman snarled.
“Then how would you explain it?” Iiandere demanded.
The prisoner stared, shook her head, and cast about, seemingly for any source of assistance. Finally, the woman’s eyes came to rest on Henniel, and the inquisitor nudged her with her leg.
Henniel smiled at the woman; if she needed to feel she had a friend in the room, she would play the part. “Perhaps you’ve been misled?”
“I- misled?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” Henniel leaned forward, mustered her will, and years of hard education as a woman of the elite, and offered a perfectly convincing, if utterly false, look of sympathy. “Seduced by an honorless tramp. You aren’t the only one you know. Why don’t you tell us how he deceived a good, loyal citizen, such as yourself, into such a horrendous act?”
The prisoner frowned, her brow furrowing. “He- He-”
“That’s what happened, isn’t it?” Henniel asked. “You would never, never, betray your lady this way, bring the wrath and suspicion of the crown down upon her.”
The woman shook her head emphatically. “No, never!”
Henniel nodded, smiling beneficently. “Of course not; why don’t you tell us about this man?”
The prisoner glanced between them, evidently still skittish. “Wh- what would you like to know?”
Iiandere leaned forward, taking over again. “Start with how you met.”
The prisoner swallowed, nodded. “It was the last harvest; one of my lady's friends had an abundance of wheat.”
“What friend?” Iiandere asked.
“Ah, a neighboring lady, Enshel, I think,” the woman said.
“And she had grain?”
“Yes, yes, Ma’am, that’s my understanding, more than she could use.”
“An odd problem to have,” the words were out of Henniel’s mouth before realizing she was thinking aloud. She looked apologetically to the inquisitor. But Iiandere merely offered a nearly imperceptible nod.
Henniel swallowed and turned back to the woman, the progression of their questioning now weighing on her shoulders.
“This woman, Enshel, she had an excess of grain? Doesn’t that strike you as strange? There’s never a lack of demand.”
“I don’t know all the details,” the woman said. “All I know is she deals in luxuries, like grain, and had more than she could handle, so she gave my lady a good deal.”
Iiandere pursed her lips. “Very well, accepting that’s the extent of your knowledge for now. This was when you met the man?”
“Yes, a member of the retinue,” the prisoner said.
Iiandere nodded. “Very well, and that’s when you approached him?”
The woman blinked. “I never approached him.”
Iiandere stared at the woman, and she swallowed, squirming under the inquisitor’s gaze. “I didn’t,” she cried. “He approached me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know; he said he was concerned about the empire, with the church welcoming Aliens into the fold….”
The woman snapped her mouth shut, withering under the inquisitor’s glare.
“That’s- that’s what he said.”
“But you didn’t disagree, did you?” Iiandere demanded.
The woman swallowed. “They- they do come out of the void….”
“Do they now?” Iiandere scoffed. “Did you think her eminence knew nothing of this fact when she made her determination?”
“I suppose she must have,” the woman said, ducking her head.
“You suppose,” Iiandere laughed. “Well, regardless of your suppositions, how did you come to the point of assassinating the Empress’ guest?”
“Guest?” the woman asked.
“The man,” Iiandere said.
The woman looked aghast, shaking her head. “I would never lay my hands on a man.”
Silence prevailed, Iiandere slowly shaking her head, and Henniel understood the sentiment. It was such an absurd claim. Treason and regicide were one thing, but battering a man? A man she had just proclaimed to be an alien, a demon. Apparently, that was too far.
“Very well,” Iiandere said at last. “Why attempt to kill the Empress?”
“Well- well, she was with that- creature from the void, just as he- just as mister Aathlan said. She’s going to sell us to the aliens.”
“Aathlan?” Iiandere asked.
The woman nodded. “That’s his name.”
“Alright,” Iiandere said. "What is this, Aathlan’s relation to this Lady Enshel?”
“I don’t know,” the prisoner said.
“Husband?”
“I don’t think so.”
“So, what was he doing in this retinue?” Iiandere asked.
“I don’t know,” the prisoner said. “I didn’t ask; presumably, he’s attached to someone beneath the lady.”
Iiandere sighed, shaking her head, and glanced down at her notes. “That’s all I have for the moment; take her back to her cell.”
“Wait,” the prisoner said. “I’ve cooperated, I’ve-”
“Silence!” Iiandere snapped. “Did you think you’d be released from custody?” She smiled viciously at the woman. “Besides, you’re safer here. Do you think the subversive elements you’ve gotten entangled with will allow you to live now that you’ve spoken to us?”
The woman paled, and at that moment, there was a knock, and a guard opened the door, saluting the inquisitor. “Your next appointment is ready, Lady Inquisitor,” she said. “At your leisure.”
Iiandere nodded. “Perfect timing, take her away, treat her gently; ensure she is as comfortable as possible; we may have further use of her.”
The guards snapped to attention, hands over hearts, and did as ordered.
Iiandere stood, gathered up her notes, and went to the door, Henniel at her heels. She opened the door and held it as the inquisitor stepped through.
“Inquisitor.”
They looked up and saw a woman approaching from down the hall. She stopped some three paces away and ducked her head in greeting. “May I speak with you?”
Henniel frowned; the last time a woman had come to speak with the inquisitor, she’d ended up worse for the wear. But Iiandere nodded and led the woman away.
They stepped into Iiandere’s private office, and curious, Henniel positioned herself by the door, listening.
“The captain gave you that,” it was the stranger speaking.
“No,” Iiandere said, sounding bored. “I just fell.”
There was a pause, “I’ve caused you more problems.”
“Don’t be so conceited,” Iiandere snapped. “I cause my own problems, thank you very much.”
Silence, then. “You didn’t come here just for that; what do you want.” Henniel could practically see Iiandere crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m sorry.”
A pause. “That doesn’t change anything.”
“I know, but it’s all I can offer.”
Another pause. “You were indispensable in identifying that assassin. Thank you.”
“Iiandere-”
“Leave it, Serra; there’s nothing we can do. Nothing to be done. So just- let it be the past.”
Henniel wondered what had transpired between this woman and her inquisitor.
She supposed she might never know. She heard the women shuffle about beyond the door. “Was there anything else?” Iiandere asked.
“I suppose not; perhaps you’ll join us for dinner sometime?”
“I’ll consider it. For now, I have more work to do.”
“Oh, forgive me, I-”
“No, actually, this is rather opportune, I have new names for you, and I’m meeting with Rosslln’s little friend. Perhaps you’ll sit in?”
“If you’d like, but don’t let me keep you, regardless.”
There was more movement from beyond the door, and Henniel scrambled to gain some distance, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.
The women emerged, and the inquisitor glanced about, catching sight of Henniel and sauntering over. “Have her brought in.”
Henniel nodded. “Yes, inquisitor,” turning to do as she was bid.
“Initiate.”
Henniel turned to see the other woman, Serra, she’d heard the inquisitor say, staring hard at her. “Yes?”
“You are a Lucern, or am I mistaken?”
Henniel frowned; who was this woman? “I am,” she said, head held high. “First daughter of that venerable house.”
Serra nodded slowly. “An odd choice of profession.”
Henniel felt her face redden, and she glared at the older woman. “What business is it of yours?”
Iiandere glanced between them. “Why is it strange?”
“You don’t know?” Serra asked. “Perhaps it would be best if the young lady explained….”
Henniel scowled. “Don’t bother yourself over me.”
Serra shrugged. “Very well, in the time of her Magnificence Elliza the first, her Magnificence’s grandmother, the Lucern were incorporated beneath the Empress but were dissatisfied with the growing power of the northern nobility. In short, they rebelled and were put down. The sanctions imposed were quite severe, and later the women responsible, having proven their loyalty to the crown, were tasked with founding the inquisition.”
“I see,” Iiandere said, examining Henniel.
“So,” Serra said. “You see why I was curious, why the inquisition?”
Henniel clenched her fists. “I wanted to serve the empire.”
“A noble pursuit,” Iiandere said. “But surely a woman of your stature could have her pick of equally noble professions.”
Henniel swallowed, biting her lip and looking down. “My family shamed itself, dirtied an ancient and glorious legacy. I must repair the mistakes of our past.”
A heavy hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she looked up to find Iiandere smiling at her. “Good answer.”
She ducked her head again, this time hiding her smile, and when she looked up, she turned to Serra. “You’re quite knowledgable.”
Serra nodded. “Of course, it is also my family history, after all.”
Henniel’s eyes widened. “You’re a Faragal!”
“Yes,” Serra said, bowing her head. “My venerable grandmother is the inquisition’s founding matriarch.”
“I see,” Henniel said, eyeing the older woman cautiously.
She reached out, offering her hand. “A pleasure to become acquainted with a woman of your caliber.”
Henniel hesitated a moment, reached out, and took the offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Serra nodded and gave her hand a vigorous shake.
“I think that’s enough of that; let’s move along,” Iiandere said.
The inquisitor turned, clearly under the impression that the topic was settled, so it was. Henniel followed a step behind, and Serra took a spot at her right hand.
“Do you know what young Semma wants?”
“To provide information," Iiandere said. "What that could be? We’ll just have to find out.”
Iiandere led them to her lounge and proceeded them inside. There, sitting before the fire, was Iiandere’s young contact.
She looked up as they entered and jumped to her feet. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”
Iiandere crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, clearly, I haven’t. So what do you have?”
The young woman took a breath. “I was in the tavern working the proprietress for information when this group came in. I don’t know; I thought they were suspicious, so I listened to their conversation. I didn’t understand all of it, but there was this man with them.”
“A man,” Iiandere asked, perking up. “What did he look like?”
“I don’t know, he was all wrapped up against the cold. But listen, he knew.”
“Knew?”
“Knew what I wanted, that I was working for you.”
“What? How do you know?” Iiandere demanded.
“I was sneaking out the back, and he was just- there. I thought I was dead, but- he just let me go. Told me to come report to you.”
Iiandere frowned, her brow furrowing deeply. “What else did you learn?”
The young lady shook her head. “Ah, not much; they were talking about some woman who’d gone off on her own; they seemed upset. There was something about a band of brigands who had visited their mistress. And a name, a Lady Stisengall. Their mistress, I guess.”
“Well.” Iiandere scratched her head. “I know more than I did. You should be more careful. No point in endangering yourself. You’ll do no one any favors and provide no information if you get yourself killed."
The girl nodded, and Iiandere turned to Serra. “Stisengall?”
The woman seemed to think about it and shook her head. “I’m not familiar with the name; I’ll look into it.”
“See you do,” Iiandere said. “Be about yourself; I’m taking a break.” She glanced at the informant. “You look like you could use some food and perhaps a drink. Initiate, bring something for us.”
