The Barrowland Slayers

Chapter 12: The Quiet Town

 Rain had fallen overnight, and the dawn light barely pierced the gray veil that had settled around the city. Inquisitor Varus had risen early, as usual, willing himself to ignore the fact that he hadn't slept more than a few hours. Justice demanded long hours. Though he had little information to operate with besides the tall tales of the condemned, Varus felt that a full day in court would yield sufficient answers.

Even if I have to end my inquiries early, we have time enough to settle the main issues.

Despite the early hour, Varus was surprised to see Duke Machovius himself striding through the main plaza to the armory, accompanied by a coterie of officials. The Inquisitor hurried over, intercepting the group as they approached the stairs.

"Just two hours ago, my lord," a man wearing armor and the duke's personal tabard was saying.

"Mm, indeed... ah, Varus." Duke Machovius came to a halt, studying the Inquisitor with his piercing eyes. "I trust there will be no issue with coming to a speedy conclusion during today's trial."

"Not at all, my lord." Varus puffed himself up. "I have been working diligently through the night and we shall, no doubt, deliver justice by sundown."

"Good, good," Duke Machovius said distractedly. "Earlier might be better." He scratched at the graying stubble on his chin. "It's fine either way. With all the rumblings in the north it's important that the people feel the Inquisition have a handle on the situation. You understand? Rumors are beginning to spread."

"Of course, my lord," Varus said, bowing low. "If I may... what rumors?"

The duke chuckled humorlessly. "I was under the impression the Inquisition is always the first to know when discontent spreads."

"Undoubtedly, my lord." Varus kept his expression carefully neutral. "I have been focused on this trial. If there is something in particular—"

"Just growing issues at the watchtowers along the river. What we thought was dysentery might be more serious..." Duke Machovius leaned in close, pitching his voice low. "We've issued strict orders to the army to wear masks and bar passage to travelers. Should the plague spread, more extreme measures may need to be taken. I've taken the liberty of dispatching Inquisitor Korso to handle the situation."

Varus blanched. "A task of that magnitude... my lord, that should properly be handled by myself."

"Mm. Perhaps." Duke Machovius shrugged. "As you say, you've been single-mindedly focused on this trial. Your dogged pursuit of heretics has, as ever, been a credit to your work." He frowned, glancing up at the hazy fog as a few drops began to fall. "Yet there are no shortage of tasks needing completion. Bring this to a quick end, Inquisitor, and assure the people that we are in control. Now then, I have a busy day of my own to attend to," the duke said, hurrying up the steps to the armory. His band of followers trailed after the men, leaving Inquisitor Varus behind, as the rain thickened.

He thinks to replace me. Varus clenched his fist and turned. We shall see about that.

The spectral figure of the inquisitor drifted through the plaza, even as other figures emerged. Limping and grimacing, some of the prisoners seemed worse for wear, though others had the air of indifference. Varus paused, glancing up at the empty gibbets and wooden stage standing just outside the ministry of justice. Raindrops splashed off the platform and the metal cages alike.

Then Varus hurried forward, greeted by the bailiff as he entered the courtroom.

"Have word sent to Bellinger and his assistant," the Inquisitor said, brushing water from his hair. "I want the executioner prepared for multiple victims."