The Great Pandemonium: Nobilitas Obligat

Part VIII. Nighttyr

Part VIII. Nighttyr

After spending nearly a week methodically burning Nighttyr Keep to the ground and then burning the ashes twice over an Inqusitorial detachment arrived in full regalia, all of them looking very important and quite shiny in the early morning light of his sixth day as an Inferi.

At their head was a man Drystan had known at the Rectory in Woad Plains, a square-jawed straightforward fellow called Bergersen. Noting the stripes affixed to his left pauldron he had made Inquisitor Captain, though because he was not born in the Empire, he would not be rising any higher in the ranks that required Imperial birthrights. He was flanked by a half-dozen indistinct Inquisitors whose faces blurred into one the moment his eyes left them and focused on their captain.

“My scouts came back with signs of a killing field in this area,” said Bergersen, glancing from the bailey over to Drystan where he sat perched tiredly upon the rubble of the inner wall with hawklike gray-green eyes. He had lost once again to Sacha and found himself saddled with the morning watch. One day he was going to find out exactly how the woman or her revenant were able to cheat so flawlessly at every card game he could think up. He had a sneaking suspicion that Arathron was selling him out to Erathi; of all the things the man could have disliked about Eral, gambling was never on any of the lists.

“I took care of it,” said Drystan, not bothering to move. He was still exhausted by everything that had happened and was only starting to feel the weight of the revelations of that day. “The locus was inside a cat.”

Bergersen looked properly disgusted for a man who had no clue that there were worse things out in the world than a tabby cat stripped of its soul. “Filthy espiri witches.”

“It was an Oratio. His name was Nocis. We know you know something of what he has been up to.” Sacha strode out from the half-collapsed barn where they had been stabling their horses and making their preparations to leave. She withdrew the single thing they had deigned to keep when they burned the place to the ground and handed it up to the Captain. “There are his patents attesting to his identity and nobility. Deliver them to your commander along with the respects of Antenox.”

A few of the Inquisitors behind Bergersen stifled their surprise at hearing the name. The Captain himself merely nodded, however; it was plain to see he had been expecting the shadowy order to be the ones responsible for a feat not even the Inquisition had been able to mount an assault against. “I saw three of you ride in. Where is your comrade who rode the dapple gray?”

“She was killed while we assailed the Oratio's laboratory,” replied Sacha. “We have laid her to rest. As we have laid to rest what remained of Owen Nighttyr, whose life was used to hide the keep behind a bloodward.”

Bergersen regarded them quietly for a moment, then turned in his saddle to face his lieutenant. “Take the men to the Rectory at Woad Plains and inform the commander.” He handed over the bound roll of leather containing Nocis' official family tree, census, and seal of the Emperor appointing him as a noble Oratio of the Empire. “Enter this into the Nighttyr file and into the lineage books, then mark it for the Reliquary and seal it within the ark. I want those records on my desk when I arrive; once I have interviewed these witnesses I will be closing out our investigation.”

“Aye, ser,” said the lieutenant with a smart salute. He reigned his courser around and signaled the column of men to follow after him. Until they were well out of earshot Bergersen made a convincing display of inspecting what remained of the ashes of the keep for any additional signs of espiri influence.

“You can challenge Weist's position by the Right of Blood Court,” said Bergersen, looking directly at Drystan. “Owen Nighttyr was never tried by the Inquisition and thus never convicted of apostasy. I know for a fact that every danelord besides Weist's in the Jurian will side with you against him, though you'll probably only need the cavalry in Eleisyn to thrash his coin-fed dandies. The Outremer is rightfully yours.”