"Then it seems certain who the culprit is. You are welcome, Kalig. Your suggestions are often wise. Let us return."
In short order, Dorick and Kalig return to Francoix's home and business. They appear to be looking for someone.
Dorick nudges Kalig, then begims to walk directly for Hatha.
Moving to flank with Dorick, Kalig whispers in Mia's ear as she passes, "Get Francoix."
He began trying to calm the woman down. Despite not having an alibi and despite being well able to kill a man with her work he didnt think she was the culprit but he didnt need her leaving the room looking worse for the wear. He needed some strong spirits to help her no doubt.
"Apprentices?" Sabine asks, still reining in her breathing and heart rate. "We could sure use the extra skilled hands. Desna knows I could use the help. But, I'm hardly a master myself. I don't know how well I'd be able to teach anyone. And...and the hobgoblins? I know they've contributed to Haven, both building and protecting it, but...it's just hard to put aside their history."
Francoix's conversation with Sabine is interrupted, however, as Mia appears at his shoulder and asks him to join the rest of the party back in the common room. Meanwhile, out in the common room, Hatha looks up and offers a beaming smile as Kalig and Dorick approach.
"Good evening, friends. Well, I suppose it really isn't all that good, everything considered. Not only do we have this grisly business on our hands, but Rolf the woodcutter is worried that his wife might be a tad too friendly with his younger brother."
The gossipy butcher continues to share secrets, betraying no inkling that she knows your business with her.
Dorick steps up to Hatha.
"Hatha. We want a word with you about earlier. Why did you stash a knife onto Sabine's roof?"
"A knife? But how could...oh no! I discovered one of my knives missing this morning! Do you suppose the killer may have taken it, deflecting blame unto me just as he did to poor Sabine?" Hatha pleads, clasping her hands together.
She gives Dorick a slight shake of the head, and then gestures at the guards to approach. She herself moves to block the nearest exit.
For a moment, Dorick is uncertain. But Kalig sees through the deceit and Dorick stiffens his resolve.
"Hatha, enough. Come with us."
Hatha heaves a resigned sigh. As Buckel and Miss Crookshanks respond to Kalig's summons, the butcherwoman makes no sudden moves.
"How unfortunate," she says, softly shaking her head. "I'll not run. You don't have to worry about that. In fact, you may want to disperse the rest of our neighbors so we can talk in private."
Dorick nods, actually agreeing with Hatha. He then looks to achieve said privacy, though not telling Buckel and Crookshanks to leave.
"Take some time to breath Miss Sabine, I'll talk to some folk and see if any folk would be interested in helping out. I'll be back in a few moments."
He sighed as he moved and caught up with the others, taking a flanking stance. When she appeared to give herself up with no struggle he breathed a sigh of relief.
As Dorick begins to try to ask folks to leave, Kalig asks someone reliable leaving, "Can someone please get Aristide?"
Hatha remains unnervingly quiet and calm, offering not a single unprompted word until Aristide arrives. The viscount is escorted inside by his aides Gustav and Hovant, who carry the handicapped man upon a chair.
"Since the game is done too soon, I will dispense with pleasantry and be honest. I regret losing the chance to bring you to justice," she sneers, watching Aristide carried as though upon a sedan chair.
Dorick has his halberd in hand and makes sure that he is close enough to Hatha to block a straight run at Aristide, should it come to that.
"What grudge do you carry against Aristide? Who are you really?"
Kalig is almost surprised by Hatha's sudden turn. Guilty though she may be, they still only had circumstantial evidence (not that that bothered Kalig much, but it might bother others). Hatha was on the verge of full confession, however. "Wait, one thing at a time: why did you murder Fergus?"
"Their crime is the same: they're nobles who've colluded against the Revolutionary Council and the people of Galt. You are all still citizens of Galt. You would do well to remember that," she says, sweeping across you with a gaze as sharp as Dorick's halberd.
"I caught wind that Fergus was meeting with the hobgoblins, discussing the possibility of allying with their kind to destroy he Revolutionary Council and return Galt to the hands of decadent nobles. Fendir rebuffed the idea, but the fact that Fergus was willing to pursue such abominable avenues meant that he had to be executed for his crimes."
"You are a Gray Gardener, are you not?" Aristide speaks grimly, offering the words more as a declaration, a condemnation rather than a question.
Hatha smiles proudly and offers a nod to confirm the assertion.
Dorick glares at Hatha, clearly incensed.
"You and your ilk are the reason that Galt is a charnel house of madness. You are a shameless murderer and would see everywhere else descend into the ruin that you have inflicted on noble Galt."
"Oh, the nobility of Galt can also be giant s~$+s, too," Kalig says. "But none of them here are cutting people's throats based on stupidly spurious assumptions."
"Question is, what do we do? The politics I could care less about--although we shall have to find out who her contacts are in case she would draw other madmen toward our town--but she confessed to murder, and tried to frame Sabine for it. I have evidence on that front, and I'm sure Francoix learned a lot from his conversations as well."
"We are the protectors of Galt's spirit!" Hatha spits, suddenly defiant. "And we will see that revolutionary spirit endure, despite decadent Taldor's depredations."
Seeing hands tighten upon hilts, she settles back in her seat and calms herself.
"You are citizens of Galt," she repeats sedately. "You will be reminded of that soon enough."
"Your lordship. Sir Dorick. I think its time for you two to go speak with the people. Im sure Kalig and I can handle the prisoner and find out what she knows."
He said uneasily and with a slight frown. He was leaving this sort of s~~# behind he had thought. They had left Galt and by proxy the river kingdoms for a chance at a normal better life. He would be damned if some zealot fool tried to pull that back into his life now.
"Sabine mentioned a foggyness to her mind, what did you do to her eh Hatha? She is no noble just a poor woman with kids trying to better their lives.You would have had her take your blame? You are a monster, worse than any noble i've dealt with to be sure."
He growled crossing his arms across his chest and under his armpits as if to force his hands still.
Dorick glares at Hatha with revulsion then turns to Francoix and Kalig.
"It is a dire infection of the mind that she has. Good luck to you both in dealing with her."
He then leaves, in as measured and dignified a walk as he can manage.
To see the face of Galt's madness! To hear it *glorified*!
He shakes his head as he leaves, his lips closed.
************
Dorick then moves about informing anyone still up:
"The murderer has been captured and confessed when presented with evidence. It was Hatha. You can return to your homes in safety."
Mia just stares at the ground in shock. She wasn't good at this sort of thing, and while she had gotten better about voice her own thoughts and on controlling her anxeity induced stuttering she still was terrible in general at talking to folk or social cues. Best let the others handle this. She was happy her idea proved to be helpful in some respects at least.
Kalig does nothing to stop Dorick--she trusts he knows when he needs to cool off.
"Good job, scaring off the one of us who has the highest sense of honor," she says to Hatha, giving her a tusky smile.
"Still, I'm not in charge. He's the fool who's agreed to be where the buck stops." She nods toward Aristide. "She's confessed. We have her weapon and other evidence. What do you want to do next?"
After that, Kalig says nothing if asked and keeps a constant eye on Hatha.
"I did nothing to Sabine's mind. Hiding my knife upon her roof was just bad luck for her," Hatha explains, her voice uncannily casual for what she discusses. "I'd hoped everyone would see the hobgoblins and orcs as the true threats to the Galtan spirit, but Sabine would've been no great loss. You've seen her brats, yes? They certainly look to be of mixed blood. Their father was probably Kellid, or worse, Qadiran."
"Before we settle her fate, I have one more pressing question," Aristide states with a trembling hand raised to call for calm and quiet. "What did you mean when you said 'we would be reminded' that we were citizens of Galt, even though that is no longer true?"
Hatha leans back, surprisingly at ease.
"A third wave of settlers is coming," she says with a confident smile. "The Taldan invasion back home is a terrible setback, but it is not the end for the Revolution. We shall turn this place into New Galt and revive the spirit of the Revolution."
With the crowd dispersed, Dorick decides to stand guard in the street outside of Francoix's home.
He shares a look with Caragus, who has been waiting nearby, then breaks the silence.
"Aye, I am no mood to sleep either."
And he waits.
When Hatha complains of "mixed blood" Kalig leans close to her and just stares.
"We will need to watch her closely, lest this butcher harm any more of our dear souls and further demonstrate her utter lack of one," the viscount announces coldly, leveling his own judging glare at Hatha.
"We will need time to carefully consider what form our justice will take. For now, I think it most prudent to tend to our more decent neighbors, allay their fears and allow them to rest at least somewhat soundly."
He frowned. He didnt like the idea of letting her live any longer than need be. That thought probably lingered from his rough upbringing. With a clear glare of promised death torwards the traitorous woman he cleared his throat.
"I dont like the idea of this sickness, this infection being here any longer than it needs be my lord. We dont have a true sheriff here and im not volunteering but wouldnt the sight of this one hanging from a gibbet or the like when the other's arrive maybe set the tone that we wont be having any of that revolution talk here?"
He asked the lord quietly.
"Or it will create a martyr for those zealots' cause," Kalig mutters.
"huh. I didnt think about that to be honest."
He sighed and merely scowled more.
Mia quietly approaches Aristide before speaking up.
My lord... I, I think whatever the punishment, it should involve no loss of life. I- We, left Galt to get away from the constant bloodshed. At least, that was one of the reasons I did. I understand that sometimes, nature forces one to take life. Be it in self preservation or for sustenance. However this is neither of those things. If we want to prove ourselves different, we have to strive to be better than the people in Galt that kill anyone with a different view or opinion than their own. Please, do not take the blood stained path so many have before. It only leaves sorrow and... She trails off at the end and makes no move to continue. After a few moments her face grows mildly red, as she realizes she had spoken without thinking.
Kalig says quietly to Francoix, "I get how you feel. I do. But given how easily she surrendered, it's probably what she even wants."
She nods in sympathy to Mia's words. "She's right. This was supposed to be a Haven from politics and Galt's revolution."
"Appointing a sheriff might be a good, long overdue idea," the viscount muses. "With all due respect to those of you present, Sir Dorick is the first candidate to come to mind.
"Francoix, my good man, you are a close second, but I imagine the duty would conflict with the business you are founding."
Aristide taps the side of his head, thinking.
"I would also propose exiling this butcher, but I worry that she may linger to harry us in the night. Of course, Fendir and Harkan's kin would, presumably, gladly keep watch for her deadly mischief, especially considering how she tried to frame them for her own heinous deeds"
"I've been told that my son's murderer has been apprehended thanks to the noble efforts of you and your comrades," he announces. He pauses to snort through his nose, both to catch his breath and hide a sniffle.
"Once again, and more than ever before, you have my heartfelt thanks for your service, good sir."
He looks across the benighted horizon of Haven and offers a half-hearted gesture towards the wide open spaces.
"I wanted a better life for my family, my children and grandchildren. I knew we would face hardships and difficulty, but I never imagined my son would pay such a price."
Dorick looks to Lord d'Beranza.
"Sir, you have my sincere condolences. The lad did not deserve such a fate. At least justice is proving swift in Haven."
Cold comfort to this grieving man but what else can I say?
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
"I think Dorick is an excellent candidate. He could call upon Francoix as a deputy if matters required some finesse."
A thought comes to Kalig. "What's an unpleasant job that needs doing in this town? She could be made an indentured servant. Keep her gagged, so she can't spread her nonsense to the gullible. And not easy to sabotage. Digging trenches, or latrine maintenance. I'd say cleaning fish but I'd rather her not have a knife... that or or she'd find a way to poison it and kill us all."
He colored slightly in embarrassment. For just a moment he pictured himself as the law in the town and it just seemed the wildest end for his dark beginnings. It was just a moments fancy however.
"Those are kind words my lord, Miss Kalig, I wouldn't have the first idea how to do law. Sir Dorick would be the man for it. Noemie would go grey with worry over me."
He did frown though as he tried to think of what to do with her since it was clear they didn't want to exact capital punishment. He was worried too, that this might set a precedent for future issues. Unlike some of the other folk, he didn't think this would be the first time something like this happened. It was just the nature of some folk to do terrible things.
"Indentured servitude?" Aristide muses, moving his hand from his temple to his chin as he mulls the idea. In an echo of Francoix's thoughts, he adds, "It is true that I am reluctant to condone an execution. After all, we all hoped to leave the memory of the final blades in Galt well and truly behind us. Then again, with forced labor, I also don't want to stray down the path of Cheliax and allow slavery."
He slaps a hand upon his thigh, above his abbreviated knee.
"Gustav, please fetch Sir Dorick. His input upon the matter of punishment is paramount. Furthermore...Hovant," he says, directing his attention now to his bodyguard, as well as Mr. Buckel and Ms. Crookshanks, "Please find a safe place to secure this butcher and keep watch over her. She has been privy to enough of our deliberations."
He sighs heavily and keeps his eyes trained on the darkness.
"Please pardon me as a tarry. I am now simply putting off the dreaded task of facing the rest of my family, especially my grandchildren. They will so miss their dear uncle."
Your conversation with d'Beranza is interrupted as the viscount's steward emerges and asks you to rejoin the meeting within the inn.
Dorick is about to reply to d'Beranza, but is then interrupted.
"I see. I shall return with you at once."
Dorick re-enters the inn. Seeing Hatha, his eyes narrow.
Then he turns to the others:
"So, what have you decided is to be her fate?"
As Dorick reenters the inn, Hatha is escorted out by Hovant, Buckel, and Crookshanks.
"My first thought was exile on pain of death," the viscount begins. "However, Miss Kalig has suggested the possibility of indentured servitude as punishment. In the meantime, I had our guards take our murderess to be secured until her fate can be decided. I did not want her present to taunt us, lest she goad us into taking an action we might regret."
Dorick thinks.
"If we exile her, she can report back to her fellow lunatics should they should up. Indentured servitude would be better because we could keep an eye on her but she could still work her poison. Honestly, she is a confessed, cold-blooded murderer. She ought to hang."
"We've already discussed not wanting to create a martyr," Kalig advises Dorick. "Galtan revolutionaries eat that nonsense up. Her execution would only guarantee the arrival of more of same. Especially if she has allies here we do not yet know about."
"If she stays here and works, she stays gagged whenever she is around other people, so she cannot manipulate them. And who knows--I suspect she is too far gone, but some hard work around sane people might change her over time." She pauses. "If exile is the option, then we blindfold her and take her west, where we went lumbering. Release her with the means to survive, but no idea where she is and absolutely no way to reconnect with her people. And if an angry centaur tribe dislikes her phillipics, nature can take its course without Galt being able to bear witness."
"A lot of people here have lost loved ones thanks to the likes of her. I doubt many would see her as a martyr. But...it is a risk. Exile with a blindfold then. Her gagged here would look suspicious and thinking about it, take time and energy guarding her that we can ill-afford."
Mia looks more than apprehensive at the coming conclusion. It was likely sending her out in the wilds was no more than an execution in disguise for someone that may never have been taught how to survive there. And again, if she was trained in wilderness survival, it was only a matter of time before she found her way back to Galt.
Um... er. If she has had wilderness training, I doubt that she would be unable to find her way back. Especially since, for the most part, one could just follow the river.
"I still think it best we just take care of the murderer like a murderer should be taken care of. How many others in the future will hear how she got off with being exiled and just claim political motivation for any wrongdoing they do? I don't like it."
He paused and frowned clearly a thought had occured to him and it wasnt a nice one. He sighed and shook his head to himself.
"We could exile her publicly, then take her far away to release her in the wilds... and pass the true sentence out there, where no one can make a martyr of her. It seems dishonest, but no more dishonest than murdering a man and trying to make someone else take the fall for it."