by Gareth Lewis
*
The city barracks were larger, busier, and more efficient than Adajo was used to. While on duty enforcers maintained their alert efficiency even in the barracks, they were slightly more relaxed when unmasked.
Though none had the poise of Tsotu, their official persona was apparently trained into them. Adajo had never received training. He doubted it would do much good back home, where everyone knew who was under the mask. Their training regime also required they read a section of the Book of Law each night, to keep it in mind. Adajo had skimmed it when first inducted. It was usually only opened when they wanted to classify something someone had done which they knew was wrong, but which wasn't among the more common violations. He tried fitting in by reading a section from a loaned copy, but found it as hard going as he remembered.
Tsotu collected him the following morning – not having a room at the barracks – and they returned to the university. Enforcers and examiners rarely spoke while walking the streets, giving the impression of observing all without appearing to look at anything. Adajo did his best to mimic this, but couldn't avoid his gaze getting caught by the sights.
They drew little attention, and while the bustling crowds gave them a polite berth they were treated as an everyday part of city life. There was a degree of respect – even if superficial – which was alien from how he'd be treated back home. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.
They'd learned the location of Varnu's office the previous day, so finding it proved as easy as any other feat of navigating the university's labyrinthine corridors.
Varnu sat at his desk, glancing up in astonishment as they entered. He stuttered his words for a second. 'Yes?'
'We have further questions,' said Tsotu, his tone calm and unrushed.
'Of course,' said Varnu, tidying aside his notes. 'Please sit.' He waved at the chairs, one in front of his desk, another couple near the wall.
Tsotu sat by the desk, while Adajo remained standing.
Suppressing his irritation at Adajo, Varnu managed a sociable smile, albeit slightly forced. 'How may I help?'
'We'd like to know what you were looking for at the ruins,' said Tsotu.
'The ruins?' Varnu seemed taken aback at the question. 'What would they have to do with Kilipa's murder?'
'That's what we wish to ascertain.'
'I see. Sorry, it's just that the rumours, and... well, after seeing what'd been done to him...' Varnu glanced away. 'I assume you know he was engaged to the daughter of the chief adherent of Rauthon?'
'Yes,' said Tsotu. 'That doesn't seem relevant.'
Varnu hesitated, and fumbled a bit before answering. 'Ah, well, I found mention of the ruins in an obscure text, with some interesting new information which may identify the original purposes of some structures. We were there to confirm the findings.'
'Where is the text now?'
'In the library. I brought it from Mirror of Heaven, but it's an old tome, and has to be kept in a secure environment. I'm afraid it's ancient Theleric, and there's no translated copy.'
'I know someone familiar with the language,' said Tsotu. 'Would it be acceptable to have them examine it?'
Varnu straightened, indignation in his eyes. Along with something else. 'Are you questioning my work?'
'No. But given that you must be considered a suspect, I would be derelict in my duties not to examine everything.'
'A suspect? Why?'
'You were the last person to see him alive,' said Tsotu.
'But... Why would I want to kill him? How would I kill him?'
'You found nothing at the ruins which would be worth killing for, then?'
'Anything of value was long ago looted,' said Varnu. His eyes flitted about and he seemed uncomfortable. He glanced frequently at one side of his desk. The surface of the desk held a couple of books – one of which lay open – and a number of loose sheets – all of which appeared disorganized to Adajo. Notably less ordered than his room at the inn. It better matched what Adajo had pictured of his personality from speaking to the scholar. Why would his inn room have been so much tidier?
'All we sought was verification, the acclaim for which would hardly be worth killing for. And certainly not before we'd found anything.'
His eyes flicked aside again, and Adajo wondered whether he had something in the drawer.
'Kilipa was my translator for the ancient writings, so if I was going back I'd need another translator. I could hardly present the findings without someone to verify...' He hesitated. His gaze fixed on Tsotu, but seemed to want to flick to the desk. 'Look, I apologise, but I see no reason you need me to go over this.'
Adajo strolled casually towards the side of the desk the scholar wanted to avoid looking at.
Varnu's gaze flicked between them.
'You brought nothing back from the ruins?' Tsotu's voice remained calm and even.
'No. There's nothing there of value which can be carried away.'
'The staff at the inn claimed you were protective of something,' said Tsotu.
'What?' Varnu glanced at Adajo, near the side of his desk. Anger mingled with fear in his gaze. 'I... had my books, and didn't want to risk those clumsy oafs damaging them.'
'Books?'
'Yes, books. They have words in, and are read by those of us educated enough to avoid the more menial roles in society. Now why are you wasting time questioning me? If you don't think his fiancé or her father had anything to do with it, why don't you question his lover by the river?'
'His lover?'
'Yes.'
'You said you saw him heading towards Brass Rings, in the opposite direction from the river, and said nothing about a lover.'
'A...' His eyes darted between them even faster. 'I couldn't reveal what he'd told me in confidence.'
'So you revealed enough that we could easily learn the truth, conveniently giving you time to leave with a suspicious package.'
'I told you it was my books,' Varnu said through gritted teeth. 'Here, look at them.'
As his left hand reached for a book, his right reached for the drawer. Adajo tried to get there first, but a flying book forced him to duck aside. Varnu drew the old carved rod he'd used as a paperweight back at the inn.
Adajo was just out of reach. Before Varnu could act, Tsotu shoved the desk into him. The impact knocked the scholar off balance, tilting the rod up as he spoke. A dazzling ray burst forth, narrowly missing Adajo.
His eyes overcome by a bright haze, Adajo could just make out the scholar's outline, and the rod's. He grabbed for it, wrestling with Varnu to keep it pointed away. The wiry scholar fought with a strength born of rage to keep hold of the thing, his attention focussed on turning it on his enemies. He didn't notice Tsotu vault the desk. The examiner caught the scholar brutally on the head with his baton.
Varnu stumbled away, his grip broken. Which left the object in Adajo's grasp.
Tsotu slammed Varnu into the wall, his baton again catching him across the head. This time it sent him to the floor.
Adajo stared at the sceptre with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. He glanced uneasily at the scorching to the wall. There were stories of objects doing such things, somehow invoking the powers of the spirits. Until seconds ago, stories were all they'd been. Now he held one which could burn a man dead in a second, and he didn't have a clue how it worked. What had Varnu said when it had activated? Keeping the firing end pointed at the wall, he gingerly lowered it to the table. He backed away, trying to control his shaking.
Glancing at Tsotu, he saw the examiner examine the device from where he stood, apparently unruffled.
Adajo moved to drag Varnu clear and take charge of escorting him. He had no wish to carry that sceptre.