by Sam Ferguson
Jonathan nodded.
“Captain Ziegler told you that the mission to Tanglewood Forest was to rescue Raven, is that true?”
“Yes,” Jonathan said.
“Ultimately, that mission failed and Raven died, is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Strangely enough, Captain Ziegler reported that Raven had been turned into a bear, and when that bear attacked, he was forced to kill it, thus murdering his friend. Is that true?”
“No! He didn’t murder him, it wasn’t like that!”
SLAP!
Morgan had been so fast that Jonathan never saw the hand coming.
“Yes or no, Captain Ziegler killed Raven?”
“Yes.”
“Other casualties of this mission include Miranda, Raven’s daughter, Ruben Faelwyn, Lucas Oaks, otherwise known as Moose, and Damon Meaks, otherwise known as Bull. Correct?”
Jonathan hesitated. He knew that Miranda was still alive, but none of the official reports had ever discussed the Guardian, his detailed knowledge of the Astral Crystal, or his time-traveling. “Yes,” Jonathan said.
“Is it possible that Raven had located a treasure during his regular duties and instead of helping him, Captain Ziegler was jealous and drove him away in the first place by threatening to kill him?”
“NO!”
“Why not?”
“Brykith was the evil mastermind,” Jonathan said. “The elves will tell you as much!”
Morgan nodded. “And yet, there are no other witnesses of Brykith’s true crimes. There are elves who agree with your story, but they didn’t personally witness any of the things claimed in your reports. For all I know, the entire thing was concocted by Captain Ziegler to cover up Raven’s murder, and to steal this magical weapon from the kingdom and keep it for himself!”
“Icadion’s beard!” Jonathan shouted. “You are the dumbest woman I have ever met! This is ludicrous!”
Morgan smiled, but she didn’t rise to meet Jonathan’s shouting. Instead, she maintained her cool control, taking a seat along the edge of the table, as though taunting him with the knowledge that the chains that kept his hands tethered to the ring on the floor would prevent him from ever retaliating. “Very well. I won’t ask any more questions about Tanglewood Forest.” She paused and then pointed at Jonathan. “Let me ask you about the Murkle Quags instead.”
Jonathan nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Did you claim to have a magical bow given to you from the Kigyo?”
Jonathan nodded. “The Kigyo King gave it to me,” he answered.
“Ah, so you admit that you have gone on treasure hunts in the past as well?”
Jonathan shook his head. “No. I was coerced into it by three soldiers.”
“Yes, I have spoken to them,” Morgan said. “Well, I spoke with two of them, anyway. Their side of the story is vastly different. They say you escaped from them and they got put into the stockades as punishment for losing you in Kigyo land because you were bent on finding some mythical treasure.”
“That’s a lie,” Jonathan said. “I didn’t escape, they gave me an ultimatum.”
“Too bad Rourke is dead,” Morgan said. “I would very much have liked to hear his account. Perhaps then I would have another witness to corroborate your side.”
“So ask any of the soldiers who went on the relief mission to Wendyn with me. They saw me use the bow. They can attest that I had a magical bow.”
“Even if they could, none of them would be able to tell me that you hadn’t willingly gone out hunting for it in the first place. As for the bow itself, no witness our office obtained statements from ever mentioned anything that would tell me they saw magic. There were no fireballs, no puffs of smoke, no lightning bolts arcing from the bow to vanquish your enemies. It was just you, firing arrows.”
“The magic doesn’t work like that,” Jonathan said. “It let me see troll life force whether through objects or in the dark, and it helped me aim for their hearts.”
“Ah, so to be clear, the bow had magic that only you could see or use, is that it?”
“The Kigyo King trusted me with the bow. I wasn’t allowed to give it to anyone else.”
“And you only do what you’re allowed to do?” Morgan pressed. “Then why go into Tanglewood Forest with forged papers?”
Jonathan stiffened.
“Oh, sorry, sorry, I said I wouldn’t ask about that place anymore.”
“What are you getting at?” Jonathan said, tired of the game.
“That you’re a fanciful youth who tells tall tales and dreams of finding treasure,” Morgan said, placing a special emphasis on the word ‘youth.’ “Where is the bow now?”
“It’s destroyed,” Jonathan replied.
“Convenient,” Morgan commented, moving once more to her feet and continuing her calm, almost playful pacing behind the desk.
She is really enjoying this, Jonathan thought to himself, his dislike for the girl growing by the minute.
“So anyone who could prove your side of the story is either dead, or can’t actually attest to seeing the magic because it only worked for you,” Morgan asked.
“Sami believed me!” Jonathan blurted out. “He recognized the bow as soon as he saw it!”
“Sami?” Morgan asked. “Ah yes, you mean the soldier you murdered south of the wall?”
“WHAT!?” Jonathan tried to lunge at her, but the chains held him in his seat. “Sami was my friend! The fort collapsed around us and sank into the swamp. I couldn’t have caused that!”
“You sure you didn’t help him trip?” Morgan asked. “After all, it was a treacherous old ruin from what I gather, and just teeming with nasty creatures that would tear apart a grown man with only a couple bites.”
“Khefir drag your pathetic soul down to Hammenfein!” Jonathan shouted.
“You see, I would ask Miranda and Rourke about the incident but… oh yes, they’re dead.”
Jonathan squirmed in his seat, the chains rattling as his body ached to be let loose, but there was nothing he could do.
“While we’re on the subject of things you claim to have done, let’s talk about the troll king.”
“If I didn’t kill the troll king, then why did the wars stop?” Jonathan quipped.
Morgan smiled and tilted her head to the side. “It isn’t so much the troll king I have a problem with, though I do say I find the account of how you got into his lair and killed him to be a tad bit… excessive in its fanciful detail. No, the problem I have is the notion that some super troll giant emerged afterward and could only be put down by the incomparable Haymaker brothers.”
“That’s how it happened,” Jonathan said.
“And again, I am at a disadvantage in terms of witnesses. I am quite sure your brother will support your story, but no one else has seen any proof of this giant troll, and there are no historical records that indicate such a creature has ever existed anywhere in the known world. The only others who supported your story are now all dead.”
“What are you saying? You think we made it all up to become heroes? You think we just luckily made the wars stop at the same time?”
“No, no, nothing so bold as that. I love a good conspiracy as much as the next inquisitor, but that would be a feat beyond your capabilities. I’m suggesting that whatever really happened down there, you embellished, used the opportunity to gain trust, prestige, and power. Then, seeing a new opportunity in Tanglewood Forest, you used those advantages to enrich yourself – or are you going to deny that upon your return from Tanglewood Forest you had more gold than several noble families put together?”
“That isn’t what happened,” Jonathan said.
“Isn’t it?” Morgan replied. “I’m willing to believe that you had no knowledge Captain Ziegler was going after the Astral Crystal, but if you think for one second that I believe you are not some opportunistic fortune seeker, then you are mistaken.”
“Then you’re a fool!” Jonathan said. Jonathan snorted
and shook his head, wishing he could be anywhere but in this room.
Morgan returned to her seat, made a few notes on her papers, surely taking her time to annoy Jonathan, and then shifted as though getting comfortable and began her questioning again in a perfectly polite tone as though the conversation had only just begun.
“You claimed to have found yet another magical bow on your foray into Tanglewood Forest, is that true?”
“I did,” Jonathan said.
“Are magical bows all you ever manage to find on your adventure? Couldn’t come up with something more original?” Morgan asked innocently.
“I’m not making this up.”
“All right, then tell me, what did the bow do?”
Jonathan looked at her and sighed heavily. “It’s unbreakable,” he said.
“That’s it?” Morgan asked. “Are most bows abnormally breakable, or do you simply have a knack for breaking them? Because I don’t see a real need to waste a magical enchantment on such a spell.”
“It also helped me see a…vision…of sorts,” Jonathan said as he thought of Jaeger.
Morgan smiled. “Anyone else see the vision?”
Jonathan remained silent.
“Didn’t think so.” She made a note on her paper and then shrugged. “Tell me about Myrskyn,” she said.
“Myrskyn?”
Morgan glanced to Orin, who only smiled back at her. “Myrskyn, it’s the sword that Tray Maloy claimed belonged to Lysander, one of Icadion’s sons.”
“I know what Myrskyn is, I’m just not sure why you want to know about it,” Jonathan said.
“I want to understand the truth, and you have a talent for stretching it.”
“It commands fire and lightning,” Jonathan said. “Captain Ziegler used it, I saw it. So write that down as an official witness statement testifying to the fact that Captian Ziegler was telling the truth.”
Morgan smiled. “Very well.” Morgan looked to Orin and he nodded, then she turned toward the door. “Guard!”
The door opened and the guard poked his head inside. “Yes, Miss Turgin?”
“Bring me the box.”
The guard disappeared from view and then returned with a long wooden box. He closed the door and brought the box to Orin.
“Release his hands so he can open this box,” Orin said.
Morgan cocked her head to the side and looked at Orin. “I thought you were going to open it,” she said.
Orin shrugged. “This will be more interesting.”
Morgan shifted in her seat while the guard dutifully unlocked the shackles around Jonathan’s wrists. The sudden urge to reach out and repay her for the slaps was very difficult to subdue, but he managed. Barely.
“Captain Ziegler sent this to you using a fraudulent courier, and I want to know what’s inside,” Orin said.
Jonathan took the box. “How do I know it’s from him, and not some trap the two of you set up?”
“Open it, and you tell me what you think,” Orin said.
Jonathan shook his head and went to work untying the cords and opening the latches. He flipped open the lid and stared down in disbelief. The guard nearby drew his weapon, but Orin patted the air and told the guard to stand down.
“Why would he send you that?” Orin asked.
“It’s Myrskyn,” Jonathan said breathlessly. “This…is Myrskyn.” He turned his gaze toward Morgan. “Is this why you wanted to know what it does? You could have just used the magic yourself.”
Orin stood up and dragged his chair back, motioning for Morgan and the guard to move next to the door. “All right. So now is your chance to prove everything,” Orin said.
“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked.
“As we all know, Myrskyn was fashioned for Icadion’s son, Lysander.”
“I know whose sword this is,” Jonathan said. “I’m telling you, this is Myrskyn. I saw Captain Ziegler wield it in our final battle against Brykith. Without this sword, there’s no telling what kind of devastation that elf would have wrought.”
“Prove it,” Orin said.
“Sir, this isn’t a good idea,” Morgan said.
The guard still had his hand still firmly around the handle of his own sword.
“It’s all right,” Orin said, patting the air once more. “Go on, Jonathan. Draw the sword and use its magic to set yourself free, or, if you prefer a target not so close to your own body, then destroy Morgan’s chair with a fireball, or a bolt of lightning. Show us you speak the truth.”
The anger and frustration that had been building inside of him during the interrogation were still at the forefront of Jonathan’s mind. It was a surprising turn of events that he now had both free hands and a weapon. It occurred to him that perhaps Morgan and Orin’s plan all along had been to bait him into a situation that would allow them to convict him despite their other accusations being impossible to prove. He took a deep breath, glanced to the guard and then back to Orin. “If I do this, you will believe me?”
Orin nodded. “I want to see the proof. You show me that this is Myrskyn, as you claim, and I shall believe that your mission in Tanglewood Forest was honest. If you fail, then nothing you say will sway my decision.”
Jonathan shrugged. “I’ll attack the chair.”
“Don’t try anything funny,” the guard warned.
Jonathan gripped Myrskyn in his hands. He stared down at the precious blade. How had Captain Ziegler summoned the magic? Had he simply swung the weapon and it obeyed his thoughts, or was there some incantation he was supposed to speak first? All he could do was hope that something happened for Orin to see.
The young man let out a yell and chopped down at the chair. The blade hacked through the wood easily, but there was no fire, and no lightning. The chair fell over to the ground, but there was no proof of anything magical.
“Are you certain you are holding the same blade?” Morgan asked, apparently having regained her courage.
“I know I am!” Jonathan replied. “I know this sword. Maybe there is a magic word, or something.”
“Is that how the magic bow worked that was given to you by the Kigyo king?” Morgan asked.
Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. “No.”
“And so here, without any proof whatsoever, you want me to believe that you found not only Myrskyn, but Kigabané, as well as another magical bow in Tanglewood Forest?”
“It’s all true!” Jonathan declared.
“But you have no proof!” Morgan said forcefully. “You and Captain Ziegler will be exposed for the liars and charlatans you truly are. Your ranks will be stripped and your lands seized. Furthermore, if I find out that you had any knowledge of Tray Maloy’s thefts in the royal offices, then you will be hung for treason against the crown.”
Jonathan shook his head and set the sword back into the box before sitting in his chair once more. “Everything I ever said was true.”
“As I said, you have no proof,” Morgan repeated.
Jonathan folded his arms and then looked up to Orin. “Neither do you,” he said sharply.
“Hold your tongue!” Morgan demanded.
“No, no, let him speak,” Orin said. “What do you mean?” Orin inquired.
“You want me to take your word about Captain Ziegler’s crimes and his fighting in the arena, but I don’t believe you. I know him, and he wouldn’t do those things.”
“He’s dead, and still you protect him?” Orin asked.
“He’s desperate. He knows we have him,” Morgan said.
Jonathan shook his head. “You won’t take my word, and I was there. I know what we saw and did, but you want me to simply accept your word that Captain Ziegler was leading some nefarious double life. I refuse! I demand proof. No, more than that. I offer a chance to acquire proof.”
“You can’t demand anything, you are here to answer our questions, that’s it, and if you think it’s hard now, then just wait until we get to your brother! One of you will crack, and when I find the weakness in yo
ur lies, I will bust everything wide open!” Morgan put in.
Orin held up his hand and smiled as he dragged his chair back toward Jonathan. “What are you suggesting?”
“Orin!” Morgan called out.
Orin shook his head. “I want to hear this.”
“If you are so sure about your allegations, then prove them,” Jonathan said. “Let’s go to Duerbet together, you and me, and let’s find the proof we need, because I know you’re wrong. If, as you say, Captain Ziegler sent this blade to me, then he intended that I do something more than hang it over my mantle as a display piece. There is something going on, and Ziegler needed my help. What if there is so much more to the story that you are missing by running with accusations that are impossible to prove definitively one way or another?”
Orin smiled. “So, if we find your proof, then what? It won’t bring Tray Maloy back from the dead.”
“True, but his name will be cleared. Captain Ziegler deserves to be remembered with honor.”
Orin laughed silently and then held out a hand as if he expected something more. “And then I suppose after that you will demand you and your brother go free instead of being convicted, am I close?”
“No,” Jonathan said forcefully. “My brother goes free now. You leave him alone. You find the proof you claim to have, then you can go ahead and lock me away, but you will never so much as look at my brother. Then, when I prove to you that everything I have said is true, you will not only clear Captain Ziegler’s name and release me, you will publically apologize for this travesty and resign.”
Orin’s smile widened. “I like you,” he said.
“Master Ingbrethsen, you can’t be seriously considering this,” Morgan cut in.
Orin shrugged. “I have seen a lot of things in my time,” he said. Orin turned to Morgan while thumbing at Jonathan. “I don’t believe his account to be true, but I do believe that he does, and that presents a most intriguing riddle, don’t you think?”
“How can you be so sure he isn’t covering everything up?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t smell any fear,” Orin replied.
“Liars don’t show fear,” the guard chimed in.
“When I need the help of a man who has only the brains to carry a sword and barely enough courage to do so unless he is behind palace walls, I will ask for it,” Orin said sharply. He turned back to Jonathan and stared into the young man’s eyes. “It is true that not all liars show fear, but only someone who actually believes his innocence can display the fiery zeal I have seen here today. There is more to this story, and I must know what it is.” The inquisitor clapped his hands together. “Jonathan Haymaker, I will not agree to delivering a public apology, but I can set your brother free as soon as I leave this office.”