Rosomil sat at the table with Aswald, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face. Aswald sat at the side once more with a mug of warm mead in his hands. Looking at the old man, one could think this was just another of many ordinary mornings, but deep down he knew that something was soon going to happen.
Suddenly, the door of the inn was opened, and a courier entered the inn. The young, travel worn man took a careful look around until his eyes met Aswald’s. Immediately, he approached the table and bowed before him.
“I presume you’re Sir Aswald of the Crimson Hand?”, the courier asked cordial.
“That’s right”, he replied. “You arrived here earlier than I anticipated.”
“Thank you, Sire”, he said and bowed again while pulling a leather warped envelope out of his jacket. “I've got the letter right here.”
“Thank you. You can stay for as long as you want here, I’ll see that your expenses are covered.”
“You’re too kind, Sire.”
“You can go now.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Without lingering, the young man left the table and headed to the mayor, who had watched everything from a polite distance.
Rosomil paid him no further attention and turned to Aswald, who had already opened the letter and read it. It was difficult to guess the letter's content based on his expression but Rosomil felt that something within the letter made him grow tense. But before he could ask what this was about, the door to the inn was pushed open once more. Oswin, looking less than pleased, entered the room without further ado, walked to the table and sat down.
At the same time, the mayor’s wife walked over to him and offered him a warm mead as well as something to eat. Thanking her softly, he accepted her offer and stretched his arms above his head.
“Looks bad, Captain”, he finally said, exhausted. “I managed to retrace their steps, but I couldn’t find out what exactly happened.”
“Then tell me, what did you find”, Rosomil said in a low almost dangerous voice, which made Oswin swallow hard for a moment.
“I managed to follow their footsteps to the shore”, he began. “There they seemed to have fought with each other. While I didn’t find any blood, I guess one of them had managed to knock the other out and bring him back to their house. Still, I don’t know how they have managed to leave without one of us noticing.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Is this enough to warrant a search?”, asked Rosomil and slowly turned to Aswald, who had just finished reading the letter.
“No”, he replied and folded it back together. “While suspicious, this could very well just be a squabble among siblings.”
“Then we need to question them”, he insisted. “Oswin, I want you—”
“They won’t be brought here like criminals either”, he interrupted Rosomil, calm yet firm. “They’re under the protection of the bishop themselves and as such we need to show them respect.”
“Respect is earned, not demanded!”
“Rosomil, we’re talking here about our superior. The bishop’s word weights more than your unfounded opinions.”
“They could be the prodigies of the pope and I would persecute them for their crimes!”
“You can only persecute someone guilty of a crime!”
“But they’re hiding important information from us!”
“Rosomil! I order you to sit down! At! Once!”
Trembling of anger, he obeyed and sat back down. In doing so, he looked over at Oswin, who looked like he would prefer to be somewhere else far, far away right now. A moment later, he returned his gaze to Aswald.
“How come they’re suddenly under the protection of the bishop?”, Rosomil asked, crossing his arms.
“It’s written in this letter”, he answered and held it up, so Rosomil could clearly see the wax seal, he had carefully peeled off from one side.
“I don’t intend to bend my knee just because this damnable letter arrived”, murmured Rosomil and clenched his fists so hard the joints cracked. “How come the bishop even wrote it?”
“I did write to the bishop around the time we arrived with a few questions, considering Father Iain and Father Hamish. I was curious as to how and why so young, freshly ordained priests were sent here so far away from the diocese”, Aswald continued stern. “I didn’t expect him to be this clear on the matter. I guess he must’ve heard about you and your tendency to believe in nonhumans. Once we’re back at the headquarters, I will make an inquiry as to how he did manage to gain this knowledge but for now, we have to obey.”
“What else has he written?”
“He just suggested that which I’ve already ordered you to do. To wait until the next new moon, which will be the next night, and catch the murderer redhanded.”
Rosomil swallowed the nasty comment he had at the tip of his tongue and crossed his arms once more. To be ordered to step down and late another murder play out just to get the perpetrators redhanded when all he needed was a proper search and a long and proper questioning drove him insane. This wasn’t at all what it meant to him to be a member of the Crimson Hand.
“Think, Rosomil”, continued Aswald. “Iain and Hamish arrived here after the first murder. And what reason would they have to harm the Selkie population here?”
“That’s what a thorough questioning is for”, he replied sullen.
Aswald sighed and left his reply uncommented. Rosomil was glad he didn’t force the issue. He didn’t know how much longer he could take this before he was going to punch his mentor.
“Give me the letter”, he said, barely keeping from grinding his teeth.
Aswald raised an eyebrow and slowly pocketed the letter.
“I hereby request humbly to be handed this letter pertaining to our active investigation, Master”, Rosomil said with a sigh.
“Request denied”, he replied cold. “You need to work on your manners when angry.”
Fuming, Rosomil took a deep breath and counted to three before letting the air out slowly. He was certainly there ought to be more within the letter, but he had no way of getting it anytime soon, if at all. All left for him to do was to follow Aswald’s orders and hope that his evaluation was well-meaning enough for him to even remain in the status of a knight without being demoted to adept.
