into the Brew House, but before I got in I saw two men speakin’ in the shadows. I hung back ’til they left. One o’ them was Sergeant Timonas, see, from the witchfinders.’
He hesitated and glanced at Fynner, who gestured for him to keep going. ‘Right, well, the other were an officer, and he bought some dose off of Timonas, gave him money, right in front of me. For more than one person too - brew don’t last too long after it’s cooked, and I reckon Timonas gave him enough for two, maybe three. Before the officer left he told Timonas to make damn sure he was doin’ the next inspection too. The sarge said the schedules had bin worked out right an’ it was all sorted.’
The cardinal leaned forward, his meal forgotten. ‘Did you recognise the officer?’
‘Yes, sir. It were Captain Perforren, the Knight-Cardinal’s adjutant.’
The two priests exchanged a look, then Fynner spoke. ‘You are certain that was what was being discussed? There is no room for confusion or explanation?’
‘No, sir, they was clear enough, an’ I recognised the bottles Timonas gave Perforren - they’re the ones we use for the dose.’
Shanatin fell silent, letting the news sink in. The Order’s laws were specific: all mages within their ranks had to be registered and monitored. A man with ambitions, however, would know any ability as a mage would count against him when it came to promotion - certainly no mage would ever be elected to the Council, and Captain Perforren was aide to the man who had led that Council for years. Corruption, bribery, wilful flouting of the Codex ... these were all breaches of the law, and they added up to a capital offence.
‘They did not mention who the others were?’ Cardinal Eleil asked at last.
Shanatin shook his head.
‘Then we must move cautiously. What is your name, Witchfinder? ’
‘Shanatin, your Grace.’
‘Then, Witchfinder Shanatin, under the Second Investigation Act you are hereby co-opted into the Devout Congress. Add his name to the register of devout, Fynner.’
The chaplain bowed as Cardinal Eleil continued, ‘Shanatin, you will return to your duties and investigate further. Monitor this sergeant and secure a copy of the schedule for the next . . . how long does the dose last?’
‘Up to a fortnight, sir.’
‘Very well, the next three weeks. You will be contacted in the next few days by someone who will act as your liaison from now on. Do nothing that will alert them. This conspiracy may be bigger than we have seen thus far.’
The cardinal’s tone made it clear the meeting was over. Shanatin didn’t seem to notice, but Fynner did and took the witchfinder’s arm, directing him outside again. The chaplain lingered a moment longer in case the cardinal wanted to speak to him further, but he had already returned to his pork. Fynner shrugged and accompanied Shanatin outside.
Once the door was closed Cardinal Eleil sat staring at it a while, slowly chewing the meat while he thought. He was naturally suspicious - a lifetime of the Serian did that to a man, and Witchfinder Shanatin had prickled his paranoia.
‘He’s just the sort I’d use myself,’ he mused, spearing a piece of apple and holding it up to inspect. ‘Simple and stupid, too obviously a fool to be a good ruse, and therein lies his value.’
He ate the apple, enjoying the sensation of the cooked fruit melting inside his mouth.
‘An attempt to discredit the Congress?’ he said eventually before shaking his head. ‘No, surely anyone trying to make us act rashly would take such information to Garash instead. Misdirection perhaps? Have us waste our efforts on the Knight-Cardinal’s men so others find a little more freedom to move?’
He finished the pork, saving the crackling until last. The first piece he tried was overcooked, too solid for his ageing teeth so he sucked the juices off it and discarded it in favour of other bits.
‘There is of course the possibility that the fat cretin is telling the truth,’ he had to admit finally, ‘that he’s stumbled across something and seen a way to profit from it.’
He pushed the plate aside and stood. Immediately something caught his eye, a small glint half-obscured by a chair near the door. Curious, the cardinal tilted his head sideways. It appeared to be a coin, a gold coin, lying on the floor.
‘Where have you come from?’ Eleil asked the coin, rounding the table. ‘Did I not notice you when I came in? I can’t believe Witchfinder Shanatin would