87th of Dusk, 102
Kael Graves was said to be the perfect Sentinel, the next Jon Drayton. In the academy, he was evaluated as incredibly intelligent, powerful, and dexterous. Add that to his exceptionally tall frame, and the Church was looking at one of their most promising Sentinels. Kael knew his potential and knew his value to the Church. He embodied their values: Sin will lead you to the Darklands, and living virtuously will lead you to the Lightlands. There was nothing he feared more than breaking the law. He would not sin, because sin meant eternal suffering. He would serve the Church and only the Church, since it is all he's known.
So when he entered the Stitch and Saddle for the second time without Marcus, he was set on getting the truth out of Cara Amsat, because allowing sin to prevail would be worse than making a woman relive her trauma. Daren Amsat stood at the counter of the leather goods shop, recognizing Kael from the day previous. "Oh, how can I help you today?" he asked, forcing a smile.
"I would like to speak with your wife. Where is she?" Kael asked, approaching the counter.
Daren looked at the Sentinel as if he was trying to gather courage to speak. "You know, Cara has not been very well since you last spoke to her. I…I believe she is ill." He looked up at Kael, expecting sympathy. Kael kept his gaze empty. "I-maybe…maybe if you could speak to her some other day?"
Who do you think you are? "Shopkeeper, I am not concerned with how your wife is feeling. We are investigating urgent matters." Kael felt the leather pouch lying on the counter to be sold. "I know you understand that we are not here to simply play detective; we believe the Church could have been violated. Tell me where your wife is."
Daren Amsat winced. He opened his mouth to speak, then decided otherwise. He turned around and started up the stairs. "I'll bring her down," he muttered in defeat.
Kael watched the shopkeeper's feet leave his view as he ascended the stairs. The shop door came open. "Papa?" a young voice sounded from behind Kael. The Sentinel turned around. A young boy had wandered into the shop, maybe seven or eight years old. The boy looked at the tall Sentinel in wonder. "Where is my father?" the boy asked.
Kael looked towards the stairs, then back at the child. "Does your father run this store?"
"Yes."
"Your father will come down soon."
The child noticed the golden eye on Kael's cloak, and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you a Sentinel?"
"Yes."
The child's eyes fixed on Kael's blade, sheathed on his waist. "Can I hold your sword?"
"Do not make such foolish requests," Kael said harshly. "A Sentinel will not give their blade to a young boy." Footsteps came down from the stairs. Kael turned around from the child, watching as Daren descended with Cara. The shopkeeper instantly noticed his child standing next to the Sentinel and called him over. The young boy ran over and began speaking with his father. Cara approached the Sentinel. She looked even worse than the day before when they had seen her. Kael gave it no thought.
"Follow me," the Sentinel instructed, and led the way out of the shop. Cara followed.
***
The morning was different than most in Tairos. The rain had slowed to a slight drizzle, and the streets were still foggy from the heavy rain the night previous. The only redeeming factor for such a wet atmosphere was the consistently warm weather. Kael took notice of this change in weather on the way to the Stitch and Saddle, and on the way back to the Maiden's Wing, accompanied by Cara.
When they entered, the common room was much less busy than at night. The innkeeper was speaking to a hooded man at the counter, very quietly. When he saw Kael enter, he immediately rose, and so did the man.
"Ah, Sentinel, how can I help you?" the innkeeper said. The hooded man passed Kael; the Sentinel gave a quick look at the man's face. He had a scar on his left side, passing down his forehead, over his eye, and below.
Kael turned his attention back to the innkeeper. "I need a private room."
"Oh," the innkeeper responded, scanning the area, "will the cellar work?"
The innkeeper led the way downstairs, opened the door to the cellar, and the two entered. The cellar was dimly lit, two candles on each side of the walls being the only light there was. A small table sat in the corner of the room, with two seats. Kael motioned for the secretary to take a seat. She had not spoken once the entire walk to the inn.
When she sat down, Kael took a few steps to his own seat, then stopped. He looked at the woman, weak from clear mental torment. He studied her, and eventually, the woman turned her head to see why he was silent. Kael remained quiet, looking at the woman, waiting for her to speak.
"Why…why did you want to speak again?" she eventually asked, voice withered.
Kael took a deep breath. "When Sentinels are sent on a mission, we treat it with the utmost urgency. We come to root out heresy, solve problems, and correct mistakes regarding the Church. Do you understand how important our jobs are, Secretary?"
"I…yes."
"This is good news to hear." Kael began to pace around the room. "With that in mind, I would like to make one thing clear before we speak. I have no patience for stalling, and if you waste my time like you did yesterday, crying and being unable to speak, I will treat it as an attempt to deter a Sentinel from his duties, and you will be punished." He stopped. They were on opposite sides of the room. "Am I understood?"
She paused briefly. "Yes, Sentinel."
"Was what you told us yesterday the truth?"
"I…yes."
"You are doing it again. If the answer was 'yes', you would not hesitate. I am therefore inclined to believe that there is something more to this than you have told us."
"No, Sentinel, I just…I am sickly."
Kael ignored her cry for help. "Why did Archbishop Heron force himself on you?"
Cara shuddered. "I do not know."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"I do not remember."
"Really? You do not remember?" Kael slowly approached her. Cara began to cry again.
"Please, Sentinel, no more questions," she begged.
"That is fine. I will ask one more question for which I know the answer for certain. If you lie to me, I will have your entire family sent to Evalor for treason. Do you understand?"
Her breathing was rapid and shallow. "I understand."
"Did Archbishop Heron force himself on you?"
"He…he did not."
"So why did you tell us he did?"
"Because"—she sniffled—"because they told me if I did not say it, they would kill my family." Her voice broke at the end.
"Who are they?" Kael demanded.
"I don't know who they are," she cried, "they showed me Father Heron's body and told me I had to say it."
"Where was this?"
"I don't know, I woke up and they were there, and so was Father Heron's body. Then they put me to sleep again. I woke up outside the stables."
Kael blinked. I've forgotten to write. He reached for his satchel,—Cara flinched—pulled out a parchment and an inkwell. He placed them down by the desk and began to write.
"Oh! No, please!" Cara protested. "Please don't write anything down. If they find out…please!"
"These reports will not reach anyone you should fear, Secretary," Kael said. "They are for the Arch-Warden. I'm sure you don't have enemies in Evalor."
Cara sat back, relieved, relatively so. Her eyes were puffy from the constant weeping. Kael finished writing and looked at the disheveled woman. He decided he had enough information. "You may leave."
The secretary stood up. "Please, don't tell anyone else."
"I am going to tell my partner. Him alone. You are excused."
Cara gulped and hurried off. Kael folded up the parchment, returned everything to his satchel, and rose.