Shadow's Work
Thirtieth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
Garin listened to the report from the Spatha, carefully writing down the particulars in his own neat hand. There were some things you should not trust to a scribe no matter how trusted, but which nonetheless had to be delivered in writing just to make sure ones subordinates did not grow too imaginative in execution. He trusted the mold spirits implicitly for all their Gods' lust for vengeance and the bloodletting that had birthed them. He trusted the salikotal less, however, as they were a touch too good at their job, and their job was murder.
Not that there would not be killing in those mountains before the night was done, but it would be best to ensure it was the right killing. A thread left untied could lead to questions and rumors that would be slow indeed to die, and which no assassin's blade, no matter how sharp, could cut.
'Break them up with a touch of enchantment, have the lady and her daughters captured on the way to her kin's keep, and have Lord Vance and his son killed quietly out of sight resisting arrest.'
The High Inquisitor looked down at the lines and briefly wondered if anyone would believe a handful of armsmen could actually meaningfully resist an Inquisition kill team. After all, the Vances wouldn't have any 'loyal' kin left within the Imperium when tomorrow dawned over the Riverlands.
It would work, he decided. Those closest to the matter would have cause to keep their mouths closed so as not to invite further Imperial ire, and those hearing of it in passing would judge that of course the desperate charge of bold knights was enough to cause trouble to 'mere investigators'. That too was perfectly alright. It was no small part of the Inquisition's public façade to be underestimated by those it might be called to deal with.
'Let the molds take the lead in killing,' he added with a flourish to the secret orders. The Old Gods may not get their full taste of Vance blood, but if there was one thing Garin had learned about the first gods Viserys had brought to the Deep, it was that they were a practical sort. Some blood was better than none.
Speaking of gods and their servants... The High Inquisitor vanished, wrapped in his own shadow for a moment and among the shadows of the city he walked. The torches and lanterns of boisterous celebration were pale as march lights this side of the veil, until he came to the Temple of Yss and passed by a way known only to him and a few others, to enter the chambers of the Champion. With a thought, the world around him twisted in a direction that was either up nor down, left nor right, forward nor backwards.
"We have need of your magics, Holy One. A ward against scrying and enchantment for a team heading west."
The serpent moved with the scrape of adamantine hard scales on stone, its great eyes like lanterns in the gloom to Garin's slight. "It shall be done, Shadow."
"Why do you call me that?" Garin asked curiously. He had been called shadow-binder in error and in flattery, shadow-blessed by those who presumed the presence of divinity where there were none, but never just a shadow.
"Because you are the Shadow of
his will, at your best when you fall without sound and without fanfare upon foes soon forgotten," the Herald of Yss replied.
And so it indeed was. By dawn the Vances of Wayfarer's Rest were no more, though Lord Steffon's gooddaughter and his granddaughters were still alive and in custody.
That branch at least of the ancient Andal line had been burned with the flames of ancient wrath. The bodies would be unceremoniously fed into the Flesh Forge in Lys alongside those of dozens of citizens who had simply chosen that as their means of interment. The only place the names Steffon and Karyl would figure would be on an inquisitor's ledger.
What next?
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OOC: I know this is short, but a Garin interlude just felt like it worked here. We have not heard from him in a while and certainly not while doing routine work... especially since the routine involves giant burrowing Flesh-Forged creations, devil assassins and the Champions of Gods. It felt like a nice juxtaposition to show.