Chapter 9 #6
For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Tysapherna said, “You first.”
Grimhild smiled. “It’s pretty straightforward,” she said. “These two were caught in the act of setting a fire in staircase seven. My men stopped them.”
Simocatta looked at me, then Svangerd. “Why would they do a thing like that?”
“Oh, it’s not their fault,” Grimhild said. “Until quite recently, the nun was possessed by a devil. When it left her, it possessed the monk. They got it into their heads that the devil is now inside the holy mother here. So they decided to burn it out.”
Another long pause. “Are you telling me they’re mad?”
“Deluded, at any rate. The most likely explanation is that the demon left the idea in their heads after it withdrew, like a fly laying its eggs in an open wound. They can do that. Even if that’s not what’s happened here, it’s often the case that people who’ve been through the unthinkable trauma of demonic possession exhibit extreme behaviour, unless properly cared for and looked after.
It’s one of the things we do at Kouden. We have a lot of experience. ”
Simocatta stroked his chin, or one of them, at least. “So you’re telling me these two aren’t legally responsible.”
“Consider the facts,” Grimhild replied. “I’ve seen their records.
They’re good, effective soldiers in the army of Truth.
They’ve both done good work for Holy Mother Church.
They’ve fought the good fight. Her especially.
I know her. So the only rational explanation is that the demon made her do it.
And I’ve talked to him on a couple of occasions, and I believe he’s a loyal, dedicated servant of the cause and this monastery.
It’s an established principle of law that you can’t blame someone for anything they do when they’ve got one of those things inside them. ”
“Is that right?” Simocatta interrupted.
“Yes, it is. First established in Cordoman versus Edascdar, Florian 6, 42 to 9. Later confirmed—”
“Just a minute.” Simocatta was writing it down. He writes awkwardly, with his elbow at more than ninety degrees to his body. “Cordoman—”
“I’ll send you a copy. While we’re on the subject, it was held in Lutomer’s Case that the master of a possessed man can’t be considered vicariously liable for the acts of his servant.
Likewise, after Stabilius, the same goes for a soldier and his commanding officer.
That’s a court martial, of course, but it’s good law in other jurisdictions, including ecclesiastical. ”
“Thank you.” Simocatta relaxed. “Well, in that case, what do you suggest we do with them? You’re the expert.”
“Remand them to my custody,” Grimhild said. “As I said just now, we know about this sort of thing at Kouden, and we’ve got the facilities. In time, there’s no reason they shouldn’t recover completely and be fit to return to work.”
Clearly Simocatta had his doubts about that, but he nodded. “Fine by me,” he said. “Mother Tysapherna,” he went on. “You’re the intended victim of all this. What do you say?”
I looked at her. She was smiling. “I think that’s a very wise and compassionate decision,” she said.
“Let me just say for the record that I don’t blame you for any of this.
We all know who the real enemy is. And I’d particularly like to thank my sister Grimhild for taking such good care of me.
We all owe her and her team a special debt of gratitude for their diligence and vigilance. ”
I couldn’t see Grimhild’s face from where I was standing when she said that.
Simocatta nodded, and put the stopper back in his inkwell.
“In that case,” he said, “I think we’re all done here.
Staircase seven had better stay sealed off until everything’s been cleaned up, just to be on the safe side.
” He turned in Grimhild’s direction. “Brother castellan will give you anything you need to keep those two secure,” he said.
“Will you be going straight back to Kouden?”
“First thing in the morning.”
“Splendid,” Simocatta said, with feeling. “Chapter is adjourned.”
I was looking at Tysapherna as everybody stood up to leave. She winked at me.
“You two,” Mother Grimhild said. “What in God’s name am I going to do with you?”
Svangerd and I were chained to the rails of a massive lumber wagon, drawn by eight enormous horses.
I could see the rationale. It would’ve taken two men half an hour with a crosscut saw to cut through those rails.
The cuffs on the ends of the chains had been riveted shut by a sleepy-looking farrier before we left the monastery; half-inch rivets, set in countersunk holes.
They’d have to be drilled out when we got to Kouden.
“I meant what I said in chapter,” she went on.
“It wasn’t your fault. You were given a job to do.
No way you could’ve known what was inside that book.
If it’s anyone’s fault it was mine, for not getting rid of the book a long time ago.
But people kept telling me, no, you can’t do that, it’s too difficult, storming Angkola would be an act of war, this, that and the other.
And now—” She shrugged. “You,” she went on, looking at Svangerd, “are more to be pitied than censured, but you” (meaning me) “are starting to get on my nerves. I never imagined you’d do that.
In all my years in the business, I’ve never heard of someone volunteering to host a demon. I’m sorry, but that’s disgusting.”
I’d probably have said something, if my mouth hadn’t been stuffed with sheep’s wool. Not quite sure what I’d have said, but quite possibly something offensive.
“Still,” she went on, “we’ve got to be pragmatic, in our line of work.
I can’t afford to waste good assets simply because they annoy the life out of me.
I think I’ll keep you. Well, you, anyway,” (me again) “and you because the two of you are a set, like a bow and arrow, one fairly useless without the other. I’ll do the paperwork with Simocatta.
He’ll be only too pleased to be shot of you after last night. ”
Absolution? It felt like a slap across the face – which, in imperial times, was how you freed a slave. Of course it had to be the full palm across both cheeks or it didn’t count. Hence, I’ve always assumed, the bit in scripture about turning the other cheek.
Along with the shock came a horrible suspicion; that Grimhild had been on the level all along, and that what Svangerd thought she’d overheard when she believed the demon was asleep was simply what the demon had wanted her to hear.
In which case, I was guilty of stupidity on a level I wouldn’t have believed possible.
The wool tasted of grease and shit, with just a hint of rosemary. I suspect that, despite ferocious competition for the job, I remain my own worst enemy.