Chapter 260: The Inquisitors at Maren (1)

"The last Crown men who came up this road wanted to arrest all of us," Coris Danel said. "They didn’t stay long. You can sit on the bench however long you want."

The two men in black remained standing.

They had arrived at the keep’s gate an hour after dawn, riding tired horses. The Crown’s seal hung from their saddlebags, along with a writ that Danel had already read twice.

The older man was Inquisitor Grane. He had grey hair, broad shoulders, and the patient eyes of someone who had spent thirty years questioning people and waiting for them to make a mistake.

The younger was Inquisitor Varne. She was thin, quiet, and had already started taking notes.

The Crown had sent them to investigate three things.

Had the Strategist of the Wall abandoned an imperial fortress without permission?

Had he worked with the Revolutionary Army, as the Crown now claimed Wilm Trask had?

And where had the power he displayed on the Span come from? A fourth son of a noble house should not have possessed such strength.

There was also a fourth question written in smaller letters at the bottom of the writ.

Had he obtained that power from something that was not human?

Danel had read that part many times.

"We’ll start with the records," Grane said. "Whatever you managed to save."

"Then you’ll need Vess."

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Steward Vess received the two inquisitors in the granary. Stacks of ledgers filled the room, some of them piled higher than his head.

"The minutes of the Wall Council," he said, placing a thick bundle on the table. The pages were stained with water, and the edges had begun to curl. "Every meeting from the last nineteen years. I packed these before I packed my own clothes. My clothes have yet to forgive me."

Grane untied the bundle and began reading.

He took his time and examined every page. Varne sat beside him, writing down the page numbers whenever Grane stopped to read something more carefully.

For nearly an hour, nobody spoke.

Then Grane stopped at a particular page.

"The meeting where the Fourth Son of Gannon was appointed Strategist. Who voted for him?"

"The names are written there," Vess replied.

"I can read, Steward. I’m asking you to tell me."

Vess folded his ink-stained hands. "The Council voted, and he received the majority. Just as the record says."

Grane turned the page toward them and placed his finger on one name.

’Wilm Trask of the Sixth Watch. In Favor.’

"The Crown has declared this man an agent of the Revolutionary Army," Grane said. "He is also the man who opened your Center Gate. And he voted to make the fourth young master a member of the Council."

He looked up at Vess.

"You must admit that is interesting."

"So did several others," Danel said from the doorway. "Including me. Does that make me a rebel too, Inquisitor?"

"I haven’t decided yet."

"Let me know when you do."

Grane returned to the records without answering. Varne’s pen stopped for a brief moment before he continued writing.

"Next, I want a list of everything brought out of the Wall that belongs to the Crown," Grane said.

Vess already had the list prepared. He read it aloud in the same tone someone might use to recite a shopping list.

Weapons. Armour. Watch banners. Tools. Records of the grain stores.

Then he reached the final entry.

"The Vault. Eleven sealed chests."

Grane looked up.

"The Wall’s Vault? The one said to contain the relics?"

"Yes."

"Two hundred years of Roamer cores and recovered artifacts, stored underground while the Wall was under siege." Grane leaned forward. "You had all those items, yet you didn’t use them. Why? Some of those relics might have helped you defend the Wall."

Vess glanced at Danel.

The Acting Lord Commander stepped away from the doorway and took a seat across from Grane.

"Because of the Charter," he said. "The Vault can only be opened with the Lord Commander’s insignia. Commander Vance took it with him when he went to face the Elder. By the time the insignia returned, there was little hope left of defending the Wall."

He paused.

"Besides, most of the relics have never been identified. A hundred years ago, a Lord Commander opened a chest at random because he wanted to see what was inside. He lost his hand up to the wrist."

Danel delivered this with the calmness of a man recounting an old barracks story.

"Since then, nobody has been willing to take that risk. The siege lasted nine days. We were holding Council meetings on a parapet while an Elder approached our walls. We barely had time to keep people alive, let alone test unknown relics."

"And the Roamer cores?"

"Most were sold a year ago to buy grain. Grain kept eleven thousand people alive. The cores couldn’t do that."

Grane set his pen down.

"Then how were the chests packed if the insignia was required to open the Vault?"

For the first time, Danel’s expression changed. His jaw tightened.

"Commander Vance took the insignia into the forest when he went to fight the Elder. He did not make it back alive. Rael of the Gleaning brought his body back across the killing ground. The insignia was still on him."

He fell silent for a moment.

"I used it once. On the last day."

"What did you use it for?"

"To give one final order. Pack the Vault and leave nothing behind for whoever comes after us."

Nobody spoke for a moment.

Grane looked down at the list, then back at Danel.

"Those chests belong to the Crown. All eleven must be handed over to the Inquisition."

There was a brief silence and Danel’s expression turned sour.

"They belong to the Wall, Inquisitor."

"The Wall no longer exists, Acting Lord Commander."

"Eight thousand of its people are standing outside that door," Danel replied. "Go and ask them whether the Wall still exists."

Grane held his gaze for several seconds. Danel stared back at him - meeting his gaze.

After some time, Grane picked up his pen and returned to the records.

"Very well," he said. "Let’s discuss the other items."

But he had not forgotten the eleven chests.

Neither had Danel.

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