“I won’t let you hold my daughter for a crime she didn’t commit! She felt ill, and asked to go home just after the start of the feast!” Galteir was howling. We’d explained the basics of the situation, leading to the old man trying to take a swing at Jorman. Rolvar had grabbed the irate father and wrestled him back to a bench, but it had been downhill from there. Anglin and Angven had been kept at the hall to bear witness, both swearing that my account of events was true. When mention of an elf came about, the four bound Mer flinched. They were against the wall, under guard.
“Your daughter was witnessed by three honorable men, acting on my orders to apprehend a bandit spy! She admitted to the deed in the presence of no less than four men I trust! Must I have her confess before you again?” The Jarl yelled back. Galteir bit his tongue, not drunk or angry enough to call the Jarl’s housecarl, and thus the Jarl himself, a liar.
“I didn’t think so. Johannes, you were the sole witness to all of the night’s events, from beginning to end. Please, give your account in full.” The Jarl looked to me.
“As you wish, Jarl. Upon leaving your presence, I went to find Angven and Anglin. They were practicing near the edge of town…” I walked through every point carefully, and mostly in full, up to the point that Riga had confessed to working with the bandits. Galteir had stared bloody murder at Hemjar when it came to how Riga had been beaten.
“So there we have it! Your daughter, practicing witchcraft, carrying messages for the men who make victims of my people. She is guilty as an accomplice of banditry at the very least. You know the sentence for such crimes Galteir?” The Jarl spoke loudly, and clearly. Galteir hung his head and muttered.
“I didn’t hear that, speak up when your Jarl asks you a question!” Korir bellowed. Galteirs voice came out as a croak.
“Hanging.” He looked to his daughter, who had withdrawn into herself, all of her fears coming true. The Jarl turned to me.
“As the man most directly effected by her treachery, I would ask your opinion, Johannes. What should become of Riga?” It wasn’t an accurate statement, Angven had nearly been killed, but the Jarl was making a show of it. I cleared my throat.
“Jarl, what I have to say is mercy. Riga is not guilty of anything but a young, foolish mistake. She carried messages for the bandits, yes, but she was tricked into such a position, and threatened into keeping it. She was not a willing participant. It is an old, effective tactic for cultivating information, and it is especially effective against the young, bored, and desperate. Riga met a man in the tavern, who presented himself as needing a simple favor. To deliver a letter, or to speak of the goings on around the town. Is that how you first met one of the bandits Riga?” I looked to the girl. She nodded.
“Your words please, speak it. Is that how you first met one of them?” I asked again.
“Yes, he was wearing a cloak, and the robes of a mage. He asked me to pass along a letter and a book for him, to a friend that would be coming to town in a few days. The book was a spell tome, it talked about conjuring light. He said I could read it for a while, before his friend came to collect it.” She wiped a tear out of her eye. I looked around the room, there was a fair mix of young and middle aged men.
“Would it be wrong for me to assume that almost every child raised in Winterhold has thoughts, desires of learning magic? To harness the amazing power of the wizards that live in that grand college they see every day? I’ve never come to Winterhold before in my life, but it would seem like a normal day dream for the boys and girls shoveling manure and collecting chicken eggs day in, day out.” There were a few nods, the Jarl looked irritated, but he assented to it before speaking.
“True as that may be, how is it relevant?” Jarl Korir asked.
“Riga was a normal girl of Winterhold. When a mage offered to slip her a book about magic, she got to make that dream real. She could never attend the college, it was unseemly, it would reflect poorly on her family. What harm would a bit of secret, late night reading cause? It started with one book about mage lights, but there were more. Weren’t there Riga? The next man told you to keep the book, he had a copy of it already, and as thanks for the letter, he gave you something a bit more advanced. A tome about fire magic? Healing? Maybe the ice spike you nearly ran me through with?” I asked her. She looked uncomfortable.
“It was a tome about fire, and how to use it. I didn’t mean too…” I shushed her, she’d already made my point for me.
“Jarl, they used her, she’s as much a victim of the bandits as anyone else. She was young, naïve and scared of shaming her family. Whoever these bandits are, they have someone smart or several experienced criminals with them. You have a problem with rogue mages don’t you? Necromancers?” Hook, Line…
“Yes, yes there are.” Jarl Korir admitted begrudgingly. Sinker.
“Where better to get a steady flow of corpses than by hiring the local bandits to do your bidding, and helping them to stay one step ahead of the law? You must have sent out some patrols to hunt for bandits after an attack was reported, and you came up empty, didn’t you? I can’t say that I’ve heard of very many literate bandits either. The literate tend to come from good families.” I looked to Jorman. His angry eyes were all the answer I needed.
“So you’d have me forgive this girl of her crimes, because she had no choice? That’s what this comes to?” Jarl Korir asked.
“I’d have you spare her life. Everyone makes mistakes, and there was no way that Riga could have seen the trap coming before she was well ensnared. Killing a young girl won’t do any good. Galteir is a loyal man, he brings in wealth, work, and food to the hold. His son served you with honor. How could you put Olam’s sister to the noose, Galteir’s daughter to death, for being a victim of the same men you seek to destroy?” I ended my argument. It was a dangerous line to take, but it paid off.
“Well put, I admit I had not considered the entire circumstance. Galteir, there will be a punishment for Riga, but her life is not in question. I would have you pay compensation to Angven, Anglin, and Johannes for the risk she put them to during the ambush. Five hundred pieces to each, and you are not to stop giving them work over this. They are not at fault in any way for the actions of your daughter.” Jarl Korir took a stern line. There was a pained crinkle on Galteir’s face, but he nodded.
“It will be done Jarl, I have money coming up from Windhelm with the new year. Thank you Jarl, and thank you Johannes, you’ve now saved both of my children from worse fates.” Galteir gave me a hard look, a mixture of anger and gratitude.
“Justice is blind Galteir. I’m sorry to say, we need Riga for what is next.” I looked to the four elves. Hemjar started forwards. I turned to the Jarl.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Jarl, sir, I’d ask that you let me handle the prisoners.” Hemjar stopped, a snarl forming. Korir looked between us, then turned to Jorman. The pair exchanged a few words.
“They’re yours to question as you see fit. We have a cell below.” The Jarl offered.
“That won’t be needed Jarl. Only one of these elves is guilty. I’d take Rolvar as guard, Riga to help, and I’ll have them in my quarters. If you could put the rest under guard in a different room, there are some things I’d prefer they only hear one at a time.” He nodded, and let me get to work.
The first elf was a dunmer, a courier that was known to Rolvar. I questioned him for a while, asked him about his work, who employed him, about the feast, and then brought Riga in. She didn’t recognize him, and he seemed genuinely confused when I mentioned Merkin and Dark Eye. We put him at a table near the far end of the hall, where Jorman and a few other guards were seated.
The second elf was a particularly annoying Altmer. He was a mage, which didn’t do well for his case, but he confirmed many of the things the Dunmer had said. Riga said that his voice wasn’t the one she’d heard, Rolvar had also mentioned that the other guards had seen the arrogant prick at the feast, ruling him out as suspect.
The other two elves were the same story. They’d cleared every hurdle I’d devised, Riga didn’t recognize them. I was kicking my self by that point, if I’d remembered that I had a wolf, I might have been more careful about passing around the letter. Had I thought of it, I’d have gotten Karliene to give it a sniff before half a dozen people had handled it. I was at the end my rope when the last elf was sat near the guards, then I saw him.
“Malur was it? You’re next.” I beckoned him towards me, rolling with the sudden thought. Malur was a sleazy Dunmer layabout, regardless of being the Jarl’s steward.
“You can’t be serious. I’m the Jarl’s steward!” He scoffed, a hint of outrage in his voice, but a flash of fear in his eyes.
“That’s why it’s all the more important that you come along, can’t have these others thinking the Jarl’s own men are above the law can we? Come on, it’s just a formality.” I gestured for him again, the elf didn’t move, crossing his arms and making an ugly face. He was stalling.
“Malur, you sit drinking my mead and my wine, eating my food, go and answer my investigator's questions when you’re told!” The Jarl boomed. He was looking suspiciously at the Dunmer too.
“Fine! But this is simply ridiculous!” Malur huffed. Rolvar stepped aside to let him into my quarters, where I’d set a chair across from my bed. I took my place on the fur covers, Malur looking disdainful as he got comfortable.
“So, I have a few questions for you. First off, how long have you been Steward of Winterhold?” I asked.
“Several months. The Jarl keeps me around for my connections with the College. Not that a newcomer like you would know.” He sneered. None of the other elves had been as outwardly hostile. Even the Altmer was just a high and mighty prick, not like this. Rolvar, behind the Dunmer, made a funny look.
“What connections are those? Who are you close with at the College?” I asked next.
“What business is it of yours?”
“As the Jarl’s appointed investigator, everything is my business while I’m asking questions. Who are your connections?” I asked again.
“The master wizard.” Malur’s eyes flitted.
“What was his name? For the record, of course.”
“His name is… well he’s a reclusive sort, he doesn’t like to get out much or throw his name around, I’m sorry I can’t tell you that. That’s why I’ve got this job, I can get in to talk with him!” Malur didn’t even know the Master Wizard was a woman, I’d been here for two days and known that, unless there were several.
“Alright, and where were you when the Jarl gave his speech earlier this evening?” Malur looked confident with the question.
“By his side of course, where a Steward ought to be! Really, what kind of questions are these?” The Dunmer shook his head derisively.
“And immediately after? Where were you once people began to come into the hall?” That caught him odd footed for a split second.
“I was seeing to the kitchens, to make sure the servants had everything in hand. It wouldn’t do for the Jarl to be made a fool of if the staff was slacking off.” A good answer if it was true, and one that he should have taken to heart.
“I assume you have witnesses to that?”
“Of course! The kitchen girls all saw me.”
“Good. You seem to be familiar with the kitchen girls, when the first course of the feast was put out, could you tell me which one tripped with the Jarl’s mead horn?” Killshot. Malur stuttered.
“Uh, it was… the blonde girl, with blue eyes, she’s always so clumsy. I’ve warned her to be more careful.” Convenient that he’d just described three of the four kitchen girls, and none of them had spilled the Jarl’s mead.
“Where were you when that happened? Still in the kitchen sorting the cooks out?” I asked my final question. He nodded.
“Of course.”
“Good, just sit here for a moment, I’ve got to get Riga to look you over, then you’ll be free to leave. Thanks.” I stood and walked past Malur, and made a motion to Rolvar to put his hand on his axe. I mouthed the words to the guard.
It’s him.
There was just one last thing to make an airtight case for it. Riga was sitting with her father, as she had between the times she was needed. I came to sit next to her.
“Riga, when the elf handed you that letter, what did he say? When he pushed you.” The girl perked up, I’d only mentioned the two figures being my tip off, not how much I’d seen.
“He said, um, he said ‘You’d better get this to Dawnstar quickly girl, or I’ll have you skinned’ it was something like that.” Riga spoke softly.
“You need to be sure, we’re only going to get one chance at scaring the truth out of him in front of the Jarl.” I made sure she understood why I’d asked.
“I’m sure, that was what he said to me.” I patted Riga on the shoulder and nodded to Galteir.
“We’ll nail this bastard to the wall, promise. Riga, when Malur comes out, I want you to look at him, storm up to him, and say those words back to him. When you see my hand rest on my mace, that’s your signal.” I stood and walked back to where Rolvar could see me. I whistled to get his attention.
“Bring him out here. Malur, just this and we’re finished.” I put my hand on my mace, Riga came to stand beside me for a moment, her face twisting in anger.
“YOU’D BETTER GET THIS TO DAWNSTAR QUICKLY GIRL! OR I’LL HAVE YOU SKINNED!” Riga shouted at the elf, storming up to him. The look on his face was all we needed.
“Rolvar, take him to the cell. Jarl, I thin—” I was distracted by the brief scuffle between Rolvar and the Elf, but wholeheartedly shocked when Riga grabbed Malur’s face with flame-wreathed hands. The Dunmer shrieked, bucking like mad in Rolvar’s hands. I ran to Riga and pulled her off of the elf as Rolvar spun the maimed prisoner away.
“Riga! Damn it, why’d you do that?” I wrestled her back to the table with her father as Jorman and two other guards went to help Rolvar.
“That bastard, I saw his little smile when he thought you were letting him go!” Riga fumed, but stopped struggling when her father put a hand on her arm.
“It isn’t your place to enact the punishment. That’s for the Jarl to decide.” I scolded her. In my own, personal opinion… The Jarl spoke up.
“That was a righteous use of magic. How’d you come to sniff him out Johannes?” Korir had come around behind us. Malur was still howling as the guards hauled him down to the cellar.
“He couldn’t answer my questions, and he lied about where he was after your speech. I’m sure the cooks can confirm that. He also admitted to something I knew didn’t happen. If I’d been torturing him, that sort of confession is worthless, people will say anything to stop the pain. Without a reason to lie about it…” I let my rationale stand on its own. Jarl Korir smirked.
“You’ve done this before. Whoever’s man you were before your memory was lost, I’m sure they’ll miss you sorely. This was great work Johannes, you’ll be rewarded handsomely. Jorman tells me you have some conditions before you take the position fully, but I like what I’ve seen tonight. We can discuss it in the morning.” The Jarl turned away. I looked to Riga.
“Head home, I’ll have one of the guards make sure you get there safely. I’m sorry for what happened with Hemjar.” The girl didn’t quite want to meet my eye.
“Thank you Johannes, you’re a good man. I’ll have your money when the Windhelm order comes.” Galteir answered for his daughter, who was at a loss for words.
“Don’t, I don’t want your money. I’ll say you paid me if anyone asks. The next coin I get from you will be for hides and meat.” I shook my head. Galteir nodded, a thankful smile. The rest of the night was quiet, aside from the occasional, distant howl from the cellar. Malur was getting familiar with Hemjar by the sound of it. I could almost pity the elf. Almost.