Cid jutted his lips to the side, occasionally growling softly as he listened to Kveldulf’s recollection of the events at the house. “That is a development, to say the least,” Cid said, nodding slowly.

“We weren’t expecting most of what we found,” said Kveldulf.

“Though now we know where Edmund’s loyalties lie, fucking bastard,” Jeanne followed.

“We’ll attend to that matter soon,” said Cid, turning to Leonidas. “But my immediate question is … why is there a spectral canine in my lap?” Cid then looked down as Puppý nuzzled himself in Cid’s lap.

“He likes you,” Leonidas replied.

Cid let out a heavy exhale. “You’re lucky you’re cute, little one.”

Puppý was silent, having fallen asleep.

“And now I’m stuck, fantastic,” Cid said, shaking his head.

“While you’re stationary,” said Jeanne, “how did you want to proceed with young Edmund?”

“It’s hard not to assume he tried to set us up, though I’m not surprised,” Cid said, trying to find a way to lift the pup up.

“Should we try a more direct approach?”

“I think we should try to wake him up from his stupor, and if he’s resistant, then we’ll do what’s needed,” said Cid.

“I doubt his mother is going to be very appreciative,” said Hypatia.

“No, but he’s not leaving us with many options,” said Cid, “though I’d prefer we not bring him back beaten to a pulp if we can avoid it.”

“Oh,” Jeanne bemoaned.

“If we can avoid it,” Cid repeated. “I wouldn’t mind seeing him take a few love taps, personally.”

Jeanne sported a mischievous smile once again, cracking her knuckles and neck.

“But let’s try and get his side of the story first, before we go breaking bones,” Cid said, slowly lifting Puppý and placing him on the floor. Cid looked at Leonidas and shook his head. “You find the oddest things to meet, doctor.”

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Leonidas said.

***

Jeanne and Kveldulf stood by a corner into an alleyway, watching the home of Edmund and Weuve. It was a thin two-story building, with grey stone lining the outside with a sign for a weaver’s shoppe hanging over the door, and two window positioned above that with its shutters closed. The chimney stuck out on the right side but no smoke could be seen.

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Jeanne scratched the back of her neck as she let out a heavy exhale. “What do you think?” she asked Kveldulf.

“I don’t know,” he said, “but I sure as hell don’t like it.”

“Yeah,” Jeanne said. “You want to pay them a visit then?”

Kveldulf nodded. “Might want to get your hammer out.”

Jeanne already had her weapon in hand, spinning it in her grip. “May want your halberd out just in case, too.”

“A zweihander may be a bit too big for there,” Kveldulf said.

Moving to the house, they both stopped and listened for a moment for any sound before Jeanne knocked on the door. “Weuve,” she said, “It’s Jeanne, just checking to see how you and Edmund are doing?”

She and Kveldulf exchanged glances when they were met with silence.

“Shit,” Jeanne cursed under her breath.

“You remember how to pick locks?” Kveldulf asked.

Jeanne reached in a pulled out two pieces of metal. “We’ll find out soon enough, keep an eye out for any guards.” Carefully inserting both pieces into the lock, she made minute movements, closing her eyes to feel and hear any changes. As a sharp vibration and click came out, she quickly threw them back into her satchel.

She and Kveldulf looked around before she opened the door and moved inside. Inside they found a treadle wheel with a clump of fibers still resting on the bobbin and a small thin thread stretching outwards. Dozens of spools rested on a table near a loom where a large piece of fabric was being woven.

“Doesn’t look like this place was abandoned,” Kveldulf said as he moved about the place cautiously.

“No,” Jeanne said, lifting the corner of a few sheets of fabric before put them down. “I’d even say there was someone here well before …” Her words trailed off as she spotted a pool of dark red liquid on the ground. “… oh fuck,” she said, looking up to find a larger stain of a similar color marking the floorboard above them.

“Oh gods,” Kveldulf said as he and Jeanne bolted up the steps.

Arriving to the second level, they were frozen at the sight of young Edmund, dead and hanging from a simple wooden frame. Much of his skin being threaded on a spinning wheel. Around his was a sign with the single word ‘traitor’ displayed. Flies had begun their macabre feast and the smell struck Jeanne and Kveldulf hard as they found the wretched scene.

Jeanne looked around the room, seeing much of the furniture was untouched. There wasn’t even a layer of dust settling on the wooden pieces and the two beds placed near them had freshly folded sheets. On a table nearby was a tea kettle with two wooden cups partially filled with a spiced brew.

“Well, this is just all kinds of disturbing,” Kveldulf said.

“Agreed,” Jeanne followed. “You think they took Weuve with them?”

“I don’t think you want to know what I think her situation is.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeanne said as she moved to a chest resting at the end of one of the beds. She checked to see if there was a lock on the outside and opened to see a collection of letters inside. Shifting through some, she quickly read through a few. “Huh,” she said aloud as she turned to Kveldulf.

“Take a look at this?”

Kveldulf took the letter and read it closely. “What’s this Cave of St. Medmenham?”

“Local legend stated there was a hermit who lived there. You know the deal, hated most social settings, preferred exceptionally extreme isolation and barest of food and water to sustain himself.”

“Ah, living the dream I see.”

“It is tempting sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“All right, more than sometimes. But I like exploring the world and the excitement of this life.”

“So is this place a location that the flagellants are using?”

“I wouldn’t be that surprised. It’s a fairly extensive cave system and Medmenham was known for flogging himself as a sign of devotion.”

“Lively bunch aren’t they?” Kveldulf asked.

“Some people have a different perspective on how to show their piety.”

“True enough,” Kveldulf said, turning back to Edmund’s corpse. “What should we do about him?”

“We’ll tell the guards we heard some noise here and leave the door open. Hopefully they’ll be honest enough to actually check it out,” Jeanne said, looking at the mutilated corpse with a sorrowful expression.