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41.37% Grimoire / Chapter 12: Dry Well

章節 12: Dry Well

The Manor home erupted at dawn. The cry of a rooster's call could be heard outside as the sun started to peek over the treetops. The maids had only just woken up to start the morning chores and the kitchen hadn't even begun to smell of the baking bread yet.

The startling commotion woke up the house slowly. First calling attention from the staff, and then the few visiting, and finally the Master of the house.

"What is all this fuss so early in the morning!" The Governor boomed as he made his way into the foyer where it seemed the commotion had started. Several maids stood scattered around the room watching as the old butler and two of the house men tried to keep out several townspeople who had shown up at the door.

Gilbert rubbed his eyes as he stepped out into the hallway, meeting Warren at the top of the staircase. "What's going on?" he asked. Warren frowned a bit. "Nothing good," He muttered. The citizens of the capital didn't exactly make it a habit to go barging into the governor's home like this unannounced. While it was illegal for him to train and staff his own forces, there were a small number of the Emperor's men station at the Manor home.

The townspeople were shouting over top of each other, making it hard to be understood. "Enough, everyone be quiet! I can't understand a word anyone is saying!" He commanded. Silence rippled across the front hall with the stern order from Governor Salphus. Warren made his way slowly down the stairs, gilbert trailing behind him.

"You, there," he pointed to a particularly frazzled looking young shopkeep. "Take a breath and slowly tell me what's going on. Why are you all at my front door so blasted early in the morning."

The young man took a deep breath, looking it out slowly, shaking as he did. "D-dead….a-at the bottom of the well in the center of the city. T-their eyes were all missing, nothing but scorched black holes left. Dear Cors, it was horrible!" he started to grow frantic. "Who, boy, who is dead?" He asked.

"Men from the temple," A hard looking elderly farmer piped in. "Three of them at the bottom of the well. We went to check and see if the water had filled it yet and there at the bottom they were. Eyes looked like they'd been burned out, and it looked like they'd been bound with barbed wire."

Gil felt his heart jump into his throat. Priests were dead? In such a grotesque way? He took a few fearful steps back up the stairs, but Warren grabbed his arm. "Don't, it'll look suspicious," he whispered to him. To hell with looking suspicious people were dying! What if they were next?

"My Lord! It has to be witches right? That's who they were here for! And now they turn up dead and disfigured!" The third citizen, an elderly woman asked, starting to grow panicked.

"Enough!" Lord Salphus shouted once again. "Rumors aren't going to do anyone any good right now. Don't go spreading things that have no solid truth to them. Our state has never once had an issue with witches. There has been prosperity and peace since House Salphus took charge, do you think we would let something like this happen?" He asked. There were murmurs across the room.

"Warren," he called, turning around towards his son. Warren nodded, leaving stairs and approaching the group. "Yes Father?" he asked. "Go collect Captain Lee and take six men with you into the city to start figuring out what's going on. If the Temple of Cors shows up you have authority to make sure they don't do anything reckless. Be physical if you have to I will not have this spiral into a fear-filled hunt before we know what's going on. And Gilbert,"

Upon hearing his name the young man froze. "Yes My Lord?" He asked. "Go get dressed and run ahead. If the city guard isn't already there grab them and have them make sure that the secure the area until Warren and the Emperor's men can arrive," he said. Gilbert was unable to move. The last thing he wanted was to get close to those men right now, but the diligent Governor wasn't having any of that. "Go, boy, now!"

Like a pup who had received a command he turned and stumbled up the stairs, running to his room to throw on his clothes as quickly as possible. His heart was beating so hard he felt like it was going to block out everything else with its cacophonous pounding.

Gilbert didn't want to be caught up in this. Nothing but panicked thoughts filled his head. Images of him arriving and the priests already being there, ready to take him away, or demanding that he tell them where Warren was. Or even worse, that the already knew where Warren was. Nothing else shook around in that empty space he called ahead as he made his way towards the center of town. Blast that forsaken book!

*------*

Gil was out of breath when he arrived at the scene. The city guard were already there. He stopped in front of the man who seemed to be in charge and practically vomited out the Governor's orders. The guards began to push people away forcing them to take a few steps back from the well. Gilbert leaned over to catch his breath. As he filled his lungs with refreshed air he noticed small bits of rope hanging out of the well. He knew what was down there, but he was filled with the urge to see it for himself. Like hearing a howl in the middle of the night he let his curiosity get the best of him as he took a few steps forward to look into the depths of the well. He took hold of one of the ropes and peered over the edge.

"You don't want to look down there."

A heavy gloved hand clapped down on to Gil's shoulder. In a ballet of responses, he leaped out of his skin and swung around, releasing the rope and letting it tumble down into the well. The city guard who had seen him groaned a bit when the tail of the rope slithered back into the basin.

"Now we're gonna have to re-rope that one. You shouldn't go around touching things like that," he mumbled. "When did you say Lord Salphus and the Imperial men were getting here?" The guard asked.

"They should be here any minute," Gilbert said, straightening himself out a bit.

"Good because our friends are here," He said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

Attempting to part through the crowd were the remaining priests and their gruff looking companions. They looked solemn, but something about that expression felt deadly. The men who had just been shouting fire into an empty room now had a flame of proof to show people. Now their actions were justified.


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