Miranda
The carriage rumbled to a stop in front of the constabulary at the edge of town. When Jaedin followed Marcus out of the carriage, it was into a town had not quite shaken the morning’s mist. Grey blurred the edges of the street.
Erenthia had never been a large or particularly busy town. Crime fell into two categories: serious and not quite so serious. The dividing line between the two was largely dependent on how interesting the crime was; the nature of the crime was of lesser importance. Caught attempting to poison a business rival but only succeed in giving his skin a decidedly orange tinge? Not so serious.
Still, most murders, even the less interesting ones, made it into the serious category.
As a result of this unspoken distinction, the punishment for not so serious crimes took the form of heavy fines, restricted access to local amenities and loss of social privileges. They weren’t punishments so much as penalties for getting caught.
Serious crimes were dealt with swiftly and the often unsightly results quickly swept under the proverbial carpet by either being thrown out of town (alive) or into the nearest open grave pit (dead). Long stays in a prison cell were unheard of.
All of which is to say that the constabulary was a small building that consisted of just three rooms: a small receiving area at the front, currently manned by a young man doing his best to look officious despite the ink smudge on his nose from having taken a nap face-first in the book in front of him, the Constable’s office taking up half of the back-end of the building, and a single closed off room that doubled as a prison cell and town library.
Leaving Marcus at the door, Jaedin approached and tapped the desk in front of the young man. “I’m Jaedin Montrose. I presume the Constable left instructions?”
Unaware of the black smudges on his nose, the young man’s attempt at putting authority into his tone came across as almost comical, “She did. You are to be given…” He glanced at a hastily scrawled note lying under the book in front of him, “…fifteen supervised minutes with the detainee.”
Shaking his head, Jaedin sighed, “Entirely out of the question. As a former student of mine, our conversations must be confidential.” Jaedin looked towards the two doors at the back of the room, “I am sure the Constable was simply in too much of a hurry to get all the details right. I know how understaffed you are – she doesn’t really expect you to leave your personal belongings unwatched just to eavesdrop on a private townsman’s conversations with an old friend.” Jaedin leaned over the desk, fingers touching the spread pages of the book the young man had fallen asleep in, “Especially when said personal belongings include a book of heretical writings on the subject of sex magic.”
Red suffused the cheeks of the young man, “Well…I…” He glanced down at the book and closed it hurriedly, “You are…no doubt correct, Master Jaedin.” The young man looked shaken and unsure. Slowly, he stood up and took a long iron key from the top desk drawer. With several glances over his shoulder at the door to the constabulary, he unlocked the wooden door marked ‘Library’. “The Constable will be back in about twenty minutes…” And the young man clearly did not want to get caught disobeying the woman who kept him employed.
“Not a problem. This won’t take more than five. But one further question. I believe ArchDemnse Henliech is still out of town. Who will be handling the case?”
The young man returned to his desk and leafed through several sheets of parchment. “Demnse….Jacobsen is in town. He has been notified of the case and accepted responsibility for it.
Jaedin stepped around the desk and walked to the unlocked door. “I see. Thank you.” Opening the door, Jaedin stepped into the small cell and closed the door behind him.