‘I told Fletcher when and where the incident allegedly happened. Does that answer your question?’ Arcturus said, staring Charles down. They stood there for a moment, like two wolves vying for supremacy. It was Charles who broke eye-contact first, though he went on the attack as soon as he did.
‘The murder weapon bears the emblem of the Thorsagers, so it could only belong to a male member of the family. Both Othello’s father, Uhtred, and his brother, Atilla, provided alibis for where they were on the night in question. Although Othello is a student at Vocans, the staff there could do no such thing for him. As such, it is quite clear that it was Othello who slaughtered the soldiers.’
The jury examined the object with interest, some whispering to one another. Fletcher knew this wasn’t good.
‘Thank you, Inquisitor Faversham, very compelling. Please bring out the next piece of evidence,’ Rook said, scribbling something down on the paper in front of him.
This time, Charles did not call anyone in. He removed a simple card from a pocket in his uniform, brandishing it high for all to see.
‘This is a membership card for the Anvils. It was found among Fletcher’s belongings after his arrest. We were lucky to find it – his room had been ransacked by a mysterious benefactor,’ Charles said, raising his eyebrows at Arcturus. ‘After watching the last trial and seeing the scroll in the defence’s possession, I think it’s safe to say we know who did it.’
Fletcher felt a twinge of confusion. The card had been given to him a long time ago, on his very first day in Corcillum. He knew little about the Anvils, only that they were a group of humans who were sympathetic to the dwarves and campaigned for their rights.
‘What does that have to do with anything? I was given that two years ago,’ Fletcher said, despite a hiss of frustration from Arcturus.
‘Inquisitors, would you give me a brief recess to speak to my charges?’ Arcturus asked, though this time he didn’t clamp his fingers on Fletcher’s shoulder.
‘Yes, why not?’ Rook said in a cheerful voice. ‘Maybe it will teach young Fletcher to keep his mouth shut. Not that it will matter in the end; it will be shut permanently before the week is out.’
Arcturus bowed stiffly and hunkered down beside Othello and Fletcher, waiting until the room was awash with conversation before he spoke.
‘Fletcher, in the year since you were imprisoned, there have been explosions and attacks on Pinkertons and civilians. Every time, the evidence has pointed to the Anvils.’
Othello grunted loudly, jerking his head.
‘Sorry, Othello. I’ll remove it, but you must promise there will be no more outbursts, from either of you. You’ll have a chance to defend yourselves after the Inquisition has made its case.’
Othello spluttered as the gag was cut.
‘That tasted like a gremlin’s loincloth,’ he gasped, spitting the gag away from him.
‘Why don’t you explain to him the significance of the Anvil card?’ Arcturus said, handing Othello a flask from his hip. Othello took a few deep gulps, then turned to Fletcher.
‘It’s good to see your face, Fletcher. I only wish our reunion was under different circumstances.’ He gripped Fletcher’s arm and drew him closer. ‘There’s a lot that’s happened while you’ve been … away. Tensions between humans and dwarves have never been higher, and it’s all thanks to these supposed attacks by the Anvils. Membership of their organisation is now illegal and many of their leaders have gone into hiding.’
‘Why are the Anvils doing this?’ Fletcher asked. ‘Surely it’s only making things worse?’
‘We believe there is a traitor in the Anvils, the same person who told the Forsyths about the council meeting and got us into this mess in the first place,’ Othello whispered.
Rook cleared his throat.
‘I thought you said “brief”, Captain,’ he said, tapping his wrist.
‘Listen to me, now that I have you together,’ Arcturus whispered, ignoring Rook’s gaze. ‘There’s no time or reason to fabricate a story. You have no knowledge of the events and you will remain silent throughout. Is that understood?’
‘Now, Captain,’ Rook ordered, waving the guards over. Arcturus stepped back, his hands raised in surrender.
‘See, that wasn’t so hard,’ Rook laughed, shooing the guards away. ‘I think the card speaks for itself, wouldn’t you agree?’
Fletcher tried to ignore the nods coming from the jury. Were he and Othello already guilty in their eyes, or was there a chance?
‘Bring in the witness. He will give his testimony and then I shall question the accused,’ Rook ordered, before turning to Arcturus.
‘You may make your defence tomorrow, Captain, but if you wish to put anyone on the stand, he or she must testify today. We will get all the questioning out of the way so we can have a quick verdict in the morning.’