Chapter 180: Organized Chaos
Arthur stared at the two terrified men lying in the dirt in front of him. He recognized both of them. One was a minor noble from an annoying house that he was forced to bring along in the campaign. The other was one of his servants who joined the army to protect his young master.
The message Void left wasn’t helpful. “They did it.” Gave him no proof or evidence at all.
The large man seemed to know exactly how much trouble he was in, but the lord was an arrogant fop. Accordingly, he was all up in arms about being treated this way.
"Do you know who my father is?" He spat at the retreating godling's back. Arthur didn't fail to notice that he had been completely silent the entire time Void was actually around.
It was quite hilarious, really, watching people deal with the powerful young god. But this time, Arthur couldn't smile. "Lord Zapatos. I would like an explanation."
The young man looked around, not quite realizing where he was. Seeing Arthur looming over him, he scooted back slightly and glared up at the commander before remembering what was going on and schooling his gaze.
“General, it seems like there has been a mistake,” he said in a far more servile tone. The sudden switch made Arthur's skin crawl. As he spoke, the young lord tried to climb to his feet.
Arthur put his foot on the man’s chest and pressed him back down in the dirt. "No, I think you'll be doing just fine down there. So. why did Lord Void see fit to bring you to us?"
The large man was entirely still, as the two guards Arthur had brought with him were keeping a menacing watch over him. Lord Zapatos looked towards his servant with indignation, as if he was expecting the big man to get up and fight off the entire camp for him. His petulant manner returned once more. "I have no idea why it would bring me here in such an undignified manner. I haven't done anything to deserve this."
Arthur noticed that his sidelong glances at the dead body on the ground told a different story.
"Really? Well, then. I wouldn't suppose you have any idea what happened to this young man over here, then. Would you?"
"O-of course not." The Lordling licked his lips and looked around at the surrounding men. "No, I have no idea why Torvald is dead. Probably got into some disagreement with someone he owed money to or something. He was a degenerate gambler, anyway. Did you know that?"
The story was quite unconvincing, but Arthur would need some sort of proof. As much as he would have liked to just have the man taken into custody, he had to go off more evidence than a god dropping him at his feet and disappearing with no explanation.
"Well. Looking at the scene, I did notice that there was a knife wound in this Torvald’s neck. And I can’t help but notice that there is a decent amount of blood on your blade," Arthur mused, indicating the sheath at Zapatos hip. Thin red rivulets traced the top of the sheath and had dripped down its exterior slightly. "It's always a good idea to clean your blades before you put them back in your sheath. I'm surprised your father didn't teach you that."
"My father? Well, I just cut myself, and I put it away before I had a chance to clean it because I was dressing my wound." Lord Zaptos spluttered.
"That blood seems awfully fresh. Could you perhaps show me where you’ve bled so much? Perhaps you need a medic." At this point, the young lordling realized his error and looked frantically around for an out.
"It's noble business. It's none of your concern. You lowly commoners shouldn't even be getting involved! I shouldn't have to explain myself to you. Let me up so I can talk to my father!"
Arthur left the lordling spluttering in the dirt while he turned to his servant. "Perhaps you would like to tell me what happened? I would imagine you might be looking for some protection or clemency after what you did. What happened to Torvald??"
The large servant just stared at him wordlessly. Arthur met his gaze, and a few moments passed before the large man looked away. "Yes, Lord Commander. There was a misunderstanding and tempers ran hot before things got a little unpleasant."
Arthur looked around at the sight. To be fair, there was no indication that that wasn't the actual story, even if he personally doubted it. It was very possible that there could have been an actual fight here, but in that case, it should have been reported immediately. There was no proof that it was premeditated or anything, and the crime scene was left fairly bare. But even this would be enough to take them in and question them further.
For the moment, he ordered his guards to restrain the two for further questioning. The men obligingly marched the pair away to a nearby tent, the lordling complaining all the while. Maybe he would figure out the true story soon.
Arthur sighed and rubbed his head. Well, he was glad he didn't have to engage in a long investigation, at least. It was still going to be a nightmare to get this settled. The political implications alone of a high Duke's son committing murder on campaign would be disastrous. This was something that could potentially spark rebellion or worse.
If it had been a commoner he killed, Arthur probably wouldn't have been able to do more than keep him locked up until they got back to camp or the capital and had a trial. The lordling would have been undoubtedly acquitted, and Arthur probably would have been punished for lack of oversight. But since it was a fellow noble and not necessarily a low ranking noble at that, things had become more complicated.
In some ways, it gave Arthur more leeway, but in others, it meant no matter what he did, someone was going to be unhappy with him. That was okay though. He was used to that.
***
I left my two captives almost immediately, confident that Arthur could take care of them. I had seen enough of interrogations after the last one. As useful as it was to learn more about some of the darker sides of human nature, I didn't really enjoy it. And besides, it should be fairly obvious what's going on.
I didn't think Arthur really needed my help, and cleaning the men’s souls seemed risky. They were dark enough that I feared they might pop like the zombie souls did. So I wasn't about to do that. I did wonder what Arthur had in store for them. I’d have to check in in a little bit. But for now, there were duties to attend to, so I just returned to cleaning the camp.
As I worked my way between the tents, I casually listened in to all the soldier's conversations as I moved past. I knew it wasn't the most polite thing to do, but I really had nothing else to focus on. This level of cleaning barely earned me any experience anymore. It was quite sad, actually.
I did hear some interesting conversations from a few of the tents though. One of them had a trio of men sitting on stools. They gathered around a mat of leather rolled out on the ground, and they were tossing cubes onto the ground in handfuls. Once they settled, they'd look at them, and then they'd make various noises ranging from disappointment to exultation. However, when I got nearer, that all changed.
"Hey, Boris, you better not be using shave dice again!" An angry voice rang out.
"Hey, I never did. I swear!" Another man said defensively.
"Don't give me that. I caught you." Two men were arguing. While a third just leaned in close, staring at the cubes on the mat.
"Give me a little bit of credit," the defensive one said. "If I was cheating, I wouldn't be throwing a handful of sixes every single time. Especially not for five throws. That would just be insane. Do you know what the odds are?"
"Nope. What do I look like? A mathematician? Come on. But it's pretty suspicious, you have to say."
"Well, fine! You toss the dice!"
The cubes were scooped up and handed to the angry man, who tossed them and got a handful of sixes as well.
"See, I told you it was the dice." The defensive man said triumphantly.
"Yeah, that's what I was saying, you moron. You're cheating with shaved dice!"
"But look at them. They're not shaved!"
"Then why is it that when I toss them, they're always landing the same? You toss them, I toss them. It's the dice!"
I started to get a little closer to this conversation. While it didn't seem to have any point, it was certainly energetic, and I could tell that tempers were starting to rise. "Okay, well, then explain how the last time you threw a handful of ones, it was also the dice."
"I swear you're an idiot. Do you not understand how sleight of hand works? Of course you do, you thief. You better give me back my coin, or I'm going to gut you like a fish." The angry man was really angry now, but I didn't understand what seafood had to do with the conversation.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, calm down. Calm down. Sure, sure. Yeah. Something's wrong. I don't mind not keeping the winnings. Just put your knife away," the defensive man said, suddenly seeming a lot more reasonable.
I couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Something about shaved ice and money. It seemed like a bit of a hassle, if you asked me. But, well, I didn't want anyone to get hurt, so I figured I'd stick around to keep an eye on things. It helped that there was a decent amount of cleaning to be done here.
The third man eventually spoke up. "Oh, here, give me them.” He rolled as well. “Okay. One, two, three, four, five, six. That's not all sixes, at least." He rolled them again. "Well… that is strange. I can say that. I think everything's on the up and up, but I'm fairly confident these are the same dice that we’ve been throwing. See? Notice this nick, here. You see that? That's not a shaved die, but that's more like a little bit of damage. So it’s gotta be the same dice as before. I don't think this would be easily duplicated, especially not with either of your two brains."
Even as the other two looked insulted, they both nodded thoughtfully. The smarter man finally came to a point. "Well, something's messing with the dice. This reeks of magic. Let's set it aside for now."
Without another word, they packed up their dice kit and pulled out a deck of cards. Ooh, cards. Cards are much more fun. Solitaire was my favorite.
One of them shuffled and started dealing before the angry man called out something. "By the gods, Boris, not again!"
Then he snatched the deck and flipped through it. It was completely in order. He then shuffled it a few times before checking through it again. He shoved it back in his bag with frustration. "You know what? I’m done. This is just weird. I'm going to bed. Good night, everyone."
The angry man stood up, picked up his coins, and walked away. The other two looked at each other and started packing up as well. Well, I'm just glad that didn't escalate any further. I had to make sure to stay and watch that group for any other future problems. Things seemed awfully tense. And I could imagine someone getting hurt if no one was around to supervise.
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