Quester amongst the flowers 12

 

Chapter 12

 

“You girls are dismissed,” said Quester. “Find Purity and have her report to me as a chaperone; Mr. Hawlus, perhaps you will join me behind your desk as Principal and representative in loco parentis for Miz Stayvuhsanta. Burdock, pray have Miz Stayvuhsanta brought here. She has a maid with her for her countenance, whose duties end at the door of this office, once Purity is here.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Kiliana, most submissively. She peeped up at him under her lashes.

“Oh, be about your business, do,” said Quester.

They exited.

“He fancies you,” said Jessica. “Do you fancy him? If not, I could.”

“He’s mine,” said Kiliana. “I just have to convince him of that.”

“Oh, like that, is it?”

“He sees himself as my guardian,” said Kiliana. “Oh, there’s Purity. Purity, he wants you as a chaperone in the office.”

“What about the two I locked in this classroom?” asked Purity.

“Where are they going to go?” shrugged Kiliana. “You should offer them escort to the lavatory before locking them up again.”

Purity nodded, and unlocked the door to do so.

“What do we do now?” asked Jessica.

“Go to whichever lesson we were scheduled for, I suppose,” said Kiliana.

“Botanical drawing,” said Jessica.

The school had resumed its normal timetable, a little late, but the girls reached the class after everyone else was already drawing hellebore flowers.

“Ah, sweet Jasmine, and the new girl,” said Mr. Cartius. He had dark good looks, brooding eyes of piercing blue, and a handsome, regular face.

“It’s Jessica, sir, there was a mistake on my enrolment form,” said Jessica, with an edge. “This is Kerria Leonida Antilla, sir.”

“I trust you did not have too great an ordeal with the justiciar,” said Cartius.  “Jasmine, a summer flower, but there is a winter jasmine, less showy and less perfumed, alas, but a sign of incipient spring; and in early springtime, Kerria will come into its own, with bright petals.” He looked at Kiliana and seemed almost to see her for the first time. “Bright, golden petals,” he added. “Not masquerading as a lily or a rose.”

Kiliana felt a shudder along her spine. 

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” she quoted from the fragmentary tale of the ancient writer, Willum Shaker.

“Why, so it would, my dear,” said Cartius.

The girls went to sit down and to begin the meticulous task of measuring to draw their bloom exactly.

“Flirting with Cartius won’t get you anywhere,” hissed Lutsilla.

“Flirting? Who’d want to flirt with him?” asked Kiliana, incredulously.

“Oh, puh-lease! He’s the best looking live one we have,” said Lutsilla.

“Really? Not to my taste,” said Kiliana. “But I object to having my effulgent mane so disparaged.”

As Lutsilla had no idea what ‘effulgent’ meant, she subsided.

 

 

oOoOo

 

Purity met Burdock at the door with a squealing, protesting Ambria, and a maidservant with a red handmark on her face.

“Did the prisoner do that to you, miz?” asked Purity.

The maid flushed.

“Yes, Ma’am, she was angry,” she said.

“What bad manners to take out her anger on an underling,” said Purity. “It’s plain she’s no lady.”

“You shout your filthy mouth, you animal!” yelled Ambria.

“If I was you, I’d show respect to judiciary officers,” said Purity.

“She jus’ plain stupid,” said Burdock. He marched her in. “Miz Stray-Vagrant, sah,” he said, dropping the girl to the ground in front of Quester, and moving to stand by the door.

“You can’t do this! I demand to see Miz Rubia!” cried Ambria. “Don’t let that stupid oaf call me that, my name is Miz Stayvuhsanta.”

“Little girl, stop being tiresome, or I may have to ask my assistant to reason with you with a few strokes of the cane,” said Quester. “Your name is of little moment to me, after all.”

“But... but you can’t! And I need a chaperone!”

“You have an adequate chaperone in my assistant, Purity,” said Quester. “I fired Miz Rubia as inadequate; your principal is Mr. Hawlus, here to see to your rights as a minor. And if a prisoner cannot behave, minimal corporal punishment is permitted as correction, though you are not old enough to be put to the question yet.”

“You can’t make me have an animal as a chaperone!” wailed Ambria.

“There are no animals in here, save possibly a screeching parrot,” said Quester, dispassionately. “I prefer not to have to beat her, Purity, can you set up a cold environment in the cell, and remove her clothing? You can bring her prisoner’s overalls for when I attempt again to question her. A couple of hours in the cold might cool her nasty temper.”

“You... you cannot!” cried Ambria.

“Little girl, I am a Justiciar. There is very little I cannot do. I can waive the custom of not employing torture on those under eighteen if I feel I need to do so to reach the reasons behind your extraordinary behaviour,” said Quester. “I am sorry for you, because you have not been taught how to behave, but sorry for you or not, I must find out the depth of heresy in society, and stamp it out.” He shook his head. “Poor, unhappy child, how your parents have failed you; and how hated you will be, even by those who sycophantically follow your lead, if you are permitted to continue on this path.”

Ambria started screaming incoherently. Quester touched Purity’s thoughts with a suggestion, and the Unchosen woman picked Ambria up, laid her down on the desk, and gave her a hearty spanking. Soon Ambria was sobbing in earnest.

“Sit down and get yourself under control,” said Quester. “We have wasted enough time with your foolish histrionics. Be aware that every time you insult one of my staff or start screeching, you will receive another spanking; a mild enough punishment. If I sent you to a correctional institution, you would receive far worse. I want information, however; your personal correction is currently secondary to that.”

Ambria was terrified. She had literally not believed that anyone could do anything nasty to her; and Mr. Hawlus was sitting there permitting it.

“Make him go away!” she said to Hawlus.

“My dear child, I have no more power to do that than do your parents, or indeed, anyone. A Justiciar outranks anyone in the Empire,” said Hawlus. “Moreover, I believe he has your good at heart; you are a recalcitrant child, and your mockery of the god-hero is blatant and terrible, and it has caught up with you.  If I had been allowed to use more discipline on you girls by Miz Rubia, perhaps you would not be here now. I suggest you are honest with the Justiciar, and entirely open.”

Ambria gaped; and then she sobbed, heartfelt sobs of anguish, pain, fear, and helplessness.

Quester gave her a few moments, and then handed her a box of tissues to mop her eyes and nose.

“When did you feel a need to start mocking those who pray?” he asked, gently enough.

Ambria stared at him.

“Well, it’s what people do,” she said.

“Hardly,” said Quester, “Or it would not be considered as heresy, would it?  Or are you saying that this is the exemplar of your parents and their social set?”

“Well, yes,” said Ambria. “I mean, they go along with it in public life, but they laugh about it at home. What’s the harm in it? There is no god-hero, he’s just a construct to control the peasantry, invented by Congress, isn’t he?”

She looked frightened to occasion a gasp of horror from all present.

“Oh, you poor child,” said Quester. “Never to have known the touch of love of the Blessed Abe... and I suspect to have had precious little love in your life from loveless parents.”

“My parents love me very much! They will give me anything!”

“Except the hope of immortality in the love of the Blessed Abe... and in giving you their time,” said Quester. “How often do you get cuddles?”

“Cuddles are for babies,” said Ambria.

Purity picked her up again, and Ambria froze in terror; but the giant woman sat the girl on her lap and gave her a cuddle.

Ambria burst into tears again.

Quester took her hand.

“You must be very unhappy to feel that the only way to act was to attack others. What were you afraid of?” he asked.

“I need to be noticed! Nobody realises I am smart, and it’s no point showing it, anyway! Only by being noticed by being beautiful and daring, and by making sure anyone who has a chance of stealing my thunder is put down, and kept there.”

“Oh, you poor child,” said Quester, sadly. “You have no idea that there is room for all to shine in their own way, because the Blessed Abe loves all equally. I am going to make you a ward of the court; and I think you need to learn love from the best of the best. I am going to send you to be the personal servant of one of the best men I know, and one who has no sexual urges, so you need not fear; Lukas, the Psion Martial of the Winged Hussars. His gentle faith will teach you a great deal, and he will not neglect your schooling, either.”

“Wot did Lukas do to you, me lud?” said Burdock, reproachfully.

“This school needs the ringleader of heresy to be removed, Burdock; she has been let down badly by her family, and needs to be in a safe, controlled environment away from their damaging influence,” said Quester. “Yes, Lukas will not necessarily thank me, but he is a man of stern duty. And I will not see the child handed into the dubious care of those who would try to beat the heresy out of her, or execute her out of hand for it. She has a chance to learn, and to grow, and to discard the heresy trained into her. I hate the idea of wholesale execution.”

“You are merciful, my lord, and I hope Ambria understands this,” said Hawlus.

“I expect she hates me intensely,” said Quester. “I have shaken up her world view. I have been hated before; so long as she has a chance at the love of Abe, that is immaterial.”

“There are those who would have her shot out of hand, are there not?” said Hawlus.

“Alas, some of my brethren are limited in their imagination,” sighed Quester.  “I have asked if the Angels have finished with pirates and slavers if I can borrow them to aid me in mopping up this whole society nest of traitors and heretics.”

“Are you going to execute my parents?” asked Ambria.

“I don’t know. Quite probably,” said Quester. “And I dare say you will hate me for that, as well.”

“I don’t know how I feel,” said Ambria, bewildered. “But I don’t want to be a servant, I am well-born, and I can expect to make a good marriage.”

“If you threw yourself about at any husband the way you have here, he’d probably beat you,” said Purity, dryly. “You’ll learn a lot and then come back to make your come-out.  We are all servants of the Blessed Abe, including the Justiciar, it is not a demeaning position but one of honour.”

“Indeed,” said Quester. “Can she be sequestered?”

“There are isolation wards in the school hospital,” said Hawlus.

“Then perhaps you and Purity would take her there,” said Quester. “I fancy her sycophants will fall into line, and you will be able to instruct them without my aid.  Though, I am available if you need me,” he added.

“Thank you, my lord,” said Hawlus.

 

Quester sighed, and wished that so many complications had not arisen from the task of seeking a deviant killer of girls. But he must turn aside to root out heresy before it struck at the heart of the Empire from those who might be considered the Empire’s life blood. If Patricians were to be infected with the heresy of atheism, it would strike at the whole foundation of the Empire, and would cause untold damage to the very structure of what kept free mankind together.

 

oOoOo

 

Mr. Cartius ripped Kiliana’s drawing in half.

“Can’t even manage a Christmas rose! You are useless!  Detention Jonbrusday night!”

“It wasn’t bad, sir,” said Jessica. “Kerria’s had no instruction before, she was trying hard.”

“She is certainly trying,” sneered Cartius. “She’s nothing but a fake!”

“What on earth do you mean?” demanded Kiliana, horrified.

“You’re at school under false pretenses! You don’t want to learn, you just want to muck about, and flirt with your long hair flicked over your shoulder to make men look at you!”

His mind screamed, you look like Rosa, but you are not Rosa, I will punish you so hard for that! I will arrange you in the rose arbour, tied tightly against the thorns, twisted like a rambling rose stem!

 “How did you arrange Hortensia?” asked Kiliana. “You did not tie her against thorns, and she has never been found.”

Cartius giggled.

“Silly little Hydrangea with an archaic name!” he said. “They didn’t look close enough. She knew Rosa had gone with me, and she thought that we had a love nest. She didn’t know Rosa had turned stupid and coy at the last minute, and made me kill her. She did, you know. She pretended to think that I was going to take her to a flower show, and pretended not to realise that she was the flower who was the star of the show, and that we would make art together as I arranged her, and then took her in different arrangements. The theatrical props in the city theatre made wonderful arrangements, and she was delicious, but she was going to scream, and I just gripped her throat a little bit too hard. I didn’t mean to kill her! I hid her there for a long time, under a cloth, in the wedding dress I got for her, looking like a mannequin, and I went back to her arms when I could.  I killed Selandina to hide the loss of my Rosa, and then Hortensia, and killing her was so good! She’s planted in a vase in the theatre; you need a good big pot for a hydrangea plant, you know.”

“I think that public confession is enough to save you having to be put to the question,” said Kiliana. “Agent of Justiciar Quester; you are under arrest for the murder of eight girls.”

The other girls had stopped any pretence of drawing, and had listened, in horrified thrall, to the complete breakdown of a teacher believed by most of them to be harmless. He went for Kiliana’s throat, and she deftly took one arm and spun him round, bringing it up behind him.

“Abe’s balls!” said Lutsilla. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Miz Jaya,” said Kiliana, crisply, cuffing Cartius. She had relayed everything to Quester, who walked in the door, having not long sent Ambria away.

“Well done, Kiliana,” said Quester.

“His thoughts were spilling over about how I had to be punished for not being his Rosa,” said Kiliana. “All it took was a comment or two, to get him to let it all out. He’s insane, of course.”

“It will be the responsibility of the school to take on his care when he has been made one of the Shackled,” said Quester. “In his case, I can see no alternative, as he needs to repay the school for his depredations on it.”

Kiliana nodded, rather white in the face.

Quester laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you able to carry on, whilst we sort out this unexpected heresy problem?” he asked.

Kiliana nodded.

“As my cover is blown, do you think I should resume formal clothes?”

“I was rather hoping that your classmates would maintain your cover, in some gratitude that you have prevented a rape-murderer from fixing on any of them as flowers, to pluck, so you could check out the rest of the staff,” said Quester.

“It’s uncomfortable, having a grown up who is years older than us in the class,” whined Lutsilla.

“Whatever makes you think that my assistant is years older than you?” said Quester. “She’s about half a year older than most of you, and would have been in the class above you had I approved of her learning fripperies like flower arranging, and a little genteel twanging of whatever musical instruments are fashionable.”

Lutsilla subsided.