Shadows and Light

He’d captured her and brought her back to the manor house for Master Adolfo to question.
    “It doesn’t matter if the Fae see her or not,” Adolfo said. “Someone will find her, sooner or later. She will serve as a warning to everyone in Sylvalan that even the Fae cannot escape the Inquisitors’ justice.”
    Ubel nodded, still studying the woman. “We’ll cut the bindings around her legs after we reach the Old Place.”
    “There’s no need. She can untie herself once you leave her.”
    Ubel looked at the bindings around the woman’s legs. He looked at the hands Adolfo had pounded with a mallet until all the bones had broken. He smiled. “Very good, Master Adolfo.”
    “But take the spiked bridle when you leave,” Adolfo said. “There’s no point in wasting good workmanship. And,” he added softly, “I have hope that I will need that particular bridle again for another Fae bitch.”
    Out of the corner of his eye, Ubel saw Adolfo shiver, saw the way the older man’s right hand trembled as he brushed it over his head, and knew Adolfo was thinking about the Gatherer. Just as he knew she was the reason the Master Inquisitor hadn’t ventured away from this house since he’d arrived in Sylvalan a few weeks ago to oversee the continued purge of the witches in this land.
    “The barons’ council will meet at the end of next week,” Adolfo said after a moment. “Once you’re rid of the bitch, I want you to take three Inquisitors and ride to Durham. Be alert. Listen well. The procedure we introduced in the spring has been successful in solidifying the eastern barons’ position and their alliance with our own goal to rid the land of magic. Now they have to convince the other barons in Sylvalan to follow their lead. I want to know who is resistant. They will have to be dealt with.”
    And we‘ll walk the streets of Durham pretending to be visitors or merchants from Wolfram, trying to eavesdrop on conversations instead of being able to demand answers from any man, no matter his rank. “Yes, Master Adolfo,” Ubel replied, then regretted saying anything at that moment. Adolfo wouldn’t ignore the surly tone.
    “You have some objection?” Adolfo asked sharply.
    Ubel stiffened; then he turned to face Adolfo. “It insults our great work that we must hide who we are, that we must sneak in and out of the villages here like petty thieves.”

    Adolfo stared at him long enough to make Ubel uneasy. Then he said gently, “Last year, we came to this land as honest men to help the barons eliminate the magic that stood in men’s way. We did our work openly, educated the villagers and peasants alike so that they would understand what vile creatures witches truly are and why other females needed to be disciplined to keep them from being ensnared by the Evil One. Because we did the work openly, good men died, Ubel, including my own nephew. When it was over, I was the only one who was still alive.” His right hand lightly touched his left arm. “And even I, the strongest among us, the Master Inquisitor, the Witch’s Hammer ... even I did not escape untouched. So we must fight in other ways this time. We must be cautious, careful. We must use all our skills to soften the land and the people until they are ready to yield to everything we will teach them. And they will yield, Ubel. They will yield because there will be no turning back. Then men will rule as they were meant to. But until that time comes, I will not trust the lives of my Inquisitors to the assurances of Sylvalan barons. Not again. So, for now, you must cloak your honesty and do the work secretly.”
    Chastened, Ubel looked at the floor. “Yes, Master Adolfo.”
    Adolfo walked to the chamber door. He turned, looked back at Ubel. “Keep me informed—and take care, Ubel. The Fae’s presence in this land makes our work twice as dangerous.”
    Ubel looked up, stood straight and tall, and said fiercely, “We will rid the world of the witches and the Fae.”
    “Yes,” Adolfo replied, giving Ubel a small but approving smile, “we will.”
    Ubel waited until he could no longer hear Adolfo’s footsteps before he turned his attention back to the woman strapped on the table.
    Her hair, dirty and tangled now, was a plain brown, but there were lighter streaks in it that were almost as blond as his own hair. Her eyes were a greener blue than his own eyes, and her face was shaped just differently enough that she would never be considered pretty in the