Ser Samuel Besten grunted as he rolled out of bed, one hand yanking away the rumpled sheet that was tangled around his legs. A woman's soft moan behind him drew his attention back to the bed, where a naked woman still slept. She seemed to care not that the sheets were pulled away from her bare form, the warm Thalanan summer nights making it almost obligatory of late to shed clothing before bed.
And the fact that this was a brothel, well, it was mandatory.
Besten grumbled at the thought of donning his armor again. His last ten cycles of service to the Sultanate had left many old wounds, and the scars still ached now and again, especially when troubled thoughts brought tension to his muscles.
As he slipped into his undergarments, he spotted a small pouch that had fallen from one of his pockets to the floor. He swiped it up quickly, carefully examining it to make certain nothing had escaped the enclosure. “Half the pouch will allow a few bells before the effect sets in. Emptying the entire pouch should induce seizures and death within minutes.†Those precise instructions were spoken by the one who had placed it in his hands to dispense it.
Considering the circumstances, half the pouch was wise, and drugging the Deneith girl was easy enough. So was planting the vials. But he wondered where the vials had come from. He knew of the contents within, and that it was of Garlean make. It was not an easy thing to come by, concentrated aether poison. He’d seen it in Carteneau. It worked quickly and worked in most deadly ways against anyone with aether reserves.
But if Deneith was guilty, why go through the means of planting evidence? And drugging the girl? These were questions that he had not asked his contact. Not yet anyway. But she was an accused Garlean spy who had a Sultansworn defending her; Sergeant Crofte was advocating for her innocence. And from the look of things, the ex-Sworn may be acquitted if Ser Crofte continued to pursue this case with fervor as she had been.
The thought made Besten angry. Did not the Sergeant understand the countless number of lives that were lost in the battle against the Empire? How could she possibly advocate for any accused Garlean spy? She clearly had not suffered the losses he had to the Empire’s encroachment. His wife and children--all killed in the Calamity. And the fact that this spy was once accepted as one of their own... it burned his blood.
They should have asked me to snap her neck, he thought bitterly. Few would question him for it; fewer still would hate him for it. It would almost be worth the charges he would face. Would Crofte defend me as passionately? He knew the answer to that.
Ser Besten felt staunchly alone but vindicated in his righteous anger. There were others within the Order that detested all things from the Empire as much as he did. But when the girl turned herself in, many started to question their assumption of her guilt. Some snickered that she would not last suns in the gaols, but it has been two weeks and now it seemed that Ser Crofte and Ser Mcbeef’s due diligence in the matter was paying off. The system might actually exonerate Deneith. There were mutterings of how many disbelieved that the justice system would work at all. This was throwing doubts in their face like cold water to burning embers.
But none of them had the conviction to go through the lengths that he was willing, to do what was needed to eliminate yet another Garlean threat. Besten suspected Garleans have been infiltrating Eorzea for some time now, even within their highest ranks. Deneith only proved that the Sultanate was not immune. It would be up to him to drive out the Imperial influence, even if it meant he had to accept other influences to do so.
“Was that not what Ul’Dah was after all? A balanced scale of good and evil to keep things right?†Those were the words that still burned in his mind--the words that convinced him onto this path in the first place. He would do whatever it took to keep the Sultana safe, to stomp out any Imperial corruption within the Sultanate. Even if it meant treachery.
He had just finished buckling his gauntlets when the knock came at the door. The woman on the bed sat up rubbing her eyes. “Are you expecting someone, Sam? You have me for the whole night.†She yawned lazily, not bothering to pull the blanket over her exposed body even as he went to open the door.
A cloaked man stood at the entryway, and he lifted his gaze just enough to meet Samuel's. He held up a badge, one bearing a red gryphon, wings raised against a field of argent. Samuel's eyes widened, recognizing it immediately.
“We should talk,†emerged a gravelly voice from beneath the hood as he lowered his head. Samuel could only see the well trimmed beard that wrapped around the man's chin. He thought he could see a smirk.
Samuel nodded as he glanced back to the woman on the bed. “I need to go,†he simply said, even as she was arching to get a better look at the man at the door. The hooded man did not seem to care for the naked woman on plain display in the room as he turned and disappeared around the corner. Besten hurriedly grabbed his sword and shield and followed him out, mumbling something about the Immortal Flames.
That was the last time that the woman saw Ser Besten alive. His lifeless body was found suns later, half buried in the dirt just outside of Drybone, his abdomen gutted and opened to the sun.
And the fact that this was a brothel, well, it was mandatory.
Besten grumbled at the thought of donning his armor again. His last ten cycles of service to the Sultanate had left many old wounds, and the scars still ached now and again, especially when troubled thoughts brought tension to his muscles.
As he slipped into his undergarments, he spotted a small pouch that had fallen from one of his pockets to the floor. He swiped it up quickly, carefully examining it to make certain nothing had escaped the enclosure. “Half the pouch will allow a few bells before the effect sets in. Emptying the entire pouch should induce seizures and death within minutes.†Those precise instructions were spoken by the one who had placed it in his hands to dispense it.
Considering the circumstances, half the pouch was wise, and drugging the Deneith girl was easy enough. So was planting the vials. But he wondered where the vials had come from. He knew of the contents within, and that it was of Garlean make. It was not an easy thing to come by, concentrated aether poison. He’d seen it in Carteneau. It worked quickly and worked in most deadly ways against anyone with aether reserves.
But if Deneith was guilty, why go through the means of planting evidence? And drugging the girl? These were questions that he had not asked his contact. Not yet anyway. But she was an accused Garlean spy who had a Sultansworn defending her; Sergeant Crofte was advocating for her innocence. And from the look of things, the ex-Sworn may be acquitted if Ser Crofte continued to pursue this case with fervor as she had been.
The thought made Besten angry. Did not the Sergeant understand the countless number of lives that were lost in the battle against the Empire? How could she possibly advocate for any accused Garlean spy? She clearly had not suffered the losses he had to the Empire’s encroachment. His wife and children--all killed in the Calamity. And the fact that this spy was once accepted as one of their own... it burned his blood.
They should have asked me to snap her neck, he thought bitterly. Few would question him for it; fewer still would hate him for it. It would almost be worth the charges he would face. Would Crofte defend me as passionately? He knew the answer to that.
Ser Besten felt staunchly alone but vindicated in his righteous anger. There were others within the Order that detested all things from the Empire as much as he did. But when the girl turned herself in, many started to question their assumption of her guilt. Some snickered that she would not last suns in the gaols, but it has been two weeks and now it seemed that Ser Crofte and Ser Mcbeef’s due diligence in the matter was paying off. The system might actually exonerate Deneith. There were mutterings of how many disbelieved that the justice system would work at all. This was throwing doubts in their face like cold water to burning embers.
But none of them had the conviction to go through the lengths that he was willing, to do what was needed to eliminate yet another Garlean threat. Besten suspected Garleans have been infiltrating Eorzea for some time now, even within their highest ranks. Deneith only proved that the Sultanate was not immune. It would be up to him to drive out the Imperial influence, even if it meant he had to accept other influences to do so.
“Was that not what Ul’Dah was after all? A balanced scale of good and evil to keep things right?†Those were the words that still burned in his mind--the words that convinced him onto this path in the first place. He would do whatever it took to keep the Sultana safe, to stomp out any Imperial corruption within the Sultanate. Even if it meant treachery.
He had just finished buckling his gauntlets when the knock came at the door. The woman on the bed sat up rubbing her eyes. “Are you expecting someone, Sam? You have me for the whole night.†She yawned lazily, not bothering to pull the blanket over her exposed body even as he went to open the door.
A cloaked man stood at the entryway, and he lifted his gaze just enough to meet Samuel's. He held up a badge, one bearing a red gryphon, wings raised against a field of argent. Samuel's eyes widened, recognizing it immediately.
“We should talk,†emerged a gravelly voice from beneath the hood as he lowered his head. Samuel could only see the well trimmed beard that wrapped around the man's chin. He thought he could see a smirk.
Samuel nodded as he glanced back to the woman on the bed. “I need to go,†he simply said, even as she was arching to get a better look at the man at the door. The hooded man did not seem to care for the naked woman on plain display in the room as he turned and disappeared around the corner. Besten hurriedly grabbed his sword and shield and followed him out, mumbling something about the Immortal Flames.
That was the last time that the woman saw Ser Besten alive. His lifeless body was found suns later, half buried in the dirt just outside of Drybone, his abdomen gutted and opened to the sun.
