Leon pushed aside the door in front of him, nodding slightly at the guards on either side, frozen in salute to him and also Estella, who followed closely behind. With them was Zahra, which he might honestly have preferred to have otherwise, but she was the one with the most knowledge of the matter. And what was at hand was more than a simple breach of security.
Stepping inside the room, he allowed the others to pass before he closed the door behind all three of them. It was a dimly-lit space, just enough light provided to cast deep, eerie shadows. That was his own choice, as a single, out-of-reach light source like the torch on the far wall did tend to instill a sense of unease. On most occasions, a nervous target was more easily-persuaded. Moving to stand so that he blocked the torch from view, he fixed his eyes on the man shackled to the chair in the center of the room, a small table in front of him.
The prisoner in question was seated in the wooden chair, arms bound behind his back. From the looks of it, Garland hadnāt gotten much rest since his imprisonment. Bags hung under his pale blue eyes, though there were no longer any indications of the initial beating heād suffered from Zahra. No bruises. No swelling. Only a healing cut above his eyebrow. A scar. A reminder. Heād been treated with the same sort of indifference a stray dog might have afforded. Though he still appeared mildly disheveled. Quiet. A far cry from the smarmy, bearded carpenter swilling back tankards in the Skyholdās tavern. Guilt may have had something to do with it, coupled with his captainās infrequent, and often, caustic visits.
Leon crossed his arms over his chest. "Espionage is an offense the Inquisition takes very seriously, Serah Langley. If you would be given any latitude in this matter, it would be because you explained, clearly and completely, what you were meant to do, why, for whom, and exactly what information you gave away when." Everything, more or less, irrelevancies omitted.
For a moment, there was silence. It hung in the air, uncomfortable. Garlandās head was lowered and from what little Leon could see from his silhouette, he appeared to be studying something on the ground with great interest. His feet, perhaps. Brown curls hung in front of his face, bereft of fragrant oils, though a sliver of his eyes peeked out when the torches light danced against the wall. āI was trying to make things right for once.ā His voice was gravelly. Worn. As if he hadnāt spoken for awhile. If his visits were anything to go by, it wasnāt all that often.
An answer without justification. Words thrown out easily. He always seemed to have words; used to drive the Heraldās Rest crazy with all his talking. Tall tales, legends and stories. But he had done more than talk this time, and it ended with him here. A gutless spy. The leather of his shackles creaked as he finally tipped his head up towards Leon. His gaze shifted off to the side, where Zahra had stepped off to. She was leaning up against the cobblestone wall, arms crossed over her chest. Her face unreadable, a mask of shadow.
There was a desperate lilt to his voice, as his eyes swung to Stel. Breathless, and wild-eyed. āI knew about it before. Her family. What Faraji had done to themāI knew, but what could I do? There was nothing to be done. Nothing.ā He shook his head like a dog, rattling the chains, āHe was the only one who could help. The only one who would. Heā¦ contacted me after the Maker fiasco with the Herald.ā A harsh exhale sounded. āThis wasnāt supposed to happen this way.ā
There was a sound to Leonās right. A step forward. And another, as if retracing a step backwards. A resigned huff, and nothing more.
Estella looked at Leon, who nodded. If he was trying to appeal to her, then it was a sympathetic ear he wanted. If she could coax his story out of him gently, he could do his best to filter past the parts of it that were artifice or excuse. she wasn't a trained interrogator, but Garland seemed to want an opportunity to tell his story his way, and so she likely wouldn't need to be.
The Lady Inquisitor took the chair across from their prisoner, folding her hands neatly together on the tabletop. "Then how was it supposed to happen?" she asked gently, meeting his eyes steadily as though trying to transmit some of her calm ease with the situation to him. "The he you refer toāwho exactly is that?"
Garlandās shoulders sagged a little when Estella sat across from him. He reeked of relief. The angles of his face softened and the tight line of his lips dragged into a thoughtful frown, though he took another peek in the corner before swinging his gaze back to the table, and Inquisitor. āSmoothly. Like any other contractā¦ like how the Inquisition dealt with things,ā he stared at her through wild curls; blue eyes spilling over with so much desperation and despair, warring with a sudden flood of hope in the wake of being heard. There was a sense that heād kept much of it quiet for a long time, and it had taken its own toll on him.
He seemed to chew at the inside of his lip. Eyes falling away from the Inquisitor, in favor of her hands. The table. A tremble shook his shoulders before he seemed to settle. The torchlight lit up his features, briefly. Eyebrows scrunched together. Lips drawn back over his teeth. Considering his lack of options. His loyalties, perhaps. Only when a grating noise sounded did he snap his head back up. Zahra had shifted her weight once more; patience waning with him. She did, however, seemed to take note of Leonās intentions.
āFarajiās older brother. Corveus Contee. I...ā he exhaled sharply and gave his head another shake, āI didnāt know him like Faraji. We were close, when we were boys. Long before I joined the Riptide crew.ā He left out Zahraās name. He had not tried to sneak another glance either. He only barely lifted his head, imploring Estella with a sincerity he seemed to believe himself. āI wanted to make things right and he said he would help me. He only asked questions in return.ā
Estella nodded slowly, her mannerisms not changing much in spite of the information. Leon wanted to know why Garland had thought it his personal responsibility to make things 'right' in the first place, but he supposed that question was better suited for further down the queue. The priority had to be on the information leak, and this was something Estella clearly recognized as well.
"What questions did he ask you? And did he give any indication why he wanted to know about us?"
āHeā¦ wanted to know about you. The other Inquisitor, Rom. The others, too. What they were like. Some of the things weād done. In detail.ā Garland swallowed thickly and shifted once more, shackles jangling against one another. The sounds in the small chamber seemed amplified. A dreary echo. It was clear he wasnāt sure what to say. How much he should say. He, at least, had the good sense to look guilty. āHe never said why he wanted to know. It wasnāt a part of the deal.ā
There was a pause, before he suddenly looked much more miserable. He finally swung his gaze towards the corner Zahra inhabited. His voice hitched: desperate. āYou have to believe me, I donāt know why. He only told me where they were, said heād help find them. Get them back in one piece.ā
"What we were like? As in our personalities, or our histories...?" Estella didn't quite seem to know what to make of that. Much of that information was more or less a matter of public record at this point, though it hadn't always been. And of course there were always the things that wouldn't qualify: the little particularities and quirks, the parts of themselves they hid. Perhaps those were what the elder Contee had been after, though the end he intended for the information was vexingly absent from the story. Intentionally on Corveus's part, no doubt. Telling your agents only what they absolutely needed to know was standard procedure in espionage.
The Lady Inquisitor sat back in her chair, torchlight illuminating one side of her face and casting the other into deep, soft shadow. It was chased away when she turned to exchange a look with Leonāher body language conveyed her uncertainty well enough. She didn't quite know where to go from there.
So he took up the thread. "Why take up the responsibility in the first place? Why not impart the information you had to Captain Zahra from the beginning and cooperate? Or simply do that and leave?" It smacked of a more personal sort of guiltāespecially if Faraji was indeed a friend. Rare was the person who would work against the interests of a genuine friend out of impartial moral instinct. Rarer still was the one who'd do it like this.
Garland gave a shaky laugh. It held no such amusement and seemed rather deflated as he swung his gaze back towards the Lady Inquisitor. āYes. What you were like, personally. Like he was asking after a friend.ā He didnāt seem to know much else, aside from what heād been asked to divulge. There was a sense that he hadnāt even questioned Contee, as if he were far too focused on the task at hand. His eyebrows had drawn together once more, disconcerted. Shoulders slack and mouth drawn into a fine line.
āI...ā he began and lowered his gaze back towards the floor, āFaraji and I grew up together. He sent me after her. To watch. We never lost contact. I knew what heād done to her family. Iād known for a long time.ā He seemed hesitant to part with anymore information, but as soon as he swung his gaze up, he seemed to find his voice again. Gravelly as it was. āHe changed. He was never so cruel. Once he took his fatherās place, everything changed. I didnāt agree with his methods, but there was nothing I could do.ā
He shuttered his eyes closed and gave his head a shake. āHe went too far. I had to do something. If Iād said anything before...ā The implications were clear. Even Zahra seemed to bristle at Leonās side, fingers gripped into her forearms. In all likelihood, she would have kicked him off the Riptide. Perhaps, done something worse, if heād known all along and refused to part with that information.
None of this was exceptionally useful, but Leon got the sense that Gardland didn't have a lot of useful information. Sent by one brother to do a task, and when it crossed the line for him, defecting to the other who promised him a way out without giving many specifics. Why Corveus had asked for the information he had instead of something more militarily useful was hard to say. Perhaps he planned to try and manipulate them somehow. He would likely find that much more difficult than he suspected, regardless.
Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, he suppressed the sigh that threatened as well. "Is there anything else of relevance you can think of? Anything that struck you as particularly odd or strange or off, even in a small way? We need whatever information you can give usāeven if it might seem irrelevant to you."
It was Zahra who finally broke the silence, stepping forward with a ferocity that was amplified by her surroundings. The lamplight licked around her shoulders as she closed the distance, slamming her hand down on the table in front of him. It jumped and clattered back on the ground. Settled in place. Her face, still cast in shadows, seemed to twist. A scowl, or something close, pulled her lips from her teeth. She leaned towards him, but said nothing more.
Garland stared up at her: owlish, in appearance. He seemed exhausted by the entire confrontation. He seemed to shrink in front of her presence, slouching down into the chair he was shackled to. As if there was a pain there he couldnāt seem to shake loose, his voice sounded strained as he blinked through his unwashed hair, āNothing that would help you understand him. He plans to lead you through the estate himself. To your brother, your mother.ā His eyebrows scrunched together.
A hiss sounded. Zahra straightened her spine, pushing away from him.
The next words came as a whisper, barely audible, āAnd he wants you to kill Faraji.ā
Zahra shook her head and squared off towards the door. She paused at the threshold and turned back towards Estella and Leon, hand poised on the handle. Her expression seemed unreadable, still cast in shadow as it was. The torchlight cast a halo of light around her silhouette as she regarded them. There was a brief glimpse of furrowed brows, before she pushed the handle open and spoke over her shoulder, āDo whatever you want with him. He has nothing more to say.ā
A moment later, and she was gone.
Stepping inside the room, he allowed the others to pass before he closed the door behind all three of them. It was a dimly-lit space, just enough light provided to cast deep, eerie shadows. That was his own choice, as a single, out-of-reach light source like the torch on the far wall did tend to instill a sense of unease. On most occasions, a nervous target was more easily-persuaded. Moving to stand so that he blocked the torch from view, he fixed his eyes on the man shackled to the chair in the center of the room, a small table in front of him.
The prisoner in question was seated in the wooden chair, arms bound behind his back. From the looks of it, Garland hadnāt gotten much rest since his imprisonment. Bags hung under his pale blue eyes, though there were no longer any indications of the initial beating heād suffered from Zahra. No bruises. No swelling. Only a healing cut above his eyebrow. A scar. A reminder. Heād been treated with the same sort of indifference a stray dog might have afforded. Though he still appeared mildly disheveled. Quiet. A far cry from the smarmy, bearded carpenter swilling back tankards in the Skyholdās tavern. Guilt may have had something to do with it, coupled with his captainās infrequent, and often, caustic visits.
Leon crossed his arms over his chest. "Espionage is an offense the Inquisition takes very seriously, Serah Langley. If you would be given any latitude in this matter, it would be because you explained, clearly and completely, what you were meant to do, why, for whom, and exactly what information you gave away when." Everything, more or less, irrelevancies omitted.
For a moment, there was silence. It hung in the air, uncomfortable. Garlandās head was lowered and from what little Leon could see from his silhouette, he appeared to be studying something on the ground with great interest. His feet, perhaps. Brown curls hung in front of his face, bereft of fragrant oils, though a sliver of his eyes peeked out when the torches light danced against the wall. āI was trying to make things right for once.ā His voice was gravelly. Worn. As if he hadnāt spoken for awhile. If his visits were anything to go by, it wasnāt all that often.
An answer without justification. Words thrown out easily. He always seemed to have words; used to drive the Heraldās Rest crazy with all his talking. Tall tales, legends and stories. But he had done more than talk this time, and it ended with him here. A gutless spy. The leather of his shackles creaked as he finally tipped his head up towards Leon. His gaze shifted off to the side, where Zahra had stepped off to. She was leaning up against the cobblestone wall, arms crossed over her chest. Her face unreadable, a mask of shadow.
There was a desperate lilt to his voice, as his eyes swung to Stel. Breathless, and wild-eyed. āI knew about it before. Her family. What Faraji had done to themāI knew, but what could I do? There was nothing to be done. Nothing.ā He shook his head like a dog, rattling the chains, āHe was the only one who could help. The only one who would. Heā¦ contacted me after the Maker fiasco with the Herald.ā A harsh exhale sounded. āThis wasnāt supposed to happen this way.ā
There was a sound to Leonās right. A step forward. And another, as if retracing a step backwards. A resigned huff, and nothing more.
Estella looked at Leon, who nodded. If he was trying to appeal to her, then it was a sympathetic ear he wanted. If she could coax his story out of him gently, he could do his best to filter past the parts of it that were artifice or excuse. she wasn't a trained interrogator, but Garland seemed to want an opportunity to tell his story his way, and so she likely wouldn't need to be.
The Lady Inquisitor took the chair across from their prisoner, folding her hands neatly together on the tabletop. "Then how was it supposed to happen?" she asked gently, meeting his eyes steadily as though trying to transmit some of her calm ease with the situation to him. "The he you refer toāwho exactly is that?"
Garlandās shoulders sagged a little when Estella sat across from him. He reeked of relief. The angles of his face softened and the tight line of his lips dragged into a thoughtful frown, though he took another peek in the corner before swinging his gaze back to the table, and Inquisitor. āSmoothly. Like any other contractā¦ like how the Inquisition dealt with things,ā he stared at her through wild curls; blue eyes spilling over with so much desperation and despair, warring with a sudden flood of hope in the wake of being heard. There was a sense that heād kept much of it quiet for a long time, and it had taken its own toll on him.
He seemed to chew at the inside of his lip. Eyes falling away from the Inquisitor, in favor of her hands. The table. A tremble shook his shoulders before he seemed to settle. The torchlight lit up his features, briefly. Eyebrows scrunched together. Lips drawn back over his teeth. Considering his lack of options. His loyalties, perhaps. Only when a grating noise sounded did he snap his head back up. Zahra had shifted her weight once more; patience waning with him. She did, however, seemed to take note of Leonās intentions.
āFarajiās older brother. Corveus Contee. I...ā he exhaled sharply and gave his head another shake, āI didnāt know him like Faraji. We were close, when we were boys. Long before I joined the Riptide crew.ā He left out Zahraās name. He had not tried to sneak another glance either. He only barely lifted his head, imploring Estella with a sincerity he seemed to believe himself. āI wanted to make things right and he said he would help me. He only asked questions in return.ā
Estella nodded slowly, her mannerisms not changing much in spite of the information. Leon wanted to know why Garland had thought it his personal responsibility to make things 'right' in the first place, but he supposed that question was better suited for further down the queue. The priority had to be on the information leak, and this was something Estella clearly recognized as well.
"What questions did he ask you? And did he give any indication why he wanted to know about us?"
āHeā¦ wanted to know about you. The other Inquisitor, Rom. The others, too. What they were like. Some of the things weād done. In detail.ā Garland swallowed thickly and shifted once more, shackles jangling against one another. The sounds in the small chamber seemed amplified. A dreary echo. It was clear he wasnāt sure what to say. How much he should say. He, at least, had the good sense to look guilty. āHe never said why he wanted to know. It wasnāt a part of the deal.ā
There was a pause, before he suddenly looked much more miserable. He finally swung his gaze towards the corner Zahra inhabited. His voice hitched: desperate. āYou have to believe me, I donāt know why. He only told me where they were, said heād help find them. Get them back in one piece.ā
"What we were like? As in our personalities, or our histories...?" Estella didn't quite seem to know what to make of that. Much of that information was more or less a matter of public record at this point, though it hadn't always been. And of course there were always the things that wouldn't qualify: the little particularities and quirks, the parts of themselves they hid. Perhaps those were what the elder Contee had been after, though the end he intended for the information was vexingly absent from the story. Intentionally on Corveus's part, no doubt. Telling your agents only what they absolutely needed to know was standard procedure in espionage.
The Lady Inquisitor sat back in her chair, torchlight illuminating one side of her face and casting the other into deep, soft shadow. It was chased away when she turned to exchange a look with Leonāher body language conveyed her uncertainty well enough. She didn't quite know where to go from there.
So he took up the thread. "Why take up the responsibility in the first place? Why not impart the information you had to Captain Zahra from the beginning and cooperate? Or simply do that and leave?" It smacked of a more personal sort of guiltāespecially if Faraji was indeed a friend. Rare was the person who would work against the interests of a genuine friend out of impartial moral instinct. Rarer still was the one who'd do it like this.
Garland gave a shaky laugh. It held no such amusement and seemed rather deflated as he swung his gaze back towards the Lady Inquisitor. āYes. What you were like, personally. Like he was asking after a friend.ā He didnāt seem to know much else, aside from what heād been asked to divulge. There was a sense that he hadnāt even questioned Contee, as if he were far too focused on the task at hand. His eyebrows had drawn together once more, disconcerted. Shoulders slack and mouth drawn into a fine line.
āI...ā he began and lowered his gaze back towards the floor, āFaraji and I grew up together. He sent me after her. To watch. We never lost contact. I knew what heād done to her family. Iād known for a long time.ā He seemed hesitant to part with anymore information, but as soon as he swung his gaze up, he seemed to find his voice again. Gravelly as it was. āHe changed. He was never so cruel. Once he took his fatherās place, everything changed. I didnāt agree with his methods, but there was nothing I could do.ā
He shuttered his eyes closed and gave his head a shake. āHe went too far. I had to do something. If Iād said anything before...ā The implications were clear. Even Zahra seemed to bristle at Leonās side, fingers gripped into her forearms. In all likelihood, she would have kicked him off the Riptide. Perhaps, done something worse, if heād known all along and refused to part with that information.
None of this was exceptionally useful, but Leon got the sense that Gardland didn't have a lot of useful information. Sent by one brother to do a task, and when it crossed the line for him, defecting to the other who promised him a way out without giving many specifics. Why Corveus had asked for the information he had instead of something more militarily useful was hard to say. Perhaps he planned to try and manipulate them somehow. He would likely find that much more difficult than he suspected, regardless.
Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, he suppressed the sigh that threatened as well. "Is there anything else of relevance you can think of? Anything that struck you as particularly odd or strange or off, even in a small way? We need whatever information you can give usāeven if it might seem irrelevant to you."
It was Zahra who finally broke the silence, stepping forward with a ferocity that was amplified by her surroundings. The lamplight licked around her shoulders as she closed the distance, slamming her hand down on the table in front of him. It jumped and clattered back on the ground. Settled in place. Her face, still cast in shadows, seemed to twist. A scowl, or something close, pulled her lips from her teeth. She leaned towards him, but said nothing more.
Garland stared up at her: owlish, in appearance. He seemed exhausted by the entire confrontation. He seemed to shrink in front of her presence, slouching down into the chair he was shackled to. As if there was a pain there he couldnāt seem to shake loose, his voice sounded strained as he blinked through his unwashed hair, āNothing that would help you understand him. He plans to lead you through the estate himself. To your brother, your mother.ā His eyebrows scrunched together.
A hiss sounded. Zahra straightened her spine, pushing away from him.
The next words came as a whisper, barely audible, āAnd he wants you to kill Faraji.ā
Zahra shook her head and squared off towards the door. She paused at the threshold and turned back towards Estella and Leon, hand poised on the handle. Her expression seemed unreadable, still cast in shadow as it was. The torchlight cast a halo of light around her silhouette as she regarded them. There was a brief glimpse of furrowed brows, before she pushed the handle open and spoke over her shoulder, āDo whatever you want with him. He has nothing more to say.ā
A moment later, and she was gone.