POV Grand Master
'How long ago it was,' thought the Grand Master and moved the cooled porridge thoughtfully with his spoon. He had lost his appetite. Edward would have liked to forget about St. Michelon, but memory obligingly showed pictures of the past. It was unpleasant to realize that there was a flaw in him, too. The flesh is weak, the flesh is dust, a vault for the immortal soul.
Then they had won, but he was not happy. When the knight's blade pierced the vampire's heart, Edward saw not pain, not anger or hatred in her eyes. He saw incomprehension. And he couldn't forget.
The Master pushed his plate away and pounded the table, twice quickly, and a third time after a short pause. The henchman knew all the conventional signs perfectly well. The young man deftly took the plate and cup and wiped the table with a silk handkerchief.
«Bring the papers,» Edward ordered, looking up at the crenellations of the castle towers, illuminated by the bright morning sun. The time for rest had passed. It was time for work.
***
In a minute a thick pile of letters and reports grew in front of the Magister. The henchman brought fresh ink and finely honed quills, and then, bowing low, left the office.
Edward rubbed his cheek, picked up the first letter, and tore open the envelope. Jorgen von Stalven, due to advanced age and weakened health ... A letter of resignation.
'A pity,' thought Edward. 'He was a glorious knight. He was. I remember him as a teenager, don't I? A fine fellow, always gloomy, sullen. He fought without fancy, but he always held his ground to the last man, never gave up his position.
Under Stirvec, the Mamono had dismantled the whole detachment, but he continued to fight. One could say that he single-handedly held the southern bastion. A stubborn guy, so stubborn that when they put him in the ground, he would cling to the edges of the coffin and say, moving his blue lips: «I'm not done yet!»
How quickly the years fly! Perhaps soon the Goddess will call me to judgment. And then the Circle will reconvene to elect a new Grand Master.... Yes, years...'
«Approved» the Master wrote. «Appoint a pension of two hundred gold annually.»
Edward set the letter aside to his left, closer to himself. He had a simple rule - keep the unread on the right. Read, but without decisions - to the left, farther away. Satisfied or written orders - also to the left, but closer. There were a lot of papers, and it was easy to get confused, and then wonder why orders were not executed!
Edward opened the next letter, stamped with the seal of the Inquisition of the Eastern District.
«Urgent, secret. Personally to the Grand Master,» Edward read. «We bring to your attention that on the second day, mamonos were discovered in the village of Smerdovka.»
Very unpleasant news. The Grand Master was well aware of the danger of mamono epidemics. Unless drastic action was taken, the infestation could reach the cities, where fighting it would result in many casualties.
«Early in the morning,» Edward muttered grimly.
He continued reading.
«Landowner Klaus Bergen was criminally careless and failed to report the monsters to the Inquisition. This allowed the disease to spread to the neighboring settlements of Otschild, Oak Meadow, and Brantz. The inhabitants of the said villages turned to mamono and mushroom people. Legally, by the sentence of Inquisitor Gunther, Klaus was burned as a heretic and traitor.»
'What's the use?» thought the Magister angrily. 'Reviewed themselves and now they're carrying out executions. No, Gunther has no place in his post, there is no place for fools and misfits in the Inquisition. People aren't monsters, they shouldn't burn for nothing. When the epidemic is over, I'll send him to a monastery to pray his sins for the rest of his life!'
He finished reading the letter. Not only had the Inquisition failed to react in time, it was also asking for reinforcements.
«Establish the quarantine with your own forces,» the Magister imposed a resolution. «Summon mages to create defenses against spores. Scorch. Place the inhabitants of settlements up to thirty kilometers from the infected villages in special camps. Keep them under surveillance for a month, save their souls at the slightest suspicion of disease.»
'Still, Matango is easier to fight,' Eduard thought. 'Unlike the Roper, the Matango formed are chained in place. The main thing is to keep your guard up and stay focused. Then the monsters can be dealt with with little blood. However, even that is not an easy task with such idiots like the Inquisition of the Eastern District'.
Edward put the quill in the inkwell. The Mamono had begun to use parasites more frequently, that was a fact. They were especially easy to infiltrate in areas where smuggling flourished.
'We shout at every turn that monsters eat human meat,' the Master thought sadly. 'How else do we keep people away? Their faith is weak. For a pittance they are willing to trade even with Mamono! And all their wares have a catch. Cursed weapons grow into the body, demonic silver turns into monsters, little things like earrings and bracelets are dangerous.
Put them on a woman, and she will not notice how to become a mamono. Even clothes carry a threat. Horrible! We are forced to lie. But these lies are for salvation. Without it, we'll be slaves and mindless incubi. An abomination! If it were up to me, I'd ban both kobols and weresheeps, but that would alienate the nobility from the Order'.
«Useful mamono are profitable,» Edward felt bitter at the weakness of the people. «And our nobles, instead of following the path of the Goddess, think only of profit. So we turn a blind eye to their sins. Sacrificing the small for the big. But will the Goddess accept such an excuse when I stand before her fair court?»
He picked up the next letter. At that moment there was a deafening creak of iron behind the portiere. The Magister turned his head to the right and listened. For a second Edward thought he had imagined it, but then something tinkled in the distance and the scraping was repeated.
'Right,' thought the Master. 'There are two doors in the secret passage. Simeon's or Helmut's? Probably Simeon.'
When Edward heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, he had no doubt. Simeon.