This room lies below ground level deep under the manor house. Heavy stone blocks line the walls and floor of this relatively expansive cellar. More commonly used for storage, this cellar seems to have been cleaned out and renovated. Wooden crates are stacked at one end, but the rest of the room is used more actively.

Flickering lamps provide the only source of light in the room. One wall is lined with a wooden bench next to a stone topped table. On these are an assortment of glass and metal apothecary's apparatus. A wooden rack lies near a glowing brazier, fragrant herbs slowly drying before the flames.

In the centre of the room is a stone table at waist height. Ominously, there are iron rings set into the table's sides, as if to strap someone down. Likewise on the wall, iron rings have been set into the wall conveniently placed shoulder width apart.

Contents:

Daric

Obvious exits:

Kitchens

The steady gallop of hoofbeats from the outside announces a newcomer. From the distance, it appears to be a Child of the Light, his hair grey, riding in on a white steed.

Inside, the soldiers and servants are just finishing their evening meal, save for the Whitecloak answering to Emrich, who stands aside near the steps to the converted cellar below.

As the white-cloaked rider comes in, it can be made out his frown, his distinctive look of power. It is Verus Arctavius, Captain rank, Child of the Light. He slows his mare to a slow trot, alighting a few dozen paces from the cottage. He calls out, in a clear voice, reeking of arrogance, "I am Captain Arctavius, Child of the Light. I request entrance." From his tone, it seems more like an order than a request.

Caenna glances up, hearing the faint call from outside. Another one. They're breeding like locusts out thee.

One of the Children at the table wipes his mouth with a cloth, then makes his way to the door. Giving the requires salute, the knots on his cloak denote him as a bannerman. "My lord." he says. "Please come in, I'll have the Questioner fetched." he says. He gestures to the other Child, who also rises and goes downstairs at once.

The man nods, removing the pristine, white gloves from his hands and placing them under his arm. It is noted that Verus is using a finely polished stick, a cane, perhaps, to assist him in walking. Did that little fall hurt him that much? Hmm... Nonetheless, he slowly makes his way inside, frowning.

Daric appears in short order in the company of the other Child, running a hand over his blond hair. His eyes have a vaguely hunted look about them. "Captain, this is an ill-advised visit, yes?" he says. The shorter man seems to smell of strange herbs and chemicals. He gestures with a hand. "Still, perhaps you might bear witness."

Verus has the cane by his left leg, bearing some of the weight on it. He raises an eyebrow, replying, "Witness to what, Inquisitor Roesone?" His nose briefly sniffs the air, taking note of the scent. His sharp gaze is located soley on Daric.

Turning to Emrich's chosen soldier, Daric says, "You'd better come with me down there, Child." He steps back to allow the Child to descend the stairs first. Yet he makes a surreptitious gesture to the lower ranked Child who fetched Daric from the cellar.

As Emrich's soldier dutifully begins to descend the stairs, the other Child removes a solid looking cosh from under his white cloak. With a few short steps, and a sharp 'thud', he hits Emrich's soldier on the back of his head. The stricken Whitecloak crumples to the floor with a groan.

Verus merely stands by, watching the proceedings with a feigned lack of interest. That quickly changes. In a flash, Verus has his sword unsheathed, though he stays at bay, his gaze concentrated on Daric like that of a hawk.

"We don't have time for this, Captain." Daric says coolly, as he steps over the prone body and begins his descent into the cellar. "Follow me, please." The remaining two Children begin to drag their fallen comrade out of the way. This seems to be a signal for the Roesone soldiers, they both leave the table, one to guard the door outside and the other to the kitchen of cottage, along with the un-uniformed servants.

Verus keeps his sword in his hands, deftly juggling between his cane and his sword. He slowly follows behind Daric, occasionally giving discreet glances behind him.

Caenna has gotten to her feet in the interim, stands facing the direction the footsteps are coming from.

Daric reaches the bottom of the stairs, and begins drawing back bolts from a solid looking barred door. Swinging the door open, he walks into the cellar where Caenna is being held.

Verus follows behind Daric, still doing his occassional check-six. Upon opening the door, he manages to hold back his surprise. That is, until he sees the Aes Sedai Ring. "A witch..." he mutters, half to himself. The clanking noise heard is from Verus' dropped sword.

Caenna is blindfolded, eyes hidden, but the expression on her face is a telling one - she's confronted by yet another babbler of nonsense.

"This is Caenna Sedai, of the White Ajah." Daric says, gesturing to the bound, blindfolded girl. "She was sent here some months ago apparently to negotiate a treaty between Andor and Murandy." He remains silent for a moment, then looks at Verus. "She apparently is now a loved companion of one Emrich Lochmar. The Lord Captain Commander. The fallen man upstairs was placed here by Lord Lochmar himself, he was charged with safeguarding this... girl. I apologise for that scene, Captain, but it was necessary for what has to be done here tonight."

Caenna echoes softly. "Loved companion? He's a Whitecloak. I am Sedai. Perhaps you are drunk, Lord Roesone?"

Verus blinks, shooting a bewildered look to Daric. The Lord Captain Commander... and an Aes Sedai!? He bends down to pick up and sheathe his sword, the look of pain from bending evident in his strained face. Upon righting himself, he regains his composition. "This witch is having relations with the Lord Captain Commander?" He looks to Daric, again, his face echoing Caenna's words.

"Caenna Sedai has been seen privately talking with the Lord Captain Commander, in an inn of all places." the ex-Questioner says in a perfectly even voice. "Less reliably, she has been seen going about the legion's encampment unmolested." He looks down at the ground for a moment, then says, "And now, the Lord Captain Commander himself came to this place, which I took pains to conceal, and he swore that no harm would come to this girl. A channeling Darkfriend." He looks at Verus again.

Verus blinks again. He /did/ see Caenna with Emrich at the Rose and Lion. He turns his gaze to Caenna, studying her intently. "Inquisitor, what you are saying reeks of treason. If it is false." Verus himself sounds not quite sure if it is entirely false.

Caenna's expression has snapped back to a customary, if well worn, serenity. She simply stands there and listens.

"What I am speaking of is bewitchment. It is obvious that this girl has somehow placed a curse on our Lord Captain Commander, to addle his thoughts." Daric says, looking straight into Verus' eyes. "Will a bewitched man speak against his binder? Already, the blood of a witch has mingled with his own. And now, we find this girl attempting to 'draw him in'." He pauses, then speaks judgement. "She has to die, Verus. And now. We don't have time to orchestrate a trial. If you found this place so easily, then it will not be long before the Tower lackeys in red-coats do."

"Compulsion..." comes the whispered words of Verus. He opens his mouth to explain how exactly /he/ found it, but stops. Some things are better left unspoken. "If the Tower finds out that we executed a Witch, there will be Hell to pay, Inquisitor." His tone is cold, icy.

Caenna supplies, "And then some."

"Only you, I, Lord Lochmar and the men and women upstairs will ever know what transpired here." Daric says, gesturing with a hand. "I will see to it that enough evidence is found that points in my direction. And when the Queen's Guards come blundering through in their oafish ways, we will have the chance to discredit them further when they find they have not enough evidence to assure my punishment." He looks again at Verus. "We are fighting a losing strategy here, Captain. You know as well as I do, that to seize the initiative in battle is the road to victory. With this stroke, we not only rid the world of a witch, we rid our Lord Captain Commander of a curse, and we discredit our enemies, the Queen's Guard and the Tower white."

Caenna smiles very faintly to herself, but does not speak up. A touch of bitterness lurks in the smile though.

Verus looks to the Witch, then to Daric. His eyes close, and a long few moments passes by. "The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways. She to die, and us to live. Which is the better, Light only knows," He sighs, shaking his head, "Light only knows." He opens his eyes, looking to Caenna, "So be it. Caenna Aes Sedai is condemned to die here today. Let justice be done, though the world perish." He wipes his hands together. The blood will not be on him.

You say "Very well. One small request? Unbind my hands. I could still do little against you."

Nodding sagely, Daric undoes his cufflinks to his coat and shirt. "Do you wish to bear witness her ascent to the Creator?" Daric asks Verus, walking towards the door to the room. He makes a beckoning gesture to whoever is at the top of the stairwell.

Verus nods, "Might I have some time to speak with the prisoner, before she is executed?" His tone is icy, his face stoical.

With the clatter of footsteps, the two Roesone militiamen enter the room, followed by a woman of middle-aged years like Daric. The lordling seems to prefer his own House lackeys to the Children still upstairs.

"Of course, Captain." Daric says, bowing his head slightly. "I would consider carefully not unbinding her hands. Darkfriends are prone to lies, as my questioning notes concerning Caenna will attest. Should that blindfold be removed, it will be our execution and not hers." He turns to speak with the men and women, directing them to an assortment of strange scientific apparatus on the table Daric has been using in this room.

Verus gives a curt nod, "Yes, Inquisitor. I am well-aware of the Witch's tricks." He begins to advance slowly to Caenna, cane clattering against the stone floor as he moves.

Caenna shakes her head once. Says to the approaching man, "Don't bother. I have nothing to say to you."

"I have some to say to you, Aes Sedai." The final words are spat out, as if a rotten meat. He reaches to within a pace or two of Caenna, then slowly leans on his cane, so that is head is a next to Caenna's ear, and he whispers something to her, frowning.

You sense Verus frown, whispering to your ear, "Has Traveling been re-discovered, child? It is of paramount importance. I ask not as a Child of the Light, but as a Scholar. The world may be in imminent danger." The edge on his voice is lost, it is softer, determined.

In the background, Daric is preparing a flask of a green liquid, swirling it around gently and adding a clear coloured decoction from a earthenware pot. One of the Roesone soldiers returns from his brief trip upstairs, manhandling a wooden block and an ordinary half-moon axe into the room.

Caenna steps back quite deliberately, face an unexpressive mask. "I have nothing I wish to say to my executioners. I do not believe you, and I will not answer you."

Verus returns his head back. Scowling, he tilts his head over his shoulder to Daric. "I am finished speaking. You may kill her." He turns his head back to Caenna, and says in a low tone, "Believe me or not, it is true, Aes Sedai. I sincerely hope that you have; the alternative is to be more feared than anything." With a dramatic sweep of his cloak, he turns an about-face, walking back to his former position, eyes resting on Daric now.

Caenna says nothing in reponse. The woman is almost too calm, even for a Shienarian Aes Sedai. She doesn't seem one for last words - or maybe the wrong CoL are here for that.

Daric watches Verus as he walks away, then nods to himself. "Caenna Sedai." he says, setting down the vial of liquid he holds. "You have been summoned to the Creator's side, to have your soul washed clean of sin." He approaches Caenna, standing a few feet away from her. "Do you wish to be shriven of your earthly sins, that you may know only the Light as you ascend to the heavens?" he asks.

A thousand words pass through her mind, a million ways of defying the Whitecloak's pedantic, pompous words. And maybe four years ago, some of them would come spilling out. But now, day, Caenna merely lifts her chin, face icily calm, and not a word escapes in acknowledgement. There is nothing left to say.

"Then I will dispense with the rituals of execution, both under the Tenets and Andoran law." Daric says. "I offer you choices that nineteen Children did not have when you blasted them away, Caenna." He gestures unseen by Caenna to the table. "I have prepared a solution of cyanin green from root vegetables for you. You should feel little or no discomfort as you slip from this world to the next." He gestures to the waiting Roesone soldiers. "Anton here can slip his knife between your ribs. Or he can strike off your head in accordance with the rules for a nobles execution. Which will it be?" he asks, his voice and words utterly callous.

Caenna replies to Daric evenly, "Andoran law does not permit cold-blooded murder. You do not have that to shield you. I choose the knife."

"She dies with honour," Verus says under his breath, audible only to himself. Perhaps Verus has some respect for this witch. Some.

"Seize her." the blond lordling orders in a cold voice to the Roesone soldiers. Taking his gloves from his belt, he pulls each black glove on in turn, then holds out a hand towards the soldier named Anton. Apparently, he's decided to do the deed.

Hesitating for a moment, first one soldier then the other walks forward towards Caenna. The one named Anton seems relieved in some way that he doesn't have to kill an innocent looking girl himself. He withdraws his knife from a sheath at his side, and hands it to Daric hilt first. Caenna's upper arms are grabbed by each soldier, one grabbing Caenna's braid to jerk her head back.

Caenna draws her breath in involuntarily as her head is yanked back, but makes no outcry other then that. It's taking every bit of control she has to keep calm though - she's barely nineteen after all.

Walking forward to the captive girl, Daric's blue eyes eye the sharp edge of the knife, twisting it in his gloved hand. On the hilt can be seen a small minature of the House Roesone crest: a golden rising sunburst over green on a purple background. "Do you have any final confession, or words that you would say?" the lordling asks, turning his gaze on the prone girl.

Caenna says, very quietly, "No." That is the only audible word, her lips moving soundlessly for a second after, then ceasing.

Before anyone can react, Daric seizes the neckline of Caenna's shift and rips it open to bare her chest. His right hand darts backwards, and he buries the knife in her chest left of her breastbone, angling the knife with a surgeons precision to plunge into her beating heart.

Caenna's arms jerk spasmodically, and her face twists in pain, but the tight grips of her keep her from falling forward. Her teeth are locked in her lip, and no sound emerges as the knife finds her heart.

Verus makes no visible reaction, merely staring at Caenna. No mercy is evident on Captain Arctavius' face. No pity for a child taken away so young. She is a Witch. She must be killed. It is how things go, as much as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,. As it was, and ever shall be, in the life of Verus Arctavius, Captain rank, Child of the Light.

Involuntarily, the men holding Caenna up let go at the sight, removing all confinement and now support she had before. One steps away as if stung, wiping his lips with a hand as if to get a bad taste out of his mouth. The other, Anton, swallows visibly, wringing his hands before him.

Without the support, Caenna falls forward, toward Daric, the knife only digging deeper into her chest. It is a dead body that falls though, by the end of the arc, the life fled from the 'witch', the young girl, the Sedai. However one views her, she is gone.

Daric catches Caenna as she slumps forward, his eyes drifting down to the blond hair before him. He slowly lowers the nineteen year-old's body to the ground, finally removing the blindfold with a tug. "May you know peace at the Creator's side. Until the next turn of the Wheel, when we are all born again in the next Age." he says softly. He removes the bonds from her hands, and makes some attempt to close up the torn neckline of the now bloodied shift.

Verus watches the precedings impassively, "Did she say anything else, Inquisitor?" His tone in firm, solid, and above all: cold.

"No." Daric responds quietly, ignoring the bloodstains over his own clothing as he straightens out Caenna's lifeless form. He looks up at the soldiers. "See to it the knife is left in place. When I am done, you will make sure she's found in the city somewhere. Preferably at that 'Tower' manor."

"And then..." the lordling continues, looking askance. "You and I will visit the Lord Captain Commander, Verus. And we will persuade him that he rescinded his orders regarding Caenna's protection." He wipes his bloodied gloved hands on his chest. "Dear Light." he murmurs.

Verus's frown grows deeper; he looks to Daric, "I hope you don't intend to 'persuade' him in that attire, Daric." He gestures to his bloodied clothing.

"Yes. I need to change my clothing. And spend time in prayer, for Caenna's soul." Daric says absently, standing up. Looking across the room towards the woman, he says. "Perhaps you would fetch water from the well. We have cleaning to do, and the body to wash before it is removed."

"You wouldn't have a bathing area, Daric, would you? I feel unclean." His eyes flicker down to the corpse briefly, before returning to Daric.

"Mirra will show you where the well is, Verus." Daric says in a quiet voice as he removes his coat. "We have no bath here, but you can splash water on your face there." He lets out a long breath.

Verus nods, following Mirra. At the door, he pauses, turning to take one final look at Caenna Aes Sedai, of the White Ajah. After a moment of silence, he continues up the stairs, his cane tapping on the stone steps.