A Bird in the Hand...

Lieutenant Detective Ellu-Ḫari strolled down the aisle and came to the edge of the blood pit, drained for inspection. He rustled through his coat, at this point it was barely more than torn fabric held together by brass studs. He pulled out a few sheets of parchment.

Across the gap, the Sub-Magister-8th-Order stood beside her lectern. Scribing notes for an upcoming sermon. She did not look up.

"Lieutenant. This is the seventh time you have bothered me today."

"Eight, actually." He squinted at the parchment. "But after this I'll be completely out of your hair. Like the blood of Sub-Magister-7th-Order, Vilkis. That was a heck of a fight, from what I'm told. You see I was tied up that day, couldn't make it, but my wife was there. Said it was the best duel she'd seen in years. The way you brought it down, a loxatl twice your size, and held that head aloft. Got the whole congregation going. My wife even came home with a few new lacerations on her back. She was very pleased. She keeps telling me I work too much, don't attend enough of the-"

"Is there a point to this? "

"How did you do that?"

The Sub-Magister looked up

"I was favoured."

"Right. See, I don't think you were."

He straightened out some of the parchment

"I've been going through your record. It's not bad, don't get me wrong, but it reads like a woman doing a job. A good one, but nothing that'd make me look twice." He glanced up. "Nothing I'd expect Khorne to choose."

She set down her quill. "Is that it? You think you are a better judge than Khorne for who leads the faithful?"

"No. I would never. You see, I was talking to some of the other priests, and a few odd things came up. How sharp Vilkis looked in the days, hours even, before the duel. How you had the fight pushed back an hour at the last minute from eight o'clock to nine o'clock. How there's an odd number of blood-candles missing from the reliquary." He flicked though the sheets and brought another to the front. "And then there's the body. Instead of saving a cup of his blood, you had him fully exsanguinated. Poured everything into the pit."

"It got me thinking."

The Sub-Magister was leaning on the lectern now, fully focused on the Detective.

"That this wasn't a fair fight."

The Sub-Magister straightened slowly. When she spoke, her voice had dropped.

"You would do well to consider very carefully what you say to me, and how you say it. This accusation-"

He held up the parchment.

"You forgot about the head. One of your junior priests, Pater Dyalov. Saved a little blood when he was preparing it. For a personal relic. I managed to get it off him and sent it to my people in the lab... They found Tzeentchian taint."

Behind her, a door opened. Dyalov stepped through, followed by two officers of the Šangītu Guard, chainaxes raised and idling.

The Lieutenant tucked the parchment back into his coat.

"Sub-Magister-8th-Order Elina. I am charging you with Dishonour, Cowardice, and the practice of Non-Khornate sorcery. Sentence to be carried out immediately."

He was already halfway out when the chainaxes came down.

He stepped out of the cathedral and into the square, hands in his pockets, heading for his wheeler where he'd left it beside the gore-fountain. He reached into his inner pocket and found his lho-stub, put it between his lips, then searched his pockets for a lighter.

Nothing.

He sighed.

A hand rose from the gore-fountain. It was made of blood, bone shards, and coinage. Between two dripping fingers, it held a lit lighter.

The Lieutenant leaned in and puffed the cigar to life.

"Thanks."