Chapter 11: The Threshold

The sun crested over the water, casting a golden ray along the water that stretched all the way to the Wall. Elaene smiled, and looked over her shoulder at Caeledonia, far below. They wouldn’t see the sun for a time, making this sight all hers.

She had been sitting on the Wall for a while, hoping to catch the sunrise in its entirety. Elaene had shivered, teeth chattering, through the cold ocean air, waiting for the dawn. And now, with the sun rising, she was sure that it had been worth it.

As the sun grew, low in the sky, Elaene pondered the conundrum that she had discovered about Dane Wrickon.

Elaene enjoyed moral puzzles, and this was certainly an interesting one. The incentives changed so dramatically after that initial moral threshold of drunkenness had been crossed. Moral infractions, such as brawling, would rarely have crossed Dane’s mind before. But once that moral line had been crossed, such things were commonplace. It disturbed her, really. There had to be some way to construct punishments and rewards in such a way to as discourage such behavior.

But she couldn’t figure it out. Was it just the drinking itself, the loosening of intellectual clarity, causing the problem? Perhaps, but the issue worked on a large scale as well as a small one. After all, if one had displeased the deities greatly, by some crime or another, that person was, in a sense, already confined to the sunken hells—it would take an impossible amount of effort to regain the favor of the gods. If that was the case… didn’t it make some small amount of sense to continue living life in such a terrible way, especially if it gave you pleasure?

If getting back one’s feet was impossible, it really did look more appealing to wallow in the dirt.

Elaene, leaning against one of the crenellations of the Wall, pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them.

What, then, was the solution? An eternity of drowning in the sunken hells was already unappealing. There couldn’t be more torment than that. Increasing the punishment wouldn’t fix the problem.

Did people just not understand what they were getting into, when they lost the favor of the gods? That was likely, but with a counselor for every major group of people, Elaene couldn’t see what more could be done on that end.

If she couldn’t solve the high punishment threshold, then she had to work on the other end—the ease of return to their favor. Elaene knew that some gods forgave and forgot easier than others. Fiach, the Lady of the Soil, and Uisce, the Cascade Prince, were easy to accept new followers. Elaene assumed that they would accept broken people with the same attitude.

It was at this point that she stopped thinking about the problem. The way of the gods was too alien to a human’s thought. It was useless trying to analyze things from their end.

Whatever the reasons, Dane was getting better, and that made Elaene glad indeed. She tried to organize her thoughts better so that she could write her ideas down and send them to Ard-Abthen. The elders were always interested in new patterns and methods to approach the stranger moral problems that they would face from time to time.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Elaene, already pacing back and forth as Lito talked to her, started towards the door.

“Lito, this is a matter I have no desire or right to discuss,” she said firmly, preparing to remove herself from the situation if she had to.

“This doesn’t involve you; you won’t be breaking impartiality, I promise,” Lito said.

“Doesn’t involve me? Lito, from what you’ve told me, I will be directly influencing your decision whether or not to capture and interrogate one of the Carpenter’s men. How does that not involve me?”

Lito Laeth had called her in late at night, not during their normally scheduled meetings. And while Elaene had been initially glad to have another chance to talk to her, things had gone sour quickly.

Lito, through her spy Dane, had found one of the names and locations of a Carpenter man. From the sound of it, this man had the potential to know a lot. It was only natural that he would be brought in for questioning. It was to the extent of this questioning that Lito needed advice.

“I’m worried that he won’t tell me anything,” Lito had explained. “We don’t have anything like the reputation the Carpenter has, our only real method of punishment is to Drain someone. We could confine him to some cells, for a time, but I doubt that will loosen his tongue.”

Elaene had understood right away. Lito wanted Elaene to tell her that torturing the Carpenter’s man was okay, as if it would remove Lito from all moral culpability. And so, she had firmly tried to leave. Lito, just as firmly, refused to let her.

“It doesn’t involve you,” Lito said, “because this is not a conversation about political struggles. I and the other high-ranking guards have already decided that we need to bring this man in and interrogate him. If you and I were having that conversation, then, yes, you would be violating impartiality. But the only thing we are discussing is the morality of the methods. This is a conversation you were designed to help with; this sort of thing is the only reason why I have you here at all.”

“Please, Elaene,” Lito said. “I know that our sessions have been worthless in the past. I don’t have many things in my life I need advice in. This is one of them. Please help me.”

Elaene walked back towards the table and sat down across from Lito. “Alright,” she said. “Explain what you need help with.”

Lito ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t think we have the adequate punishments in place to get him to talk,” she said. “I need to know how much is right.”

Elaene laughed wildly. “What do you want to know, Lito? Burning his fingertips is fine, but cutting them off is not? Feel free to practically drown him, but only in water and not something nastier?”

“I can figure out the specifics for myself,” Lito said, nonplused. “I just need to understand the principles behind it.”

Elaene shook her head. “You shouldn’t be torturing people at all. This is what makes you and the King different from a rule under the Carpenter would be.”

Lito spread her hands. “This is one of the only solid leads we’ve had in a while, and I’m not sure how much longer Dane is going to be useful.” Elaene felt a chill, at that, but Lito continued. “If we don’t seize this opportunity, there may not be another.”

“I understand that hurting people is part of the job,” Elaene said. “But usually those people are trying to hurt you back.”

“Aren’t they?” Lito said. “The Carpenter has made it quite clear the extent that he is willing to go to in order to have his uprising. This is self-defense, plain and simple.”

“Santori hasn’t done anything to you,” Elaene said. “If the Carpenter were under your sword… I suppose I would see things differently.”

“Salva Santori has aided the Carpenter throughout his work,” Lito said. “That makes him complicit to it.”

“Are you complicit to all the trouble Dane gets in? Responsibility doesn’t work that way, you can’t put any blame on Santori for the Carpenter’s crimes.”

“I am complicit, actually,” Lito said. “Every time Dane gets into a drunken brawl, or injures himself in some way, I know that I could have Drained him a while ago and prevented it.”

“That’s… that’s not the point,” Elaene said. “You think you’re responsible because command runs in that direction: you’re higher than Dane, and so you could have stopped Dane, sure. But could Salva stop the Carpenter? Salva is below the Carpenter, so I think not.”

“I think so,” Lito said. “If one person left the Carpenter, perhaps nothing would happen. But if everyone? He would have nothing. By Salva not leaving, he doesn’t inspire others to do so, and is culpable.”

“We heard from Dane that they want this to be bloodless and painless,” Elaene tried another angle.

“Do the Carpenter’s actions thus far suggest that? The Carpenter’s man might have wanted that, or he could have lied to Dane, or any number of things. You’re a fool if you believe that.”

Their conversation wore on. Lito continued to stick to her justifications, Elaene refused to offer advice that would suggest that she approved in any way.  

“I will tell you two things,” Elaene said, finally. “It is better—not good, mind you, better, if you keep the pain as temporary as possible. Don’t cause permanent damage.”

She took a deep breath. “Second… you owe it to him to do this yourself. Don’t hide behind some subordinate doing this for you. Talking to me doesn’t make you less guilty, making someone else doesn’t make you less guilty. Any pain and suffering you cause is entirely your fault. You should respect that, and do this yourself, if you do it at all.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Elaene watched the sun rise over the ocean. Was the sunrise a darker shade of red than it was yesterday, or did she imagine it?

She hadn’t slept at all, and was trying not to harbor a tremendous feeling of resentment for Lito Laeth.

Elaene felt guilty, responsible for whatever horrors Salva had endured over the night. She knew, deep down, that she hadn’t done anything to change Lito’s mind. The Sunset Knight would have done this, or something similar, regardless. But even if Elaene didn’t have a direct role in what happened, the fact that she had been part of the conversation at all.

She wanted to do something, anything to help Lito with her war against the Carpenter in a way that didn’t involve tying young men to a chair and beating them within an inch of death. What good was impartiality if it wasn’t able to stop things like this?

And wasn’t refraining from involvement just as bad as involvement, in some ways? If Elaene had been privy to more conversations, if she had been able to help with planning and strategy… would she have been able to figure out a way around this situation? By the time Elaene had been called in, the torture had already been decided. What if Elaene had been called in earlier? What if Elaene had been helping since the day she arrived?

A patter of footsteps up the stairs behind the Wall broke her concentration. It was a messenger, out of breath, holding a metal box for her.

“It was addressed to the counselor of the head guard,” the man said, panting.

“I will take it,” Elaene replied.

She opened the metal box, and read the contents of the message.

After she finished, she ran past the messenger on her way down the steps, hurrying to get to Lito as quickly as possible.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Elaene Alkalae knocked on the imposing metal door in front of her, calling for Lito Laeth.

The door opened. Lito looked as if she hadn’t slept either. Her eyes were red, although whether it was for lack of sleep or weeping, Elaene couldn’t say. Her hands were raw; her hair disheveled.

The Sunset Knight exited.

“What is it?” Lito asked, her voice cracking.

Elaene held the message forward.

“The elders in Ard-Abthen just sent this down through the Waterfall. I think I know exactly what the Carpenter is planning.”

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