Fic: Inquisitor (Hannibal)
Hannibal, Will. PG-13. No spoilers. The medieval inquisition AU. Inspired in part by Barry Unsworth's Morality Play.
"Two hundred years ago you would have been burnt."
- Laurie R. King, The Beekeeper's Apprentice
INQUISITOR
Midway through harvest was not ideal time for a hanging - what use was moral instruction pro bono publico if half the village was too occupied to attend? - but Hannibal could not fault the local lord for wanting the accused witch disposed of with haste, before the tide of public fury could turn toward a more rational target.
It had not been Hannibal's intention to dally here more than a night, long enough only to rest his horse, and for he and Brother Auguste to partake of a warm meal and some very serviceable wine at the village priory, before resuming their journey south. When one was asked by the prior to exercise their learned judgement and consult in a delicate matter, however, how could one refuse?
An eideteker, the prior called the boy. Awe in his voice. As illiterate as the rest of the villagers, but put a gospel in front of him for five minutes and he will write you the entire book from memory. Not a single mistake.
I offered to teach him to read, the prior solemnly confided in Hannibal, in return for his working in the manuscript room. But young men of fourteen, they do not have the indulgence of free time, you know. What a terrible thing, that Will should be suspected of such atrocities.
At which point Hannibal nodded grimly, and asked whose permission he would need to speak to the prisoner, Will Graham.
He was innocent, of course. All evidence to the contrary, Hannibal Lecter did not believe in witchcraft. After the poisoners and the itinerants were ruled out, in a community this size, it took someone with power and position to kill multiple men and women, to make the corpses disappear and get away with it. Hannibal did not suspect the prior, cowardly, besotted fool that he was. Which left only the Lord de Guise. Hannibal recognised another monster when he saw one.
So no, Hannibal could not blame the man for wanting dead the boy who saw too much, even if he did not understand enough of what he saw to keep his mouth shut.
I do not know what else you could bring to the matter, Brother Hannibal, but you can by all means hear his last confession, if you like, Lord de Guise said. Before graciously inviting Hannibal the Inquisitor to dine with him at supper. And you as well, Brother Auguste, of course.
The hanging was to take place the next day, hence none had troubled to cleanse or bandage the prisoner's raw and bloody fingertips, his crippled fingers, his broken feet. Hannibal was not adverse to torture per se; it was filth that he could not abide. That, and the debasement of what, by all accounts, was a rare and remarkable talent, by calling it the work of the Devil. Truth was always the product of the greater imagination.
The guard who unlocked the cell for Hannibal also gave him a crude stool. This, Hannibal placed a respectful distance from the small, silent figure curled up in a corner of the cold floor. He sat down and, for appearances, said, Is there anything that you wish to confess, my son?
Curiosity had brought him this far. When the head was raised, revealing a white face anxious, tear-streaked, and eyes bright with both anger and hope - Hannibal thought, No, my Lord, you cannot have him. That would be too easy.
On a Wednesday, two men of the cloth - a Brother Hannibal and a Brother Auguste - had arrived at the village, where they lodged at the adjacent priory for one night. The second night, both were said to have stayed at the castle.
Their departure on the Friday morning before any but the lowest serving maid had awoken, would have not been seen as any occasion particularly worth noting for the community, were it not for a condemned prisoner, whose disappearance was discovered at dawn that same day. After all, two men on horseback in the robes of the Benedictines had come to the castle, and two hooded men were observed to leave. Monks keep such unusual hours, said the man who had been on watch when questioned later, and these two were so visibly keen to return to the priory for the early liturgy.
Needless to say, neither men ever reached the priory.
And though Brother Auguste's robes stood in good stead on the long journey south, the man himself was never seen again. Such is the way and the will of God, for He is infinitely mysterious.
THE END
10 April 2013
Note:
At this point, some of you are probably wondering: So...where did Hannibal hide Brother Auguste???
My guess is the kitchen.
This entry was originally posted at http://the-grynne.dreamwidth.org/980248.html and has
comments.
"Two hundred years ago you would have been burnt."
- Laurie R. King, The Beekeeper's Apprentice
INQUISITOR
Midway through harvest was not ideal time for a hanging - what use was moral instruction pro bono publico if half the village was too occupied to attend? - but Hannibal could not fault the local lord for wanting the accused witch disposed of with haste, before the tide of public fury could turn toward a more rational target.
It had not been Hannibal's intention to dally here more than a night, long enough only to rest his horse, and for he and Brother Auguste to partake of a warm meal and some very serviceable wine at the village priory, before resuming their journey south. When one was asked by the prior to exercise their learned judgement and consult in a delicate matter, however, how could one refuse?
An eideteker, the prior called the boy. Awe in his voice. As illiterate as the rest of the villagers, but put a gospel in front of him for five minutes and he will write you the entire book from memory. Not a single mistake.
I offered to teach him to read, the prior solemnly confided in Hannibal, in return for his working in the manuscript room. But young men of fourteen, they do not have the indulgence of free time, you know. What a terrible thing, that Will should be suspected of such atrocities.
At which point Hannibal nodded grimly, and asked whose permission he would need to speak to the prisoner, Will Graham.
He was innocent, of course. All evidence to the contrary, Hannibal Lecter did not believe in witchcraft. After the poisoners and the itinerants were ruled out, in a community this size, it took someone with power and position to kill multiple men and women, to make the corpses disappear and get away with it. Hannibal did not suspect the prior, cowardly, besotted fool that he was. Which left only the Lord de Guise. Hannibal recognised another monster when he saw one.
So no, Hannibal could not blame the man for wanting dead the boy who saw too much, even if he did not understand enough of what he saw to keep his mouth shut.
I do not know what else you could bring to the matter, Brother Hannibal, but you can by all means hear his last confession, if you like, Lord de Guise said. Before graciously inviting Hannibal the Inquisitor to dine with him at supper. And you as well, Brother Auguste, of course.
The hanging was to take place the next day, hence none had troubled to cleanse or bandage the prisoner's raw and bloody fingertips, his crippled fingers, his broken feet. Hannibal was not adverse to torture per se; it was filth that he could not abide. That, and the debasement of what, by all accounts, was a rare and remarkable talent, by calling it the work of the Devil. Truth was always the product of the greater imagination.
The guard who unlocked the cell for Hannibal also gave him a crude stool. This, Hannibal placed a respectful distance from the small, silent figure curled up in a corner of the cold floor. He sat down and, for appearances, said, Is there anything that you wish to confess, my son?
Curiosity had brought him this far. When the head was raised, revealing a white face anxious, tear-streaked, and eyes bright with both anger and hope - Hannibal thought, No, my Lord, you cannot have him. That would be too easy.
On a Wednesday, two men of the cloth - a Brother Hannibal and a Brother Auguste - had arrived at the village, where they lodged at the adjacent priory for one night. The second night, both were said to have stayed at the castle.
Their departure on the Friday morning before any but the lowest serving maid had awoken, would have not been seen as any occasion particularly worth noting for the community, were it not for a condemned prisoner, whose disappearance was discovered at dawn that same day. After all, two men on horseback in the robes of the Benedictines had come to the castle, and two hooded men were observed to leave. Monks keep such unusual hours, said the man who had been on watch when questioned later, and these two were so visibly keen to return to the priory for the early liturgy.
Needless to say, neither men ever reached the priory.
And though Brother Auguste's robes stood in good stead on the long journey south, the man himself was never seen again. Such is the way and the will of God, for He is infinitely mysterious.
THE END
10 April 2013
Note:
At this point, some of you are probably wondering: So...where did Hannibal hide Brother Auguste???
My guess is the kitchen.
This entry was originally posted at http://the-grynne.dreamwidth.org/980248.html and has
comments.