Onlookers crowded around the entrance of the late Lord Sawah’s house, witnessing a standoff. The tension was thick enough to swim in. The four knights stood with their rifles extended, staring at Grehn’s sword, Vlugh’s pistols, and the gently flowing arms of Elofan. Other than Elofan and the onlookers, the only movements were the shaking shoulders of Muweh Sawah, who was standing between the furious weapons with tears flowing from her eyes.

“Please, valiant Knights, I don’t think it could have been these people. I brought them in the locked door myself.”

“Are you going to entertain this nonsense, Commander?” Herwen said with a sneer. “Who else could have killed the Lord? I bet they’re getting paid with a commoner’s fortune for such a heinous act.”

“No violence… please, no violence…” Muweh didn’t move from her spot. The narrow entryway meant that neither party could do anything without hurting her. And so they could do nothing but make empty threats.

“Missus Sawah, you understand our suspicion, don’t you? How convenient that Mister Sawah should be murdered in his home, which these three were waiting at, soon after their arrival in town,” Greyan said slowly, not taking his eyes off the group.

“Yeah. Convenient. Almost extremely so, wouldn’t you say, mister Knight Commander?” Grehn responded in his whispered tone. It was a useful manner of speaking in such a stressful situation.

Greyan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you implying, mercenary, whose name was also conveniently never mentioned?”

Grehn didn’t respond, his point clear. He and the other two knew for a fact that they were not the killers, quite obviously. However, they didn’t have enough of a case against the Knights either. In fact, their innocence was nearly fully corroborated by the fact that Ben had been watching them since they stepped foot in the bar. All except for one of the four.

“If you can’t provide us with evidence of your innocence, we will have no choice but to take you into custody. No violence will be needed if you come peacefully.”

“You expect us to believe that?” Vlugh said. His voice was not nearly as soothing as Grehn’s. “If you really are the murderers, then that means you’re taking us in to frame us. And even if you’re not, we have no reason to trust your word. You’ll deem us guilty and pressure us to admit to a crime we didn’t commit. No winning for us.”

“Please, all of you, stop. Every second you waste in this standoff is another second that the killer remains hidden. I want justice for my husband, but I want real justice. I want his killer, with no doubt of their guilt. As far as I’m concerned…” Muweh said as she looked slowly towards the Knights, “you four are the most suspicious in the town.”

For the first time, Greyan looked away from the trio and stared, incredulous, at the little old lady standing defiantly mere centimeters away from his bayonet. He paused, then slowly lowered his weapon, to the surprise of his team.

“Commander, what-“

“Stand down. We’re going to cooperate.”

“But Commander, you’re not seriously going to go along with this-“

“Listen.” He turned to his squad and to the people outside watching with bated breath. “A man was just killed. The leader and crown-recognized Lord of this town, no less. My team is innocent, but I understand that the Knights are not viewed favorably right now. Regardless, we are on your side, on the side of Somuia’s people. We will cooperate with Miss Sawah to find the killer and exonerate ourselves in the process. Until the killer is found, not a single soul will leave the walls of Lemonholm. That includes you mercenaries and your fernen companion, of whom I am still wary. This will be a peaceful investigation. Violence will be reserved only in turn to violence. Now. Stand. Down.”

Greyan’s words carried a pressure not unlike a forceful display of Mind, and the tension was forcefully crushed by his strength. His soldiers reluctantly brought down their weapons, as did the trio. They never imagined that a simple trip to find food would turn into a full-blown murder mystery.

“Thank you, Knight Commander,” Muweh said, “I am grateful. But please, let me rest for a moment. Just a moment.”

The elderly woman hunched over, like a tree bowing in the wind. Greyan moved quickly and Grehn tensed, but instead of attacking, the soldier grabbed the woman and supported her. As he led her to a chair, the mercenaries and other Knights stared at each other. Grehn and Vlugh grimaced simultaneously. This temporary truce would just be the precursor to a massive, annoying situation.

As it turns out, murder mysteries get complicated quick. Especially when most parties can be suspected of guilt, and there are severe gaps in status and notoriety.

“Once again, I don’t understand why you are the ones being allowed to ask questions. Aren’t you just as much under scrutiny as we are?” Grehn said to Herwen.

“And I repeat: we are Knights. Authorities of the crown itself. Naturally, we would be the ones conducting the investigation.”

They stared at each other across a table, surrounded on all sides by glaring townsfolk. It was a far cry from a traditional interrogation. The knights had requested privacy in order to question each member of the trio, but Muweh and the various citizens of Lemonholm immediately shot the idea down. So, they ended up dragging a table and a pair of chairs out to the center of town, near a crumbling stone fountain, and were asking questions in broad daylight, surrounded by a throng of curious onlookers.

“What are your names? What is your purpose in Lemonholm? Can that purpose be vouched for by a trusted member of a sanctioned mercenary company? Can you corroborate the story of waiting for over an hour outside of the Lord’s home without noticing his murder? Explain the presence of a fernen amongst your group.”

“See, these questions don’t actually help anyone. My name is Grehn, my companion, the Drevan, is called Vlugh, and the fernen is Elofan. As I originally stated to your Commander, we’re here on a small, diplomatic quest at the behest of paying Yiwi citizens to acquire additional food supplies. Ask anyone at Hayrey and Sons’, our employer. I know you don’t believe me, but several people passed and harassed us as we waited for the Lord to emerge. You could ask them. Or even his wife, who looks like she wants to bite your head off right now. I don’t see how the fernen is relevant to this issue,” Grehn said in his ever-calm voice. He leaned forward.

“Actually, why not make this a two-way conversation? It really is odd that we didn’t notice the Lord’s murder, isn’t it? It’s also strange that, as per your very own investigation headed by a Knight Commander, no signs of forced entry were found. Clearly, we wouldn’t have been able to enter the building, as we needed Missus Sawah’s keys to enter. Did I mention keys, as in plural? Or the various protective measures the late Lord so painstakingly put in place? The Lord’s home is protected heavily, so even subtle forced entry seems far-fetched. It makes more sense that trusted figures, who were already meeting with the Lord, and who just so happened to be alone with him prior to our arrival, would be able to enter his home alongside him.”

Grehn’s accusations were a combination of his own observations, along with some argumentative wording courtesy of Belphegora. She was barely involved at all, mostly keeping the entire debacle at the back of her mind. Even Beatrice had stopped paying attention entirely, busying herself with other matters. The truth was, they didn’t care all that much what happened to the humans or Elofan. Most of the bees didn’t To them, the only concern was the survival of Ben and Beelzebub, and until it seemed like they were in any danger, the situation is Lemonholm was of little interest.

Despite all that, Grehn’s talking points were clearly quite convincing. Several of the already doubtful Lemonholmians began to turn their ire towards the Knights, and the small group of three rigid warriors found themselves surrounded by a question: did they do it?

Herwen, to his credit, didn’t appear fazed on the outside. But he was being silent, which told Grehn all he needed to know. He was nervous, unable to respond to the claims. He didn’t know the man very well, but he was clearly a scion from a noble upbringing who was used to getting his way, so being confronted like this must’ve been uncomfortable.

“Compelling argument, mister Grehn.” Greyan gently pushed through the crowd, followed by Elofan and a pair of burly Lemonholm men. They had been investigating the house further, as nothing of note had been found the first time around. The mercenaries and several people from Lemonholm hadn’t let the Knights out of their sight; the mercenaries were beginning to feel no small amount of gratitude for the constant paranoia in the heart of every person in this town. Even if they wanted to, the Knights would have no chance of planting evidence to incriminate the mercenaries further.

“But as many holes as there are in our story, yours is a bit more far-fetched. For instance, we have specific eye-witness accounts that show Meyara did not follow mister Sawah all the way to his home, and so none of us Knights were ever in the proximity of his murder. You yourselves say you encountered her storming towards the bar. Which way did you say she was coming from again?”

He waited. When Grehn didn’t respond, he continued. “Right, from an alleyway near the shoe store. And to arrive at the Lord’s home, you need to turn and go in a different direction. Perhaps not the most compelling evidence, but your own word seems to be held in high esteem. As for the time you spent at his home, you still seem unable - or unwilling - to explain it. We do not know of your Abilities, and we are wholly ignorant of the capabilities of the fernen, so we must take you for your word that you were unable to enter his home undetected as well. In my eyes, what I’m more concerned about is the motive. Why would someone want to kill the Lord? You know our mission. You know our current reputation. Killing the Lord serves no purpose and provides no benefit. All it results in is disorder and pain. Perhaps our mission is false. I see you wanting to ask that. Even so, killing the Lord in broad daylight gives nothing to the Knights. Or to the Kingdom itself. So I wonder, what could mercenaries from Yiwi stand to gain from killing the Lord of a nearby stable town? Power and influence, perhaps. Supplies, as you claim? Or a reward, most likely. Assassination is not an uncommon task doled out to those in your profession.”

Greyan’s arguments were far from rock solid, and he knew it. Grehn saw it on his face. It was subtle, but there was the barest hint of something there, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was saying. But he couldn’t be sure if it was actually because the Commander had been responsible for the Lord’s death in any way. More likely, it was because neither party had a definitive case against the other, and equally shaky grounds for their own innocence. Rather than proving who was the innocent party, it felt more like they were arguing about who was less guilty.

“If we’re talking about motive, I couldn’t begin to imagine what yours might be. But to say you could have none is pretty willfully deceptive. If you were commanded to kill someone, I have no doubt you’d do it. But there’s one more thing bothering me. Why did you just so happen to arrive, guns blazing, just as we found Lord Sawah’s body? Forget the impeccable timing; you knew something was wrong and came in full force.”

This time, Greyan was the one rendered silent. That detail was the smoking gun, so to speak. Mumbles arose in the crowd as the tide shifted. There were few supporters of the Knights remaining, or so it seemed. Greyan spoke again.

“…It was I who urged my team to move. I sensed an alarming signal of Mind coming from his house. There is nothing else I can point to.”

“That’s not an idle piece of evidence. The Commander is notable for his sensitivity to danger. It is recorded in the public works of the Knights,” the Knight Jey said, stepping forwards. The other Knights also stepped forth to surround Greyan, acting as shields for the shorter man. Just like when they first entered the bar, they cut an imposing figure when they stood together, like a wall of muscle and thick fabric and shiny medals.

Suddenly, a new, unknown voice spoke up over the whispering crowd.

“Um, I changed my mind. I don’t think it’s you Knights anymore.” Everyone turned, finding the speaker to be a young man with a bare hint of stubble just barely growing in. Greyan glowed, happy to finally be trusted.

“Is that so, lad? Tell us, then, why do you think so?”

The young man swallowed, steeling his face. “You Knights are alright. Everyone says you’re terrible, but I just don’t know. My cart had a busted wheel when you arrived a couple days ago and you helped me bring it back into town. You carried the dang thing on your backs. I was scared of ya’, but I’m starting to think you’re alright. I think it was old man Seyorohon.”

Without warning, he brought his finger up and pointed… at a random person in the crowd.

“What! You idiot boy, Yojer Sawah was my best friend. He was like a brother to me!”

“Exactly. You must have a reason to kill him. And a way to get into his house.”

“Well, what about Betty? She always hated that his lemons always won the yearly Lemon Rodeo!”

“Oh screw you, old man. My lemons were always the best, that’s for sure. But I’m not gonna kill a guy over some stupid lemons!”

All at once, the crowd devolved into a mass of shouting and flying fists, with the original accused parties stuck in the middle. Accusations flew left and right, everybody seeming to have some motive, capability, or opportunity to commit the murder. Nobody bothered defending themselves; instead, they decided to throw accusations towards others in retaliation. The Knights tried to calm the increasingly violent brawl, shouting over the screams and holding people back, while the mercenaries attempted to shove their way out to avoid injury. What had been an intense investigation only moments ago had quickly turned into a bloodbath. In the middle of it all knelt Muweh Sawah, sobbing at the sight as the sudden violence swirled around her. She didn’t attempt to stop it.

As it turns out, murder mysteries can get complicated quick. Especially when an entire town can be suspected of guilt, and the only people involved don’t trust a soul.