"Of course not." Cortin couldn't blame her for that, though getting immediate information would have been helpful. "All right, bring them over one at a time. It shouldn't take more than two or three questions to separate them--though with you and Colonel Bradford talking about unexpected problems, I could be wrong."

"Not exactly," Bain said. "Best you see for yourself, though; to me, it's at least close to the worst of the Brothers' atrocities."

Cortin frowned, more puzzled than ever. A Brothers' atrocity she hadn't heard about seemed impossible, but Dave believed what he was saying, and Brad was nodding agreement. Well, she'd learn about it in a few minutes, from the ones who'd done it. "All right, have the first one brought over."

Bain turned to face the holding pen and gave the appropriate hand signals, then turned back; moments later, troopers brought the first prisoner out. He looked about 45, his expression frightened, but seeming hopeful as well--not at all a normal reaction, and it puzzled her. She frowned to herself, but decided her curiosity would have to wait. "Were you in charge of this raid?" she asked.

The man shook his head. "No, Lady," he said respectfully. "I wasn't in charge; I'm not even a Brother."

"True. Well, then, do you have any information you think I might find useful?"

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Lady."

Cortin frowned again, this time openly. He was afraid, yes--but his fear seemed to be of the idea she'd think him a Brother or have any information, which was interesting. And worth pursuing, even though she was supposedly here to evaluate prisoners. "Not likely that you have any information, or not likely I'd find it useful?"

"Either, Lady. I'm an honest farmer. Or was, till those bas--uh, Brothers--killed my wife and kidnapped my little girl. They said they'd kill her too, unless . . . unless I helped them." His shoulders slumped. "They've probably killed her anyway--or worse. But I can't take that chance."

Cortin took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Dave was right, she thought; this was one of the worst of the Brothers' atrocities, and it made her coldly furious. Forcing outsiders to help in horror-raids by threats to their families went beyond her conception--until now--of even the Brothers' depravity. "I believe you," she said, and showed him the back of one hand. "Any Inquisitor who wears this mark knows when someone's telling the truth, and no one who hasn't committed a crime will be punished. You'll be taken to the Detention Center, though, for detailed questioning. Enforcement will use any information you can give us to try to rescue your daughter, so be as thorough as you can; sometimes a tiny detail you think useless can be the key.

After that, I'm afraid, you'll be kept in protective custody--" She broke off at his expression. "Protective custody, I said! Think, man--if we turn you loose, the Brothers can still use that threat against you. There's no guarantee what'll happen with you and whoever else is in the same situation in custody, but there's no doubt what'll happen if you're not. And I'll see it's as comfortable for you as it can be. Do you know how many others are in your situation?"

The man shrugged. "Maybe half of this group; I couldn't say how many anywhere else. You will save Catherine?"

"We'll do our best," Cortin promised. "In fact-- Colonel Bradford?"

"Yes, Excellency?"

"Can you arrange for a special Enforcement task force devoted to finding these . . . hostages?"

"As soon as we return to base, Excellency. And may I suggest you offer these men employment in Archangel under Strike Force protection until their families can be rescued, or confirmed dead?"

"Mmm. It would give them something to do and provide income . . ." She turned to the man. "Would you be interested in that sort of offer?"

"Yes, if it was something I could do--better than sitting around sweating it out."

"Reconstructing and fixing up some prewar buildings," Bradford told him. "Headquarters for His Majesty's Strike Force, and Her Grace's Archducal Palace and Enforcement headquarters."

The man looked from Bradford to Cortin. "I can do that, Lady. Thank you. And I believe you will find Catherine, if she's still alive."

"As I said, we'll do our best." Her job-related questioning over with this man, she thought it reasonable to ask about his odd phrasing.

"Now--why do you keep calling me Lady?"

"I can't think of any other good term, Lady."

"Interesting," Cortin said slowly. "I have plenty of t.i.tles, yet you pick one of the few I can't claim. Who or what do you think I am?"

"Not think, Lady Protector--I know." The man knelt, bowing his head.

"I've just confessed to the Priest-Captain--may I have Your blessing?"

Cortin looked at Odeon, feeling a twinge of dismay. This man honestly believed she was the Protector, not just His Herald--and that was a frightening idea, one she wanted to deny. Odeon was nodding slightly, though, and Jeshua had told her not to deny it if she were called either Herald or Protector--so she blessed the man, then raised him to his feet, disturbed by the expression of open worship on his face. If she couldn't deny being the Protector, she supposed she'd have to learn to live with that att.i.tude--but she didn't think it would be easy.

"One last favor, Lady, if You don't mind?" the man said hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"I'd . . . like to pay You the proper respects, if I knew how. The right ceremonies, any special devotions . . . You know."

That was something Cortin could understand and agree with; even if the man was misdirected, piety was important to the Protector's success.

And if one Aspect told her not to deny being its object, surely the Triune would take it as it was intended . . . She turned to Odeon.

"Will you and Lieutenant Chang see to that, Captain?"

"With pleasure, Excellency," Odeon said, then turned to the man. "Want a cartridge, until Lieutenant Chang and I can brief you? I usually carry a couple of spares."

"Cartridge? Oh!" The man's initial puzzlement turned to eagerness.

"Yes, Captain, please. Does that mean you're Her priest as well as Jeshua's?"

"Lieutenant Chang and I, yes; Her priests'll generally be working in pairs." Odeon dug into a pocket and handed the man one of Joanie's holy-medal equivalents. "This isn't as helpful as the Communion of Promise, of course, and certainly not up to the Sealing, but we'll get those to you too, as soon as we can."

"I appreciate that, Father." The man turned to Cortin, genuflected.

"Thank You, Lady."

"My pleasure," Cortin replied--realizing, to her surprise, that it really was. She turned to Bain. "See that he and the rest who turn out to be press-ganged are interviewed, thoroughly but courteously, then interned according to the terms Colonel Bradford and I discussed."

"Of course, Excellency." Bain turned to the man. "Shall we go? Her Excellency has a lot of work to do."

As they left, Cortin signalled for the next prisoner to be brought.

This one also turned out to be a conscript, but the next two were actual Brothers, and the one after that looked like Shannon, though his eyes told her he wasn't; he was the leader, despite his attempts to deny it. She had him held separately, to be taken to the Lodge, then continued the evaluation.

She'd lost count of how many she'd questioned, but only a few remained in the holding pen when she realized she'd seen this one before, in far different circ.u.mstances. Smiling grimly, she rubbed the backs of her hands as though the Seals on their backs were still scars.

"Colonel?" Odeon said softly.

"He helped put the originals there," Cortin said, just as softly. "I recognize him; I want him to recognize me too, and I look a lot different from the way they left me." The man's face was burned as deeply into her mind as the Brothers' marks had been into her hands; while this one hadn't been the leader, he'd had no hesitation in taking part in the ma.s.sacre, or in helping to beat, rape, and maim her. She planned to really enjoy this first truly personal part of her revenge, she thought as the guards brought him to a halt facing her. "You know me," she said, making sure he saw the backs of her hands. "You helped inflict the originals of these, among other things; I'm sure you remember."

The Brother's lip curled. "I remember all right, b.i.t.c.h. Next time you won't get off that easy--the Raidmaster says we're going to have real Inquisitors of our own soon, with His Holiness' blessing--so we can free the Systems of you and your blasphemies!" He grinned at her, not pleasantly. "And dear G.o.d, how I'd love to see them playing with you!"

"If you enjoy threatening, go ahead," Cortin said, a little surprised at herself. She'd thought she might be frightened if--or rather when--she came to confront her torturers again; she was pleased to find that this time, at least, that wasn't the case. She was more disturbed by the idea of trained terrorist Inquisitors working with Shayan's backing. At the moment, though-- "I doubt you'll be around to know if your threats are realized, much less enjoy the results. Lieutenant Pritchett?"

"Yes, Excellency?"

Odeon's voice interrupted, urgently. "By Your Excellency's leave!"

Cortin glanced at him in surprise. "What is it, Captain?"

"This is one of the Brothers I also have a personal matter to settle with, Excellency. A severe beating of someone I love, in addition to the other things done to her."

So that was his personal reason for joining the Strike Force! It'd taken her long enough to learn it, Cortin thought, since she hadn't thought it a good idea to ask him. "In that case, Captain, yours had best take precedence. Just make sure, please, that he isn't damaged too badly for questioning."

"No worse than second stage," Odeon promised. He'd like to do more, but he wouldn't interfere with either her job or her revenge.

"Lieutenant Bain has agreed to monitor, to a.s.sure that."