Chronicle of the solution: The Feud of the Abbey
Theft Tier II
What was taken has been found, and the one who took it wears irons today; here, though, is the road that led there.
What the file said when it was opened
In Realm of the Crown, only one thing is spoken of today: a daring theft, carried out almost before the court's eyes. The culprit worked cleanly, but not without witnesses — and the witnesses, at last, have begun to talk. Suspicion has fallen on Sir Bogdan de Fag, Abbot Corvus, Teofil the Chronicler and Codrin the Huntsman — and until the proof is plain, none of these names leaves the room. On the inquiry's table, like pieces in a game, lie the small wine cask, the bronze key, the ciphered letter and the purse of gold coins. Take up the quill, follow the thread of the clues, and set your seal upon the verdict.
Under suspicion stood Sir Bogdan de Fag, Abbot Corvus, Teofil the Chronicler and Codrin the Huntsman. One of them alone lied; the rest, without knowing it, spoke the truth that gave that one away.
The suspects
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Sir Bogdan de Fag
He pawned his armour to pay his tavern debts. Honour, he says, does not rust.
1.85 m tall · blue eyes · brown hair · right-handed
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Abbot Corvus
He raises ravens in the abbey tower. His birds arrive faster than any messenger - and cannot be held to account.
1.78 m tall · dark eyes · no hair · right-handed
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Teofil the Chronicler
He writes the kingdom's history as he is ordered. The unwelcome drafts, however, he keeps every one.
1.69 m tall · brown eyes · greying hair · left-handed
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Codrin the Huntsman
He knows the royal forest better than the castle corridors. Tracks, he says, never lie - men do.
1.87 m tall · green eyes · black hair · right-handed
Locations
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The wharf
Moored boats, wet ropes, and goods that prefer to arrive in the fog.
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The castle cellar
Barrels as big as carts and corners the lantern never reaches.
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The abbey library
Thousands of leather-bound tomes. Some of the chains on the shelves were cut recently.
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The Golden Boar inn
Wine watered down and rumours diluted with nothing. The rooms upstairs ask no questions.
Objects
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The small wine cask
Arin wine, the good year. The bung was pulled and put back by an unskilled hand.
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The bronze key
Heavy, old, its teeth worn smooth. No one knows what door it opens anymore - or so they say.
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The ciphered letter
Orderly rows of meaningless signs. The ink is costly, the paper costlier, the sender - unknown.
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The purse of gold coins
New coins, unworn, from a minting not yet in circulation. Interesting.
Moments
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At dawn
When the citadel is barely waking and the guards still doze.
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After matins
The hour after the morning service, when the abbey empties.
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At noon
Midday, with bustle in the markets and silence in the alcoves.
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At dusk
When the shadows lengthen and the lanterns are not yet lit.
What the Chancellery had to hand
This much was worked with, no more and no less. Minimality is not a figure of speech: each row was taken out in turn, at trial, and without it the solution ceased to be unique.
- In the Chancellery's ledger it stands in black and white: the ciphered letter matches that hour: at dusk.
- The tracks in the dust do not lie: the Golden Boar inn matches that hour: at noon.
- An honest-faced witness saw it plainly: the abbey library matches that hour: at dusk.
- A note in the margin of the ledger: if Codrin the Huntsman handled the ciphered letter, then Abbot Corvus handled the small wine cask.
- Two witnesses, upon their crest: Abbot Corvus was not present at noon.
- The traces left at the scene show it plainly: the culprit handled the purse of gold coins.
- In the Chancellery's ledger it stands in black and white: the castle cellar and the bronze key go together.
- The gate guard swears: Codrin the Huntsman handled the ciphered letter.
- By the order of the hours, first comes the suspect with brown hair, then Abbot Corvus.
Break the seal: the Chancellery's reasoning — warning, the culprit is named beyond this point
The road to the verdict
The Chancellery does not work with impressions. It works with a grid in which every cell has exactly one answer, and with the patience to find it.
From one word to the next, the investigation arrived here: “In the Chancellery's ledger it stands in black and white: the ciphered letter matches that hour: at dusk”. The tick goes down without hesitation, and with it fall all the other cells on that row and that column.
There followed a detail that narrowed the circle: “The tracks in the dust do not lie: the Golden Boar inn matches that hour: at noon”. The cell filled, and around it a space opened: that is what a certain match does to a grid.
The examination of the place yielded this as well: “An honest-faced witness saw it plainly: the abbey library matches that hour: at dusk”. Once the tick was placed, the investigation had nothing left to argue on that row and moved on.
The file thickened quickly, and every fresh page cut something away: “A note in the margin of the ledger: if Codrin the Huntsman handled the ciphered letter, then Abbot Corvus handled the small wine cask”; “Two witnesses, upon their crest: Abbot Corvus was not present at noon”; “The traces left at the scene show it plainly: the culprit handled the purse of gold coins”; “In the Chancellery's ledger it stands in black and white: the castle cellar and the bronze key go together”. The grid emptied before one's eyes, and what stayed in it could no longer be doubted.
Then this finding entered the file: “The gate guard swears: Codrin the Huntsman handled the ciphered letter”. A certain match thus enters the grid, and its row and column empty at once of every other possibility.
The Chancellery began with what could be verified: “By the order of the hours, first comes the suspect with brown hair, then Abbot Corvus”. The finding found its place and never left it again.
The seal on the file
At the end of the grid one name alone remained: Teofil the Chronicler. The arrangement in the grid is this: Teofil the Chronicler was at the Golden Boar inn, handled the purse of gold coins and was there at noon. Nothing was assumed along the way; every step can be redone with a pencil on paper.
Those taken out of the circle
The innocent were not left without a story; each had a place of their own: Sir Bogdan de Fag was at the castle cellar, handled the bronze key and was there at dawn; Abbot Corvus was at the wharf, handled the small wine cask and was there after matins; Codrin the Huntsman was at the abbey library, handled the ciphered letter and was there at dusk. Every one of these rows was necessary: take out a single one and the verdict can no longer be demonstrated.
Whoever reads this chronicle years from now will find in it less a deed than a method.
Play this dossier All mysteries
Nothing in this chronicle is invented: the text rises out of the dossier's logic, and the dossier passed through the solver before publication, so that its solution is provably unique. behind the scenes at the Chancellery.