The Silence of the Blazon
Someone slipped poison where it did not belong, and now the whole court eyes its goblets warily. Between remedy and venom runs a thin line, and someone at court crossed it knowingly. Suspicion has fallen on Safta the Herbwife, Chamberlain Iorgu, Ilinca the Baker and Mother Evghenia — 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 ermine cloak, the small wine cask, the bishop's chalice and the abbess's bell. Study the testimonies at your leisure, fit them into the grid, and pronounce your verdict without haste.
Suspects
She gathers herbs at hours when honest folk sleep. The herbs, she says, speak then.
1.58 m
right-handed
green eyes
greying hair
He arranges the king's audiences and, for a small courtesy, the order in which petitions are read.
1.77 m
right-handed
grey eyes
brown hair
She weighs flour to the gram and people at a glance. No one stays in her debt twice.
1.62 m
right-handed
brown eyes
chestnut hair
She runs the abbey with an iron hand and a golden pen. The register of donations has pages she shows no one.
1.60 m
right-handed
dark eyes
black hair
Locations
The wheel turns day and night. Its noise drowns out any conversation - which is why some are held here.
Slanted desks, ink, and working silence. Here a quill creaks louder than a conscience.
Sealed crates, thick ledgers, and air that smells of undeclared goods.
Wine watered down and rumours diluted with nothing. The rooms upstairs ask no questions.
Objects
White fur with black tails - only the royal family may wear it. It has a tear at the hem.
Arin wine, the good year. The bung was pulled and put back by an unskilled hand.
Gold set with blue stones. Blessed three times, stolen twice.
It calls the nuns to prayer. On the night in question, they all say, it rang once too many.
Moments
When the citadel is barely waking and the guards still doze.
The hour after the morning service, when the abbey empties.
Midday, with bustle in the markets and silence in the alcoves.
When the shadows lengthen and the lanterns are not yet lit.
Open the Grid (below) to solve the case, with the testimonies at hand.
Touch a cell: blank → ✗ (excluded) → ✓ (certain) → blank. Each pair of categories meets exactly once.
| SUSPECTS | LOCATIONS | OBJECTS | |||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| MOMENTS | |||||||||||||
| OBJECTS | |||||||||||||
| LOCATIONS | |||||||||||||
Verdict
The culprit always lies; everyone else tells the truth.
- The chronicler notes drily: the suspect with brown hair handled the small wine cask, whatever the court may say.
- The tracks in the dust do not lie: the Golden Boar inn and the abbess's bell go together.
- The traces left at the scene show it plainly: the culprit was at the mill by the river.
- The night watch saw the suspect with brown eyes first, and only then Chamberlain Iorgu.
- One thing is certain: the hour "at dawn" and the scriptorium do not share the same match for suspects.
- An unsigned note, slipped under the door: "the culprit handled the ermine cloak".
- The tracks in the dust do not lie: the suspect with brown eyes was in the place where a quill creaks louder than a conscience.
- An honest-faced witness saw it plainly: the suspect with dark eyes handled the abbess's bell.
- The chronicler notes drily: the ermine cloak matches that hour: at dusk, whatever the court may say.