Vincent held the letter in front of him, the text lit by several candles on his desk. John knew what it said, same as the one that was sent to Jamie and Daniel;

You ally yourself with a murderer and a coward. John Cromwell must pay for his sins with trial. He is guilty sure as the sun rises, and he must face justice. The inquisition is not without mercy, however. If Cromwell returns of his own will, you yourselves will be spared your share in his punishment. Sheltering and cavorting with a man such as this will surely taint your soul. I beg you. John Cromwell is without redemption. Cast yourself off this burning ship and live.

Long live the Church and the Order,
High Marshal Adams

“I have to go, Vincent,” John said, holding his copy of the letter, the one sent to Jamie. Other people had gotten them, including Jacques, manager of a bar in Radasanth, and Jor, monk of Ai’bron. He crumpled the paper in a massive right hand as Vincent retorted.

“You don’t though! We can protect her, John,”

John scoffed, feeling his hackles rise. “You don’t even know how they planted that letter on you, Vince, what am I supposed to make of that? These people can be anywhere.”

“Then I’ll go with you. You’ve got to know this is going to be a farce of a trial! They’re not gonna let you walk out of Salvar, and you know it! I’m not gonna let them do that to you!”

John stood, the letter gripped in an iron fist. “And what, Vincent? You’ll kill anyone who gets in your way? These people are fanatics, they’d die to kill me. I know these zealots, you can’t reason with them! Are you going to kill hundreds of people?” Vincent opened his mouth, but John cut him off. “No, I can’t have the blood of another family on my hands.”

Vincent looked down. John knew Vincent’s morality wouldn’t allow him the luxury of making the right decision here. “When are you going,” he asked after a moment, staring at the letter.

“Tonight. I can’t risk Jamie’s life any more than I already have.”

Vincent stood, offering John his forearm. They clasped forearms for a moment. “When you get back you’re gonna get an earful from me, y’hear?”

John tried to smile, but couldn’t muster up the effort to feel optimistic. He merely nodded, turning to leave. As he left the deepest recesses of the Tarot hierarchy, he spotted Rayleigh sitting in one of the common areas, her bubbly aura conflicted with how he felt. She looked up, smiling as he passed.

“Going out?”

John sighed. “I guess so, I need a drink.”

“Oh, nice! I was just about to head out myself! I know a great place down the road a ways once we get into town,”

John resigned himself.

“Sure.”