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The fifty used the verb deliberately, and watched Carthos's eyes harden. Silence hovered for a moment, then the thousand allowed his chair to come back upright.
"As it happens, Fifty Sarma," he said, "I've already received a report on the events you've described.
According to Five Hundred Neshok—and the corroborating testimony of five of his men who were physically present at the time—the dead prisoner attacked the Five Hundred. Exactly what the lunatic thought he was going to accomplish eludes me, of course, but five reliable witnesses—six of them, counting the Five Hundred himself—all agree that the prisoner managed to get his hands on one of the guard's weapons and that Five Hundred Neshok killed him in self-defense."
Sarma's jaw dropped. He couldn't help it ... but he managed, somehow, to stop himself before he actually said anything.
Carthos' expression hardened ever so slightly, but the thousand kept his own voice level.
"I commend you for your obvious desire to see to it that Two Thousand Harshu's standing orders extending the protection of the Kerellian Accords to any prisoners we take are adhered to, Fifty. And I assure you that any possible violations of the Accords will be investigated most carefully. In this case, however, given the existence of half a dozen witnesses, all of whose testimony corroborates one another's, I suspect that you've overreacted to a situation in which you weren't privy to all the facts."
Sarma got his mouth closed again, locking his teeth against the protests which hammered upon them from behind. Gotten his hands on another guard's weapon, had he? Then perhaps Thousand Carthos could explain Just how that had happened when the dead man's hands were still chained behind him as he was dragged out of the interrogation room like so much slaughtered meat. Or explain where those screams had come from, or the reason for the savage beating the first prisoner had obviously sustained.
But those, Jaralt Sarma knew now, were questions he dared not ask. Not now, not here. Perhaps never, but definitely not today.
"I see, Sir," he heard his own voice say levelly. "You're right, of course. Obviously, I wasn't aware of all the details. Nor was I aware that you were already so well informed about the incident. I ... apologize for wasting your time at a moment like this."
"Nonsense, Fifty," Carthos replied. "No officer is ever guilty of 'wasting' his superiors' time when he believes that something as serious as you obviously thought had happened has occurred. A deliberate violation of the Kerellian Accords?" The thousand shook his head. "The Articles of War themselves are quite specific about the responsibility of any Union officer to report something like that, after all."
"Yes, Sir, they are. I still appreciate your being so understanding, though."
Sarma was distantly surprised that he could get the words out without gagging, but he managed.
"Don't worry about it, Fifty." Carthos' smile somehow failed to reach his eyes, Sarma noticed. The thousand paused for a moment, then arched one eyebrow.
"Was there anything else, Fifty Sarma?"
"No, Sir," Jaralt Sarma said. "Nothing else, Sir."