Retribution (Drakenfeld 2)

by Newton, Mark Charan

  It wasn’t easy to tell if his warmth was staged to hide his discomfort, or if he was being genuine. ‘We’re here to inspect the bishop’s room more thoroughly.’

  ‘Of course, as you wish.’ He guided us through the temple, past those who knelt before the bronze statues of Astran and Nastra, to the rooms at the back of the building. Sunlight flooded in directly through the doors behind, extending our own shadows in front of us.

  ‘It would be better if you attended to any other duties you have,’ I said as we reached the door to the bishop’s room. ‘We will be some time and I’m sure you have so much to do. We’ll come and find you when we’ve finished.’

  ‘Please call if I can be of service.’ He maintained the same expression that couldn’t be read, and then closed the door behind him.

  ‘What do you hope to find this time?’ Leana asked. ‘We know there’s nothing here.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘There must be something that can connect the bishop to Grendor. Now there are two bodies, we need to find that connection. We need to check for every loose floorboard or brick. There’s a pretty good chance that Grendor and Tahn Valin had something in common, so that might well be here. Perhaps there’s a piece of paper with the name of a boat belonging to Grendor. That’s the kind of connection we’re looking for. There must be something.’

  The room remained exactly as we had left it from our last visit – there was just a bed, a table and a few basic necessities. Not even the books on the bedside shelf had changed their position.

  On hands and knees we pulled back the rug and tested for any loose floor tiles. Leana tapped each individual tile with the hilt of her blade, yet they all possessed the same resonance. For some time we examined the grey stone blocks that made up the walls, testing every one high and low, but again we found nothing.

  The room was sound. The bishop had not hidden anything.

  ‘We should be honest,’ Leana muttered, ‘there is nothing here. The priest was a pure and simple man.’

  ‘We’re not done yet,’ I replied. ‘Try the books again, there might be some code or a note within them.’

  The books were all pure and immaculate tomes of religious scripture and advice, each one beautiful with charming ink drawings and elegant calligraphy. We turned every page of every enormous leather-bound volume to make sure there was no hidden document, nothing concealed, no messages inscribed, but there was nothing. The bishop obviously treated his books with respect, too, for they were in splendid condition.

  Leana gently kicked the leg of the bed. ‘Help me move this.’

  We dragged the bed out from against the wall, and investigated the stonework around it, but again there was nothing to suggest anything had been hidden.

  Then we pulled back the sheets of the bed and lifted up a straw-cushioned layer resting on top of the wooden frame. Leana took her blade and slashed through the material, emptying out the straw on the floor.

  I heard a muffled clunk on the stone.

  ‘Wait.’ Leaning over I began to part the mess of straw.

  Right in the centre of the pile was a small square envelope, which looked as if it contained something bulky. Leana reached in to grab it and as we stood up she opened the envelope.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  After scrutinizing it for just a moment, she eventually shrugged and handed it over. ‘See for yourself.’

  Inside was an exquisite silver ring set with a vibrant red gemstone. I couldn’t work out what the stone was – it was too light and almost too imperfect to be a ruby, with a strange translucency. A white mineral vein could be discerned faintly within it, like a bolt of lightning in a crimson sky. Whatever this gemstone was, it had been cut square into the size of a small thumbnail and set with remarkable skill in a four-claw setting.

  ‘For a simple man who doesn’t do trinkets,’ I muttered, ‘I’d say this was something unusual.’

  ‘Why keep it hidden?’ Leana asked. ‘Surely rings are for wearing.’

  ‘Clearly this was not meant to be seen by anyone. Whether or not that’s because of some arcane rules within the temple that forbade decoration, or he was enforcing this secrecy himself, remains to be seen.’

  ‘Remember the bangle on the remains of his wrist?’ Leana said. ‘They allow some ornamentation.’

  ‘Then perhaps this was a personal gift,’ I replied. ‘A token from a loved one.’

  ‘He went to some lengths to conceal a gift.’

  Leana was right. This had been deliberately kept secure. The bishop did not want it found. There were no discernible markings on the ring, nothing to suggest the name of the jeweller in question. The envelope itself was heavily worn.

  ‘Any idea what this stone is?’ I asked.

  Leana held the ring up to the light of the window, then quickly handed it back to me. ‘It is ugly, but I cannot speak of its quality. But then I make a point of not being familiar with trinkets. These precious stones cannot follow us through when we become spirits.’

  ‘Quite. Well, we’ll just have to find an expert in the city,’ I said. ‘This is the most interesting development so far – it could be important.’

  Damsak knocked on the door and called through to see how we were getting on, and it was only then that I realized just how long we had been there. I invited him in to join us.

  ‘Have you found anything to help?’ he asked.

  ‘We may well have.’ Showing him the ring, I kept a close eye on his expression as I revealed where it was found. He came across as particularly disappointed that Bishop Tahn Valin could keep such an item hidden there.

  ‘Look at my fingers, Officer Drakenfeld,’ he snapped. ‘Do you see a ring?’

  I admitted I didn’t.

  ‘Exactly. We do not wear unofficial ornamentation – especially ornamentation that does not display any of our symbols, or is devoid of the markings of Astran and Nastra. Only simple pieces that are to display our rank. This is a personal trinket and we disapprove of such things.’

  ‘I’d say that the bishop knew all too well that you don’t wear such things either, which is why he was hiding it under his mattress. To keep it from people like you.’

  ‘But it makes no sense.’ The priest ran a hand through his thinning hair. ‘This is against his entire character. I never saw the bishop wearing anything like this. He was a man of simple tastes. And, for example, he even became angry when people wore fine, bright silks and jewellery in our temple. He would often make remarks to me afterwards. He himself did not like such things, you see, as it distracted from our glorious gods. All he ever wanted was to serve our gods for as long as he could.’

  ‘We’ll look into the matter further, rest assured,’ I said, placing the ring back in its envelope and firmly in my pocket, ‘and we’ll return with an answer soon enough. I suppose it’s pointless asking you where we might find a jeweller?’

  The look on the priest’s face told me it was.

  We stepped outside into the muggy warmth. Two fragrant censers had been lit and were chained up on the columns either side of us, the smoke wafting gently down the street. We went down a street to where the lanes opened out in many directions and I stood there wondering where we should go next.

  As if reading my thoughts, Leana said, ‘We could just ask someone where—’

  Whoosh . . . In a heartbeat I felt a rapid displacement of air followed by a thud in the door behind us. We turned to see an arrow buried deep in the wood, the white fletching still visibly vibrating, but in the same instant Leana shoved me down some steps and under an archway nearby.

  The arrow was still visible from where we were, and it was angled down – it was a good thing Leana had reacted so quickly, as our assailant clearly had the advantage of height.

  ‘They might not be so unlucky with their next arrow,’ she snapped. ‘That went straight between us. We should wait here until they have moved on.’

  ‘Was that an accurate warning or an inaccurate attempt at kill
ing us?’

  ‘Who can tell now?’

  ‘I wonder if it was the same person as the one spying on us from the rooftop yesterday afternoon?’

  ‘Let us look at that arrow and then we might know something more.’

  We waited a few minutes before walking cautiously back up the steps to the temple. The crowds around us meandered on, seemingly oblivious to the arrow and our own furtive movements.

  Leana removed a dagger from her boot and began to ease out the arrow from the wood. Meanwhile I examined our surroundings to see where the arrow would have been fired from. There were any number of rooftops, but following the line of the arrow’s assumed path, it led directly towards a large building about sixty feet away, at the end of the lane. A precarious grey-stone construct with timber beams. Washing strung up across the rooftop fluttered in the gentle breeze.

  ‘Here.’ Leana handed me the arrow. ‘It looks common enough. There is nothing remarkable about it – not even the craftsmanship is that good.’

  ‘If it’s cheap and mass produced, it might be one that the military use.’

  Leana shrugged and pointed to the same building I’d been eyeing up. ‘You think it came from there.’

  ‘I do,’ I replied.

  ‘Then why are we still here?’

  On the Rooftop

  We were standing in one of the city’s largest brothels.

  It was a fact that surprised me somewhat. Throughout Detrata – and particularly in the city of Tryum – prostitutes of both sexes and of all sizes could be found calling out to potential clients as they walked by in the street. Sometimes the transaction was even shamelessly completed on the street itself. Even in far corners of Vispasia there were taverns or bordellos with not-so-subtle insignia outside to notify passers-by of what could be found inside.

  But in Kuvash there seemed to be a peculiar absence of such things. It might have been yet another sign that the city was trying to keep up appearances. I assumed they preferred to keep things like the business of paid-for sex indoors, out of sight, though whether for religious reasons or some social policy dictated by the queen remained to be seen.

  There were no signs at first on the inside to indicate the building was a brothel. It was only after an awkward conversation with an old lady in charge, who was called Charka, and noticing the stink of sweat mixed with sweet incense, that I realized where we had ended up.

  A large woman with angry eyes, Charka wore a light-green, almost translucent dress and not much else. That was, other than an elaborate headdress that looked not unlike a crown. Queen of this compact domain, she clearly didn’t have time for anyone who was not here to pay for time with her young men and women. Which, of course, we were not. She sat there in her throne room, a red-tiled chamber with dark, minimalist frescoes of geometric patterns on the wall. Two men were slouching, potentially unconscious after ingesting Polla-knows what substance, against the far wall, a strip of sunlight across their faces.

  I explained who we were and that we needed to get access to the top of the building. Our urgency didn’t seem to register with her, but eventually after listening to my incessant demands, and with reluctance, she gestured in the general direction that we needed to go.

  ‘Stairs are at the end, but you watch out for my girls!’ she shouted. ‘No one likes being interrupted at work.’

  Each room was only separated by a thick red curtain, and it was difficult not to overhear the exertions of the clients. Occasionally a face caked in make-up would peer out to regard us and ask if we were after any business. All I could do was smile back awkwardly as we continued on our way along the dimly lit corridors.

  Three floors later, we made it to the stairs and headed straight up them. After pushing back a heavy hatch we stepped out into the brightness of daylight and a gust of refreshing air.

  The roof was more or less flat, with huge stone gutters lining the perimeter. The washing we’d seen from the ground was bed sheets that rippled like banners in the wind. Presumably these were sheets that had been used by the brothel, and if so then the brothel was of a far higher quality than I imagined. But it occurred to me how they would have provided excellent cover for someone wanting to attack us earlier – as well as concealing their presence at this moment. So we remained on guard as we stepped about, looking this way and that in between flickers of coloured cotton.

  With no sign of our attacker, we walked towards the crude stone balustrade. There, I stared down and noticed how there was a direct line of sight from here to the door where the arrow had impacted.

  ‘This must have been the spot where the arrow was fired,’ I said. ‘There’s a great view. This is an excellent position from which to rid the world of two members of the Sun Chamber. Given the vantage point, it makes me think they were trying to kill us rather than send a warning.’

  ‘And yet we are not even close to solving the murders,’ Leana added. ‘So who could feel threatened?’

  ‘We could be closer than we thought.’

  ‘You are ever the optimist.’

  Leana scanned around the surface of the rooftop for anything that may have been discarded by accident, something that might be a vital clue, while I decided to look for the escape route of our attacker. Given the size of the building, it was possible that they might not have come through the brothel but travelled over the rooftops. My suspicion was heightened as I saw other rooftops, each with some hatch that opened up to the level below. The attacker could have gone down any one of those to make their escape. They were probably long gone.

  I strolled back to the balustrade where Leana was now standing, and for a moment we remained engaged in our own thoughts. The wind stirred. Birds skittered across the city. The outside walls of the prefecture were obvious at this height, and it was moving to see how the city was cut up into two large segments. Two cities, essentially. One for the rich, one for the poor, the hills in the distance belonging to everyone.

  We had not been in the city all that long. On the assumption that someone wanted me dead, it was pretty obvious that whoever fired the arrow most likely did not approve of us investigating the two murders. That was the only reason I was here, after all. It was the only reason to have built up resentment.

  Logically, it followed on that whoever released the arrow must then have known something about the killings. There was every chance they were involved in the crimes themselves and looking to stop me finding them.

  Yet, that thought didn’t sit well with me – if they sought discretion in this macabre business, then they were certainly going the wrong way about it by leaving corpses in public places. There was also the other possibility that they didn’t want me to stop them because there were more people to kill.

  I suggested this idea to Leana, who continued to stare across the city, the afternoon sun glowing warmly on her dark-brown face.

  ‘A possibility,’ she said. ‘We can tell very little at the moment.’

  ‘Come on, we’re not going to find much else up here.’

  We went back downstairs and I managed to get a moment to talk with the delightful Charka. She was a little more accommodating now that she had a cup of wine in her hands and a bowl of almonds by her side, which were quite a luxury in any city. I asked her if she’d seen anyone strange pass through and she scowled at me.

  ‘Of course we get strange people passing through,’ she grunted, and scooped up another handful of nuts. ‘You will next be asking if people were behaving strangely! This is a brothel. We get everyone here, and most act strangely. We are Kuvash’s guilty pleasure. People do not want to be seen here.’

  ‘All right, let me rephrase that,’ I continued. ‘Have you seen anyone coming through here who did not seek the company of your staff?’

  She spluttered a laugh and a gentle spray of wine came out of her mouth. ‘Is he for real?’ she asked Leana. ‘“Seek the company”, he says. People come here to fuck, all right?’

  ‘Oh really?’ I replied, ‘I had this down
as a temple and mistook you for a saintly priestess of Polla.’

  ‘Who the hell’s Polla?’

  ‘Never mind, just tell me if anyone came through who wasn’t a customer and who went up on the roof.’

  She shrugged. ‘Not while I’ve been here, which has been all morning. Only people interested in that roof are those on the third floor staring up at its underside while bad lovers work away at them.’

  ‘I doubt love is of any concern here,’ I muttered.

  Charka spoke to Leana as if I wasn’t there. ‘He’s got a sense of humour after all.’

  Messages

  Sulma Tan was right. Kuvash, or at least the Sorghatan Prefecture, possessed an efficient messenger service. While the standard practice across Vispasia was that messengers did their business around a city for coin from individuals, here messengers were subsidized by the royal coffers. The queen thought that the flow of messages and information was necessary for the city to grow and prosper, and therefore worthy of her patronage.

  Such a service was therefore free at the basic level to use for many hours of the day, and there were several messenger stations, no more than glorified shacks, to be found scattered around the city. Young men and women could be seen dashing about wearing a green tunic with a gold sash, heavy boots and a floppy velvet hat bearing the raised red stag of Koton.

  I stood in one of the writing booths at a messenger station, a cold stone room on the edge of a small spice market. The building contained three private desks, made of good quality wood, at which I wrote two letters.

  The first was to Sulma Tan, saying that I wished to meet her in the afternoon. I hoped that she could arrange for Borta to see Grendor’s body, and could I be present while she was with her at the time. I concluded that I would like to arrange for a new place for Leana and myself to stay, suggesting that our safety was under threat. I didn’t go into too much detail, but informed her of the attempt on our lives.