Drakenfeld (14 page)

Two heavily built servants admitted us into Veron’s wonderful rectangular garden, which was rich and sensuous, filled with wide-leaf plants that weren’t domestic varieties. A dozen
scents were being emptied into the evening sky, jasmine, marjoram . . . smells that blended with cooking aromas coming from the house. From inside came laughter and gentle music from a lyre. It
seemed ridiculous that a house could be so big in Tryum: built on one level, it was set back from the streets, and designed in the city’s typical style, with regular columns, a symmetrical
facade, decorated with thin lines of painted details, but it was too dark to perceive the full array of colours.

Cressets burned outside and above the entrance way, bright yellow beacons against the indigo sky. There were braziers lit amidst the foliage throughout the garden, encouraging exploration and
secret conversations in the half-light.

We were welcomed by two more of Veron’s serving staff, each garbed in a rich silk tunic, before the senator himself came forward to greet us.

‘Ah, Drakenfeld! And . . . Leana, isn’t it?’

She nodded.

‘Thank Trymus you’re here, Drakenfeld,’ Veron said, his annoyance plain to see. ‘Ever since General Maxant arrived he’s been boasting of his bloody conquests. We
need some intellectual stimulation. Quote a philosopher or two. Make something up about the stars. Anything to redirect the conversation away from savage topics.’

‘I’ll see what we can do,’ I replied.

There were at least three dozen people scattered around Veron’s mansion, many of whom I recognized from the night at Optryx. People were gathered in their fineries, in gold-trimmed cloaks,
plush tunics, beautiful dresses and necklaces. Faces soon turned to regard us as we mingled. I noticed how the walls of Veron’s house were well painted, with scenes of cities from the myths,
where the gods dwelled. Mosaics were many coloured, the lanterns crafted from bronze. It was clear that Senator Veron had great personal wealth and I wondered idly where it came from. Incense mixed
with the scent of spiced meats, which were carried about on trays by attentive servants. General Maxant was there, dressed in his military finery and his deep-red cloak, accompanied by two women
who appeared to be in awe as he spoke to them.

Veron pointed out one man, dressed unusually in crimson breeches and a bold red tunic, with all sorts of delicate decorative details, as Cettrus the Red, one of the riders from the Blood Races.
‘Now I know people will frown on us cavorting with people so far down the social scale,’ Veron said, ‘but the riders are popular men. It adds a little excitement to proceedings
– not to mention making me seem an eccentric host.’

‘Is your wife here?’ I asked.

‘Atrella? No, no – she’s away on business. She’s left me with the much harder job of entertaining this lot. Did you meet Senator Divran, by the way?’

‘I did, yes.’

‘Doesn’t she send a shiver down one’s spine? Did she do it then – murder Lacanta?’

‘No. I don’t think so. Do you know how Divran’s husband died?’

‘Oh yes, quite a scene – not to mention a mess.’ Very briefly, Veron confirmed Divran’s descriptions to be accurate, though he added his own particular sense of
colour.

There was a strange hush as we were guided through the house, many people stopping their conversations and openly staring at us. I could feel Leana tense at my side.

Veron clapped his hands for the lyre player to cease.

‘Please,’ I whispered, ‘no need for formalities on my account.’

‘Nonsense!’ Senator Veron announced me with my full title, as the new officer of the Sun Chamber for Tryum, son of Calludian, and assigned to investigate the murder of Lacanta. He
then introduced Leana as my assistant and gave a brief version of how we met. ‘We will expect more details of such a story tonight!’ he finished, then turned to me as the chatter rose
again, and spoke slyly. ‘You’re not wedded in any way, you two?’

‘No,’ I confirmed quickly, as I noted the outrage in Leana’s face.

‘Good,’ Veron replied. ‘There are several women here who have been dying to get their hands on you.’

‘Oh, I’m not really looking—’

‘No one ever looks,’ Veron said, ‘but if the gods decide it’s the right moment, there is no need to fight against their cosmic will.’

As Leana smirked at my discomfort, Veron steered two young women into view, one a black-haired lady with olive skin and wearing a green dress, the other with lighter hair, yet piercing blue
eyes, and wearing an outfit that matched them. The women immediately began talking to me – or rather, talking at me. This had not been my plan for tonight: I did not come here to seek a
bride, but answers. Yet they did seem rather charming . . .

I felt a sharp nudge in my ribs from Leana and a look that told me I’d better not be distracted from the case or abandon her to these people, but before she could glare at me too long,
Leana was then guided towards one of the trays of food by another guest.

It turned out the women Veron forced upon me, Aemilia and Messalina, were wealthy daughters of senators and lining themselves up for the Senate one day. They seemed pleasant company, but I could
tell they were more interested in my position within the Sun Chamber than me personally. There was a wide-eyed look about them that made me feel as if I was just another rung on a social
ladder.

When they said they were at Optryx the previous night I steered the conversation immediately to the murder. They had both been disturbed by the events. I asked them if they knew Lacanta in
person and, as predicted, they replied in less than favourable terms about her behaviour in the company of men.

‘She liked to break hearts,’ Aemilia confided. ‘It could have been any one of fifty men who killed her – and any one of fifty women, for that matter. Though most likely
it was someone using illicit magic. It could quite easily have been some servant hiring a soothsayer or curse-trader, someone who has nothing better to do than dredge up discredited gods.
Disgusting.’

‘Why do you say it was magic?’ I asked.

‘Illegal cults,’ Messalina replied, and leaned in as if we were conspiring. ‘I’ve heard tell that such cults brought a farmer back from the dead – from the very
hands of the gods, wouldn’t you know? It just isn’t right, if you ask me.’

‘You’ve heard tell,’ I said.

‘You don’t seem convinced?’ she asked. ‘Oh I know, I know. I’ve met people like you before, people who don’t believe in the other realms.’

‘Though I admit my job can make me question matters too much, I believe there are many mysteries,’ I replied. ‘But in my goddess’s writings, we tend to apply logic first
and foremost. Only then can we begin to delve deeper into the unexplained – once reasoning has been ruled out. It is how she differs from, say, Trymus, whose followers deal mainly in faith
first, questions later – if at all. That is why she remains the only god associated with the Sun Chamber.’

‘Be careful,’ Aemilia said, stepping back from me as if I’d been cursed. ‘It is simply not wise to speak ill of the gods.’

‘I respect everyone’s faith and everyone’s gods,’ I said. ‘We live in a cruel world, so if people can find comfort, so be it. Trying to play gods, though . . .
that’s something else entirely.’

‘Well, you might rule out magic, but who are you to say it doesn’t go on?’ Messalina asked. ‘And it seems that Lacanta associated herself with such dark arts, given the
number of marriages she ruined.’

I still could not match these descriptions of Lacanta’s public life with her more austere, private chamber. It was as if she had been putting on a show – but why would that be?

‘Was she ever caught in the act with anyone?’ I asked.

‘Oh no. Never. She was too cautious for that.’

I asked for names of those individuals with whom Lacanta was most intimate, but the ladies could only provide gossip and rumour based on lingering glances and suggested dalliances – none
of which could provide the foundations of a solid investigation.

In the corner of the room, Leana was involved in a conversation with Veron and a crowd of guests. ‘I should really see if my assistant is coping.’

‘We saw she came with you. Are you comfortable doing business with something like that?’

‘Like what?’ I demanded, noting how they viewed Leana with some disdain.

‘Oh, you know.’

Indeed, I knew. Making my excuses to the two ladies, I walked across there, just in time to hear Leana finishing her account of how we met.

‘How extraordinary,’ one of the older men wheezed, captivated by the tale.

Veron was looking at Leana with more than a hint of lust. I felt on my guard – not that he would harm Leana, but that she might harm him.

‘Wonderful accent, isn’t it, Drakenfeld,’ Veron said, catching my eye. ‘The way the vowels are extended, that each word is pronounced with consideration. I know you
taught her Detratan, but what does she speak usually?’

‘Sarcasm, for the most part,’ I replied. ‘No, she speaks our own tongue – at her own insistence, as well as our convenience – but she’s been known to curse me
in Atrewen from time to time. I think she’s reached a good level of Detratan. She’s even schooled me in Atrewen, though I’m not sure she’s taught me how to swear. She saves
such choice words for herself.’

‘It’s all so fascinating,’ Veron replied. ‘Now, I think it’s time you told these people some proper tales from the road. We long to know of the wider Vispasia. I
long to know of anything from beyond the Senate building. What wonders have you seen?’

Though I was not looking forward to discussions with Veron’s guests, I did not exactly dislike being surrounded by people eager for me to speak. I had been schooled well
from a young age in rhetoric – as was essential for all of us in the legal profession – and it was not just a boon in the law courts. People loved a good story.

‘I once met the Gold Queen,’ I began, to audible gasps. ‘It was deep in the heart of Dalta, a nation where women have far greater rights and privileges than men.’

‘Nonsense,’ a man said.

‘It’s true. As a man it makes me really understand the position of women in our own nations – having experienced the opposite. The Gold Queen is the heart and soul of the
Vispasian Royal Union, with much of the mineral wealth – and she knows it. She’s more arrogant than any king, and more beguiling than any lady I have set eyes upon. She dresses in
nothing but gold-coloured cloth, and her body is weighed down by her excessive jewellery so that she rarely leaves her immense bedchamber. She sleeps there, eats there, bathes there, and dictates
the entire business of Dalta from a horizontal position.’ I smiled at one of the more prudish-looking ladies nearby. ‘She experiences a lot of her pleasure at the same angle. When she
needs to inspect the provinces of her country, to check on local officials and accountants, a good number of slaves carry her there on her golden bed.’

‘Were you on a case when you saw her?’ a woman asked. I took her to be a senator, too, judging by her stately clothing.

‘Did you see her in her bed?’

‘Was she clothed?’

I smiled at this bombardment of questions. ‘I like to think she took a shine to me, but as for the rest, I’m afraid I’m not allowed to say . . .’

I repeated similar pieces of information – how I saved Prince Bassim from an assassination attempt in Venyn City, of the Ziggurats of Locco, the Skeleton Prince of Gippoli – pausing
in all the right places, allowing for natural drama to fill the gaps in what I had to say, leaving them waiting on key moments so that they would remain interested, and trying my best to recall my
rhetorical training. This was, after all, partly why Veron wanted me here, so I did not wish to let him down after he had been so kind to me during my return. Even Cettrus the Red seemed impressed,
though he did not speak to me.

They were most impressed by my having travelled to Free State, a neutral yet heavily fortified territory; there once a year, within a sprawling village comprised largely of temples, all the
kings and queens of the Vispasian Royal Union gathered to discuss the affairs of the world and hold each other accountable for their own nation’s contribution to Vispasia, to pass new laws
and to remove old ones. From that nation, everyone’s futures were to be decided. Though they seemed in awe of my travels, they seemed to be rather dismissive, if not fearful, of other
nations, particularly those closest to the border, Maristan and Koton. They quoted the king on his dislike of Free State, too, suggesting yet again a desire to return to the days of Empire.

The guests – some of whom were very high-ranking clerks and officials – could not get enough of the tales, so it wasn’t until a little later in the evening that I gladly broke
free.

At that point, my throat was dry and I badly needed a drink.

Suitably replenished, I managed to take Senator Veron to one side. ‘My apologies for getting down to business on a night like this, senator, but do you have the names and
addresses for those actors who were present at Optryx?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘I managed to speak to the Censor earlier today, and he noted them down for you.’ He slipped away into the crowd, then a moment later returned
with a cup of wine and a scroll of paper, which he handed to me. ‘The Skull and Jasmine theatre company,’ he said. ‘They’re rough sorts, from a rough part of the city, but
name me a thespian who isn’t a dodgy fellow.’

‘Thank you.’ I slipped the scroll in my pocket.

‘What do you think of the ladies?’ He gestured around with his cup. ‘Charming, aren’t they?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Not your sort?’ Veron frowned as if I was some puzzle he needed to decipher. ‘If you want a male companion, we can set you up with one of those. One just tends to ask about
women in the first instance – an old habit really.’

‘Neither will be necessary,’ I insisted.

‘Are you certain you and your assistant aren’t wed? I rather admire the darker-skinned women. Much more adventurous. They’ll let you—’

‘Quite certain,’ I said.

Parties turned people into strange creatures. I don’t know whether or not Veron was drunk, but he was starting to remind me why I had been so happy away from Tryum all these years –
that, at night, and in these circles, people would reduce each other to sexual commodities. ‘I’m afraid my career permits little time for affairs of the heart,’ I said.