Drakenfeld (31 page)

The first Drakenfeld to be buried here was my grandfather, who was the first senator to gain his position based on his exploits as a general in the military, rather than because his fortune was
large enough to bribe the right people to prove he was a citizen of good standing. I never knew whether or not he approved of his son, my father, joining the Sun Chamber – the subject
wasn’t one that was raised all that much. He built up his wealth yet remained true to his mild-natured and humble roots: this small, domed mausoleum contained just four pillars no taller than
me, and a relief of Polla. The elaborate structures either side featured intricate facades and bold architectural statements.

Nearby a few people walked with offerings in their hands through a ruined colonnade, and a family was dining at the foot of one nearby structure, chatting merrily in the sun.

‘What an incredible place.’ Titiana gestured to the row upon row of fascinating monuments surrounding us, each one unique in some way. ‘This really is a whole other city just
for the dead. They say on auspicious nights that such places become alive with ghosts, and figures of bone lose themselves in the surrounding hills.’

‘That’s why we make sure to keep the mausoleums locked,’ I said and smiled. ‘I can’t be doing with dead relatives hassling me in my sleep.’

‘I’m serious,’ Titiana said, with the wonder of a much younger woman. ‘All stories have their roots in truth. Besides, I’ve used such tales more than once to make
the children behave and go to bed on time.’

We dismounted from the mare and for a moment simply ambled along the path in separate directions, each in our own world of awe and respect. Titiana seemed happy enough so I wandered among the
stones noting the family names and trying to recall their position in the city.

Suddenly a figure caught my eye walking among the structures, and following me. He – at least, it was dressed in the clothing of a man – wore a tattered and ripped cloak, but
otherwise his tunic seemed fine, if a little colourless. He looked at me, wide holes in place of his eyes; and no sooner had that thought registered, than he turned to flee through a wide avenue of
mausoleums. I moved quickly to catch up with him, but could no longer see him.

Senator Divran told me to walk among the tombs and a small part of me wondered if the figure had been her creation. Shaking my head, I retraced my steps – I knew better than to believe in
such fantasies.

Titiana was waiting by the mare, but didn’t seem interested in where I’d been – she was too entranced by my family’s mausoleum. I reached into my bag for the urn carrying
my father’s ashes, and passed it to Titiana momentarily, before pulling out a heavy key. After unlocking the iron gate, which had rusted somewhat, we stepped into the dark sanctuary of the
mausoleum.

I left the key in the lock, out of the way.

After the brightness of the daylight it was difficult to see the details at first, and there was a prevalent musty odour. Beneath our feet was a yellow mosaic floor featuring the two-headed
falcon. Alongside it was the icon of the cross of the founding gods, representing where both Trymus and Festonia marked on the ground the very position where Tryum would be built. I searched around
for the right spot, slid back a stone cover and placed my father’s ashes down alongside my mother’s.

‘You rarely spoke of your mother,’ Titiana said.

‘I hardly knew her, if I’m honest,’ I replied. ‘She died when I was no more than five summers old. I know far too little about her, because my father didn’t often
mention her name. An aunt once told me that it was because he never really let her go after she died. I have memories of her, though, glimpses that come back to me now and then.’

‘What was her name?’

‘Mawya. She came from the deserts – from Locco. People often told me she possessed such beauty that passers-by would stop her in the street to tell her so. I think people’s
memories can be kinder than the reality, but I’m reassured she was kind and gentle-natured, and always thought the best of people no matter how they treated others. I vaguely remembered her
singing songs of the desert to me but . . . well, after that my upbringing was with my brother and my father.’

‘That would explain your inability to talk plainly with women,’ Titiana joked, and I was glad of her lightening the mood. ‘Will you be buried here one day? That must be a
sobering thought.’

‘So long as there is someone here to remember to bury me – and someone who can be bothered to bring my ashes all the way up that hill, then yes.’ Solemnly, I drew back the
heavy stone lid and set it in place with a clunk.

We stepped outside into the daylight once again. With my mind somewhat exhausted by now, I lay down in the long grass with a sigh, regarded the pearlescent blue sky and enjoyed the warmth. The
leaves and branches of a nearby tree stirred in the soothing breeze. Titiana lay down next to me, resting her head against my shoulder, her sweet floral fragrance drifting over me.

I wanted never to rise from that spot.

When the sun reached its zenith I felt it was time to return to Tryum. I decided to take one last look at the mausoleum to preserve the image in my mind, as I did not know when
I would return, but then realized the key was still in the lock with the metal gate closed. It hadn’t locked – of course it wouldn’t, because the key had not been turned –
but for a moment it looked as if the ghost of my ancestors had placed the key there.

Placed the key.

Of course.

We strolled down the gentle slope towards the horse. The city stood before us and, from here, we could clearly see the clash of architecture of new and old, the harsh contrast
between itself and the farmland surrounding it; and the river that stretched out towards the sea a mile or so beyond. On a day like today, I wished to immerse myself within that deep blue
liquid.

‘How is your investigation going?’ Titiana asked.

‘I’m afraid I’m not able to talk much about it,’ I replied.

‘I see. Lucan Drakenfeld, keeper of state secrets.’ Titiana laughed warmly.

‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s more for your own protection. The fewer people who know about my life, the fewer lives are in danger. I wouldn’t want you to lose any sleep
because of something I said.’

‘I’m not afraid.’ Titiana linked her arm through mine, and I missed a breath feeling her skin brush against my wrist. ‘Besides, the whole city is talking about it.
Rumours in the markets suggest all sorts of fanciful possibilities. I’ve heard priests say that the spirits of former Detratan emperors were responsible because they disapprove of the newer
royals.’

‘I would have trouble arresting a ghost.’ I gave her a very limited account of what I’d seen so far – enough to satisfy her curiosity, I hoped, but nothing that would be
the seed of gossip. The last thing I wanted was for rumour to spread in one quarter of the city, attracting the king’s interest. I knew how fragile his mind was over this situation, and I was
reluctant for him to send his soldiers chasing gossip.

‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’ Titiana said.

I contemplated the view once again before glancing at Titiana, beguiling Titiana. Words could not express all my hopes and frustrations right then. I had of course lain with other partners in
the past, but either because my life was one continuous journey or I could not let go of the past, none of them really compared to her – or at least my memories of her.

‘Where do we go from here?’ I asked. ‘I want to see you again, but you’re married. That said, you’re certainly someone who seems to care less about being seen with
me today than she did last night. Does this mean I am forgiven?’

‘You apologized to me for what you did,’ she replied eventually. ‘That was something you were too proud to do the first time around.’

Titiana pulled back on my arm as I was about to step up onto the horse. Her eyes seemed even more enchanting in the light of the midday sun. I felt an awkwardness develop between us.

‘You’re married,’ I said. ‘It’s as simple as that. I get it. You have a reputation to protect, as do I.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I wear a wedding bracelet and nothing more.’ She faced away from me now, and towards the city. ‘I barely see him. I barely see anyone but my family.
They say if you’re a rich woman you can rise to the Senate these days. Well, not from where I am you can’t. A woman’s place lower down the city is confined to her husband’s
shadow.’

‘It doesn’t have to be like that.’ I longed to tell her of what it was like for women in places like Locco, where men and women shared the responsibilities of raising a family,
lest it bring shame on him; even Dalta, where women ruled the nation, not just the home. Not everywhere was reluctant in leaving behind the ghost and structures of its empire. ‘Titiana, right
now I can promise little more than I did all those years ago. At least, not until the Lacanta murder is solved. After that, who knows? I have money now and no parents to dictate my
actions.’

‘Will you ever find the killer though?’ Titiana brushed her hand along the side of my head and I held her wrist in place, hoping she would never let go of me. ‘The way you
speak about it, you might as well be looking for a ghost.’

‘Perhaps I am.’

Her lips rushed to mine and I felt the surge of intensity in my chest. For that endless moment, on that hillside with the dead looking on behind us, nothing seemed to matter. The years fell away
and it seemed as if I was enjoying the carefree times of my youth – no pressures, no concerns, just the present moment.

My hands moved down to her waist and I pulled her against me. Meanwhile the breeze came in tenderly from the sea, bringing with it the invigorating scents of the landscape.

We rode back in a comforting silence, Titiana in front of me, my arms around her waist. Occasionally I would kiss the back of her neck and she would tilt her head forward to
permit me access.

Her tunic was of an impressive quality and I wondered if she had brought out one of her better garments today. Sometimes one could read too much into what a potential lover might wear,
constantly divining for truth in the slightest of details.

She said that she wanted to make her own way back, alone, to her neighbourhood, so I left her just inside Vellyum, on one of the better streets. I asked where she lived but she wouldn’t
tell me ‘in case I turned up drunk one night pining for her company’. She was smiling, but it was clear that I was not to go with her, and I thanked her for coming with me this
morning.

She disappeared through the hectic lanes before I even had the opportunity to ask when we could meet again. I imagined – and hoped – that she would find me soon enough.

The final stretch of the journey, to return the horse and reclaim my deposit, was spent in melancholic thought. Titiana’s departure had left me feeling rather isolated and I quietly prayed
to Polla that my goddess might spare some of her light for me.

Leana was standing in the shadow of a Temple of Festonia, a block-like building quite unlike the other temples in the city, and one that was in much need of renovation. The
two-headed goddess had lost one of her arms, though I assumed the statue’s angry expression was carved before someone broke it off. It seemed a shame to treat the gods with so little respect,
but that was the least of the district’s problems: a couple of crippled old women limped by, while skinny, almost-naked men prostrated themselves before tavern owners or merchants for coin
– the men of business standing over them were the new gods in this district.

‘How did it go?’ Leana asked, still examining the people milling about the courtyard.

‘I’ve put my father to rest now,’ I replied. ‘Anyway, what have you seen today?’

Leana walked me around the area in which General Maxant would be making his declaration to the neighbourhood about his intention to go into the Senate on their behalf, all the time explaining
what she had seen.

‘He is to make his speech from a balcony behind the local Temple of Trymus.’

‘So Maxant moves to prove his loyalty to the city’s founding gods,’ I suggested. ‘A safe tactic.’

‘You can see the recent graffiti on these walls,’ Leana continued. ‘There are political slogans about his conquests and his suitability for the role. Look carefully around the
paint; there is writing that is insulting to other men.’ She showed me one example, which suggested, in rather more crude terms, that a man called Gerrantus liked to commit sexual acts with
animals. ‘Gerrantus is the senator of this contested neighbourhood. More over here, also.’

Leana showed me several other pieces of graffiti along these lines, and some with the curious allegation that Gerrantus was responsible for killing Lacanta by summoning evil spirits.

‘I’d have to check, but I don’t recall his name being present on the list that night,’ I replied. ‘He’s certainly not on the one Veron gave me, of those who
were close to Lacanta.’

‘It would not be the first lie on these walls,’ Leana said. ‘More.’

We walked behind buildings, away from the main traffic of the city, towards a cluster of men who were loitering beside a pastry stall, eating and generally laughing and joking in an easygoing
mood. They were dressed in the kind of everyday clothing that people wore around these parts, grubby tunics, ripped trousers and sandals.