Drakenfeld

First Steps

Though the remainder of the night was humid, I slept peacefully enough, and dreamt of falcons soaring over my house in a most unnatural manner.

After waking, I was prompted to make an offering to the small shrine to Polla, which my father had kept in immaculate condition. There, in the corner of the open hallway, with a cool breeze passing across my back, I muttered the purifications in an attempt to clear my mind, channel some of her essence, and to think logically.

How had Polla coped in a crisis? When she had been alive all those centuries ago, before she had become a goddess and assumed a position of power, she had been a remarkable lady, living through times of deep religious and political strife, when women were treated abysmally by their societies, and never failing in her quest to understand the world better, to fathom her position within the universe. Praying to such a figure each morning was always inspiring.

Bellona provided a hearty breakfast: despite the events of the previous night I was famished, and devoured the minced pork and flatbreads. Leana had been up for a little while and joined me just as I was finishing. She had been to the Forum to see what people were saying of the murder, but it seemed no one had even heard the news yet. Or if they had, they were too afraid to talk about it.

After breakfast, I took a moment to walk around the house trying to familiarize myself with my past once again – it was an uncomfortable process because in some ways I didn’t like to be reminded of the person I had once been. The small details were fascinating: indentations in chairs that had come from years of sitting; the well-worn wooden surfaces on the sides of tables. The echoes of my father lived on in these areas of wear and tear.

Also, I noticed that an item had gone missing from a table in my father’s bedroom. There was a square within the dust that indicated something had stood there once, but had been taken away. Perhaps a few weeks ago, since some dust had settled in its place. Was it significant in any way?

While Leana worked through some martial exercises in her room, in my study I looked at the sketch she had made in the temple on the night, examining the structure and dimensions, where the shrine was located, where the body of poor Lacanta had lain, and where the doors stood firmly barring entry to the chamber.

So Lacanta had been spotted moments before she had been found dead. That meant, in five or ten minutes, someone had managed to break her away from the celebrations in the main room, steer her into the temple, and kill her, before going back outside. But the celebrations were at their height and, as Veron pointed out, at that point those temple doors would have been watched by guests right up until the moment General Maxant entered to don Trymus’ mask. What’s more, the door was locked on the inside and murderers do not just vanish into the air.

Who had one of the keys to the temple?

Tracking Lacanta’s final moments last night was going to be crucial. It was essential to find out who she had spoken to in the evening, who was nearby, who might have been following her, whether or not there were any strange occurrences. Perhaps the witness statements would prove fruitful. It would require a good day or so ploughing through their observations – that is if the soldiers could be trusted to record a reliable account.

Also, I needed to get a better idea of who would want Lacanta murdered, though that would not be an easy task. By Lillus’ account at his barber’s shop, a concise summary of rumours, she was both popular and despised, depending on whether or not one was the recipient of her alluring gestures.

Conscious not to be late for my appointment with King Licintius, I washed, changed and made to head out into the morning sun. But before I did I asked a favour of Leana: to see if the people of the city were talking. So often a lead had come off the back of local gossip that turned out to be more than just idle chatter. It was also useful for Leana to begin exploring the more marginal parts of the city, the hidden taverns and the backstreet dice dens, which might develop into useful points of contact in future.

We were going to be around in Tryum for a while.

The soldiers manning the entrance to the open courtyard in front of Optryx were not interested in my badge of office, though I did need to give the day’s password, which Veron had told me last night. Security was tighter now – was this a reaction to the murder? If indeed it was, it had come far too late.

The building was quiet, not at all what I assumed would be the bustling residence of servants, administrative staff and politicians in full flow. Senator Veron met me and steered me towards a small side room with a highly polished desk, marble floor, and shelves full of books. Judging by the abacus, it must have been some kind of accounting or stocktaking room.

Inside was a dark-haired man in his early forties wearing military garb, a deep red tunic, leather breastplate, and with a sword sheathed at his side. Dark, short and well-oiled hair, and with a wide yet lean face, he was muscular, confident and relaxed. Reaching out with his right hand, he stood to greet me. His forearm was incredibly solid, and it had been a while since someone had gripped my own arm so tightly. Though I was a relatively tall man, he looked down on me. Small scars of battle were dotted about his face.

Senator Veron conducted the introductions: ‘General Maxant, may I present to you Lucan Drakenfeld, Tryum’s new officer of the Sun Chamber.’

Maxant stared intensely with his bold, hazel eyes. His manner was proud. ‘The son of Calludian returns home.’

The words sounded like some kind of accusation. ‘You knew my father?’

‘Not well, but we met many years ago. I remembered him to be a good man. Honourable, reliable. Keen eye for detail. I hope this remains a family trait.’

‘As do I. I’m sorry to meet you under such circumstances.’

He turned to the desk and gestured to two pieces of paper. ‘We matched a register taken last night to the guest list. Everyone is accountable. Everyone has at least another to vouch for their presence. Everyone who was invited remained here until released.’

‘Very effective work by your soldiers, general,’ I said.

‘Good men, my lot. We’ve been through much.’

I could only imagine the exertions of a long campaign. Maxant’s army had been abroad for years. They had lost ten thousand men over that period, had fought many battles and skirmishes, and at one point faced starvation. For them to have stuck at it so long would have required a phenomenal sense of loyalty and leadership. Indeed, they had been through so much.

I looked at the guest list. People had been arranged into classes of status, from the men and women of the Senate through to respected citizens of the city. ‘These weren’t the only people here last night. Where are the lists for the staff, the soldiers?’

Maxant nodded. ‘We will get a list of them and let you know if there is something of note. As for the actors—’

‘What access did they have?’ I asked. ‘What were the productions, how long were they in the building?’

Maxant looked to Senator Veron, who shrugged. ‘I’ll ask around. We’ll get the answers – don’t worry.’

‘I would appreciate that.’

‘King Licintius wishes to see you shortly,’ Maxant announced. ‘We have a few moments yet before we must go.’

Senator Veron moved to the shelves to glance at the books. ‘How’s he been since last night, general?’

‘How do you think?’ Maxant snapped. ‘Licintius is devastated. He loved his sister deeply. Their bond was strong, and who else can he really trust? Everyone thinks they can do a better job. Him and his sister were left in powerful positions at a young age with only each other for confidences, so I suspect he feels utterly alone now.’

‘Indeed, it’s very sad, very sad,’ Veron said. ‘Still, at least he has his general back now to confide in.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Maxant stood a little taller as if to express his dominance in the room. Veron seemed oblivious to the fact, merely raising one eyebrow at the now-bitter tone of the general.

Veron shrugged. ‘Only that you’re an old friend, and no doubt he’ll be glad you’re back to help him through this.’

Maxant grunted and turned his back on the senator.

‘The Senate will discuss the matter shortly,’ Veron continued. ‘We must see to it that we establish some firm facts before the rumours spread across the city. Of course, if Drakenfeld here is as sharp as his father, hopefully we’ll have no need to worry about rumours.’

No matter how sharp I might be, it wouldn’t stop people talking.

We exited the room and were absorbed into a larger contingent of officials and soldiers, twelve of us in all. Hushed instructions passed back and forth: ‘You wait for the king to arrive. You fall to two knees – not one, do not bow – two knees. Do not look him in the eye until he has spoken.’

Our group passed through the marble corridors and under the immense domes once again, which were even more impressive in the light of day. We did not walk by the temple. I wanted to return to the scene of the crime in the hope of working out the mechanics of the incident without the distraction of others.

The huge chamber we entered next left me awed. I had never seen such artwork adorning plaster like this – not in quantity, style or clarity. Every vacant wall space was covered in hugely expensive hues, great vistas or scenes from the myths of our lands – that looked so real they could have been alive. Large windows pierced the walls. Through one of the lower ones could be seen the rooftops of Tryum, and the little plumes of smoke from domestic hearths. A city as yet unaware of the crime that had been committed against its monarch.

We were instructed to stand in the centre of the room. The floors were made of highly polished white marble; bold red pillars lined the chamber like a temple, leading to steps up to a cushioned throne. Made of dark wood, the throne was carved in such detail that it couldn’t be appreciated from where we stood. Nobody spoke. The faces of the others betrayed their anxiousness, although Maxant seemed relaxed.

Moments later, after the clattering of a few doors, two soldiers of the King’s Legion led a man into the room.

Those around me fell to two knees while I, a Sun Chamber officer, needed only to fall to one – a quirk of Vispasian law that left me on a par with the greatest citizens of Tryum, but more nervous than it should have. Those nearby had their gazes fixed on the marble floor. Even the mighty General Maxant did not look up, though both he and Veron were on one knee also.

‘Please rise, all of you,’ Licintius called out. ‘You know I tire of ceremony when matters are of a serious nature.’ His voice possessed a lovely timbre, but was weighed down by melancholy.

Everyone rose to their feet while an aide to one side whispered in Licintius’ ear. His blond hair was wavy, in the style of the military heroes of the old Empire, and he was dressed in a purple tunic that, on closer inspection, contained a spectacular amount of subtle detail in the stitching. His highly polished boots were light brown, matching his belt. There were a couple of items of jewellery around his wrists, gold bangles, a surprisingly effeminate decoration for a king. Everything about his composure, the slight upturned angle of his jaw, the way he held his arms, all suggested years of practice to perfect the look of noble dignity.

Licintius nodded and regarded the rest of the room, moving his gaze across the gathered faces. ‘Lucan Drakenfeld?’

Being in the presence of kings always made my heart beat just a little faster. Licintius stepped forward to meet me. His eyes were a piercing jade colour and he gave off complex scents, reminiscent of jasmine and citrus. Close up he looked a little older, but he couldn’t have been many more years advanced than me, perhaps in his mid-thirties at most. His face was broad and lean, much like Maxant’s, yet Licintius was a slight man, and not anywhere near as tall.

We did not touch in any formal greeting, but surprisingly he placed a firm hand on my shoulder and gave me a sad smile. ‘Your presence is indeed welcome here.’

‘I’m honoured, but regret our meeting is under such circumstances. You have my deepest sympathies, sir.’

‘Sympathies… Yes, you do understand, don’t you? A lot of people have been saying that word to me without really meaning it, but you lost your father recently, did you not? We share in our grief.’ He looked back to the others and called over to them: ‘Please, talk amongst yourselves while I see to business with the Sun Chamber.’

Licintius steered me to one side, far away from the ears of the curious. ‘You will find whoever did this to her, won’t you?’ he whispered urgently. ‘You will see that they are brought to justice?’

‘I’ll do my very best, sir,’ I answered. ‘However, it is a puzzling mystery.’

‘Witchcraft,’ the king breathed. ‘I have heard of dark matters in the Senate in recent months. They have tried to harness the powers that belong only to gods.’

‘It is one option.’

‘I have another,’ the king added. ‘That she was assassinated.’

‘Was anyone a threat?’

‘Who was not? Foreign princes were lining themselves up, and she turned them all down.’

‘Her marriage was not your decision, then?’

‘No. I’m no northern barbarian. She could choose her own path.’

‘Are there any such foreign princes you think might have been responsible?’

‘A royal wouldn’t have done it himself. He’d have an assassin do his bidding, of course, but I’d place money on the attack having derived from Maristan.’

An old rival of Detrata, and one that had suffered greatly under imperial rule, Maristan stood just to the south of Detrata.

‘What will it take for you to find the killer?’ the king asked. ‘What help do you need from me?’

Taking a deep breath, I rapidly weighed my options. ‘If it isn’t much trouble, I would like to see Lacanta once again, though perhaps after your physician has seen to her.’

‘Of course, Drakenfeld. I’ll have my physician meet you after this and you can go with him.’

‘Thank you. I’d also appreciate two other things, if I may be so bold as to ask.’

With a tilt of his head he indicated for me to continue.

‘One is access to the Temple of Trymus once again, just to take another look at the scene. The second is to have access to senators, and over the next few days I’d like to speak to those who attended the party last night.’

‘You think one of them is responsible?’ The king looked concerned by the implication. ‘I know they like to stab each other’s back – figuratively, of course. Not here. Not in Tryum – this is no tribal backwater. We are a civilized people.’

‘I’d like to keep my options open.’

‘I’ll see to it that you are granted free access and I will address the Senate personally on this issue.’

I gave a short bow of thanks, but wanted to ask him more. ‘I may also have a few extra questions for you to help locate Lacanta’s murderer. No one knew her as well as you did.’

Licintius gestured with upturned palms. ‘If you have something to ask, please go ahead.’

I glanced back to the whispering crowd behind us. Maxant towered silently at the back next to Veron, who seemed to be smiling at one of the women nearby.

‘Did anything last night strike you as particularly out of character for anyone? An argument perhaps.’

Rooted to the spot, the king descended into deep concentration. He looked almost angry, and his momentary silence made that all the more potent.

‘Nothing odd, as such,’ Licintius said. ‘No. There were a few people upset at the actors I brought in, but that is to be expected when the classes mix. It does them good, though, whether they like it or not.’ I noted the promise of a smile, but nothing more. ‘There was a row. One or two of the grander families did not appreciate me bringing foreigners into Optryx. They don’t like those from abroad – they don’t trust our neighbours.’

‘What happened after that?’

‘Nothing. It all quietened down thankfully.’ The look of sadness on his face grew. ‘I do wish people would be more open-minded in this city.’

‘But other than that – there is nothing that comes to mind? Nothing in the days leading up to the event? Please, anything you suggest could be vitally important.’

He reflected on the matter for some time before saying, ‘Two nights ago, while out riding in the country, one of my men pointed out two meteors to me – one following another, and each with a large tail. Do you think it could mean anything? My astrologers suggested it meant the gods were displeased. Do you think such things would be connected to her death? Why else would it have occurred in the temple, if it was not the business of gods?’

‘I am afraid such matters are out of my area of expertise,’ I sighed.

Licintius glanced down at the floor and his silence was profound. ‘I will send a messenger to find you when I have more time for you to ask your questions, Drakenfeld, and we will talk in private. Now, sadly, I have too little time to grieve. Others demand my attention.’

With a look of profound weariness Licintius marched back to the group. In a quiet, firm voice, he enquired who was next.