Retribution

Further Analysis

We locked ourselves in the medical chamber once again in order to study the head in detail. We brought lanterns around the bishop’s head, its macabre decay even more hideous with the warm light, and leaned nervously over it. Leana had her blade in her hand — and I did not caution her that it was unnecessary. She must also have believed that this was a ridiculous way to behave, to be wary of something that was clearly untrue, yet neither of us mentioned this.

It is strange how we seem to absorb what other people say to us, even if it goes against our instincts. Anecdotes, even the convincing one provided by Sulma Tan, can be inserted into our heads without our being aware of the full effects. Here I was, glad that Leana was on standby in case this head would. . what exactly? Bite my fingers? It was a severed head, one that had been removed for some time. It could do no harm. Yet my heart beat a little faster as Sulma Tan pointed out the trail of still-glistening saliva around what was left of the mouth and along the bruise-coloured, heavily wrinkled cheek.

‘And so you can see for yourself,’ Sulma Tan said, somewhat relieved that she could share the burden of knowledge, ‘that I am not making this up. You may choose not to believe what I say about the moving hand, however, or indeed the fact that the head had rolled out of position. But at least this is evidence.’

Leana was impatient with both of us and leaned close, almost nose to rotting nose, to get a better look.

‘It could be that some bug has left a trail,’ she muttered. ‘A slug. Something has sought nutrients from his decaying mouth. I have seen such things before. You worry needlessly.’

‘You were holding your sword,’ I replied. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice.’

‘For your peace of mind only.’ Leana leaned back with an air of satisfaction.

‘Shall we dissect it to find out?’ I asked.

Sulma Tan nodded. She commenced cutting around the lips to gain access to the mouth. She carved with all the delicacy of a fresco painter setting about applying colours to fresh plaster. There was an art to this, too, I realized, as she placed a piece of flesh to one side.

This process went on for some time, pulling layer after layer of skin and flesh away and placing the pieces on a metal dish, rooting down to see if there was anything of note. Minutes turned into an hour, maybe more. I was impressed at her skill. Here was a royal secretary, someone whose life had been spent on more important matters, cutting away at a corpse’s face with a sound knowledge of science behind her.

Eventually, after some consideration, Sulma Tan concluded, ‘There is nothing here. No creature of any kind, no trail left. The saliva was genuine. How do the two of you explain this now?’

We stared at each other for some time, the silence heightening our sense of confusion. Our contemplation was interrupted when a knocking came at the door, and a voice called in Kotonese for Sulma Tan.

‘Please excuse me.’ Sulma Tan washed her hands in the small bowl to one side before engaging in a short conversation at the door.

Leana whispered to me, ‘The creature could have long gone.’

‘Or it was never there in the first place,’ I replied.

‘Spirits save me, you believe the ghost stories instead?’

I was about to mutter something sarcastic, when Sulma Tan closed the door and marched back to the table. ‘Borta has arrived to look at Grendor’s body. Out of respect we should not keep her waiting, no?’