Retribution (Drakenfeld 2) (34 page)

We spoke for a while about what that might mean, but concluded only that it ruled out further eccentricities in the killer. They were not leaving bodies in any pattern in the city, and the streets themselves were not significant – merely that they were all within the wealthy prefecture. I had hoped that we might, by now, be able to see that the murders were concentrated near to an area of potential workshops where the torture of the victims might have been carried out. Since the murderers were leaving the bodies in public places, it followed that there was a place where torture could be carried out. It hinted again that there was more than one killer. How else could the bodies be carried about the city so discreetly?

We moved the conversation on. I informed Sulma Tan about Allius Golt, that he was trustworthy and that he would soon start working for me.

‘A good idea, though we may have to keep the issue quiet for the time being,’ she said. ‘The queen doesn’t necessarily trust her staff as it is. Strangers? Who can say how she will react. But do not worry – I will ensure Allius receives the official passwords.’

‘I’ve heard she can be distrustful of others. Tell me, why is that?’

Sulma Tan appeared uncertain for a moment, as if not wanting to open up. ‘She won’t say, but it is more than simply being worried the clans will one day get to her. She thinks them powerless for the most part, but . . . I can see her eyeing soldiers as they pass through her court. Yes, there is a look of disdain that I once thought was related to status, but recently I have considered that this has nothing to do with that. What she gives them is a look of fear, I believe, and it is genuine.’

‘Fear?’ I repeated. ‘What does she have to be scared of?’

‘Being dethroned. The same as any monarch, am I correct? Having read through passages of writings in other cultures, as well as our own, I have seen a common theme running through them all.’

‘Which is?’

‘Fear of losing a power granted to them by others. A queen or king is not merely born – they are
made
by others, they are maintained by others who give awed looks and arrange courtly rituals. We act around them as if they are gods on earth. Who can say what effect that will have on an individual’s mind if all day long people behave in such a way? And the thing is, though people can make a queen, people can just as quickly
unmake
one. The queen perhaps realizes this fact and takes it to heart.’

Her statement reminded me of what had occurred in Tryum, how King Licintius had been dethroned and his own people had decided on his execution. Sulma Tan was right with respect to that case, too: the senators changed from championing their king to practically mobbing him in his final moments in the Senate gardens. They propped him up as monarch and, ultimately, they took away his powers – and his life, deserved or otherwise.

‘We should probably proceed to Lydia’s house now,’ I said. ‘Did you manage to get any maps of her wider estates?’

‘I have them for you to study later.’ She patted her leather satchel, which was hanging over the back of her chair. ‘Though I knew Lydia owned a lot of land I didn’t realize until compiling these documents how vast they were.’

‘How much are we talking about?’

She rose from her chair to put on a cloak. ‘About one twentieth of Koton. By and large, most falls under royal ownership or is the property of the temples. But the bulk of our country remains free for the people as common land. They have the rights to graze animals over most of this country. And as you have probably noticed, we have a
lot
of animals, so it is important to the people that the land remains in their custody – the people manage it themselves, see that it is not overgrazed and take only what is theirs, and this tradition has lasted for centuries. Yes, it was an essential part of our heritage.’

‘So if most of the land is free, that means Lydia’s huge wealth is actually more significant than it sounds.’

Sulma Tan nodded. ‘She owns just under half of what the temples own, which is again just under half what Queen Dokuz owns. The Marinus estate controls the flow of nearly all metals and salt. Without Lydia’s mines, there wouldn’t be the same craft work you see in the city. The smiths would be quieter. There would be little decoration in the palace – or perhaps it would come from abroad.’

‘I imagine she had quite a few enemies in that case,’ I said, ‘business associates, competitors . . .’

‘Yes, yes, but there are so very few competitors,’ she replied. ‘Everyone was either a friend of hers or under her employment. Not even the Rukrid family at its height could claim to have as much influence. Even today, the rest of the clans combined are not as powerful as she was. The temples have no interest in these operations. The queen, I’m sure, would like to own them, but she never had any problems with Lydia. As far as I know, when Lydia came to the city, they were often in court together, speaking privately.’

‘Do you know what about?’

‘No, what the queen discusses in private, neither of her secretaries – nor her daughter, servants, eunuchs – ever hear what is said. From what I gather though the conversations were rare, but jovial.’

I must have made a curious expression, because Sulma Tan said, ‘What is it?’

‘Oh, I was merely curious as to why a second friend of the queen has been found dead. First Grendor and now Lydia . . .’

‘You can’t think the queen has anything to do with these deaths?’ She looked incredulous. ‘The murders were hideous. If she wanted to kill people, she would have them executed with dignity, not with barbarism.’

‘Is any form of killing actually dignified?’

‘Besides,’ Sulma Tan ignored my comment, ‘you saw for yourself just what it means to offend the queen. Those soldiers who attacked you? They were despatched while you were asleep.’

‘I was actually
unconscious
. . .’

‘Well, the queen does not harbour grudges for long periods. She gets things done.’

‘You’re right,’ I replied, ‘and you know her better than anybody. I merely wonder, though, why it is that two people – seemingly unconnected, other than through trade – who were friends with the queen have perished in such a way. You understand that I must look at patterns in these cases.’

‘Yes, yes, I follow the line of thought.’ The apology was there in Sulma Tan’s eyes even if she could not bring herself to actually say it. ‘We should go now. It is a hot day and the streets will start to smell by the afternoon.’

We proceeded along newly built roads and high pavements, across high stepping stones that were placed for when the heavy rains washed through. Again I marvelled at the symmetrical streets of the prefecture, quite unlike those found in Detrata, which wound about cities according to the whims of rulers. The stone here was recently cut and the statues were bright, and there was a gentler pace to everyday life.

Eventually we arrived at the street of Lydia Marinus’ house. However, the word
house
did not really do the building justice. The property was immense, and took up most of the length of the street. Though relatively narrow, and two floors high, it stretched along for fifty yards, protected by a ten-foot-high perimeter wall standing only a few paces out from the building.

Constructed from pale stone and containing row upon row of arched windows, there was nothing to suggest much artistic licence taken by the architects. If anything, the place was surprisingly bland and spoke of a woman not concerned with art. It surprised me that Sulma Tan had commented on it with affection. There were no statues, no ornamentation, no decorative flourishes. Lydia had not spent money on extravagance. Perhaps that was why she remained so incredibly wealthy. Still, I was not here to judge the artistic tastes of a dead woman, or those of Sulma Tan. People liked what they liked.

The perimeter wall was broken up by a large, red, wooden gate, set in a brick arch. Sulma Tan banged on the gate with her hand and eventually a hatch slid open revealing a metal grille, partially obscuring the face beyond.

‘State your business,’ came a voice.

Sulma Tan explained who we were – declaring her role as second secretary to Queen Dokuz – and within a heartbeat the guard pulled open the gate.

A slender man in his forties stood there. With greying hair and a narrow, avian face, he wore contoured leather chest armour, black clothing, and stout boots, but looked weak, as if weighed down by it all. His expression was one of concern. If ever I needed to storm a palace, I would pray it was defended by men as easily cowed as this.

‘Lydia Marinus is not at home,’ he muttered quietly. ‘She’s uh . . .’

‘She’s dead,’ I said. ‘We know.’

‘Ah. Right then. Well you’d, uh, better come through in that case.’ He stepped aside and allowed us into a narrow garden that stretched around this side of the building. Ornamental flowers climbed decorative willow-frame archways; lavender hedges ran along by the house. The sounds of the city were suddenly very distant.

‘Are you the only guard on duty?’ I asked.

‘There’s another inside, but we weren’t expecting her back in the city,’ he muttered. ‘She’s got a private guard who follow her around. We’re mainly here to deal with questions and send people away, tell them to mind their own business and the like.’

A private guard and yet still she had been murdered. I turned to Sulma Tan. ‘Where did you say her body was found?’

‘In the street,’ she replied, ‘not too far from here as it happens. A merchant who was setting up his cart for the day found her body and alerted the City Watch. We never had the opportunity to analyse the scene, but it was very public – again, we believe the murder had been committed elsewhere, the body dumped.’

‘For all to see,’ I added, and turned to the man. ‘How did she manage to be abducted with a private guard protecting her?’

He shrugged and looked uneasy – well, more so than normal. ‘No idea, honestly. She really shouldn’t have been on her own. She makes enough demands to make sure one of us is with her most of the time, even if it’s just in the next room. She’s normally very insistent.’

‘Did she seem scared of something or someone?’

‘I don’t know. She just liked us around. Felt more secure, like.’

‘We’ll need to send an urgent message to the rest of her security entourage,’ I demanded. ‘Do you know where they’re staying?’

‘They’ll be here this afternoon. Word was sent to her place in the country as soon as her body was found. Truth be told, there’s been some almighty cock-up somewhere along the line. Some of the other boys will be feeling a bit sheepish.’

‘You don’t say,’ I grunted.

‘If only I’d known she was coming to the city,’ he replied. ‘Could have gone to fetch her and escort her. Or at least get the place ready.’

‘So no news had been sent in advance of her arrival?’

‘Nothing. First I knew about it was . . . well, when it was a bit too late.’

‘Normally she sends this kind of information in advance, I take it.’

‘She lets us know her movements all the time – she’s very methodical.’

There was the potential that one of her guards could have killed her. ‘We’re going to take a look inside,’ I said. ‘Can you lead the way?’

‘Of course, of course.’ He scrambled to guide us along the path.

‘It’s like a god-sized yurt,’ Sulma Tan commented, and I agreed. For a rich woman, there wasn’t much wealth on display. Many of the items appeared to be the kind of thing that you would expect in the usual yurts of tribal leaders, which could occasionally be seen in Koton.

But to the educated eye the rugs, throws and few ornaments were of sublime quality, with incredibly ornate stitching and some very exclusive designs. There was a simplicity to her artistic appreciation, but she did not skimp on the details. This could be seen in the old-style frescos – boring, by modern standards, but incredibly elegant geometric designs that only a skilled artist could create on drying plaster.
Now
I could see why Sulma Tan might have admired a place like this. Her home was full of authenticity and good taste, without showing off.

A small brass statue of a bull stood in one corner of the house, and I was reminded of what Priest Damsak had said about the primitive, older gods. There was another such statue in the kitchen and one in a small sunlit quarter of the garden. I remarked on these to Sulma Tan.

‘Curious,’ she replied. ‘One does not see so many examples of this these days.’

‘Did she worship the older gods?’

Sulma Tan shrugged. ‘What does it matter which deity we pray to? She was certainly one for the old ways. A traditionalist, people have said, but she kept herself to herself so I cannot vouch for these rumours. She did not like money to be wasted on frivolous matters. She even petitioned the queen not to waste money and resources on the census.’

The craftsmanship displayed in the house was not to be sniffed at – with large, robust fireplaces with immense logs ready to be burned, and thick timber beams stretched across high ceilings. Everything was very well put together. The tone of the colours continuing through the building was of a sombre crimson shade, with a few gold-trim highlights that drew the eye. Each of the many bedrooms, too, shared this tone and simplicity.