Retribution (Drakenfeld 2) (4 page)

‘What texts are they?’ Leana asked.

‘Everything from plays to scientific observation, laws and discussions of moral rights,’ Sulma Tan replied. ‘Queen Dokuz wants
everything
from all over Vispasia – she wishes it to be copied and stored in Kuvash, to be discussed by our people so that we may be enhanced as a culture.’ For a moment she glanced out of the window, the sunlight catching her in profile. That last sentence almost sounded as if she had committed it to memory like an actor. ‘People may think it ambitious, but I’m truly glad that we now have a queen who appreciates these things. It is much easier to be a woman in Kuvash these days.’

‘Such developments are very recent,’ I suggested. ‘You were once a more
primitive
country?’ I immediately wished I had not used the word.

Sulma Tan gave me another patronizing stare. ‘When I was a child, we were living in a
primitive
country, as you say. This is not to say that women were never powerful. We were made up of tribes – and two tribes were made up entirely of women. They would hunt and fight, every bit as ferocious as men. Once a year, as the days grew shorter, they received the visits of males from surrounding tribes for the purposes of breeding. The babies would be born in the warmer months so they would be able to survive better. Any male children were cast from a cliff or sold into slavery, while the females were cherished and raised as part of the tribe. But eventually these two tribes were absorbed into others, and such practices petered out. That was centuries ago. There was no sophistication back then. Even when our nation became part of Vispasia, the results were mere lines drawn on a map to herd our tribes together, and we were very much of the old culture. We had little understanding of the outside world for decades because our kings and queens have always wanted to remain isolated.

‘But ever since Queen Dokuz took the throne – which was some twenty years ago now – she has been working hard to bring the arts and sciences to Kuvash. One can see the results in our buildings and our trade. Even our towns and cities – they may not
appear
much, but they are better than what was there before. And a woman can walk through the streets of the prefecture and not expect harassment all the time. Can your culture claim the same?’

‘If you speak of Detrata, then probably not,’ I replied. It was difficult for me to
understand
– and she was someone who I wanted to understand. Being a man I had no experience of what it was like to be a woman in normal society, to be hassled as I walked down the street, to feel threatened, or leered at, or debased in some way every day by the opposite sex, to have limited rights, or to be treated like a commodity.

I had engaged in such discussions before, with Leana, and knew there was no debate to be
won
. Everyone lost.

Sulma Tan glanced between me and Leana. ‘Though you employ a woman as your bodyguard. That suggests you are not quite as
primitive
as many men in our country.’

There was an awkward silence.

‘Are we to wait here to meet Bishop Tahn Valin?’ Leana asked impatiently.

Sulma Tan walked over to the large table near the front of the room, and reached under it. With a sigh she lifted out a heavy wooden box, which she then placed on top of the table and beckoned us forward.

‘There is no need,’ Sulma Tan replied with the same cool expression, and lifted open the lid of the box.

Inside it lay two pieces of a human arm.

The limb had been severed just above the elbow and was caked in dried blood. Despite the stain and decay, I could perceive faint tattoos and religious inscriptions. The limb still bore a slender silver bangle with strange symbols carved upon it.

‘This belonged to Tahn Valin,’ Sulma Tan announced.

‘You’re certain it belongs to him?’ I asked.

‘We are, yes. His religious tattoo indicates that it is him, the bangle that he’s wearing was of a bishop’s rank, the only decoration they wear, and we have verified this with a priest who worked at the same temple. This is all that remains of him and, in this state, we are confident that the bishop has not survived his ordeal. So it seems, Officer Drakenfeld, you have wasted your journey.’

‘I don’t know.’ I met her gaze. ‘You haven’t found the rest of him yet. And this . . . Well this could easily be the remains of another priest.’

‘We have not found any other parts of a corpse, and we strongly believe this to be the bishop. He is the only bishop we know to have disappeared – no others have been reported missing.’

‘I must ask the obvious, but I take it you don’t know who did this?’

Sulma Tan shook her head and I could tell from her expression she was still trying to work out what my plan of action might be, but she was at least far more open in her manner than before.

‘Since I’ve come so far,’ I said, ‘perhaps I can assist in locating the rest of him? The rest of him might still be alive, for all we know. He’d be in a bad state, of course, but it is worth considering.’

Sulma Tan let out a long breath and regarded the remains in the box.

Leana leaned over to get a closer look. ‘This is curious. Why has the bangle not been taken?’

‘Yes. It was not a thief that killed this man,’ I agreed, ‘else why leave such a precious item? And we’re assuming that this man is actually dead. Even if it had been part of a robbery, which seems unlikely, what kind of thief would go to the trouble of butchering him in such a way?’ I turned my attention once again to Sulma Tan. ‘Where did you find these pieces?’

‘They had been thrown over the walls to the Sorghatan Prefecture,’ she replied coolly. ‘A soldier found them while on patrol, though the arm had been thrown into a rather public area. It was not necessarily for a soldier to find.’

‘And you keep the remains here, because it’s cool?’

‘I thought it wise to preserve them until we knew more, and since we have studied them this has become their temporary home.’

It was impressive that a queen’s secretary knew about the decay of flesh in warm temperatures. ‘Who’s been looking into this matter for you so far?’

‘We asked a soldier from the City Watch to investigate, but he has not been successful. Now his rotation has sent him to patrol further out of the city, the matter has . . . slipped, admittedly. The staff here are very busy. Being the queen’s second secretary, I have little time to dedicate to this issue. We also have a large segment of the army returning from their posting on the border, which is an administrative headache, and I have plenty of work to be done. So yes, this has not received the dedication that perhaps it should have done. It was why I sent my first letter.’

‘And your second because you did not want the outside world prying too greatly?’

‘If you wish to believe that.’

This was a intriguing situation. It wasn’t merely my orders that were keeping me here. It was strange that someone would kill a bishop, not take his bangle, and then throw his body parts over a wall to be found by others.

‘If you’ll permit me, then, I’ll look into the matter for you,’ I said. ‘That will leave you free for whatever state business you were originally tasked with.’

Sulma Tan never relinquished eye contact during the ensuing silence, but eventually she said, ‘I will need to discuss it with the queen, though I see no problem with such a commission. Please return here tomorrow morning. Make sure to ask for me.’

‘Will we have to wait as long to see you tomorrow?’

‘That depends on how busy I am,’ she replied, choosing not to note my sarcasm.

It was an interesting state of affairs. Why would someone sever the bishop’s arm? And, as Leana had pointed out, why had they not taken the bangle? We had established that whoever killed him did not care for such trinkets, which suggested they were of a status not in need of the money the bangle might bring. If that was the case, it limited our search to a small stratum of the city, though I was cautious about jumping to any conclusions at this point.

What intrigued me in particular was the notion of throwing the pieces of his arm over the wall. Such a gesture was deliberate and not a discreet way of doing things. Yet, if a relatively wealthy person had been responsible, they would not necessarily have thrown the pieces from the poorer side of the wall, in the Kuvash Prefecture – the pieces of the arm might simply have been left there, waiting to be found. They might even have been dropped in a curious accident.

During my conversation with Leana we speculated on the possible reasons for placing the pieces there. It was a signal, perhaps. It was just as likely that it could have been a warning to someone on the other side – a threatening gesture to the temple. The next step would be to visit the bishop’s temple and find out as much as we could about him, but not today – the hour was late and we needed to find lodgings for our time in Kuvash.

Sulma Tan had issued us with a piece of paper that declared we were permitted to stay within the Sorghatan Prefecture. It suggested that people were not free to move between the two prefectures. The queen’s second secretary advised us to head to a guest house for wealthy businessmen who passed through Kuvash. A few streets away, she told us, it was one of the more pleasant places in the city for a traveller to spend time.

It was run by Jejal, a rotund man in his fifties. He walked with a limp and his left eye was a different colour to his right. His grey hair was long yet frizzy, and he wore a very bright tunic, much in the Detratan style, though it was a somewhat cheaper variation. He was paler than the average person of Koton and his gaze was perpetually wild and promising, as if he was someone who knew secrets but wasn’t particularly good at keeping them.

‘They ask me if I want someone from the Sun Chamber here, and I say to them, yes please.’

‘Who’s them?’ I asked.

‘You know.’ Jejal gave a shrug. ‘Authorities. Clerics. Administrators.’

Sulma Tan’s influence
, I thought.

Jejal continued saying, ‘I know they pay you people well and trustworthy coin is hard to come by.’

We carried our own bags up the narrow, wooden stairway. Ink portraits had been arranged up the wall following the ascent, and there was a strange smell coming from the kitchens. ‘Do you not have many trustworthy people stay here? I was under the impression this establishment attracted honourable people.’

‘Oh yes! I like to keep my guest list full of honourable people, sure, but you can never tell, eh? Merchants can be unscrupulous bastards at the best of times. Give me coin that isn’t pure gold or silver. Melted down.’ He paused and shook his head. ‘This prefecture is a respectable place these days. So you are most welcome here, both you and your wife.’

I smirked knowingly at Jejal’s common assumption, which Leana had long since ceased to find amusing. ‘She’s not my wife.’

‘Ah, your lover – don’t worry, I do not ask questions on such matters – I know better! There’s trustworthy and
trustworthy
, eh.’

‘No,’ I said as we paused on the corner of the next floor. ‘She’s not my lover either.’

‘Your slave?’ He squinted one eye, as if attempting to comprehend a piece of art. ‘Where’s she from?’

Leana snapped, ‘I am slave to no one.’

‘Your bodyguard?’ Jejal asked.

‘That’s as close as you’re going to get,’ I replied. ‘And she’s from Atrewe.’

‘Good artists from Atrewe, so they say,’ Jejal said. ‘I had a dealer here once trying to make a payment in original paintings and vases, but such things are wasted on me. I enjoy basic necessities – good money, good food, good wine and good . . . Well, bad women. Balance is everything.’

‘I’m sure your wife wouldn’t agree,’ I said.

He stared at me incredulously. ‘How could you know I was married?’

‘Your recent guest-house plaque – a local licence of sorts, I suppose – was nailed to the wall downstairs above the door, bearing both your names and last year’s date. You might want to renew it, by the way, if the authorities come to check.’

Jejal grunted and turned away. He kept on muttering to himself as we walked along the corridor, deciding not to pursue the conversation any further.

Eventually he stopped at a door and showed us to our room. ‘This is all I have for you,’ he announced. ‘It is, I hope, enough to please such people of high culture, eh? Please, step inside.’

It was much larger than expected – there was a large four-poster bed, with sumptuous green and red silk cloth, large oil lamps, a desk where I could work, a large couch under a small shelf full of books, and a window overlooking a quiet part of the city. The floorboards were polished and there was a wonderful citrus scent coming from somewhere.

Jejal was not going to offer this room cheaply, and as soon as he saw my signs of happiness he quoted something a little more than the amount I’d anticipated. But given that I’d recently sold my property in Tryum, I had enough money for now, so I readily accepted. The Sun Chamber would presently forward on my wages and any interim expenses in the form of a credit note, so the situation was comfortable enough for the time being.