Mark Newton - Retribution

Sojun’s gaze followed the girl as she rode across the cobbles to the other side of the courtyard. ‘She trains the queen’s horses, and helps others from time to time.’

‘What do your soldiers do here usually? What trouble do you get?’

‘Some tribes have never accepted Koton and they carry out occasional raids around towns, villages and trade routes. Reckon the old clans have a hand in that. Sometimes we get ships landing. Bands of warriors come from abroad to take what they can. Women, children, young men to be sold or used as slaves. That’s not as often as I remember. Our queen makes sure we’re protected. It’s damn good pay being in the military. She makes sure of that. And with soldiers being much better off than a tradesman, they’ll make sure she’s well looked after in return. Less likely to be open to corruption that way.’

‘That would explain two decades of stability.’

He grunted something close to a laugh. ‘That’s what outsiders will think. Not everyone likes it. Couple of the clans think it’s giving the masses too much power by training them as soldiers and giving them military coin. Reckon it’s dangerous in the long run.’

‘And what do you think?’

‘Job’s a job.’

‘Either way, all that military coin flowing through the city can’t be bad for tradesmen like yourself,’ I commented.

But, with a shrug, Sojun made it clear that he was done talking, so I figured it was a good idea to move on.

Leana and I exited the stables and made our way back towards the royal palace.

In the distance stood the snowless mountains, which I hadn’t been able to see in yesterday’s murkier weather. The terrain of the city was flat, and the buildings rarely rising more than three storeys high, so it was impressive to see how far that mountain range stretched.

Little square flags of various different colours had been strung up between buildings, some of them containing writing that appeared religious. Two priests had set up on opposite sides of the street, and I wondered if that had any symbolism in relation to the two gods or if they were simply competing with each other on who could preach the loudest. Their words seemed to spar with each other, causing many passers-by to pause as if unsure which way to turn their attention.

Finally we arrived outside the front of the palace. Here it was styled like a white-walled citadel, though all the decorative flourishes indicated that this place saw little in the way of combat. It was without doubt the largest building in the city, with narrow glass windows spaced at regular intervals and reaching five storeys in height — though it looked as if there were more layers to be found further in. Looking up, there were four turrets on this face, spaced about thirty paces apart; passing back and forth in between them was the glistening helmet of a soldier. All in all, given the number of royal palaces I’d seen — from King Licintius’ residence in Tryum to the ziggurat of Prince Bassim in Venyn City, not to mention the palace of the Queen of Dalta — I was not much impressed. Here was a fairly basic structure that had been built long before the country had a taste for fine designs.

I spotted a large, arched black gate manned by four soldiers armed with bows, and that was where we headed. I informed the archers, who on closer inspection wore ornate green and white uniforms with brightly polished helmets, exactly what was in the sack.

After their own private, urgent conversation, we were led through the gate and into the royal compound, whereupon I lifted down the body and we were told to wait. Here, the entrance appeared to be an even less grand affair, with exposed red brickwork showing and a garden full of herbs.

‘The staff entrance,’ Leana muttered.

We watched a man come out of a small door to empty dirty water down the drains.

Eventually two soldiers returned and declared, ‘Sulma Tan will see you now.’

Two other men in the red and blue of the City Watch helped us carry the body inside.

Knives and brutal barbed implements hung on racks along the wall, and I wondered where we had been brought. This brick chamber, Sulma Tan informed us after noting my suspicious looks, was used for training students of medicine. White paper lanterns glowed under the large arched ceiling. Sulma Tan moved one of the lanterns over beside a ledger before I had the chance to glimpse what was on it. As she did so, I told her about my discussion with Priest Damsak and of the bishop leaving the city.

‘Was that true?’ I asked. ‘Or do you need to confirm it with the Astran officials?’

‘It was true,’ she said. ‘The queen had already asked me to look into the process of adding a new bishop to that district. She is a great admirer of those gods, given they are not representative of the barbaric cults of our past. She is keen to see their forward-looking ways are continued in the city.’

‘And do you believe in such progressive ways?’

‘My beliefs are not important.’ She then steered us to a central table positioned directly beneath a skylight made of clear glass. Around this thick wooden table were three curved rows of stone benches, much like a theatre, only on a far smaller scale.

Sulma Tan had brought with her two middle-aged male officials, who were clothed in red silk trousers, black silk jackets with high collars, and long white socks. They lingered by the ledger at the back, ready with a reed pen to make notes as she spoke. Myself, Leana and Sulma Tan gathered around the covered remains of the bishop.

‘There’s not much hope for a recovery with this fellow,’ I said, pulling back the cloth.

One of the men gasped and muttered something incomprehensible as I uncovered the head carefully, before discarding the sack to one side.

‘By Astran,’ the other breathed. If these men had come here to study, they were clearly not that familiar with corpses.

‘Ah, it is so.’ Sulma Tan clasped the edge of the table. She asked one of the other men behind to run out to retrieve the other limb. In the meantime, we continued stripping back the fragments of cloth, exposing the body piece by bloodied piece.

‘You have the stomach for this?’ Sulma Tan asked us, and she was being sincere.

Leana gave a short laugh and said fiercely, ‘Lady, we have seen worse. I first met Lucan wandering around a field of corpses.’

That was putting things lightly. Our paths met during the aftermath of a most bloody battle. Her friends and family — and her husband — had been wiped out in the war. In the intensely hot location of a massacre, she had asked me if I needed a worker. I was an excuse for her to leave those horrors behind, to try to forget what could not easily be forgotten.

Sulma Tan continued to cut away at the final fragments of the bishop’s thick woollen clothing, until his flesh was fully exposed. Leana helped pull away the strips of material and discarded them in a metal bucket underneath the table. Sulma Tan retrieved a small metal tray, containing water and a cloth, and began to ever-so-gently wash away the detritus from the torso. The water soon took on the colour of the blood and dirt.

Now and then the queen’s second secretary would lean away to avoid the stench, and eventually she ordered one of the note-taking officials to open the room’s windows, allowing in a refreshing salt-tang breeze and the absent-minded chatter from a nearby courtyard.

The skylight above created harsh shadows, so Sulma Tan asked for three lanterns to be moved in order to see the gruesome details from all angles.

‘Most disturbing,’ I muttered, as it became apparent what had happened to the bishop.

‘A sick mind was at work here,’ Sulma Tan added.

The bishop’s body had not just been severed at his shoulders and neck, though that would have been a terrible enough way for him to have been killed. In addition to this, and though it was difficult to make out fully, there were well over a hundred cuts across the various surfaces of his skin, which had long since started to transform in colour to that of a green-tinted bruise.