Mark Newton - Retribution

A connection, at last.

‘I can assure you,’ Sulma Tan stressed, ‘that if the amulet has been taken by someone within this palace, they will be discovered and punished accordingly. I will send an urgent message to all senior staff within the building.’

‘There’s every chance it was taken by those who committed this wicked crime,’ I said. ‘I found this ring in the mattress at the bishop’s temple. He had kept it very well hidden, so no one could have thought to take it. That said, he probably acted in this way since he could not wear such jewellery in his temple. Grendor, however, must have had no such problem with wearing an item like this.’

Borta shook her head and stared into a vacant corner of the room. ‘He rarely took it off.’

‘Do you know where he acquired it, Borta? Think hard, please, it could be very important.’

A shake of her head and I knew that a promising lead would be stalled. ‘Gren always wore it, long before I met him. Once when I asked him about it, he said he bought it on his travels. That it brought him good luck. He often spoke of sailors and superstition.’

‘How long have you known each other?’

‘Eight years.’

‘And he’s worn it all that time. . Thank you, Borta, you’ve been very helpful.’ I exhaled deeply. ‘Have you spent enough time with your husband?’

‘I have,’ she replied, staring at the ground. ‘There is nothing else to say about it.’ Then she gazed at me with a surprising moist-eyed anger. ‘Please, Officer Drakenfeld. You will see to it that whoever did this will be caught, won’t you?’

‘I will do my very best,’ I replied.

After Borta had left, Sulma Tan walked with me into the chamber to view the body of Grendor one more time. Concealed on a table nearby was the long wooden box, not quite a coffin, not quite a crate, that contained the body of the bishop.

‘Carlon is going to be here shortly.’ She pulled back the black cloth that covered the bishop’s remains.

She gasped.

‘What is it?’ I couldn’t see what had shocked her. Leana walked calmly over to the other side of the body.

‘It has moved. This torso wasn’t arranged like this. It was on its back and now it is different. .’

‘You’re quite-’

‘Certain!’ she snapped. ‘Yes, yes. I am certain. Stop questioning me.’ A breath or two later and she apologized. ‘I’m so sorry, Officer Drakenfeld. I didn’t mean to shout at you like that.’

‘It’s quite all right. I deserved it.’

Leana chimed in, ‘Yes. I get tired of him sometimes. Forgive him — he is a man, and does not know how heavily he treads.’

‘Very kind of you, Leana,’ I replied.

‘But really,’ Sulma Tan continued, ‘I am not myself.’

‘Please,’ I replied. ‘Think nothing of it.’

So it appeared either someone was playing tricks on us, or someone had got access to the body parts of the bishop and — somehow — had managed to give them a few last drops of life. Perhaps the bishop knew something we did not about the business of life and death.

A thick humid fug hung over the city. A few traces of rain seemed to hover over those far hills, but there was no sign it would ever come our way. It wasn’t merely the weather that made the mood of the city different now. There was a strange ambience about the streets that I’d not seen so far: a sense of expectation, almost of excitement.

People began to surge through the wide streets. Merchants had brought their carts away from the markets and were selling items along the thoroughfares, an illegal act in many cities. It was all the more curious given the late hour of the afternoon, when trade was usually winding down.

We moved among the crowds, attempting to gauge what, if anything, was going on. Leana pointed out that the gates of the prefecture were starting to open, people grouping towards them. A horn blared somewhere beyond and soon I could see the tops of short, conical helmets, with crimson-coloured horsehair plumes drooping behind. Swords and bows were slung across the shoulders of the riders. They filed in, perhaps two hundred in all, absorbing the general cheers of the gathered throng. Up close I could see them wearing blue cloaks and black tunics of the equestrian ranks. They wore silver-scaled body armour, and raised above their mass was the banner of the red stag on blue.

They rode past us, taking many of the gathered crowd with them on their way. The bustle lingered for a while longer, before vanishing as if it had never been there.

‘If the arrow that was fired at us turns out to be of a military type,’ Leana commented, ‘then matters have suddenly become far more confusing.’

‘Ever the optimist,’ I replied.

‘I am the realist.’

When we arrived back at our temporary accommodation, we were considerably more cautious. Leana went into our room first, sword drawn, and I followed immediately after, heading towards the window. She scrutinized all our belongings before concluding, ‘No one is here. Nothing has been taken.’

‘There’s no one outside either, from what I can see.’

No sooner had we sat down than Jejal rumbled up the stairs and burst into the room. His shirt was covered in sweat as well as some dubious food stains. ‘Greetings, Officer Drakenfeld! A productive day, I hope?’

‘It was, thank you.’

‘Here.’ He handed over a message tube before wiping his palms on his shirt. ‘This was left with me but an hour ago. It has the royal seal! You must open it quickly, for it was sent with urgency.’ He waited a moment more while I stared blankly at him, waiting for him to leave us in private. Eventually he understood my wish.

‘My apologies. Such secretive people,’ he muttered, before walking down the stairs.

I opened up the tube and read the rolled-up letter inside. It was an invitation to a private dinner with the queen tonight. My presence was ‘expected’. No doubt the queen would be eager to note our progress, especially given the development with her friend, Grendor of the Cape.

Not a moment for quiet contemplation, I thought. Still, I felt rather alert given the long day.

Leana looked over the letter. ‘At least we will eat better food than whatever Jejal had been preparing. Or, rather, has spilled down his front.’

The room was not especially opulent. Not in the same way that the royal residence of Optryx in Tryum was. Or even any of the sumptuous rooms of the Queen of Dalta for that matter. But it was a very honest room, and I liked it all the more because of the fact, for it allowed me to see beyond the pomp of Queen Dokuz Sorghatan.

Here we could simply see a mother and her daughter, surrounded by good company, talking about the finer things in life. Or at least, that was the impression that the queen intended for me to take with me in my reports to the Sun Chamber. Humble and honest. Not, in fact, the secret dictator I suspected her of being.

‘Do not judge me too harshly.’ She smiled as if she possessed some mystical way of probing my thoughts.

‘On the contrary,’ I replied. ‘I’m enjoying the evening immensely.’

The room was square, perhaps fifty paces wide, with hunting equipment lining the wood-panelled walls. Roasted meats along with thick slices of late-season fruits were distributed among the guests on simple silver trays. There were about twenty people in all invited to this private dinner, and they ate heartily. We were sitting on cushions, arranged so that we looked up at the queen, who reclined on a couch with one of her eunuchs seated to her right. She was wearing far less make-up than when I saw her before, revealing her to be in her late forties. She wore a dark-blue high-collar dress, with subtle gemstone detailing. To her left, her daughter Nambu was dressed similarly.