Mark Newton - Retribution

At last a voice addressed me: ‘Are you Officer Drakenfeld? I’ve received no official notification of your visit — am I correct?’

The woman who entered the room spoke in a remarkably clear form of Detratan, without a hint of a local accent — in a way that was far too precise to be truly associated with someone from my home nation.

‘Good morning.’ Rising to meet her, I began to introduce myself formally, but she held up a hand.

‘I am Sulma Tan,’ the woman continued, ‘second secretary to the queen.’

Her black hair, with a heavy fringe, was worn down unlike many of the other ladies I’d seen in the corridors, who wore theirs pinned up or tied back decoratively, almost artistically. Framed between curls was her broad face, with delicate features. She wore a necklace of silver and emerald and heavy black boots, while her long, tunic-style dress was made of heavy blue silk. She was about my age — perhaps a couple of years younger. In complete contrast to the nervous guards, her hazel eyes met mine with confidence and intensity. There was an intelligence and analytical mind behind that gaze, with almost a sense of impatience with the rest of the world. Right now she was assessing me, processing why a stranger was here interrupting her busy schedule.

‘I know who you are,’ she said. ‘Or at least, who you represent. You are both from the Sun Chamber, yes?’

‘That’s right. We’ve just now travelled up from Detrata, after stopping off along the way. This is my colleague, Leana.’

‘Colleague?’ Sulma Tan asked, scrutinizing Leana, though without showing a sneer as the guards had done as they escorted us inside.

‘It’s a more preferable word to use than bodyguard,’ I said. ‘And I don’t know what the word is to describe someone who tries to keep me from taking myself too seriously.’

Sulma Tan once again weighed up my words, and chose not to follow my light-hearted introductions with anything like the same tone.

‘Though I note your brooch, I would like to see your papers. You must understand that to us a man travelling from Detrata may be on the business of espionage.’

‘Yes, of course.’ I rummaged in my satchel and produced documents stating my name, my station, and a list of honours within the Sun Chamber. ‘As you can see,’ I continued as she shuffled through them assiduously, ‘I am no spy.’

‘You are as you say, Officer Drakenfeld.’

‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘and any ambassadors here from Detrata may vouch for me.’

‘The Detratan ambassador, Carrus Mineus, has returned to your country,’ Sulma Tan declared. ‘He was recalled by your Senate.’

She noted the look of surprise, which must have shown on my face, with obvious interest. Admittedly I was confused as to why the Senate would withdraw its ambassadors. It was no good omen when a country withdrew its diplomacy. ‘Did Mineus reveal why he was leaving?’

‘He said only that he had been recalled.’

‘Did he indeed,’ I replied. There was no tension in her voice. She was very matter of fact about it. ‘Perhaps his departure has something to do with having so many soldiers around the palace?’

‘That is not the reason.’ She paused slightly, and studied me for a little longer. ‘You may as well hear it from me rather than some exaggerated rumour. There has been an attempt on the life of Princess Nambu Sorghatan.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Was she harmed?’

‘No. The intruder came close, but could not get through to her chamber. He fled out of one of the windows, with a surprising athleticism. It is why we are being extra cautious right now. But to matters more pertinent to your arrival. Am I to understand, then,’ she added firmly, ‘that my second message did not come through?’

‘Your second message?’ I pretended to have no idea what she was talking about, but knew full well what she meant.

‘Ah.’ A smile accentuated the lines of her face. Though this was not a warm expression at all, more of a knowing realization. Perhaps she suspected that the message had been received, but the Sun Chamber had decided to ignore it. There was something about her manner that suggested she was constantly one step ahead of me. ‘This will explain your. . presence . Well, for your information we have, it seems, resolved the issue of Bishop Tahn Valin.’

‘Is he well?’

‘The matter is resolved.’ She regarded me as if to say, why are you still here?

‘I would very much like it if you could introduce me to him, so that I might record the matter as resolved to my superiors. You must know how the Sun Chamber can be. We’re very thorough and I must report this case to be closed in a satisfactory manner, lest more officers be sent to investigate.’

‘If you insist.’

‘I get the impression you don’t appreciate outside influence,’ I asked as the three of us walked along the corridors of the palace.

‘Please, try not to take my actions personally,’ she said, then her voice softened. ‘It’s difficult for outsiders to understand what a proud culture this is. Though we’re openly part of Vispasia, we are people who like to do things ourselves. Or, at least, that is how it used to be. But Queen Dokuz Sorghatan is a lady of high culture and she welcomes ideas from the outside. The finest philosophers, poets and engineers from the surrounding nations are now often to be found in our court. Her donations and large salaries attract a great deal of interest from great minds and scholars.’

‘But when it comes to your bishops,’ I said, ‘you’d rather sort out your own mess.’

‘I would argue that it is not a mess, as you put it. But I see your point.’ Her words came slowly — not out of any difficulty in speaking Detratan, but because she was considering them carefully, like a diplomat or politician.

The corridors were much plainer than the rest of the building promised. There was little in the way of ornamentation, just one dark passageway after another, with bare stone broken by the occasional cresset or narrow window, some of which made a pattern of light across the floor and I could smell. .

I came round slowly and looked up from my position on the floor. I had obviously suffered a seizure.

Leana was peering over me and, to her side, stood Sulma Tan, with a deeply analytical expression upon her face. Leana was making excuses on my behalf, but my embarrassment was overwhelming. I had no control over these matters — they seemed to strike at will — but to do so immediately upon having met someone from this nation was humiliating, to say the least.

Leana helped me to my feet. I stared sheepishly towards Sulma Tan to make my apologies, weighing up if I should tell her the truth that the gods were punishing me for some misdemeanour.

‘Interesting,’ was all she said. ‘I have seen such things before. How long have you suffered?’

‘Most of my adult life,’ I replied tentatively.

She began to probe me with questions, as if a physician rather than a secretary to the queen, but my almost monosyllabic responses should have given her an indication of my discomfort. Yes, they were mainly in my sleep. There were sometimes headaches. No, they did not happen all the time, just on average every few days. No, I can’t remember what happened. The gods caused them. And so on.

‘I would be grateful,’ I concluded, truly worried for my safety now, ‘if you could keep this event quiet. Just between us. Only Leana knows I suffer such seizures, and it would make my job very difficult if people knew about it — they would not trust me. They would think me cursed by the gods — and they would refuse to work with me.’

Sulma Tan snorted. ‘Ridiculous superstition. I do not believe this is some affliction of the gods.’