Mark Newton: Retribution

‘I’m interested in his whereabouts,’ I admitted — which wasn’t entirely untrue.

‘Say no more!’ Jejal whispered with some urgency, and proceeded out of the room.

Listening to his steps fading downstairs, I turned to regard the room. ‘Well, we seem to have done rather well. Not as good as my home in Detrata, but not as bad as our small dwelling in Venyn City, that’s for sure.’

Leana made for the large couch and placed her belongings on the floor beside it.

‘If you want, you can take the bed instead,’ I said, ‘you’re more than welcome to.’

‘You know how I feel about comfort,’ she replied. ‘It dulls the senses. Blunts your wits.’

‘I’m only being polite,’ I replied.

‘So you believe what he said, about the bishop?’

‘I see no reason why not. It was interesting that his death has not been formally announced to the city. Sulma Tan was convinced the man was dead, so surely the issue must have been mentioned to the people by now.’

‘As she reminds us, she is a busy woman.’

‘She is. Well, we should first find the bishop’s temple and take a look around there.’

Out of the window, down below, a couple of carts were being drawn by hand from the marketplace, which was starting to pack up for the night. It was going to be a clear evening. The last of the day’s sunlight glimmered on the red roof tiles, which were of a similar sloping style to those found in Tryum. In fact, a lot of the buildings here appeared to be familiar — as if the designers had constantly looked to Tryum for inspiration when they constructed this city. There were even long colonnades and column-fronted buildings just like at home. Statues and busts adorned the fronts of buildings. More than once a fresco could be perceived through an open doorway. The temples were Detratan styled, too, and not like the tall, wooden, spired structures we saw throughout the Kotonese countryside on our way here.

‘This city is trying too hard to impress,’ I commented out loud.

‘Those on the other side of the wall would see things differently,’ Leana replied bluntly. ‘For them it does not seem so impressive.’

The last few rays of the day’s sun skimmed across the low slate rooftops of the prefecture, and the hills in the distance were now dark shadows. We walked through the streets, navigating by the answers of locals towards Bishop Tahn Valin’s temple. A gong was struck several times a few streets away, the sound carrying along the quiet lanes amidst the scent of woodsmoke from the evening fires.

The bishop’s home and place of worship was like those dedicated to Polla that I had seen in Tryum recently, a fact that unsettled me at first. I had expected a different religion — different gods in a different country — for it to have its own identity. Set back from a busy street, it was a large rectangular building made from stone, with reliefs along the top and a triangular pediment at the front, with two columns on each side of a large wooden door. I stared up at it, and for a moment it felt as if I were back at home.

As we climbed the steps towards the door, we were presented with small statues of two very different gods. A woman’s torso blended into the legs of a horse; a male god’s muscular torso met with the lower half of a fish. Both of them carried glaives and directed them to the heavens.

‘Can I help you?’

A man marched towards us, a stern look upon his aged face. He wore layers of claret-coloured cloth — from tunic to cloak — though there was no emblem or markings on his clothing. He was a stout individual, with grey hair and tired-looking, but very searching eyes. He had the air of someone who had been through a great deal of stress.

Turning towards him, I made sure he could see the brooch of the Sun Chamber on my chest.

‘My name’s Lucan Drakenfeld, and this is my colleague, Leana,’ I began in Kotonese. ‘We’ve been asked to investigate the matter of Bishop Tahn Valin.’

‘Ah. My name is Priest Damsak. We should talk somewhere more discreet.’ He held my elbow gently and steered me into the temple, all the time looking about him as if he had reason to be worried.

Inside, statues of the strange animalistic man and woman were repeated, and in every instance they maintained the same half-horse, half-fish representation. Rows of cushions and small rugs were arranged for the congregation to sit or kneel upon. Thick tapestries hung from the walls, each one depicting strange scenes featuring the same male and female gods, some versions with them in armour, some naked.

‘Which gods are these?’ I asked.

‘Astran and Nastra.’ For a moment he lost his sense of fear. ‘The two split aspects of heaven. Astran, she is the goddess of the land, while Nastra is the god of the seas.’

‘On our way here I saw a straw ox on the fringes of Kuvash. There seemed to be some sort of ceremony going on.’

Damsak glared at me. ‘Those are the old gods. The old ways. Such practices ought to be forbidden.’

‘That was nothing to do with your gods then?’

‘It was certainly not. There are unfortunate remnants of a more primitive time. Several old cults use ceremonial sacrifices of livestock where they cannot afford to waste real animals. It is a barbaric practice. It is a commune with the dead rather than the correct way of venerating their spirits.’

I had seen similar religious offerings across Vispasia, particularly Detrata. It didn’t seem so primitive to me, but I put the priest’s disgust down to the fact that it was not something his own gods agreed with.

Damsak let out a sigh and muttered something in a much older version of the language, which sounded very respectful.

‘If I may say, you seem rather concerned.’

‘Why shouldn’t I be after what happened to Tahn,’ he snapped. ‘The man had done nothing to deserve such evil treatment. What if it is someone who dislikes our gods? What if I’m to be next, sliced up in such a manner?’

‘You’re aware of his fate, then?’

He nodded his acknowledgement.

‘What have you been told?’

Changing languages to Detratan, probably so only the learned might eavesdrop, he said, ‘I know only what the authorities have shown me. I believe it is him who has been found — those parts of his arm.’ The priest held out a bony arm, and I could see a similar bangle to the one worn by the bishop. ‘What else can you tell me so far?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know much else,’ I replied. ‘That’s why I’m here. I’ve come to find out more about the bishop and I was hoping you could help the start of my investigation. And the more you tell me, the more I’ll be able to help you in finding who did this to him. I can put your mind at ease. That is,’ I added, now he appeared less on edge, ‘if you yourself had nothing to do with his death?’

‘How could you say such a thing?’

‘Quite easily,’ I replied. ‘We must eliminate all possibilities. You might stand to gain from his death.’

‘On the contrary,’ he replied, a bitter sneer upon his face. ‘With the bishop going, I have no idea what will happen to this temple. I’m certainly not in line to follow someone as grand as a bishop. I have my place and it was by his side. We had plans, next year, to venture from the city on a pilgrimage so Nastra-knows what I’ll do now.’

‘You were going to leave the city?’ I asked. ‘Who else knew about this?’

‘It was common knowledge, as of the last new moon a couple of months ago, when we announced it to our congregation. We said we were going to leave for about a year, taking the practical aspects of our gods further afield, and living in more humble circumstances than this — by the side of the road, or in the houses of whoever would welcome us on our path. The bishop was very keen on this — in his later years he grew increasingly concerned that people needed rescuing from other foul gods. He wanted to help people. He wanted to bring them the comforts of Astran and Nastra.’