Марк Ньютон - Drakenfeld

Whatever the cause, the rain came as a blessed relief to the people of Tryum.

If the sun could not always reach down to these shaded lanes because of the height of the surrounding buildings, that did not stop the rain. Drummers stood on street corners as people danced barefoot in the mud. Children headed outside, their arms outstretched, and ran in circles while their parents laughed on from the shelter of an awning or doorway. A few traders were hastily erecting covers for their produce and wares, but even they did so with a beaming smile. In the poorest streets of the city, as we marched slowly across from Plutum to Barrantum, the mood of the populace grew increasingly happy. Tensions were dissolving before us in the rainwater.

I hoped the Snake Kings would also be in a better mood because of the weather.

The Snake Kings were a legendary gang of the lower districts of Tryum, mainly Barrantum if I remembered correctly, but who had some dealings elsewhere in the city. Of all the rival factions the Snake Kings had their fingers in most pies, including that of the Civil Cohorts who rarely intervened in any of their business.

And what a business it was. Coins, looted from private dwellings by their thieves, were melted down and sold back as ingots to those higher up in the city at a knock-down price. They charged commission to moneylenders who needed a little extra force to recover stubborn debts. Snake King members were more often than not responsible for trafficking young women – and young men – into the sex trade. The gang even possessed influence in the political sphere, helping to rig votes by keeping people away from the count, or in ensuring that graffiti against certain factions of the Senate was removed from the city walls.

They were not the only gang in the city – gangs were the silent shame of Tryum. Nowhere was free from their influence, and it was difficult to attach blame to their acts, much to the eternal frustration of my father, who would frequently curse their names.

Anyone who had an interest in furthering themselves in the city liked to keep on the good side of the gangs. This meant that if the actor Drullus was indeed hiding behind the Snake King’s protection, life might become very difficult for us trying to track him down.

‘You honestly believe her?’ It seemed Leana did not notice the rain. I had drawn up the hood of my cloak, but she had merely flipped up the collars of her jacket, continuing as normal, with water streaming down her face.

‘Who?’ I asked.

‘Clydia.’

‘You think I shouldn’t believe her?’

‘She is an actor,’ she replied. ‘She performs.’

‘Everyone performs – some people are more honest about it than others. I’ll grant you, the parts about the king’s antics down here do seem a little improbable. But it is worth reminding ourselves that there were many leaders of the Detratan Empire who bedded men as well as women, and many a ruler who had no shame in associating him- or herself with those more unfortunate than people of their position.’

‘She could be playing a game,’ Leana said. ‘Why are we here, in this part of the city? She may be sending us on a chase through the streets so we keep out of the way.’

‘That may be so. But I’d rather that than have no chase whatsoever.’

It was getting late in the afternoon, but I felt we were at least closing in on something. I had a nagging suspicion at the back of my mind that no one was quite telling me the truth about the murder. No one seemed to have seen a thing out of the ordinary on the night of a seemingly impossible crime. That the king went to the lower regions of the city to express himself creatively did appear to me to be slightly fanciful. That a man had gone on the run, however, was not. That a man might also have been bedded by the king threw the case open to many new questions.

Clydia had described the location where the Snake Kings might be found, on the border of Barrantum and Vellyum, a street just off the main thoroughfare, which led down to one of Tryum’s massive gates. It was a building of four floors beside a wood yard, with whitewashed walls that had seen better days. The sun had come out again, and there was a dark smear across the horizon where the clouds had moved on, looking like a volcano had spewed its contents to the heavens. Puddles sparkled in the afternoon light and the air felt a lot fresher. People had stopped working outside, for a moment, so the city was as calm as I’d seen since my arrival.

As we approached the door of the building, it was already ajar. Leana cautioned me, unsheathed her sword and pushed the door slowly back.

I followed her inside to a small room. Aside from the stone floor, the place was constructed entirely of wood, with thick beams crossing the ceiling. A strong smell of urine came from somewhere; perhaps we were above some sewers or near some operation that gathered the liquid for reuse. There was no one around, and there was only a stairway in front of us.

‘What do you think?’ she whispered. ‘Head upstairs?’

‘There’s nowhere else to go,’ I replied.

Leana led the way with me following on her heels. The place wasn’t quite what I’d expected to find as a safe house run by a leading gang of the underworld – it felt abandoned.

We approached the top of the stairs and stood side by side, listening for any signs of life. There seemed to be conversation coming from further along the corridor, so we both took a few steps forward—

The floor gave way and we both fell into darkness.

‘A trapdoor,’ I said, looking up at the opening above us. How very embarrassing it was to fall through it – to fall for it.

‘It could have been worse,’ Leana grunted. ‘You could have landed on the stone floor instead of falling on me.’

We found ourselves in a room on the ground floor. It was a crude cage of sorts, albeit the metal mesh was only on one side – the rest of the room was made from thick panels of wood. There wasn’t much to be seen, the place was dusty and we were in the company of two rats. Testing the mesh got us nowhere; it seemed firm, but there was a lock.

‘Do you have a pick?’ I asked.

Leana reached down to her belt and handed over a pin. ‘This do?’

‘I’ll see.’ The lock possessed an impressive mechanism but I pushed my fingers through the mesh of the cage and manoeuvred the pin into the key mechanism. It wouldn’t take me too long – when training for the Sun Chamber we often spent many hours working on the various types of locks found throughout Vispasia. This one was a particularly common variety, a cheap but usually effective lock, and remembering how its insides functioned it only took a few moments before there was a click.

‘There we go.’ Handing the pick back to Leana, I grinned and pushed the cage door open.

As soon as we set foot outside, there was the sound of people approaching. We were on our guard as the door to a room opened, revealing two figures silhouetted by the cresset light behind. Short swords glimmered in their hands.

‘Stay where you are,’ they cautioned.

Leana showed them her own weapon. ‘Two of them, two of us,’ she sneered.

‘I’m happy with those odds,’ I added.

‘All right,’ a figure said. ‘We don’t want no blood this afternoon.’

‘A man after my own heart,’ I replied.

‘Lay your weapons down,’ the man grunted.

‘And you,’ Leana snapped. ‘Put down your swords.’

‘What’s going on down there?’ a more aggressive voice shouted, possibly their boss.

‘Now look, this is not a particularly pleasant welcome,’ I called out, hoping to defuse the situation. ‘Is this how simple guests are treated in Tryum these days?’

‘Who the hell is talking like that?’ The figures parted revealing another slightly shorter man.