Марк Ньютон - Drakenfeld

‘I honestly don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t even know what this place is – your lady –’ he indicated Leana ‘– told me he was hiding out. I’ve no idea why. He made no mention of it before. He just went out, but we didn’t think it important because he could be gone for a couple of days at a time.’

The other man, his arms still around Clydia, nodded to con-firm this point.

‘Well,’ I continued, ‘it seemed he intended to remain here for a while at least. Look at the food on the table.’

‘That’s Drullus’ diet all right. He liked to look after himself – said that his physique and complexion would improve.’

‘He didn’t even drink wine, not like we do,’ Clydia added.

‘You… you don’t think we’re in trouble do you, sir?’ the slender man asked. ‘Will whoever did this, will they come after us as well?’

I shook my head. ‘Drullus came here on his own, knowing that it was he alone who was being hunted. And he was right, too. So I do not think you are in immediate danger. I would, however, remain vigilant. If you have friends, go and stay with them. Don’t go out alone. Being cautious will do you no harm.’

I pulled the blanket back across Drullus’ face, and stood up once again, noting that the afternoon sun was sliding from the sky. It was time to let these actors get back home. They would not be much help now so, after giving them my address in case any information should surface, I told them a message would be sent when Drullus was available for burial.

Once they had gone, Leana stepped alongside, by Drullus’ corpse. ‘You look unwell.’

‘I’m fine. In a way, I grieve for him. Here was a handsome young man with potentially a decent life ahead of him, where he could enjoy his work. And it was cut short, for what reason? What did poor Drullus do exactly?’

‘It could be connected to Lacanta somehow?’

A dead royal and a dead actor, both now in the Underworld with help from a blade. Their lives crossed in some way, potentially, but I suspected that only King Licintius would know how. ‘Before I can really say, we need to see the king. I want to watch his reaction to the news of Drullus’ death.’

As we headed out of the room, I noticed something by the door frame and crouched down to pick it up.

‘Have you found something?’ Leana asked, leaning over me.

I twirled a leaf around in my fingers. It was still green, indicating it had not been a dried import, and it was generally an oval-shape with several acute points. ‘Henbane, I believe. I could be mistaken.’

‘Here.’

I stood and handed it to Leana, who confirmed my suspicions.

‘Now,’ I said, ‘what would an actor be doing with a leaf of henbane?’

‘Maybe he made a drug from it to get visions? It could be some creative thing. You know what these people can be like.’

‘Henbane is also a poison,’ I replied, standing up. ‘And you heard what the actors told us – he liked to look after himself.’

‘Well, he didn’t die because of this leaf – unless it is as sharp as a blade,’ Leana remarked, running her finger along the edge.

‘Indeed not,’ I replied. ‘But how did a fresh henbane leaf get here?’

We checked with the locals along the street enquiring where we might find a herbalist but there were none nearby and certainly no one could be found selling henbane on the nearby market stalls.

While we were in this part of the city, I felt it prudent to pay a quick return visit to Yadrix Velor and the Snake Kings, to see if they knew anything about Drullus’ death. So much for the protection money he had paid them.

Yadrix was in a much more welcoming spirit this time, as he was hopeful of a connection with the Sun Chamber, but he knew nothing of what had happened to Drullus. He claimed that his job had been merely to provide a safe house for the actor, and it was Drullus’ own fault if he let in his own murderer.

I also asked him if he dealt in henbane, in any form, but he shrugged. ‘There are stronger poisons available if you want to kill someone,’ he claimed, ‘and more effective herbs if you want to escape reality for a few hours.’

It was time to head back up-city before the evening fell, but via a route that would take us past the border of Vellyum and Plutum, which was near to the Seventh Temple of Malax. In that area was the house of the moneylender Veldrum Hecater.

My father’s supposed debt to him had been at the back of my mind all day. With that matter resolved, perhaps my mind would settle more, allowing me to focus on the murders. At the very least, he could stop sending people to attack us. If money was owed, the debts would be paid, but just how bad had the situation for my father been?

A couple of shopkeepers nearby were starting to pack up for the day. After asking one of them which was Veldrum Hecater’s door, they pointed to a splendid gated property set back from the street.

‘You should do this on your own,’ Leana said. ‘It does not look to be a terrible place. I know that this is a private thing for you also.’

‘That’s very considerate,’ I said. ‘I’ll meet you back at our house.’

She nodded and started to walk swiftly back along the high pavement.

The gates to the property were open, so I took that to be a welcome gesture and headed straight for the main door. The gardens, in the late afternoon and after the rain, were magnificent to walk through, and I noted a handful of species I had seen on my travels, some even all the way from Venyn, and a handsome fig tree.

I knocked on the large double door and called out for Veldrum Hecater. A moment later a hatch slid back and a foreign woman asked for my name. I gave that and my title, suspecting that it would already be a familiar one in this household.

The door opened and two servants ushered me inside to the hallway, where they told me to wait. Sunlight slid through the open roof at an angle, illuminating a vibrant red fresco beyond. The fountain in the centre of the room had collected a lot of water. There were many great works of art here, and statues of several kings and queens – including a fine one of Licintius himself, which didn’t look all that unlike him.

‘Son of Calludian,’ came a voice. A slightly hunched man shuffled towards me, wearing a black tunic, light-grey trousers and slippers, and he carried a cane in his right hand. He must have been at least fifty years old and the expression that time had carved into his face was one of utter satisfaction with the world.

‘Are you Veldrum Hecater?’ I asked.

He nodded once, and smiled. ‘You look… rather unkempt, young man. Have the gods been unkind today?’

I had no answer for that. ‘You’ve sent several men of little skill to my house recently – and if not to my house, then to hunt me through the streets like an animal.’

‘Ah. That is true.’

‘All I received from these men was a garbled message about my father’s debts. If you had a problem, you should have talked to me personally. I’m a reasonable man and I always follow the law.’

‘You know how these things go, a man of your standing,’ Veldrum replied. ‘Delegation. A message goes down the chain and before long it becomes rather confused. I’ll see to it that someone’s punished. I’m sorry my men bothered you, but… we were owed rather a lot of money.’

‘So I understand,’ I said. ‘How much?’

‘Let me see. Please, let us move to a more private room, away from the curious ears of my slaves.’ The old man gestured for me to follow him. ‘Can I get you a drink?’