by Gareth Lewis
*
Adajo couldn't help staring at the city. The stories hadn't prepared him. Its size was the first thing. He knew there were bigger places, such as Mirror of Heaven – the capitol of the empire – but his mind couldn't accept the idea of a community whose edges he couldn't even guess from his vantage point. It left him speechless.
Not that he could afford time to process it, since a messenger summoning Tsotu to the magistrate's office met them on their approach to the city walls. He kept up with the examiner's pace as he gawped.
In Water Dances on the Rocks two storey buildings were a luxury, and most buildings spread out rather than up. At first he felt comfortable with the single storey houses visible on approaching the city, until he looked at the wall beyond them which enclosed most of the city. The wall was around two storeys tall, and there were buildings beyond which peeked over its battlements. After passing through the gates he found three storey buildings weren't uncommon. It was as though the wall limited their lateral expansion, forcing them up.
Sections of greenery dotted the streets. They were controlled – unnaturally clean and tidy – and made him miss real plants, which were only a few minutes away.
The crowds were worse than the buildings, although they gave the uniforms a wide berth. The number of pedestrians threatened to make Adajo light-headed, and he had to control himself from glancing around at everything. He couldn't match Tsotu's calm poise and confident stride.
The examiner led the way to a rich-looking three storey building a fair way into the city, presumably near the centre. People milled in and out of the front door, again leaving a space so the examiner and enforcer weren't delayed.
Following Tsotu up stairs wider than the rooms in his uncle's house, Adajo moved closer to the examiner.
'Should I wait outside?' he asked.
'Not unless he tells you to,' said Tsotu. 'It's the investigation he wishes to discuss, and you're a part of it.'
They ascended to the top floor and along a richly decorated corridor whose art he had little time to appreciate. A man rose from a desk before the large doors at the end of the corridor, and ushered them through. This drew looks from those awaiting an audience.
The magistrate's office was larger than the main room of the barracks back home. Its wide space was occupied primarily by a large desk at the far end, behind which sat the magistrate for Xue province, Zobrek. Balding – naturally rather than aping the current imperial style – his neat, delicate beard and moustache held hints of grey, and he had faint jowls despite his lean frame. In charge of administering the province, he oversaw the subordinate administrators and acted as final court of justice below the imperial court itself.
Setting aside his work, Zobrek glanced at Adajo before ignoring him.
Tsotu stood at attention before the desk, inclining his head down to regard the floor. Adajo followed suit, a step behind. While the masks put them on equal social standing with anyone short of imperial magistrates or the highest families, the authority of their posts was distinct from social rank. They still answered to the magistrate, and – to a lesser degree – to senior administrators. The deference was occupational rather than social.
'Have you determined what happened?' said Zobrek. His deep voice sounded tired despite his controlled tone.
'Not yet, magistrate,' said the examiner, his voice maintaining its usual calm.
'Are you aware of the political aspect of the victim?'
'I'm aware of his family.' Tsotu managed to instil the words with a doubt that was what was meant, without sounding less than confident.
'You are aware he was engaged?'
'Yes.'
'To the daughter of Sobel.'
'I see,' said Tsotu.
Zobrek raised an eyebrow. 'What is it you see?'
Tsotu took his time responding. 'I see that the fiancé of the senior adherent of Rauthon's daughter was killed with unnatural burns.' Rauthon was the spirit of light and learning, often identified with the sun. Invoking fire wouldn't be out of the question for the showier adherents.
'I see,' said Zobrek. 'I doubt it'll take long for that news to spread. I'm equally confident you'll refrain from stating it so bluntly outside this office, where it could be taken as an accusation.'
'Of course.'
'You're familiar with the Lanu family?'
'A minor house,' said Tsotu. 'Of middling influence here, and less elsewhere in the empire.'
'They have enough allies to be a problem if an adherency is involved. We must avoid any implication of such without proof. The last thing we need is increased tensions among the high houses and the adherencies.'
'Do the Lanu family have links with other adherencies?'
'None of which I'm aware,' said Zobrek. 'I believe the marriage was arranged to save the family's failing fortunes.'
'Providing Sobel a degree of legitimacy from one of the old families,' said Tsotu. 'Lending him weight in his moves against the bureaucracy.'
'Quite,' said Zobrek. While a part of the bureaucracy, the magistrate was also the Emperor's representative in the province, and had to be impartial with regards to the political factions. Not that there should be political factions, since the bureaucracy implemented the will of the Emperor. In theory.
Both social ranking and the bureaucracy dated back well before the current empire, which had been around barely forty years. Elements of social rank had been around before the first empire, the Kuen – which fell thirteen hundred years ago – but wasn't recognisable until the Liou empire nine hundred years ago, when the bureaucracy came into being.
While the Emperor had made reforms to ensure the laws which governed the land applied equally to all, the high families retained power, mainly due to their wealth. They'd always fought a quiet war with the bureaucracies for power, which had been complicated with the rise of the adherencies over the last century.
For as long as the thousand little gods had offered powers in exchange for being invoked there had been those who chose one spirit to adopt as their patron, invoking no other. Only relatively recently had they congregated into adherencies, their communion with the spirits supposedly affording them the wisdom to help guide the empire. The wisdoms of the various adherencies often came into conflict, seeing them oppose other adherencies as much as the bureaucracy or the high houses – although relations between some adherencies were stable, ostensibly mirroring relations between the spirits. They'd gained some influence over society, from what Adajo had heard. Presumably that happened in the power centres, as he'd only had experience of their local adherent, Aejna, helping with the crops.
'Is there evidence indicating Sobel may be involved?' asked Zobrek.
'It would appear Kilipa was engaged in relations with a local at Water Dances on the Rocks.'
'How widely known is this?'
'I'm uncertain. It doesn't appear widely known in the area. The scholar accompanying him, Sisama Varnu, had suspicions. It's unclear how much he knows.'
'He was unforthcoming?'
'He appeared to withhold something, which may be unrelated. Given the Sisama family's influence in the province, I haven't yet pushed him.'
Zobrek was silent a moment. 'Very well. Various parties have shown interest in the incident. While a speedy resolution would be useful, discretion should take priority. Try to limit the more delicate revelations.'
