Drakenfeld

by Mark Charan Newton

  ‘Maxant, too,’ he declared, and I watched his expression very carefully.

  ‘It seems so, sir.’

  ‘You are the one who claims this is not a suicide. That is what my staff inform me.’

  ‘That’s correct, sir,’ I replied, and explained my reasoning.

  For a moment Licintius remained silent, contemplating either my words or his fine garden. I, too, could not help but stare at the fine statues, ornate water features and immaculately kept plants.

  ‘You have a fine mind,’ the king said. ‘Is it, I wonder, any closer to working out who killed my sister? I fear for her spirit’s safety.’

  ‘I can’t be sure, sir, but I have my theories. I’m much closer than when we last spoke, but I would not yet feel comfortable accusing anyone.’

  ‘Tell me what you know so far.’

  I explained my suspicions about Maxant being the first to enter the room and, potentially, being the only man who could have placed the key in the back of the lock to make it look as if the door had been locked from the inside.

  ‘As to why he did this, I could not say. And, I should add, that it is not certain that he did so. I would not like to accuse the dead – I merely speak in terms of the most likely turn of events.’

  The king remained unreadable. ‘You realize you speak ill of my own general?’

  ‘It is a working theory,’ I confessed.

  ‘And you know nothing else?’

  ‘I have spoken to many people already, sir, including several senators. I hope to interview more shortly.’

  Licintius nodded as if I had merely confirmed something he already knew. ‘Very good, Drakenfeld.’ He rose and, uncontrollably, I stood to attention.

  Licintius paused to regard Leana, who lowered her gaze. ‘You, lady. You rode well in the stadium two days ago, didn’t you?’

  Leana inclined her head and replied, ‘I rode for Atrewe. Sir.’

  ‘You did your country proud. Should you find yourself no longer working for Drakenfeld, you could always make a go of things as a stadium rider.’

  With that, he turned his back to us and strode slowly to the door. ‘I want more answers soon, Drakenfeld. I have lost a sister and a general, and someone must suffer for these actions or I’ll hear the reason why not.’

  The soldiers followed him out of the room, and that was that.

  It was mid-morning by the time we arrived back at my house. I was left with an overwhelming sense of desperation, as always when I was halfway to solving something. One might think that such a stage should generate feelings of optimism, but it did not, especially with the pressure of having to please the king. It didn’t help that I half-suspected the king was involved in some way, and where would that leave me?

  A messenger stopped by, covered in dust and sweat, having returned from one of the outposts of the Sun Chamber on the nation’s border.

  He left me with a note from my superiors, and I felt an immediate sense of relief. They had received my notification of Maxant’s death and were mustering a small, military cell of fifty soldiers to establish itself outside the city by tomorrow morning at the earliest.

  It would be discreet – this would not be a visible warning to the people of Tryum – but it would be there if I needed assistance. Details were provided for how to contact them and where they would be stationed.

  I still had the apothecaries to hunt down and so searched for the list of addresses. The vial containing my father’s poison was still safe, and I placed both it and the list in my pockets, before calling Leana.

  Another busy day stretched ahead and together we headed through the streets of Tryum.

  ‘What do you hope to gain?’ Leana asked as we weaved our way through a crowded lane. Merchants were trying to lead their animals through, which caused quite a ruckus, and our progress was slow. ‘You know it is poison, yes?’

  ‘I need confirmation whether or not my father had acquired the vial himself.’

  ‘It seems likely though? Also, a poisoner would not leave a vial lying for someone to find.’

  ‘No,’ I replied, raising my voice above the noise of traders calling out from the nearby stalls. ‘But I need to find out what his final movements were – for my own peace of mind. I still need confirmation of his behaviour. It is important to me.’

  ‘Has the sudden talk of suicide hurt you?’

  ‘I just need to settle it.’

  The apothecaries were scattered about the city from Regallum to Vellyum, but the first few we tried yielded no luck. Few of them dealt with poisons and not one of them had seen anyone who fitted the description of my father. As we moved from store to store, I began to wonder if my father had not purchased the poison himself but had been killed by someone else. Leana was right in suggesting that the speculation of Maxant’s own death had brought about a sense of shame over my father’s own death. Though Polla did not place as great a value on such things as, say, Trymus or Festonia – in Polla’s eyes there is not a huge amount of difference between the living and the dead anyway – the social stigma of suicide lingered heavily in my mind.

  We worked our way down-city, towards the slum districts and the poorer shops. Children ran about in rags, old women sat in the shade of awnings kneading dough, and soothsayers were exchanging glimpses into the future for coin.

  ‘So many soothsayers in Tryum,’ Leana said.

  ‘People will resort to anything to make more sense of their own world.’

  ‘Did you grow up believing nonsense?’

  ‘No,’ I laughed. ‘In Polla’s writings, she does not agree with such sentiments. Polla requires only that we try to make our own sense of what goes on as best we can, and to put our faith in the unseen forces. I’ll admit desperate times might make me consider such options, but I soon regain my composure.’

  Leana grunted, though I could not say whether it was a positive or disapproving noise.

  The last apothecary on our list was found next to a ruined temple. Outside, two old men were naked, their bodies covered in lines of red paint, prostrating themselves before a statue of a woman, now and then throwing water and flower petals over their heads. Incense wafted around the streets, mixing with the stench of the sewers.

  The shop was large in comparison to the other buildings in this neighbourhood. Inside were stained wooden floors, a low ceiling that looked like it would buckle at any moment, and crates of bottles stacked up precariously against the wall to my right. Herbs covered the walls, papers littered the floor, and there was a sense that the proprietor was about to go on the run. As it happened, he was not – a lean man with the long beard of a prophet stepped forward from a back room, and greeted us with disdain.

  ‘I’m an officer of the Sun Chamber. I want to ask you a few questions.’

  ‘Sun what? Means nothing to me,’ he replied with a laugh. ‘That like the army or summat?’

  ‘Sun Chamber,’ I corrected.

  ‘If you say so. Anyway, I’m busy.’ His eyes didn’t seem to focus on mine.

  Leana stepped forward, unsheathed her sword and pressed the point into the man’s grubby-looking stomach.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he grunted. ‘It’s not like I’ve got much of a future round here.’

  I asked Leana to step back and continued more calmly. ‘I believe my father came here and bought some wares off you.’

  ‘I don’t do refunds,’ the man replied, casting a suspicious glare in our direction.

  ‘Look,’ I continued, ‘I just want to know something very simple – whether or not you sold my father poison.’ I gave a description of him and a rough estimate of when my father might have come here.

  ‘Father, y’ say?’ The man looked me up and down before his eyes settled on my Sun Chamber brooch. ‘Man came in here weeks ago wearing something that looked exactly like that.’ His finger prodded the brooch and I nodded. ‘I ain’t so good with descriptions, lad. My memory ain’t what it used to be. That’s a blessing round these parts. People want to r
emain unknown – that’s why they come to me and not the fancy places – but I remember a brooch like that all right. He didn’t look much like you though.’

  ‘Did you sell him this?’ I held up the vial.

  The man smirked and shuffled into his back room. A moment later he returned with a box, which he opened to reveal dozens of similar vials.

  ‘These are mine,’ he replied. ‘I only keep the blue ones for poisons – to keep it separate from the other potions.’

  ‘So my father did come here.’

  The expression on the apothecary’s face relaxed a little. His voice lost its bitter edge. He looked as if he felt sorry for me. ‘I did sell it, yeah. But so what? I sell a lot of poison.’

  ‘Did he come here asking specifically for this? Did he seem hesitant in any way?’

  ‘He asked for this one, there was no doubt he knew what it was for. People don’t buy that sort of thing to cure headaches, though it would do the job just as well. I know you’re looking for answers, son, but you’ll not find much. All I can say is that I’ve rarely seen a man so lacking in spirit and vitality. I put it down to age, but when a man buys poison, well . . . All you know is that someone’s life is going to end, sooner or later.’

  We went outside and I crouched down in the street, holding my face in my hands. A cart clattered by and the driver cursed at a passer-by. Dust rose up around me and my eyes soon began to sting. Dreary shades of yellow and brown began to merge in my blurred vision.

  I could only speculate at the pressure my father must have felt to have taken such an act, to have made that decision to end his existence and take his chances with the gods.

  Leana placed her hand on my shoulder and she guided me to my feet again.

  ‘No one need know,’ she said. ‘You carry the shame only in your heart – others cannot see in there.’

  We walked most of the way back along the backstreets of Tryum in silence. The only thing that brought me out of my glum state of mind was seeing a stand that sold a selection of straw dolls – one was very much similar to a gift I had given Titiana years ago. We had taken a ride out to the woods that day, where we camped and ate roasted meats under the starlight. Those were more innocent times.

  I purchased the small doll, which was no taller than my fore-finger, and slipped it into my pocket. Leana frowned at me but didn’t comment, and we continued on our way.

  We arrived home at dusk. I was hoping to avoid speaking to anyone, but the men of the Civil Cohorts seemed in buoyant mood.

  They eagerly revealed they had caught several thieves today, and had kept an immaculate and precise record of the persons involved, which would inevitably lead to private prosecutions. Their aggressive questioning had linked two of the men back to a gang who sought to gain the blessing of a couple of senators, to get work come the election season.

  Veron, who had by now returned, was delighted with this news – as he could use it for his own purposes in the Senate. Now that they had a more robust point of contact and sense of organization, they had found the citizens of Tryum wanted to bother them with all sorts of trivial matters. One reasonably well-off man had been struggling to cook his dinner, because his wife was ill, and was so panicked that he decided to reach out to the cohorts for help.

  ‘As if we could produce anything better than sludge!’ Farrum chuckled. ‘I told him to bugger off in the end. Wasting our time like that.’

  ‘People will want to look up to you all the time now they know where to come. I’ve had it often over the years – we are in a position to help people, so naturally they’ll come to us. Don’t be too harsh in judging them.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right. So any more ideas on the murders?’ Farrum asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ I replied.

  ‘Did you manage to speak to any senators?’

  ‘No.’

  I opened the door to my room and was both surprised and relieved to find Titiana sitting on my bed. Though I had hoped for solitude, her company was not a disappointment.

  She asked me how my day had been and I gave her an honest assessment. Her soothing gestures and touches opened me up yet again, and when I spoke of my meeting the king she stared at me with awe.

  ‘What’s he like?’ she asked. ‘I think I’ve only ever seen statues of him, but we all know how reliable they can be. What’s he like as a person? Tell me.’

  Charmed by her innocence, I gave her my opinion of him – that, ultimately, he was a good person, smart and dedicated. But this time I hinted that the king wasn’t being entirely honest with me about Lacanta. ‘He seems to be a link, somehow, between all of these killings, this whole mess. I’m missing something, and I can almost see it – perhaps I already have, but I just need more time.’

  ‘I can’t stay for long,’ Titiana whispered. ‘I should have said so when you first came in, but then I saw your sad face.’

  ‘You don’t need me to moan at you all night long. I’m not ideal company right now.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand. My husband will be returning to Tryum shortly. I may not be able to come back here as easily.’

  ‘Oh,’ I replied. This was something I really should have anticipated. I searched my mind for the right thing to say, but could only mutter, ‘When can we meet again?’

  Titiana looked to the floor. ‘I really don’t know, Lucan.’

  I nodded my understanding. I did not need telling twice.

  Titiana gazed up, unsettling me with her focused eyes. ‘I want you to know, though, that whatever happens . . . I have . . . these past few days have been—’

  I placed a finger to her lips and kissed her brow. ‘It’s taken me all this time to finally find you again. The gods will, I’m sure, arrange for another meeting soon enough.’

  ‘Hopefully it won’t be another ten years.’ She took my hand and steered me to the bed.

  What followed was both intense and upsetting, both a union and a separation. Every moment, each gesture seemed to be stretched out in time; and the passion wasn’t the same. There was an overwhelming sense of loss about the act – the sudden promise of her absence highlighted some other emptiness inside me.

  Afterwards I watched her getting dressed, asking myself if I had wasted my time with her. I had hardly taken my time to understand the only woman with whom I’d genuinely known intimacy like this.

  Before she exited, I reached down to the floor and picked out the doll from my trouser pocket. ‘I bought this, earlier,’ I whispered, and held it up for her. ‘It reminded me of when things were a lot easier.’

  Titiana took it with tears in her eyes. She kissed my outstretched fingers and turned to go. Vaguely I wondered if I’d see her again. If these were my final acts with her, were they particularly memorable? Would she cherish anything that had happened between us?

  I sat in the stillness of my room for some time, staring at the ceiling, and growing increasingly annoyed with myself for allowing my actions to get out of my control.

  With a lantern in my hand I shuffled across to the corner of the room and stood in front of a small marble bust of Polla; there, I fell to both knees, placing the lantern on the tiles beside me. I had said to Leana earlier that Polla required her followers to make their own sense of what went on in this world, and that we should put our faith in the unseen forces.

  ‘Well here I am, goddess,’ I whispered, with my arms out wide and with my chest naked to her. ‘Here I am, with my father bringing shame to my family, my lover having walked into the night for the final time and a murder that involves the most important people in the nation. You are no soothsayer, goddess, but my logic is failing me now. I could do with a sign, or a message. Anything.’

  In the silence that answered my call, I stretched out on the floor, exhausted from the day, and stared into the warm, flickering light of the lantern, and a harsh scent came to me . . .

  A Sign

  I was staring sideways at Leana’s boots, the floor tiles cool against my aching cheek.


  ‘Another seizure,’ she grunted matter-of-factly, placing her hands either side of my ribs. She hauled me up and onto my bed.

  Feeling rather numb, I said, ‘That was not the sign I was hoping for.’ I grunted.

  Leana gave a soft smile. ‘Praying to your goddess will not help you. You have given your heart to another woman instead. Or, perhaps she has taken it of her own accord, who can tell?’

  Leana moved to scoop up her cloak, which she had used as a headrest.

  ‘How long was I gone?’ I asked.

  ‘I cannot be sure. I was in the hallway when your woman left you. I heard your foot kick the wall not long after. I do not think it was any longer than normal.’

  ‘I should really take those herbs from the apothecary.’

  ‘You should. And this is better, Lucan. Herbs, something real. Practical logic. No prayers.’

  ‘You talk to your spirit gods,’ I said. ‘There’s no difference. We each need help with what we can’t see.’ Leana walked to the door and I called out softly, ‘I don’t thank you enough for what you do.’

  ‘I will not refuse a pay rise, if you feel guilty about it.’ Leana left the door ajar as she left.

  Sleep came intermittently that evening, and I was as sensitive as ever to the grinding carts and night-shouts of Tryum.

  When I finally came out of my room, Bellona was standing in the hallway, having only just written a message on parchment.

  ‘Has someone called already?’

  ‘You were asleep and I did not want to disturb you.’

  Smiling softly, she handed me the letter.

  ‘It was the priest again,’ she continued. ‘I did what you said and took down more details, but he would not share that much. All he said was that he was a priest from the Temple of Ptrell—’

  ‘Ptrell?’

  ‘Yes.’

  As in the Mark of Ptrell – the discreet, engraved mark on the wall in Optryx. At the time I had thought it a sign, a piece of esoteric graffiti perhaps, but Ptrell was such a rare god.