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Outside, however, there was no sign of blood on the floor or walls.

There were no windows here, no open roof. The only light came from candles and paper lanterns – of which there were many. Several votive offerings of food and cups of water lay on an altar and incense was burning. To one side lay the mask of Trymus, a garish, white and purple chequered object with gold trim.

‘Maxant was to wear that for his triumph,’ Veron commented when I paused by it. He added dryly: ‘Soldiers aren’t known for their sense of fashion.’

‘Who lit the incense?’ I asked, examining the smoke. Gentle blue wisps carried the deep woody aroma around the temple. Several small, unlit pyramids stood to one side. ‘It’s been burning for some time now.’

No one seemed to know the answer to my question. I inhaled the smoke, noting that it was the same kind of sandalwood that could be found in any temple in Vispasia.

‘It must have been like that when everyone entered,’ I continued. ‘This incident occurred around an hour or so ago, it seems, and may I confirm that no one had come in for some time beforehand?’

Veron consulted with one of the soldiers from the King’s Legion, who stood resplendent in his purple robes and polished armour. ‘Not even so much as a pontiff,’ he confirmed. ‘As I say, none of the guests saw anything.’

‘I have many more questions, but let me summarize to be clear: around midnight, the king’s sister Lacanta was found with her throat cut. The weapon is not here. None of her jewellery has been removed and she has – I will assume for now – not been tampered with. The temple was locked and sealed, and the key left in the door, on the inside. There’s no other way into the temple unless one was a god; no way out, apart from through those doors.’ I pointed towards them. ‘There is no blood outside that we have seen thus far and, finally, it appears that whoever was in here with her lit incense at the altar of Trymus.’

Leana moved in closer. ‘All of this on the night of a big celebration.’

‘Maybe the killer wanted to scare the guests,’ Veron offered.

‘Perhaps, though there are more subtle ways of scaring people.’

‘The killer might worship Trymus.’ Leana indicated the statue and offerings.

‘Another possibility – it’s a rather morbid sacrifice, if it is one. It’s not uncommon for his temples to receive blood donations, though it is usually from oxen, goat or chickens. How long do you think Lacanta has been dead?’

Veron moved to stand next to us. ‘One of the soldiers claimed her body was still warm when we found it, though it is a hot night and this temple rarely gets cold. Obviously it’s colder now and she’s becoming fixed in place by Malax in his Underworld.’

‘The gods don’t hang about. We’re going to have to get statements from as many people as possible,’ I said.

‘I wouldn’t have thought that will be a problem,’ Veron replied.

‘Who had access to the key?’

‘There are a few copies kept in the back offices, copies are kept for every lock in the building. Though it’s a private temple, Trymus grants access to all. This section of Optryx isn’t anywhere near as secure as the other side, where the king resides.’

I made a note to ask the temple’s pontiff about copies. ‘Where’s King Licintius? I take it he’s aware of this?’

Veron gave a sad laugh. ‘Poor Licintius followed the soldiers into the room when they found her. He fled to his private quarters in an immediate rage. I’ve never seen him so angry. General Maxant first sent his soldiers to close all the doors in Optryx and to stop people leaving, and then went up to join the king. I don’t think any of the soldiers have the nerve to approach him just yet – in his mood, he might well turn them into eunuchs.’

‘So this is Calludian’s son,’ came another voice. A small, hunched old man shuffled towards me, pushing past the guards on the door with a scowl on his cleanly shaven face. Thin wisps of hair clung to his sweaty head, and he used a stick to prop himself up as he walked. He gave me a look of utter contempt. ‘I never did like the Sun Chamber. Ideas above your station, if you ask me. No one votes for you.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,’ I offered. ‘Please, don’t come too close to the body, you might contaminate the scene.’

‘See what I mean?’ the man scoffed to Veron. ‘Ideas above his station in life.’

Veron looked apologetic. ‘This is Senator Chastra. Senator, this is Lucan Drakenfeld, officer of the Sun Chamber.’

‘I’ve heard all about him and his dark bodyguard,’ Chastra muttered, examining Leana with his bright green eyes and a sneer on his face. His mind was still active, even if his body wasn’t up to much. He turned to face me. ‘A woman, too. That must make you feel quite effeminate.’

‘If you’re keen to prove your masculinity, you could always challenge her to a fight.’

Veron placed his face in his palms at my reply. Leana remained impassive.

‘I wouldn’t want to dirty myself with foreigners,’ Chastra replied. ‘Besides, the only fighting I do is with my words.’

‘He certainly does,’ agreed Veron. ‘You should hear him in the Senate – he still gives a rather devastating speech on occasion.’

‘Senator Chastra,’ I said turning to face him. ‘Presumably you’re not here to dazzle us with your charm. You are a man of words so what have you to offer about this incident?’

‘All I have to say on the matter is that it’s unlikely you’ll find the killer. This one was struck down by the gods. Struck down for living an immoral life. A murder in a place like this brings bad omens to the city.’

‘Is that so?’ I asked.

‘Look around you. Solid walls and a sealed door. Struck down by the gods. I’ll be damned if I can work it out.’

‘That’s why you’re not in the Sun Chamber,’ I replied, noting a rare smile on Leana’s face as she continued to examine the temple.

‘If it isn’t the gods, maybe Senator Divran is right with mutterings of magic. But I’ll wager some divine power was at work.’

‘Did you see Lacanta at all tonight?’ I asked.

‘Of course,’ Chastra spluttered. ‘We all did. Earlier this evening she was mingling with her brother and General Maxant, talking to Veron, me, half a dozen other senators. In fact, some of us saw her – and were conversing with her – no more than a few moments before the temple doors were opened. A matter of minutes.’

‘Ridiculous, if that’s what you claim,’ Veron declared. ‘People were standing just outside the door as part of the celebrations for the better part of a whole hour. Dozens would have seen her killer leaving the room if the murder was so soon after you saw her.’

‘You might think it impossible,’ Chastra said more calmly, ‘but I saw what I saw.’

Not impossible, I reassured myself – just baffling.

Impressed by the clarity of his recollection, I listened to what the old senator had to say, and began to patch together a narrative timeline of the evening.

As was clear, Licintius had been holding a huge celebration for General Maxant and his conquests. The two of them were practically inseparable all evening, the king proud of what was happening to his nation, bringing it more prestige and power within the Vispasian Royal Union. Lacanta had been with them for a short while, before going on to blend in with the crowd, regaling people with her tales, using her charm on many of the male senators in front of their own wives. She was, by all accounts, not only rich and alluring – but beautiful, too, a powerful combination of traits, yet her antics, getting thrills from playing mind games, seemed at odds with the other aspects of her personality.