Who had one of the keys to the temple?
Tracking Lacanta’s final moments last night was going to be crucial. It was essential to find out who she had spoken to in the evening, who was nearby, who might have been following her, whether or not there were any strange occurrences. Perhaps the witness statements would prove fruitful. It would require a good day or so ploughing through their observations – that is if the soldiers could be trusted to record a reliable account.
Also, I needed to get a better idea of who would want Lacanta murdered, though that would not be an easy task. By Lillus’ account at his barber’s shop, a concise summary of rumours, she was both popular and despised, depending on whether or not one was the recipient of her alluring gestures.
Conscious not to be late for my appointment with King Licintius, I washed, changed and made to head out into the morning sun. But before I did I asked a favour of Leana: to see if the people of the city were talking. So often a lead had come off the back of local gossip that turned out to be more than just idle chatter. It was also useful for Leana to begin exploring the more marginal parts of the city, the hidden taverns and the backstreet dice dens, which might develop into useful points of contact in future.
We were going to be around in Tryum for a while.
The soldiers manning the entrance to the open courtyard in front of Optryx were not interested in my badge of office, though I did need to give the day’s password, which Veron had told me last night. Security was tighter now – was this a reaction to the murder? If indeed it was, it had come far too late.
The building was quiet, not at all what I assumed would be the bustling residence of servants, administrative staff and politicians in full flow. Senator Veron met me and steered me towards a small side room with a highly polished desk, marble floor, and shelves full of books. Judging by the abacus, it must have been some kind of accounting or stocktaking room.
Inside was a dark-haired man in his early forties wearing military garb, a deep red tunic, leather breastplate, and with a sword sheathed at his side. Dark, short and well-oiled hair, and with a wide yet lean face, he was muscular, confident and relaxed. Reaching out with his right hand, he stood to greet me. His forearm was incredibly solid, and it had been a while since someone had gripped my own arm so tightly. Though I was a relatively tall man, he looked down on me. Small scars of battle were dotted about his face.
Senator Veron conducted the introductions: ‘General Maxant, may I present to you Lucan Drakenfeld, Tryum’s new officer of the Sun Chamber.’
Maxant stared intensely with his bold, hazel eyes. His manner was proud. ‘The son of Calludian returns home.’
The words sounded like some kind of accusation. ‘You knew my father?’
‘Not well, but we met many years ago. I remembered him to be a good man. Honourable, reliable. Keen eye for detail. I hope this remains a family trait.’
‘As do I. I’m sorry to meet you under such circumstances.’
He turned to the desk and gestured to two pieces of paper. ‘We matched a register taken last night to the guest list. Everyone is accountable. Everyone has at least another to vouch for their presence. Everyone who was invited remained here until released.’
‘Very effective work by your soldiers, general,’ I said.
‘Good men, my lot. We’ve been through much.’
I could only imagine the exertions of a long campaign. Maxant’s army had been abroad for years. They had lost ten thousand men over that period, had fought many battles and skirmishes, and at one point faced starvation. For them to have stuck at it so long would have required a phenomenal sense of loyalty and leadership. Indeed, they had been through so much.
I looked at the guest list. People had been arranged into classes of status, from the men and women of the Senate through to respected citizens of the city. ‘These weren’t the only people here last night. Where are the lists for the staff, the soldiers?’
Maxant nodded. ‘We will get a list of them and let you know if there is something of note. As for the actors—’
‘What access did they have?’ I asked. ‘What were the productions, how long were they in the building?’
Maxant looked to Senator Veron, who shrugged. ‘I’ll ask around. We’ll get the answers – don’t worry.’
‘I would appreciate that.’
‘King Licintius wishes to see you shortly,’ Maxant announced. ‘We have a few moments yet before we must go.’
Senator Veron moved to the shelves to glance at the books. ‘How’s he been since last night, general?’
‘How do you think?’ Maxant snapped. ‘Licintius is devastated. He loved his sister deeply. Their bond was strong, and who else can he really trust? Everyone thinks they can do a better job. Him and his sister were left in powerful positions at a young age with only each other for confidences, so I suspect he feels utterly alone now.’
‘Indeed, it’s very sad, very sad,’ Veron said. ‘Still, at least he has his general back now to confide in.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Maxant stood a little taller as if to express his dominance in the room. Veron seemed oblivious to the fact, merely raising one eyebrow at the now-bitter tone of the general.
Veron shrugged. ‘Only that you’re an old friend, and no doubt he’ll be glad you’re back to help him through this.’
Maxant grunted and turned his back on the senator.
‘The Senate will discuss the matter shortly,’ Veron continued. ‘We must see to it that we establish some firm facts before the rumours spread across the city. Of course, if Drakenfeld here is as sharp as his father, hopefully we’ll have no need to worry about rumours.’
No matter how sharp I might be, it wouldn’t stop people talking.
We exited the room and were absorbed into a larger contingent of officials and soldiers, twelve of us in all. Hushed instructions passed back and forth: ‘You wait for the king to arrive. You fall to two knees – not one, do not bow – two knees. Do not look him in the eye until he has spoken.’
Our group passed through the marble corridors and under the immense domes once again, which were even more impressive in the light of day. We did not walk by the temple. I wanted to return to the scene of the crime in the hope of working out the mechanics of the incident without the distraction of others.
The huge chamber we entered next left me awed. I had never seen such artwork adorning plaster like this – not in quantity, style or clarity. Every vacant wall space was covered in hugely expensive hues, great vistas or scenes from the myths of our lands – that looked so real they could have been alive. Large windows pierced the walls. Through one of the lower ones could be seen the rooftops of Tryum, and the little plumes of smoke from domestic hearths. A city as yet unaware of the crime that had been committed against its monarch.
We were instructed to stand in the centre of the room. The floors were made of highly polished white marble; bold red pillars lined the chamber like a temple, leading to steps up to a cushioned throne. Made of dark wood, the throne was carved in such detail that it couldn’t be appreciated from where we stood. Nobody spoke. The faces of the others betrayed their anxiousness, although Maxant seemed relaxed.
Moments later, after the clattering of a few doors, two soldiers of the King’s Legion led a man into the room.