I addressed Yago Boll once again. ‘Though you had few dealings with her, may I ask what you heard about her private life?’
‘Oh, Trymus’ balls, where to start,’ he said, looking down at her finely dressed corpse.
‘How about last night? People must speak.’
‘From what I heard, she was the same as ever. Flitting like a butterfly from person to person. She knew how to work the room. She was tempting enough to make any sane person behave out of character.’
‘Do you think that someone could have been jealous of such behaviour? Was there anyone serious in her life?’
Yago Boll shook his head and scratched his breastbone. His shirt showed signs of perspiration as the day grew hotter.
‘Can you give me any names of men you saw her with on the night?’ I asked.
‘If I did, you’d spend the next few days of your life speaking to them all.’
‘You exaggerate, surely.’
‘I never exaggerate.’ His manner darkened. ‘There could have been perhaps ten, eleven men I saw her flirting with – and that was just at a casual glance, I was not going out of my way to keep track of her.’ He gestured to the bed dismissively. ‘Who knows how many men – or women for that matter – had the privilege of seeing this ceiling.’
‘Indeed,’ I replied, somewhat curious. The rumoured outlandish behaviour of Lacanta just didn’t seem to match the simplicity of her bedroom.
Later, Veron handed over a large box full of statements from the party guests. He suggested that I might want to take them home with me to comb through for intriguing facts.
‘I tell you one thing,’ Veron added shrugging, ‘and that’s if you solve this, you’ll be as famous as your father. You’re well known already. So why not stop by at mine to dine tonight? Oh, and bring your servant… Leana, I think you said? I want to invite a few other guests and they’ll be fascinated to see someone as interesting as she is. You say she can fight?’
‘She’s not some wrestler or some gladiator.’ I gave an awkward laugh. ‘There are plenty of people just like her across Vispasia. I’m sure there’s even a community of Atrewens in the city, if you cared to look.’
‘They must have taught you some bizarre things in Venyn. Where did you find her?’
‘I didn’t find her.’
‘Buy her?’
‘She’s not a slave.’ I placed the box to one side while I explained how I’d met her.
I had been on business in Atrewe, beyond the southern seas and the borders of Vispasia. My investigation took me to one of the Vispasian Royal Union trading posts. There, tribes were fighting to secure a mineral deposit – there were bloody massacres, and it was like the gods of hell had taken vengeance. The loss of life – and of such remarkable ancient relics – was painful to witness.
Leana had been one of the few members of her tribe left alive after one such massacre, somehow managing to survive the violence in which twenty thousand people were slaughtered. What I didn’t tell Veron was that, as I stepped among the ruins of a broken temple away from my entourage to gather my thoughts, Leana tried to kill me. Her sword missed my neck by a matter of inches as I knocked her weapon aside.
I shouted something at her, I can’t remember what, but when she snapped at me in broken Detratan I was taken aback. She accused me of scavenging among the dead for trinkets, and I said what dead? That was when she led me to the bodies of her people, a sight I’ll never forget – Leana won’t either.
She asked me for work, said there was nothing left for her. That she wanted to get away, to put a sea between herself and these horrors. As it happened, I had recently lost my previous assistant because he wanted to stay at home to care for his family. Even if the gods had arranged it, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Both of us benefited from the deal.
‘Well, it’s a splendid tale,’ Veron sighed. There was something about the man’s mannerisms that suggested he longed to be far away from here. ‘You must both come tonight then. It’s absolutely settled. My guests will love such a story. We will have good wines, artisanal breads, unusual meats, and music while you provide entertainments.’
Smiling awkwardly, I picked up the box of statements again, wondering if everyone in Tryum was this superficial.
Before I left, though, I asked one final question of the senator. ‘I don’t suppose you know where Senator Divran lives, do you?’
‘I’d stay away from that mad old witch if I were you. What do you want her for?’
‘Answers as always. Does she live far from here?’
‘Not at all. Only a few streets away as it happens.’
The Witch
Senator Divran’s house was a surprisingly small building located on one of the most expensive streets in the city. There were no shops, no reason for normal citizens to stray down these roads. Soldiers made reassuringly regular patrols. A few domestic cats trotted about with the authority of lions. It seemed every bit as secure and well kept as one might expect of a district where the senatorial class resided.
Divran’s house was slender, but judging by the surrounding architecture it went some way back. The wooden shutters were closed and for a moment it appeared as if no one was in, but when I knocked on the door a young maid in a soft blue gown answered.
‘Is Senator Divran at home?’
‘She is,’ the maid said, hesitating for a moment. She seemed someone whose face was normally disposed to happiness, yet something was very uncertain in her mannerisms. She glanced with wild eyes to the large box I was carrying, and must have wondered if I was selling something.
‘Well, can I talk to her?’ I asked, explaining my position.
‘Yes. Please, if you wouldn’t mind waiting for a moment in the study.’ She led me through rooms that had little in the way of natural light, and fetched me a cup of water before leaving me among Divran’s books and papers.
Placing my box to one side, I glanced across some of the tomes, noting some very esoteric titles coming from all over Vispasia. There were papers bound by string on subjects such as natural sciences and ancient religions. Vast lists and strange diagrams that looked more like maps. Some of them displayed stains, what could have been flecks of dried blood – certainly not ink. On some, calculations had been written, based on very old numerical systems, pre-dating the Empire by several hundred years. What could they have been?
Cupboards, shelves and small drawers, each made with exquisite craftsmanship, stood against one wall. Curious, I nudged open one of the small doors to see the skeletons of small rodents arranged on a shelf. In another was the partially decayed carcass of what appeared to be a crow. What reason could there be for a senator to possess these bones? Was every single drawer and cupboard filled with decaying creatures?
Aware that Divran would soon arrive, I moved across to the sole bright spot in the room. A small window looked out over a courtyard plastered in decorative frescos, scenes from nature that seemed an artistic extension of the garden. For a moment I lost my mind in its wonder.
‘Good afternoon, officer Drakenfeld,’ a voice said.
An attractive woman in her late forties or early fifties stood before me, with auburn hair, a broad face and brown eyes, wearing a vibrant high-necked blue dress. She was slender, in an athletic way, and she looked at me as if my mere presence delighted her in a primal sense, like an animal that had wandered into a trap.
‘Senator. Thank you for seeing me.’
‘Well, it was only a matter of time before you came, wasn’t it?’ she sighed. ‘Let’s get it over with.’