‘Perhaps after I find Lacanta’s killer, I may be able to enjoy such matters, but not at the moment.’
The reminder seemed to sober him, and his countenance grew more serious. ‘Indeed. Now go on, mingle, and you will have some more wine, won’t you? I’ve purchased many amphorae for tonight, and it all needs to be drunk, else people will say I am a bad host. I might be many bad things, but a bad host I am not.’
‘I’ll not drink too much,’ I replied. ‘My father’s funeral is after dawn tomorrow. It probably wouldn’t be all that respectful – to him or the gods – if I turned up reeking of wine.’
Veron smiled and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. ‘You are your father’s son.’ Then he turned to mix with his guests once again.
‘No,’ I promised myself. ‘I’m more than that.’
A handsome middle-aged lady approached me when I was on my own, and talked about love like she knew what it meant. I’m not sure what she wanted of me – I’m not even certain that she knew herself – but she soon left me alone again. I talked with one of the other guests – a good-looking young man – one who had been close to Lacanta.
‘How close?’ I asked, and the look I received was innuendo enough. The same individual then questioned me gently, touching my arm, and asked me if I would like to return to his house afterwards. I politely declined, without trying to bruise his ego, and he seemed to brush off the rejection well enough.
Such attention might have been flattering, but I saw that many of the guests here were looking for reasons to disappear with another. Parties could on occasion be pointless for a Sun Chamber official, but when there was a case going on, they could also provide fascinating details as wine liberated people from their inhibitions, and secrets were spilled. At least I could begin to get a picture of Lacanta’s social scene, which was a boon for someone unfamiliar with contemporary life in the city. She was hated and loved by many; there was no shortage of narratives winding around her life.
There seemed to be an air of desperation about tonight’s conversations. Many people would often whisper in brief, urgent moments away from the other guests. I suspected that, with so many senators in the room, political manoeuvring was the topic of the night, yet I had heard nothing of note, only the occasional muttering about foreigners, about borders, about the glories of old – and of military expansion. More than one individual expressed an interest in purchasing Mauland slaves, too.
Eventually, a little later into the evening, I managed to speak to General Maxant. We stood in the large garden by the fountain, enjoying the balmy Tryum evening. Tonight he was wearing two metal bracelets on one arm, of the kind awarded for bravery on the battlefield.
‘How goes the investigation?’ he asked.
‘I’m listening to what people have to say for the moment. All I’ve heard so far concerns either ghosts or magic.’
He grunted something that could have been disapproval, but I knew Maxant had spent too much time away from the city to know about such things.
‘You were on the scene of the murder before anyone else,’ I said. ‘You and your men opened that door to the temple.’
‘With some difficulty.’ He stared into the fountain. ‘We are not weak men, Drakenfeld, and it took a lot of us to break open that door.’
‘And even though you were among the first to gain entry, you saw nothing at all? No one who might have been hiding in the shadows. No one who could have sneaked out when the moment was ripe.’
‘If we had seen a man, Drakenfeld, his head would now be sitting on a spike outside Optryx,’ he replied angrily. ‘We are not the kind of people to dither on such matters. You might not like our kind of justice, but it’s quick.’
‘I meant, rather, that something might have been at the periphery of your mind. Maybe it could have been the strange movements of those around you. Someone stepping in behind who you did not think should be there. A figure out of place perhaps.’
‘We’re the best soldiers in Detrata. Highly trained. Alert at all times. Back from a glorious campaign. There were eight soldiers present, eight who entered the room ahead of a surge of senatorial types and I’m telling you that none of us saw anything in that room other than Lacanta, on the floor, covered in blood.’
Two guests walked by, badly pretending not to have heard the general. I considered if one of the soldiers had done the deed in a rapid move, but it might not have been at all possible. Even if it was, the general wasn’t going to say anything. Was he involved himself ? I thought back to what Yago Boll had said about the murder weapon being a small blade – not the sort of thing that a soldier would carry. Even now Maxant’s sword was at his side.
‘A tragic situation,’ I said softly. ‘I think all we can safely say is that Lacanta’s death was not suicide. At least, not with those wounds.’
‘Suicide is a cowardly way out,’ he grunted. ‘The gods don’t look kindly on such matters. Especially Trymus – he abhors such things. Lacanta wasn’t the type to resort to suicide.’
‘I’ve seen the most unlikely figures kill themselves,’ I said. ‘Our heads are complex instruments.’
Maxant shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t have done that.’
‘Did you know her well?’
‘I knew her – not well – but I knew her. I’ve been good friends with Licintius for much of my life. Admittedly much of what I know of her is through his eyes.’ Maxant paused for a moment, then continued more softly. ‘He held her in great affection. That’s enough for me to know she was a good sort.’
‘She seems not to be as popular as I would have thought,’ I said, ‘for a good sort in such a prominent position. People here offer a somewhat different view.’
Maxant chuckled. ‘Depends on who you speak to.’
‘Well, now I’m speaking to you.’
‘I’d no problem with her, if that’s what you’re getting at. She was probably too scared of a rough old thing like me. Tend to attract certain types, we soldiers.’ He grinned bitterly. ‘Not that attraction means much in a marriage in Tryum.’
‘You were not one of those susceptible to her charms?’
He swigged from his wine cup. ‘She was a fine lady. No doubt about that. But I’m someone who can spot tactics a mile off.’
‘What kind of tactics?’
‘Plenty of questions tonight.’
‘It’s just about my only annoying habit. So, what tactics?’
Maxant grunted a laugh. ‘The kind she uses in the Senate. To persuade people to back the king’s policies over the years. Licintius will miss not only his sister, but a great ally in that respect. And he knows it, too. She was vital to furthering his ambitions. Many times he’d have trouble getting something passed through the Senate. Lacanta had the ways to nudge an unpopular policy through. Knew how to play the games without anyone knowing she was even in the arena in the first place. I admired that.’
‘A lady of politics,’ I whispered, knowing this complicated matters immensely. There were no longer jealous lovers who might have the urge to kill her, but political rivals as well. The number of motives and suspects grew ever more complex. ‘Do you think it could have been an assassin from a nearby country?’
The general looked surprised at the comment. ‘I am not up to speed with local politics, outside of what letters I’ve read while abroad, so I cannot comment on the tensions between our nations – I am merely a servant of Detrata. As for an assassin? It was certainly a thorough job. But how did they escape a locked room? As soon as you’ve a suspicion, tell me who you think did this. Licintius is like a brother to me. I can’t stand seeing him in such pain. I’ll help you where I can, send my soldiers in to surround a building, whatever it takes, you hear?’