‘Now this is interesting.’ The final book was a volume of plays by the famous, ancient Maristanian writer Locottus, which seemed to fit neatly with the idea that both Lacanta and Licintius were appreciative of the theatre, but it was inscribed to her as ‘a gift from Nucien’. I reached into my pocket and drew out the list of names that Veron had provided. There were only ten names written down and a man called ‘Nucien Malvus’ was one of them.
‘Is it the same one?’ Leana asked.
‘We have a match,’ I replied. ‘It’s about time we made our presence known in the Senate – this will give us some further purpose. While we’re there we can go through as many of the names on Veron’s list without creating a bad name for ourselves as hunters of senators.’
I put the books back and took one more look around before leaving unsatisfied.
I made my formal requests with the staff to visit the Senate building, but it turned out that all the senators had already gone home for the day. Only then did I realize just how much time we’d spent looking in every nook and cranny we could find in Optryx.
Noting that the sun was low in the sky, we hurried home.
On the walk back it seemed right to explain to Leana who I was meeting later, and we briefly discussed what had taken place while Veron dragged me out.
‘You found her then,’ Leana said.
‘I have. I’m not sure what to do though.’
‘I am not,’ Leana continued, ‘the best person to give advice on this subject. She will not distract you from the investigation, I hope?’
‘You know me better than that.’
‘I do. Your people here seem preoccupied with love and sex, as if it is all that matters in the world.’
When we arrived home, a message had been left for me from the pontiff at the Temple of Polla: now that the various rites had been performed on my father’s ashes, they would become my property in the morning, to take to the family mausoleum.
After washing, changing into my smart attire – a deep blue tunic and cloak, my best black trousers – I made myself smell fresh for the evening using what little fragrance was available.
And waited for Titiana to arrive.
Sunset came and there was no sign of her. I paced the hallway, convincing myself that it was stupid to expect anything to happen, that it was ridiculous to even hope for forgiveness. Clearly Titiana had come to her senses. If that was her decision, I could not blame her.
Presently there came a knock at the door and I managed to rush there before Bellona. Titiana stood on the doorstep, a vision worth the journey across the continent. She wore a wonderful cream and red dress, with just one small necklace, nothing flamboyant, and her dark hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. She was a few years older than the figure who had been preserved in my memories, but somehow she seemed to be even more alluring.
‘I was starting to think you wouldn’t arrive,’ I said.
‘I was starting to think I shouldn’t,’ she replied.
‘Yet here you are.’ I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. Now that I knew that she didn’t detest me quite as much as she could have, a sudden awkwardness came over me. Even when imagining this scene from the other side of the continent I hadn’t really planned what we would say or do.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m famished,’ I said. ‘I’ve not been in the city for a long time. Can you recommend a good place to eat?’
A Small, Underground Tavern
We wandered through the backstreets, away from prying eyes. Titiana was, of course, a married woman, so secrecy was essential; I’ll admit that was something of a thrill.
Tryum’s citizens seemed to behave strangely at this hour. Half-veiled figures drifted in and out of doorways, as if on some illicit business. The city changed its texture completely, as if a new cast of characters had been brought on stage. I half-expected Senator Veron to be following in the distance, swigging wine from a cup and cheering me on.
Titiana led me slowly across the neighbourhoods of Polyum, to an establishment she had always wanted to eat at, but could never afford. She told me that, since I was the one paying, she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to eat there.
The tavern was a remarkably charming place, a subterranean establishment built beneath a temple, right on the border with Regallum. Inside there were hundreds of candles, mirrors, ornate coloured glassware, beautifully crafted wooden furniture, with plenty of happy guests drinking and enjoying its relaxing ambience. From its location, and assessing all these fine decorations on display, I had the impression that a lot of senators might dine there, and I could only imagine the kind of deals that had been struck in the alcoves.
We were seated at a table at the far end of the tavern, a small booth tucked away from the hubbub. A jug was brought over by a serving girl and, as she poured wine into two cups, she told us the owner would be with us shortly to talk about tonight’s dishes. The place was heady with the smell of delicious food, the kind that seemed a world away from what I’d happily snacked on in Plutum and Barrantum.
A man at the table beside us, handsome, but dressed in a shabby brown tunic and unshaven, didn’t seem to fit in with the other drinkers and diners. He had by him a small drum and I wondered if he was a busker. He looked up at me and gave a warm and toothy smile.
The tavern owner strode over to welcome us; he was a middle-aged man of ample proportions, dressed in a wonderfully ornate red tunic. From memory, he proceeded to list several of the dishes that were available. I had been used to austere meals in Venyn City and was amazed at the delights on offer, but in the end I opted for the simple spiced fish dish. Titiana said she would have the same, and the tavern owner left us alone. He turned to the table nearby, where the man with the drum was finishing up and they were discussing payment.
Titiana smiled and looked around the tavern, and the lack of conversation between us was not at all awkward. It was as if we were slowly remembering how we used to act together. From the other table I overheard a discussion between the two men. The man with the drum was asking for forgiveness for not being able to produce enough money.
‘My deepest apologies, I assure you,’ the busker said. ‘I have coin at the home where I am staying – it is but a short trip. Please, if I leave this drum here with you, as insurance, I will retrieve it and return.’
‘That instrument?’ the tavern owner asked, dissatisfied with the offer.
‘The drum, yes. It’s very precious to me – it is my employment around the city. Without it, I’m nothing.’
‘All right… But you’ll get back quickly?’
‘Before the night is done I will return,’ the busker urged. ‘I need my drum for tomorrow where I am playing for an important family in Polyum.’
‘Hurry up,’ the owner warned.
‘Of course, of course.’
I turned to watch the tavern owner holding the drum while the shabbily dressed busker headed out of the door. Shaking his head, the owner turned to walk past us.
‘Sir,’ I called, and whispered, ‘that drum in your hand.’
He leaned in closer. ‘This thing?’
‘The man who gave it to you is about to con you,’ I said.
‘Never!’
‘I’m afraid so – it’s a very old trick. He’ll most likely be working with a partner, someone who will be in the tavern tonight, and probably very well dressed. He or she will then tell you that this instrument is worth a great deal of money, that it is a Detratan collectable or something like that, and they’ll then try to convince you to let them buy it off its owner for a large sum.’