The weight of the shoulder bag, which contained the urn, seemed greater with every few yards of travel.
‘This is it,’ I said.
Found by the hill of Four Gods, the Drakenfeld mausoleum was a tiny structure compared to those nearby. Our family was wealthier than most people of Tryum – and I was conscious of my good fortune on this matter – but it was clear that there were a great number of people who were richer than us. This gap was especially obvious when looking at family monuments.
The first Drakenfeld to be buried here was my grandfather, who was the first senator to gain his position based on his exploits as a general in the military, rather than because his fortune was large enough to bribe the right people to prove he was a citizen of good standing. I never knew whether or not he approved of his son, my father, joining the Sun Chamber – the subject wasn’t one that was raised all that much. He built up his wealth yet remained true to his mild-natured and humble roots: this small, domed mausoleum contained just four pillars no taller than me, and a relief of Polla. The elaborate structures either side featured intricate facades and bold architectural statements.
Nearby a few people walked with offerings in their hands through a ruined colonnade, and a family was dining at the foot of one nearby structure, chatting merrily in the sun.
‘What an incredible place.’ Titiana gestured to the row upon row of fascinating monuments surrounding us, each one unique in some way. ‘This really is a whole other city just for the dead. They say on auspicious nights that such places become alive with ghosts, and figures of bone lose themselves in the surrounding hills.’
‘That’s why we make sure to keep the mausoleums locked,’ I said and smiled. ‘I can’t be doing with dead relatives hassling me in my sleep.’
‘I’m serious,’ Titiana said, with the wonder of a much younger woman. ‘All stories have their roots in truth. Besides, I’ve used such tales more than once to make the children behave and go to bed on time.’
We dismounted from the mare and for a moment simply ambled along the path in separate directions, each in our own world of awe and respect. Titiana seemed happy enough so I wandered among the stones noting the family names and trying to recall their position in the city.
Suddenly a figure caught my eye walking among the structures, and following me. He – at least, it was dressed in the clothing of a man – wore a tattered and ripped cloak, but otherwise his tunic seemed fine, if a little colourless. He looked at me, wide holes in place of his eyes; and no sooner had that thought registered, than he turned to flee through a wide avenue of mausoleums. I moved quickly to catch up with him, but could no longer see him.
Senator Divran told me to walk among the tombs and a small part of me wondered if the figure had been her creation. Shaking my head, I retraced my steps – I knew better than to believe in such fantasies.
Titiana was waiting by the mare, but didn’t seem interested in where I’d been – she was too entranced by my family’s mausoleum. I reached into my bag for the urn carrying my father’s ashes, and passed it to Titiana momentarily, before pulling out a heavy key. After unlocking the iron gate, which had rusted somewhat, we stepped into the dark sanctuary of the mausoleum.
I left the key in the lock, out of the way.
After the brightness of the daylight it was difficult to see the details at first, and there was a prevalent musty odour. Beneath our feet was a yellow mosaic floor featuring the two-headed falcon. Alongside it was the icon of the cross of the founding gods, representing where both Trymus and Festonia marked on the ground the very position where Tryum would be built. I searched around for the right spot, slid back a stone cover and placed my father’s ashes down alongside my mother’s.
‘You rarely spoke of your mother,’ Titiana said.
‘I hardly knew her, if I’m honest,’ I replied. ‘She died when I was no more than five summers old. I know far too little about her, because my father didn’t often mention her name. An aunt once told me that it was because he never really let her go after she died. I have memories of her, though, glimpses that come back to me now and then.’
‘What was her name?’
‘Mawya. She came from the deserts – from Locco. People often told me she possessed such beauty that passers-by would stop her in the street to tell her so. I think people’s memories can be kinder than the reality, but I’m reassured she was kind and gentle-natured, and always thought the best of people no matter how they treated others. I vaguely remembered her singing songs of the desert to me but… well, after that my upbringing was with my brother and my father.’
‘That would explain your inability to talk plainly with women,’ Titiana joked, and I was glad of her lightening the mood. ‘Will you be buried here one day? That must be a sobering thought.’
‘So long as there is someone here to remember to bury me – and someone who can be bothered to bring my ashes all the way up that hill, then yes.’ Solemnly, I drew back the heavy stone lid and set it in place with a clunk.
We stepped outside into the daylight once again. With my mind somewhat exhausted by now, I lay down in the long grass with a sigh, regarded the pearlescent blue sky and enjoyed the warmth. The leaves and branches of a nearby tree stirred in the soothing breeze. Titiana lay down next to me, resting her head against my shoulder, her sweet floral fragrance drifting over me.
I wanted never to rise from that spot.
When the sun reached its zenith I felt it was time to return to Tryum. I decided to take one last look at the mausoleum to preserve the image in my mind, as I did not know when I would return, but then realized the key was still in the lock with the metal gate closed. It hadn’t locked – of course it wouldn’t, because the key had not been turned – but for a moment it looked as if the ghost of my ancestors had placed the key there.
Placed the key.
Of course.
A Bloody Business
We strolled down the gentle slope towards the horse. The city stood before us and, from here, we could clearly see the clash of architecture of new and old, the harsh contrast between itself and the farmland surrounding it; and the river that stretched out towards the sea a mile or so beyond. On a day like today, I wished to immerse myself within that deep blue liquid.
‘How is your investigation going?’ Titiana asked.
‘I’m afraid I’m not able to talk much about it,’ I replied.
‘I see. Lucan Drakenfeld, keeper of state secrets.’ Titiana laughed warmly.
‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s more for your own protection. The fewer people who know about my life, the fewer lives are in danger. I wouldn’t want you to lose any sleep because of something I said.’
‘I’m not afraid.’ Titiana linked her arm through mine, and I missed a breath feeling her skin brush against my wrist. ‘Besides, the whole city is talking about it. Rumours in the markets suggest all sorts of fanciful possibilities. I’ve heard priests say that the spirits of former Detratan emperors were responsible because they disapprove of the newer royals.’