‘Do you think I would enjoy the night if she did? Exactly. But it was one of those nights where it was important to be seen. A man of your status must know what it’s like.’
‘I do, yes. But whoever killed Lacanta certainly seemed to select a very public day for the occasion – almost as if the murderer intended the death to be witnessed by so many people, wouldn’t you say?’
‘I don’t know because I’m not a murderer, Drakenfeld. Does it matter what they intended? Lacanta is dead. Gone. Contactable only through my prayers and offerings, and even then I’ll receive nothing in the way of reply.’
‘She may hear your prayers, though.’
‘I doubt my faith in Trymus on occasion. The number of hours I’ve spent on my knees before one of his statues is great, but what good has it done me? I paid for astrologers and the city’s finest soothsayers to help me speak with gods or to gain the hand of Lacanta, but it’s been of little use.’
‘Do you believe in such things?’
‘Ordinarily, I would not. The gods are like parents to us, nurturing, to be respected – we bring them into our households to improve our behaviour. But on occasion one’s mind needs more to cope with it all. I don’t think it’s a bad thing to admit that.’
A boy ran in front of us carrying a headless dove by its feet, leaving a trail of blood; he called for his father to make an offering to Trymus before the races began, and his father happily indulged his son’s eagerness.
Smiling, I turned back to Malvus. ‘You inscribed a book of Locottus’ plays to her. I could never get to grips with his style personally. Did you enjoy the theatre together?’
Malvus seemed less hostile to this question. ‘Yes – she loved his plays dearly. She enjoyed the theatre every bit as much as her brother did.’
‘Did she associate with actors in her personal time… Outside of Regallum?’
He cast me a sly glance, uncertain how to continue.
‘I’ve heard of her brother’s admiration for the company of actors,’ I said, not even knowing for certain whether it was true, but it was worth a go.
‘I don’t know how you found out, but no, she did not do that herself. I didn’t even know Licintius behaved like that until, once, I discovered Lacanta covering up for his disappearance. It is something that would be frowned upon by many in the Senate, though I rather like the idea of a king cavorting with actors down-city. Licintius is a humble and good man, deep down. The theatre was an escape for both of them from the pressures of office. Besides, actors are rightly feared by senators.’
‘How so?’
‘They can control the emotions of a crowd. That’s something to create envy in any politician. Now, please, are there any further questions? I would like to be back before the races commence.’
‘Indeed, you’re free to return whenever you want,’ I said. ‘We’re just… having a conversation.’
‘I’m sorry if I’ve been short with you. This has not been easy for me. I loved her, in my own way, but I’m not able to mourn publicly. I must deal with matters with a stone heart.’
‘I understand.’
Nucien Malvus walked back towards the noise and light. At least now I knew Clydia, the young actress, had not been lying about the king. It meant she might also have been telling the truth about Drullus, too.
‘Lucan.’ Leana stepped alongside me. ‘Do not turn around. We have people following us. We should get back up to Senator Veron.’
‘OK,’ I said and headed towards the outside. ‘Who’s following?’
‘These men seem of more skill than before. Turning, watching, turning again, standing by stalls also. They are moving to keep pace, then stopping suddenly.’
‘What do they look like?’
‘Heavy. Possibly ex-soldiers. Clean uniform and they can afford good boots. They are much more professional than the previous types. I cannot be sure, but I would not be surprised if they are hiding weapons.’
‘Do you think they could be Maxant’s men?’
‘I do not recognize any of them from the incident in the courtyard,’ Leana said.
‘Well, we have new friends, in that case,’ I declared.
We took our position alongside Veron, who was only briefly interested in how things had gone with Malvus because down below some sort of ceremony was starting.
In long white robes, dozens of priests and priestesses of Trymus formed an avenue, which extended from a small gateway just out of sight from where we were standing, right down by the track.
The tone of the crowd had changed to something significantly more solemn, most people barely uttering a word.
Between the priests and priestesses, a line of figures emerged in a profoundly slow march. King Licintius led the procession; those behind him were carrying on their shoulders a platform, and on that lay the body of Lacanta, wrapped in a crimson sheet, her face painted red, her oiled hair dangling down over the edges. A priest swung an incense burner beside her body and there were dancers in blood-coloured gowns dancing around her, twirling little arcs of cloth through the air as they spun their arms.
Following this came General Maxant and his soldiers, who took the same measured paces in a column four men wide. The soldiers took a different direction at the end of the avenue of priests and priestesses, and headed towards the centre of the track.
A low-level murmur rippled around the stadium as the people looked on. Lacanta’s body was placed on the ground while the dancers frolicked around it, making beautiful shapes with their bodies, and the king stood by watching their rituals. Soldiers packed themselves in, hundreds of troops who had served Maxant and brought glory on the city. But this was not the glory they expected; this was very much about mourning Lacanta’s death.
People among the crowd were sobbing, one woman nearby wailing out loud. Even the senators seemed to be stifling tears. Lacanta had clearly meant a lot to these people and I vowed once again, under the gaze of Trymus, that I would help her soul to rest easily.
I sympathized greatly with King Licintius. I knew what it was like to mourn a loved one; it must have been far more difficult to grieve in front of tens of thousands of people. And from what I had so far gathered, he was losing a great confidante as well as a sister. Despite a good proportion of the city mourning here alongside him, he must have felt very lonely indeed.
She’ll Ride
After the ceremony, Lacanta’s body was removed from the stadium. I remembered the king saying to me that there would be a private ceremony for her, so presumably that would not happen until later. Licintius was sitting nearby, only twenty feet away beyond the senators, in an enclosed booth lined with bright yellow cloth. Attendants stood around him, hesitant and nervous. Beside him, having brought new lands to Vispasia, the glorious General Maxant sat stern-faced, absorbing the attentions with a cool, impassive demeanour.
The noise had returned to the same ferocious timbre of before. Criers, who walked the rim of the dust track with all the swagger of prostitutes, announced the races. While the build-up continued, I contemplated the rest of the senators. Veron told me there would be a small interval between races and the day’s events would continue until sunset. Five more senators from his list were present today, and there was plenty of time to question them, so we nestled right in their midst, as I was eager not to be regarded as an outside threat.
The first race began. Fourteen figures on horseback rode out into the stadium to deafening cheers. Coloured banners were waved more wildly than before; they corresponded to the coloured vests the riders wore above their breastplates. The riders did not just wear vests, however – they carried weapons, spears mainly, but a few with swords or maces. Each wore a helmet, but apart from that, there seemed little in the way of protection. This was their moment of glory and, no doubt, a moment of dread too. They each seemed to handle it in different ways, some waving, some beating the metal of their armour with the flat of their swords, others quietly absorbing the scene.