Licintius nodded as if I had merely confirmed something he already knew. ‘Very good, Drakenfeld.’ He rose and, uncontrollably, I stood to attention.
Licintius paused to regard Leana, who lowered her gaze. ‘You, lady. You rode well in the stadium two days ago, didn’t you?’
Leana inclined her head and replied, ‘I rode for Atrewe. Sir.’
‘You did your country proud. Should you find yourself no longer working for Drakenfeld, you could always make a go of things as a stadium rider.’
With that, he turned his back to us and strode slowly to the door. ‘I want more answers soon, Drakenfeld. I have lost a sister and a general, and someone must suffer for these actions or I’ll hear the reason why not.’
The soldiers followed him out of the room, and that was that.
It was mid-morning by the time we arrived back at my house. I was left with an overwhelming sense of desperation, as always when I was halfway to solving something. One might think that such a stage should generate feelings of optimism, but it did not, especially with the pressure of having to please the king. It didn’t help that I half-suspected the king was involved in some way, and where would that leave me?
A messenger stopped by, covered in dust and sweat, having returned from one of the outposts of the Sun Chamber on the nation’s border.
He left me with a note from my superiors, and I felt an immediate sense of relief. They had received my notification of Maxant’s death and were mustering a small, military cell of fifty soldiers to establish itself outside the city by tomorrow morning at the earliest.
It would be discreet – this would not be a visible warning to the people of Tryum – but it would be there if I needed assistance. Details were provided for how to contact them and where they would be stationed.
I still had the apothecaries to hunt down and so searched for the list of addresses. The vial containing my father’s poison was still safe, and I placed both it and the list in my pockets, before calling Leana.
Another busy day stretched ahead and together we headed through the streets of Tryum.
‘What do you hope to gain?’ Leana asked as we weaved our way through a crowded lane. Merchants were trying to lead their animals through, which caused quite a ruckus, and our progress was slow. ‘You know it is poison, yes?’
‘I need confirmation whether or not my father had acquired the vial himself.’
‘It seems likely though? Also, a poisoner would not leave a vial lying for someone to find.’
‘No,’ I replied, raising my voice above the noise of traders calling out from the nearby stalls. ‘But I need to find out what his final movements were – for my own peace of mind. I still need confirmation of his behaviour. It is important to me.’
‘Has the sudden talk of suicide hurt you?’
‘I just need to settle it.’
The apothecaries were scattered about the city from Regallum to Vellyum, but the first few we tried yielded no luck. Few of them dealt with poisons and not one of them had seen anyone who fitted the description of my father. As we moved from store to store, I began to wonder if my father had not purchased the poison himself but had been killed by someone else. Leana was right in suggesting that the speculation of Maxant’s own death had brought about a sense of shame over my father’s own death. Though Polla did not place as great a value on such things as, say, Trymus or Festonia – in Polla’s eyes there is not a huge amount of difference between the living and the dead anyway – the social stigma of suicide lingered heavily in my mind.
We worked our way down-city, towards the slum districts and the poorer shops. Children ran about in rags, old women sat in the shade of awnings kneading dough, and soothsayers were exchanging glimpses into the future for coin.
‘So many soothsayers in Tryum,’ Leana said.
‘People will resort to anything to make more sense of their own world.’
‘Did you grow up believing nonsense?’
‘No,’ I laughed. ‘In Polla’s writings, she does not agree with such sentiments. Polla requires only that we try to make our own sense of what goes on as best we can, and to put our faith in the unseen forces. I’ll admit desperate times might make me consider such options, but I soon regain my composure.’
Leana grunted, though I could not say whether it was a positive or disapproving noise.
The last apothecary on our list was found next to a ruined temple. Outside, two old men were naked, their bodies covered in lines of red paint, prostrating themselves before a statue of a woman, now and then throwing water and flower petals over their heads. Incense wafted around the streets, mixing with the stench of the sewers.
The shop was large in comparison to the other buildings in this neighbourhood. Inside were stained wooden floors, a low ceiling that looked like it would buckle at any moment, and crates of bottles stacked up precariously against the wall to my right. Herbs covered the walls, papers littered the floor, and there was a sense that the proprietor was about to go on the run. As it happened, he was not – a lean man with the long beard of a prophet stepped forward from a back room, and greeted us with disdain.
‘I’m an officer of the Sun Chamber. I want to ask you a few questions.’
‘Sun what? Means nothing to me,’ he replied with a laugh. ‘That like the army or summat?’
‘Sun Chamber,’ I corrected.
‘If you say so. Anyway, I’m busy.’ His eyes didn’t seem to focus on mine.
Leana stepped forward, unsheathed her sword and pressed the point into the man’s grubby-looking stomach.
‘Go ahead,’ he grunted. ‘It’s not like I’ve got much of a future round here.’
I asked Leana to step back and continued more calmly. ‘I believe my father came here and bought some wares off you.’
‘I don’t do refunds,’ the man replied, casting a suspicious glare in our direction.
‘Look,’ I continued, ‘I just want to know something very simple – whether or not you sold my father poison.’ I gave a description of him and a rough estimate of when my father might have come here.
‘Father, y’ say?’ The man looked me up and down before his eyes settled on my Sun Chamber brooch. ‘Man came in here weeks ago wearing something that looked exactly like that.’ His finger prodded the brooch and I nodded. ‘I ain’t so good with descriptions, lad. My memory ain’t what it used to be. That’s a blessing round these parts. People want to remain unknown – that’s why they come to me and not the fancy places – but I remember a brooch like that all right. He didn’t look much like you though.’
‘Did you sell him this?’ I held up the vial.
The man smirked and shuffled into his back room. A moment later he returned with a box, which he opened to reveal dozens of similar vials.
‘These are mine,’ he replied. ‘I only keep the blue ones for poisons – to keep it separate from the other potions.’
‘So my father did come here.’
The expression on the apothecary’s face relaxed a little. His voice lost its bitter edge. He looked as if he felt sorry for me. ‘I did sell it, yeah. But so what? I sell a lot of poison.’
‘Did he come here asking specifically for this? Did he seem hesitant in any way?’
‘He asked for this one, there was no doubt he knew what it was for. People don’t buy that sort of thing to cure headaches, though it would do the job just as well. I know you’re looking for answers, son, but you’ll not find much. All I can say is that I’ve rarely seen a man so lacking in spirit and vitality. I put it down to age, but when a man buys poison, well… All you know is that someone’s life is going to end, sooner or later.’