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'Do you have any idea what the evidence is? Apart from being the person who handed over the poisoned food?'

Ivaris shakes her head.

'It all came as a terrible shock. I have no idea why anyone would accuse my husband. He cannot possibly have docs such a thing.'

'Your husband spends his life berating the Traditionals. Galwinius was a very important Traditional. They were hardly the best of friends.'

'That is simply the way things are done in the Senate. My husband would never condone any act of violence.'

This isn't true. When the elections come round there's plenty of violence, condoned by anyone who wins votes as a result. I let it pass, but point out that being an opponent of the Consul might easily be enough to land Lodius in serious trouble.

'It wouldn't be the first false accusation of murder made in this city for political ends. I'm suffering a false accusation myself. Which Lodius and his Populares weren't falling over themselves to help me with, now I think about it.'

Ivaris looks upset. I move the conversation on.

'What about this court case? Galwinius was reported to be suing your husband.'

'A dispute over a will,' says Ivaris. 'But I do not know the details.'

I doubt that's true. Ivaris doesn't seem like a woman who's entirely ignorant of her husband's affairs. I let it pass. I can find out the details elsewhere. But already it's obvious that things aren't looking good for Lodius. He's just handed over a poisoned pastry to a man who was about to sue him. A man who was already his enemy.

'Did Cicerius say he'd get me access to your husband?'

'Yes. Can you go immediately? Or rather, as soon as Sabav is over.'

'Pardon?'

'Evening prayers. It's almost time.'

It's a legal requirement for all citizens of Turai to pray three times a day. The more devout among the population go to church, though that's not required by law. Anywhere will do. If I'm in my own room I ignore the call for prayer. Any time I'm unlucky enough to be caught outside I generally just kneel down in the street with the other unfortunates and doze off for a few minutes while they go through their routine. As for Makri, she has no affinity whatsoever with Turanian religious practices and generally makes sure she's well out of sight at prayer times. But now Ivaris is actually offering us the use of her family's prayer temple. I don't want to accept. Suddenly I'm painfully aware that I reek of klee. Though I'm not what you'd call a religious man, you never know. Entering a private chapel while stinking of alcohol might lead to problems. I've often felt I was cursed by the Gods. No point making things worse. I start to make an excuse but Ivaris waves it away. Makri is shuffling round uncomfortably and looks very unhappy about the whole idea. As Ivaris leads us towards the courtyard temple in the centre of the house, Makri whispers in my ear quite urgently.

'Will I have to say anything?'

'No,' I whisper back. 'Just nod at the right places. And don't sing any Orcish hymns or anything.'

'I don't sing Orcish hymns,' hisses Makri. 'I only curse in Orcish.'

'Well don't do that either.'

'Why would I?' says Makri.

'Who knows? I've never understood anything you do.'

Are you accusing me of being an Ore?' demands Makri, quite loudly.

'Not at all.'

'You were implying it.'

'So what?'

Makri looks angry.

'Why don't you just admit you think one day my Ore blood is going to take over and I'll start slaughtering Humans?'

I shake my head.

'You see, Makri, this is why I never bring you on cases. The slightest thing and you start getting upset and waving your swords about.'

'I'm not waving my swords.'

'You're close to it. Just calm down.'

'Calm down?' shouts Makri. 'I'm just minding my own business and you suddenly start accusing me of singing Orcish hymns. I don't know any Orcish hymns. Well, maybe one or two. But that's not the point.'

'Will you stop shouting? I bring you to a Senator's house and you just don't know how to act civilised.'

'Civilised? You're taking this woman's money and you said you hate the Senator and everyone like him, you cusux!'

'You see? Orcish curses just come naturally to you. I knew you couldn't get through Human prayers without reverting to type. We'll be lucky if you don't sacrifice someone.'

Ivaris coughs gently. We turn round to find about twenty or so members of the household looking at us rather nervously. A few of the brawnier servants seem to be preparing to defend their mistress.

'It's time for prayers,' says Ivaris, calmly.

'We're ready' I mutter, and we troop shamefacedly into the courtyard temple.

I can't remember when I was last in a place like this. Probably not since I burgled the Niojan attache's house. It's clean, white and peaceful. Ivy climbs the walls. A wisp of smoke from an incense burner trails lazily towards the sky, just enough to provide a delicate aroma in the open-air space. The evening is still warm. It's so quiet in here you could forget you were in the city. Stick a decent-sized couch down somewhere and it would be the perfect place for an after-dinner sleep.

The family has its own Pontifex to lead them in their prayers, an old, grey-haired man who's probably retired from his official church duties. As he intones the words I have to struggle to stay awake. Kneeling beside me,

Makri is fidgeting. She's probably worried that they might go on for hours. I'm feeling quite peaceful. I forget about the Orcish hordes gathering to attack us. I'm almost sorry when the prayers end.

I haul myself to my feet. The household disperses. Ivaris thanks the Pontifex. Makri backs out of the shrine as quickly as she can but I wait to say a polite farewell to the Senator's wife. I'd like to thank her for inviting us to share the family prayers but I can't quite find the words to do it. I look at her awkwardly.

'I'll clear your husband's name,' I say, eventually, and turn round smartly, picking up Makri on my way to the door. Our landus is waiting outside. Makri complains for a while about my rudeness towards her then falls silent as we continue towards the Abode of Justice. On arrival we're intercepted by Cicerius's assistant Hansius.

'The Deputy Consul has been expecting you.'

We're taken along a corridor and dumped in some sort of waiting room.

'Trouble already,' I mutter to Makri. 'The authorities are not going to like it that I've taken on Lodius as a client.'

I'm already feeling uncomfortable because I know that the decision to prosecute Lodius must have come from the top, which means the Palace. I really could be walking into a lot of trouble here. Damn Lodius's wife for being so polite and hospitable.

Cicerius - thin, grey and even more austere-looking than usual - enters briskly. As ever, he's clad in his green-rimmed toga, the mark of his rank. Our Deputy Consul is an unusual mixture of honesty, hard work, and overwhelming vanity. He's been strutting round all summer trying not to look too pleased at the new statue of himself that's just been erected outside the Senate, 'In appreciation of his sterling service to the city', as the Consul said at the unveiling ceremony. Cicerius, while publicly deploring the use of public funds for such a reason, is in reality as pleased as a man can be. It's rumoured he instigated the campaign to have the statue erected in the first place. On the plinth there's a quotation from one of his speeches: 'The true mark of a man is not what he achieves, but what he strives for.' Good advice, maybe. Cicerius has been striving for that statue for a long time.

'You are investigating on behalf of Senator Lodius?'

I nod. Cicerius looks thoughtful, and remains silent for a long time.

'The King himself has authorised the prosecution/ he says, eventually.

'I imagined that was the case.'

'It means you'll find a lot of difficulties put in your way. The King and Consul Kalius both wish to see justice done swiftly. No official in Turai is going to offer any help.'