Drakenfeld (17 page)

‘What . . . you wanna know?’ he spluttered.

‘The name of your employer,’ I urged. ‘The person who sent you three to the gates of my house last night.’

He looked from me, to the blade, to Leana, and then back to me again.

‘You’d be doing me a favour,’ I continued. ‘Farrum here has a good house, a good family, and they don’t need to see me clean away so much blood just after
breakfast.’

He nodded. ‘Don’t get paid enough for that,’ he said. ‘Top boss, his name is Veldrum Hecater.’

‘Excellent, and what does Veldrum Hecater want?’

‘Money. Money that he’s owed. That’s all.’

‘From whom?’ I asked.

‘Calludian Drakenfeld.’

‘Why?’

‘How should I know?’

‘Where can we find Veldrum Hecater?’

‘He’s got a large house. Along the border of Vellyum and Plutum. Near to the Seventh Temple of Malax.’

I stood up and Farrum nodded to me. ‘All right. You’ve been very helpful.’ I nodded to Leana who threw him back into the pit, and he landed in the darkness with a grunt.

Veldrum Hecater? Who in Polla’s name was Veldrum Hecater?

Constable Farrum locked the door and gave me a look of admiration. ‘What shall I do with them, sir? Do you wish to bring about a private prosecution? It’d be a pleasure to arrange
that with the courts in your honour.’

More figures would come after me if these were brought to the courts. The only way to stop them would be to get to the source of the debts. ‘No, not this time. I’m happy for you to
let them go, one by one, but don’t cut their restraints. They’re not a threat to us, but they need to leave here thoroughly humbled.’

‘Right you are,’ Farrum replied.

‘I’m interested in this Veldrum Hecater – what can you tell me about him?’

‘I’ve not come across him personally, I’ll admit, but I’ve heard tell his legitimate trade is as a moneylender. Course, that don’t necessarily mean he’s not
got an illegitimate trade on the go as well.’

A moneylender? As I knew him, it was improbable that my father would have needed the services of a moneylender. But even in death he had already started to surprise me.

I knew better than to let personal matters interfere with my professional schedule, but even so, on the way back from exploring the addresses of the Skull and Jasmine troupe in
Plutum, my destination was Veldrum Hecater’s residence.

The frustration of this case was starting to burn me up inside – there were too few clues, too many potential suspects, though little reliable motive. And from my dealings with royals and
well-to-do folk, they tended to want things to be resolved as quickly as possible. Given that no one had anything significant to say about Lacanta’s death that night, it really was time to
start eliminating some of the many possibilities and to narrow down my focus.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

Since it remained difficult to discern just how the murder was carried out, all I had to go on were the suspicions and suppositions of others.

But perhaps the actors had seen something.

‘You know the way, I take it?’ Leana asked.

‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘Well, nearly.’

‘Not one bit.’ Leana smiled.

‘Roughly. Finding one’s way around Tryum is not always easy, even having grown up in the city.’

When Tryum was a dominant player in the city states of the Detratan Empire, two hundred years ago, it not only expanded through architectural ingenuity, but the military pillaged other nations,
bringing back their structures, their essence and, most of all, their treasures.

As a result, parts of the city were a mishmash of stolen cultures, thrown up in quick succession during the years of expansion – and, it has to be said, without much consideration for city
planning. Over several decades, Tryum became a mess of streets. The city’s royals, in the more logical districts of Regallum, Polyum and Tradum – and to an extent Vellyum – tended
to demolish anything that didn’t please their eye, and permitted architects and businessmen to step in to fill the gap with something altogether more satisfactory. The problems became more
apparent when it was realized that different rulers had radically differing tastes – so schemes were cancelled and new designs requested. It also meant that these days tourists never
understood the nuances of the streets, and could often be found stumbling down an alleyway in a dangerous neighbourhood, never to be seen again.

With more luck than judgement on my part, we managed to find our way quickly into Plutum, one of the two poorest regions of Tryum.

The buildings here were taller, closer together, and constructed with little care for safety. It was often said that people should walk in the middle of the street in case crumbling masonry or
decaying roof tiles fell down on top of them. It had been known to happen.

Streets became narrower, more illogical in their direction and filled with even more people. Those caught up within the traffic were noticeably poorer, their clothes more austere: ripped
trousers, no shoes or boots in some cases, grubby tunics, and there was not a single piece of metallic jewellery on display.

Carts rolled by carrying meagre supplies of grain; amphorae were being filled with water at a fountain; prostitutes stood chewing tree gum in open doorways, idly regarding the street beyond. The
graffiti above the head of one lady – featuring the addition of a large phallus, I should add – suggested that one could indulge in all sorts of activities within the room behind
her.

Here were merchants, coppersmiths, blacksmiths, a vegetable store, which couldn’t have been doing much trade situated right in the middle of the pervading stench from the sewers. Beggars
drifted towards us with outstretched hands, pleading in a variety of dialects. Leana unsheathed her blade in a display that made them step away.

‘It’s all right,’ I cautioned. ‘They’ll give us no trouble – the gods have been unkind enough to them as it is without us creating a scene.’

I felt the gazes of unseen people, each one observing our steady progress through the streets. People wore a nervousness, and continued on their business with a discreet urgency. Many clearly
didn’t want to hang around for longer than they had to, in order to get their daily shopping or to travel elsewhere. The lower regions of the city were not places to stay unless you were
unfortunate enough to have no other choice.

‘It does not seem the type of place for kings to visit,’ Leana said.

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I said. ‘Though this place could provide good lodgings for actors, I wonder how it happened that people from here managed to work their way up
into Optryx?’

‘Is society split in Tryum, so that rich and poor must not live together?’

‘It’s like that throughout most of Vispasia,’ I replied. ‘Wherever one finds cities, one finds divisions forming.’

Walking in the midday heat through the dusty streets, I unfolded the paper that Senator Veron had given me, containing the address of the Skull and Jasmine theatre company – but there
seemed little hope of me finding the exact spot. Addresses in this part of the city tended to be based on descriptions of how to get somewhere, but even with this it seemed unlikely we’d
actually find the place.

We passed a tavern situated roughly in the right area, surrounded by tenement housing. Its sign had long since faded, as had the colour of its wooden doors, and there were two rusting braziers
on each side.

‘Your buildings are so tall,’ Leana said.

‘Walls were built to mark the limit of growth. The only way to build now is up.’

We stepped under the green awning into the darkness inside. It took a moment for my eyes to become accustomed to the lack of light, but at least it was much cooler here. The ceiling was wooden,
supported by several thick beams, the floor made from large stone tiles, and there was a hearth at the far end.

A gang of young and old men sat playing dice in the corner to our left, with a pile of coins about the value of five pecullas before them. There were a couple of business deals going on to our
right, judging by the ledger book, and next to them sat what looked like a foreign priest, naked from the waist up, gorging himself on a loaf of bread. I smelled cooked food and bad wine. A few
shafts of sunlight worked their way through from the shutters behind, but otherwise the place was lit by candles on the tables. Everything about the place said it was a fire hazard.

All in all, there wasn’t much of a refined atmosphere to be found here.

‘Reminds me of Venyn,’ Leana observed. ‘I bet more than a few nights here have ended in blood being spilt.’

‘Hey!’ shouted a man serving wine to a customer, ‘this is my tavern you’re talking about.’ He was a bearded, skinny fellow in his late forties, and wore a
loose-fitting pale shirt covered in stains.

‘Do you own this place?’ I asked.

‘I lease it. But I consider it mine, yeah. Who’re you?’

I stepped nearer, showing my golden brooch. ‘My name is Lucan Drakenfeld, officer of the Sun Chamber.’

He frowned as if trying to remember the name, then his composure fell away completely. ‘Oh no, we don’t . . . look, this may not be the finest of places, but I pay all my bills on
time and we don’t get anywhere near as much trouble as we used to.’

‘Relax,’ I said. ‘I’m not here because of you. I need your help in finding an address.’

‘Yes . . . Of course. Though it might be easier if you gave me a name – addresses change with the winds in Plutum.’ He laughed awkwardly. Everything about his posture suggested
that events occurred here that were not fully within the limits of the law.

‘I’m not seeking an individual. I’m looking for the residence of people from the Skull and Jasmine theatre company.’

He looked quickly to those behind me. I made a hand signal to Leana to be on her guard.

‘Skull and Jasmine, you say?’ the man repeated.

‘If you’re about to warn any members of your establishment behind my back to attack us, I can assure you the matter will be dealt with quickly and that one of the more careless Sun
Chamber torturers will have the chance to practise their craft on you. Am I clear?’

The tavern manager simply shook his head. Nothing was said for a moment, and in that silence rats could be heard scurrying across the stone tiles. The gang members by the entrance all took their
seats again and began staring into their drinks as if nothing had ever happened. Meanwhile the sweaty priest just kept on filling his mouth with bread.

‘Good,’ I said, and regarded the manager once again. ‘Now why would you have us threatened?’

‘They’re protection, that’s all,’ he said, his voice almost faltering on every word. ‘We gotta look after ourselves down this way. Nothin’
personal.’

‘I think I see,’ I said. ‘You’ve paid protection money for them to keep your place in order? More fool you if you want to get into that business, friend.’

‘What choice does someone like me have with the gangs?’ he whispered. ‘Those senators let them run these districts to keep the peace. It might be all right for someone like
you, with your connections, but I have to make do with them.’

I shrugged. ‘Now, please, it seems you’ve heard of the Skull and Jasmine troupe. Tell me more. I’m particularly keen to know their recent movements.’

He sighed and drew a chair up to one of his round tables. Leana and I remained standing – I didn’t have any intention of remaining there for longer than I had to.

‘Actors is actors,’ he sighed and spread his hands out on the table. ‘Weird bunch at the best of times. Can’t understand any of the fancy Detratan-style shows that you
often see. You know, real culture lovers’ stuff. But the Skull and Jasmine’s more popular with the public you see – they do things involving recent happenings, and the likes. You
know, they do plays of local news or gossip, that sort of thing. I like them stories – real easy to understand.’

‘Have you seen many of their performances?’ I asked.

‘Couple. There’s a tiny amphitheatre only a few streets away. A lot of the travelling performers go there before they perform in the likes of Polyum and Regallum. Keeps them in touch
with the common folk, they say, but I’m sure that’s because it’s cheaper to drink and bed someone around here, heh!’

‘Has there been any behaviour that you might think was odd, or out of character?’

‘You tell me what’s odd for the likes of them!’ He started laughing but when he saw how serious I looked he began to concentrate. ‘Well, it’s funny you say this
about their behaviour. As a matter of fact, there’s been all sorts of gossip in here. Weeks ago one of them, so I’ve heard tell, was spreading gossip of how he was all intimate with
King Licintius. Tell you what, that’d explain why at his age Licintius ain’t found a wife.’

It was common knowledge that Licintius had quickly divorced his first wife many years ago after she had an affair. Would he be the sort to turn to the affections of an actor? It seemed unlikely
– though not improbable. There had been more eccentric royals in the past, but one didn’t often see them mix with the lower classes.