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Authors: Mark Charan Newton

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‘And what does your Polla say to that?’ Leana pushed herself back onto her feet with a gentle sigh.

More than your spirits would, I wanted to reply, but calmed myself. Leana was right, of course. Ultimately my actions could wreck another’s home and Polla most definitely would not
approve. Not out of any direct moral judgement – that was not her way – but for the long-term pain it would cause to everyone involved. ‘Did you manage to talk with
her?’

‘Yes. Very pleasant, as I say. Though have you ever asked if it is likely that a woman would be interested in coming all the way across the city on her own merely to fuck?’

‘Leana, please.’

‘Have you asked yourself what she hopes to gain?’

‘We have a complicated past, as you well know,’ I sighed. ‘Anyway, neither of us has anything to gain from this. We never really did – we just . . . I don’t know.
I’m not one for soothsayers and I trust the astrologers as much as I trust politicians, but sometimes it feels as if the gods have brought us together for a reason.’

Leana moved into her stretches. ‘I need to find the city’s gymnasiums.’

‘This house isn’t big enough for your exercises?’

‘I need more. More weights. Competition,’ she replied. ‘You could at least find a few more fights for me.’

‘Be careful what you wish for.’

In the gentle light of dawn, I attended to some brief administrative matters, which involved sending an update to my superiors out of the city. I always preferred to engage in
desk work early on in the morning, when my mind was clear and my attention focused, before the day became too hot to concentrate.

My peace was disturbed by a banging on the door. After Bellona opened it, Senator Veron barged his way through, his face creased in delight.

‘Drakenfeld!’ Veron embraced me like an old friend. I smelled wine on his breath, and marvelled that he had been drinking already – though perhaps he had not stopped drinking
all night.

‘You’re very early.’ I guided him into the study. His step was lively and eager to be somewhere that wasn’t indoors. ‘I wasn’t expecting you until a little
later.’

‘I’m not disturbing you, am I?’ Veron laughed. ‘Because it’s bad luck if I did – I’m here to take you to the Stadium of Lentus.’

‘No, I was only writing letters and doing my administration.’

‘You Sun Chamber types . . .’ Veron slumped on a seat in the corner, prodding the cushioning with admiration. ‘Still, it’s good to see. Nice to know we’re all in
reliable hands.’

‘Did you have a good night?’ I asked.

‘I did. I met up with these two ladies new to the city. Both daughters of diplomats – old enough, in fact, to be my daughters. I impressed them with another fine social display and
we all ended up in bed together. How was your night?’

I didn’t question what his wife might think of the matter, but then again I wasn’t exactly one to offer ethical commentary on marriages. Instead I told him what I’d seen last
night with Maxant’s men and the bloodbath in the courtyard.

‘Yes, I heard about it. Messy business, politics,’ Veron added, as if it was an everyday thing for the city. ‘Any developments with regards to Lacanta’s
murder?’

‘It’s difficult to tell. You will, of course, be told as soon as I know anything.’

A smile grew on his face. ‘And what about that lady of yours, the rather delicious dancer?’

‘I’m enjoying her company when I can.’

‘I knew there was blood in you,’ Veron crowed. ‘I must admit, I was getting worried for a moment. My physician tells me that it can make you ill if you don’t bed others
often enough. It isn’t good for your soul, so the current thinking goes.’

‘That’s your excuse,’ I replied. ‘On a more professional note, I’ve an offer you might be interested in.’

The senator leaned forward and grew very attentive. I explained my thoughts about moving a cohort here and forming a headquarters for a more efficient operation. At the end of my little speech,
Veron nodded and sat back in the chair. He declared that we had a deal. We negotiated a rate of a thousand pecullas a month for usage of my premises, which surprised even me, and he said that we
could start getting things moving this afternoon – perhaps while we were at the races, which seemed a good idea.

‘Though do you really want to share your house with those men?’ Veron ran his hand through his hair. ‘They can be quite . . . Well, you know what the lower classes are like at
times. Vulgar and crude.’

‘I’ve walked the slums of Venyn City for many years, and often chatted in slum taverns with some folk you would consider beneath you. They’re just like you and me, you know;
they just have less coin.’

‘But having them in your own house, Drakenfeld. I mean, really.’ Veron chuckled, shaking his head. ‘You’re a strange figure. Your father didn’t like to associate
with people like that willingly.’

‘He missed out on a good thing,’ I replied.

‘Come on,’ Veron bounded to his feet. ‘If you like the lower classes so much, I’ll take you to somewhere where you can stand with forty thousand of the
buggers.’

Leana, myself and Senator Veron headed up-city, to the famous Stadium of Lentus. On our way we organized for a message to be delivered to Constable Farrum of the Civil Cohorts,
explaining that they could commence moving their materials into specific rooms. I told them that Bellona was in charge of matters while I was out – and that the cohort was to do whatever she
requested. I also managed to send another update to my superiors, too.

Veron spoke of the Stadium of Lentus with an affection not often heard for architecture. There were several such stadiums or hippodromes throughout Vispasia and the Stadium of Lentus was famed
for its Blood Races.

A tide of people surged through the orange, sunlit streets, towards the structure that loomed over much of the city. Approaching it, people would first see a series of wide arches crowning one
enormous side of the structure. The decorative stonework stretched for several hundred feet, before curving at either end. A marvel of modern engineering, there were stone vaults, walls and columns
providing support; and from the top of every arch flew the banner of a black falcon upon yellow.

The stadium had been completed only one year before I left the city. It was a legacy of King Lentus, Licintius’ and Lacanta’s father, but it remained one of the great structures of
Vispasia. Many stood slack-jawed as they stepped up to it, dumbfounded that such a building could stay up without collapsing. I counted myself among those in awe.

As we came closer, the sound of the crowd grew so loud that one could be mistaken for thinking a raging summer storm was approaching. Closer still and in the shadow of the building several
female prostitutes lingered in the smaller alcoves at the base, sashaying and posing for passers-by. One furtive man in a brown tunic began chatting to a woman, before she took his hand and led him
away along the dusty road. Occasionally soldiers might try to steer away such trade, but there was no military in sight just yet, and so the worst the clients would receive was the odd heckle from
passers-by. Veron was cheered by their presence somewhat, declaring it a sign of a thriving economy. As far as such indicators went, I was not convinced.

Veron guided us towards a special entrance to the Stadium of Lentus, an archway covered in wonderful yellow and black tiles. Here stood soldiers from the King’s Legion, their armour
dazzling in the light of the sun, a sharp contrast to the purple cloth beneath. After some brief negotiations from Veron, who the military treated with a great deal of respect, we were ushered
through.

‘I feel vulnerable without a sword,’ Leana said.

‘If you’d brought it along, you’d only be kicked out by the soldiers,’ I replied. ‘Rules are here for a reason.’

‘He’s right,’ Veron declared. ‘The crowds get lively at times – but that just makes things entertaining. The second race in the stadium’s history resulted in
utter carnage between rival supporters. It was no surprise that weapons were soon banned.’

One floor up inside and we discovered dozens of stalls offering drinks, coloured flags, soothsayers offering predictions, and astrologers offering readings of various texts. One woman was
selling doves for blood sacrifices to be used with the various idols beside her, in order that one might influence the outcome of the races. Another, Veron pointed out, was selling curses on
leather tabs – she would apparently do more business later in the day when people were feeling bitter about their faction having lost.

‘A huge amount of business is done on race days,’ Veron declared proudly. ‘I’m a patron of this level. I bought into a scheme when the stadium opened up and a lot of
these traders pay me a monthly fee for pitching here.’

Though there were fewer people here than on the other side, the noise between the floors of the stadium was still intense, as if we were on the inside of a drum.

Leana glanced around cautiously.

‘Do you see trouble?’ I whispered.

She focused her attention on different parts of the crowd. ‘It’s hard to tell if anyone is watching us with so many opportunities to hide, though I thought such things were now
behind us.’

‘And so they should be,’ I replied. ‘I don’t think anyone will start something while we’re with here with Veron.’

We proceeded up another stairway and towards a rectangle of light, which led us into the stadium proper.

Leana was not impressed easily, but the look on her face was one I had never seen before.

‘You Atrewens,’ Veron said, ‘have a wonderful smile.’

‘I still don’t think she’s interested, senator,’ I replied.

‘Well, one must give these things a go . . .’

We stepped out onto one of many tiers that stretched all the way around the stadium. It was an enormous oblong, with a several-hundred-yard straight connecting two perfectly curved ends. Beneath
the upper arches, which were defined against the cloudless sky, tens of thousands of people stood on tiered steps. This was a good proportion of Tryum’s population – and every single
one of them was making a noise. Coloured flags indicated support for the various groups of riders, and drums and horns added to the atmosphere and noise.

‘Drakenfeld, were you here when this was finished?’ Veron called.

‘No, I visited once while it was being built, and I went to the old stadium on several occasions.’

‘Yes – that place was torn down for housing in the end,’ Veron said. ‘Tenement buildings now stand in its place. Mind you, that old thing was quite a death
trap.’

‘You mean the tenement buildings are not?’

‘Admittedly there has been a fire or two over the years. But what about the stadium? How marvellous is this! There’s nothing quite like it in all of Vispasia.’ Veron tilted up
his chin, basking in the atmosphere.

I considered telling him of the hippodrome in Dalta, which was bigger than this, and featured columns made of gold as well as an extendable canvas roof, but it seemed to be splitting hairs.

Veron began discussing the rules of the coming engagement to Leana and I was pleased that she was patient enough with his attempts at charming her. He leaned towards her as he gestured to the
race track below. Throughout the day, he explained, teams of riders would negotiate the track in a figure-of-eight route, making sure to avoid the spiked barriers and barbed poles along the way.
Different races possessed marginally different rules, but essentially riders carried weapons and had to knock their opponents off their horses with the primary aim of finishing the ten circuits
alive. If one came in the top three, a rider became a hero for the day. Whoever finished first, became a legend. Anyone could participate, and citizens, soldiers and madmen signed up throughout the
day entertaining their dreams of race-track fame. To win any of the races was a spectacular feat, though they saved the most gruesome spectacles for the best professionals who came on last.
Successful riders could become celebrities in Tryum, and rather wealthy to boot. For some, it was a career of sorts.

‘Come,’ Veron said, ‘let us head further up, where things are a fraction more civilized.’

Veron promised me that he would point out senators and arrange the introductions for me, and I checked to see that the list of senators I needed to speak to was firmly in my pocket.

Heading towards the senators, we squirmed through the crowds, which continued to flow into the stadium, bringing with them more noise and excitement.

There must have been at least fifty senators standing before us in their fine tunics, their cloaks under one arm, nestled in shade on the one side of the stadium where the sun remained
constantly behind them. I pitied those who stood roasting gently in the heat on the opposite side.

Our position was at one of the curved ends of the track, where a bold black line marked the start and finish of the race. Made of compacted sand the track was lined by yellow wooden poles. The
other end of it was barely discernible, and even what was close enough to observe was almost vanishing in the shimmering heat.

After glancing at some of the faces around us – some of which I knew, some I could recall seeing from my brief walks around the Regallum area – I reached into my pocket to examine
Veron’s list, and scanned down the names.

Nucien Malvus was the one I desired to talk to most, and I enquired with Veron whether or not he was here.

‘Oh yes, he’s here all right,’ Veron said. ‘May I introduce you to him now? I would take great delight in seeing the expression on his face when you arrest
him.’

‘If you feel it necessary,’ I replied. ‘Though I’m not actually going to arrest him – I just want to talk.’

‘It is not necessary, but it would merely be one of life’s little pleasures to see his smug face confronted by an officer of the Sun Chamber. I don’t even care if he’s
involved with Lacanta’s death.’

Veron led the way. We moved past the other senators and their guests, some of them nodding politely to me, some deciding not to meet my eye, and more than one glancing at Leana with disdain.
Veron stopped before a tall, bright-eyed, long-faced and handsome individual who couldn’t have been much older than me. He held himself with great posture, relaxed shoulders, straight back;
he had clearly spent some time in the gymnasium, too. His tunic was cut from a fine green cloth, inlaid with precious stones, and his boots were highly polished. All in all it was far too much for
a day like this, but he didn’t seem in any discomfort.

BOOK: Drakenfeld
12.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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