Drakenfeld

Veron’s Party

They were waiting for us in the shadows, three men wearing hooded tunics and cheap sandals. I couldn’t tell much about them from their faces, but they were soon crowding around us, steering us back against the red wall surrounding my property. Leana had her short sword in her hand before I even thought to draw mine.

Leana crouched, grabbed some dust from the ground and flung it into the nearest assailant’s face before striking the man next to him with her blade, drawing blood. She then turned her attention to the first man, who was still wiping his eyes, and jabbed the blade into his thigh. Screaming, he crumpled to the ground clutching his leg. I went for the man Leana had injured, making a few lazy jabs and eventually managed to knock his blade to one side. I punched him in the centre of his face, feeling his nose crunch. He, too, fell to the ground; I smacked him over the back of his head with the pommel of my sword and then he lay still.

The other grounded attacker received the same treatment while Leana dealt with the final standing assailant, who seemed more skilled in the arts of violence. Never wanting to miss any action, a small crowd had gathered to watch, cheering Leana on. Realizing this she delighted in making some utterly unnecessary show moves, delivering rapid punches to her opponent’s face and stomach and kicks to the side of his leg.

While she revelled in what she did best, I called for someone in the crowd to bring some rope. After being handed some I quickly tied the others’ hands behind their backs. Leana finally finished, much to the admiration and cheers of the locals. I tied up the last of them, and lined up the three attackers side by side outside my front gates.

‘You were slow,’ Leana declared, out of breath but with a grin on her face. ‘Bellona’s cooking will only make you worse.’

‘I’m out of practice, that’s all,’ I said.

They were poor, not particularly well-nourished men – clearly the bottom of the chain, as far as I was concerned. Perhaps their employers would seek me out in other, gentler ways. I sent for the Civil Cohorts to come and clean up.

Constable Farrum arrived on the scene quickly, in his silver sash and brown tunic. I noticed crumbs in his beard.

‘Sorry if I disturbed your meal,’ I said, and he started to brush out the crumbs. I told him what had happened, pointed out the crowd of witnesses, and asked him to identify who these men were and what they were doing here.

He seemed nervous and excited as he checked a few trivial details with me, before calling out to some of his own men. A handcart lumbered forwards and the attackers were hauled up on board, still unconscious, before being taken away. There were very few gaols in Tryum – it seemed that the city didn’t consider dedicating resources to prisoners particularly worthwhile when matters could be dealt with privately, but I instructed Farrum I’d pay him for his troubles.

‘Every other day we found a fight in Venyn City,’ Leana commented. ‘I am surprised just how quickly we got into it in Tryum. You told me this was the most civilized city in the Vispasian Royal Union.’

‘It is,’ I replied.

‘It seems much like others,’ Leana said, ‘if you ask me.’

It was dark now and, though keeping time in Tryum was a loose concept, we hurried because we did not want to appear too rude to our host.

‘I am… nervous,’ Leana admitted.

‘You just won a fight with three men and now you’re nervous?’

‘Spirits save me, you are not helping my mood.’

‘You’ll be fine. It’s just a party.’ I laughed. It seemed absurd that Leana could be intimidated by the grand approach to Senator Veron’s mansion and yet easily handle herself when threatened.

‘Easy for you to say. You live and breathe such social circles. Me, I belong with ordinary people.’

‘I enjoy being with people from all walks of life.’

‘So you like to think,’ she replied. ‘You were born into this higher life. Me, I must keep silent when they talk to me, lest I betray my background.’

‘Let their words wash over you. Most of it is a lot of pretentious nonsense. Anyway, you’ve not met them yet – you might decide you like them.’

‘Just why must we go to this stupid thing?’

‘For work and for pleasure,’ I replied. ‘Many of the highest levels of Tryum society will be gathering under one roof. There’s every chance one of them will be able to tell us something about the murder, or at the very least open up some useful routes of enquiry. It’s why we should be glad that Veron has welcomed us into his social circle – that man is giving us quick access to the great and good of Tryum, whether or not he realizes it.’

Two heavily built servants admitted us into Veron’s wonderful rectangular garden, which was rich and sensuous, filled with wide-leaf plants that weren’t domestic varieties. A dozen scents were being emptied into the evening sky, jasmine, marjoram… smells that blended with cooking aromas coming from the house. From inside came laughter and gentle music from a lyre. It seemed ridiculous that a house could be so big in Tryum: built on one level, it was set back from the streets, and designed in the city’s typical style, with regular columns, a symmetrical facade, decorated with thin lines of painted details, but it was too dark to perceive the full array of colours.

Cressets burned outside and above the entrance way, bright yellow beacons against the indigo sky. There were braziers lit amidst the foliage throughout the garden, encouraging exploration and secret conversations in the half-light.

We were welcomed by two more of Veron’s serving staff, each garbed in a rich silk tunic, before the senator himself came forward to greet us.

‘Ah, Drakenfeld! And… Leana, isn’t it?’

She nodded.

‘Thank Trymus you’re here, Drakenfeld,’ Veron said, his annoyance plain to see. ‘Ever since General Maxant arrived he’s been boasting of his bloody conquests. We need some intellectual stimulation. Quote a philosopher or two. Make something up about the stars. Anything to redirect the conversation away from savage topics.’

‘I’ll see what we can do,’ I replied.

There were at least three dozen people scattered around Veron’s mansion, many of whom I recognized from the night at Optryx. People were gathered in their fineries, in gold-trimmed cloaks, plush tunics, beautiful dresses and necklaces. Faces soon turned to regard us as we mingled. I noticed how the walls of Veron’s house were well painted, with scenes of cities from the myths, where the gods dwelled. Mosaics were many coloured, the lanterns crafted from bronze. It was clear that Senator Veron had great personal wealth and I wondered idly where it came from. Incense mixed with the scent of spiced meats, which were carried about on trays by attentive servants. General Maxant was there, dressed in his military finery and his deep-red cloak, accompanied by two women who appeared to be in awe as he spoke to them.

Veron pointed out one man, dressed unusually in crimson breeches and a bold red tunic, with all sorts of delicate decorative details, as Cettrus the Red, one of the riders from the Blood Races. ‘Now I know people will frown on us cavorting with people so far down the social scale,’ Veron said, ‘but the riders are popular men. It adds a little excitement to proceedings – not to mention making me seem an eccentric host.’

‘Is your wife here?’ I asked.

‘Atrella? No, no – she’s away on business. She’s left me with the much harder job of entertaining this lot. Did you meet Senator Divran, by the way?’

‘I did, yes.’

‘Doesn’t she send a shiver down one’s spine? Did she do it then – murder Lacanta?’

‘No. I don’t think so. Do you know how Divran’s husband died?’

‘Oh yes, quite a scene – not to mention a mess.’ Very briefly, Veron confirmed Divran’s descriptions to be accurate, though he added his own particular sense of colour.

There was a strange hush as we were guided through the house, many people stopping their conversations and openly staring at us. I could feel Leana tense at my side.

Veron clapped his hands for the lyre player to cease.

‘Please,’ I whispered, ‘no need for formalities on my account.’

‘Nonsense!’ Senator Veron announced me with my full title, as the new officer of the Sun Chamber for Tryum, son of Calludian, and assigned to investigate the murder of Lacanta. He then introduced Leana as my assistant and gave a brief version of how we met. ‘We will expect more details of such a story tonight!’ he finished, then turned to me as the chatter rose again, and spoke slyly. ‘You’re not wedded in any way, you two?’

‘No,’ I confirmed quickly, as I noted the outrage in Leana’s face.

‘Good,’ Veron replied. ‘There are several women here who have been dying to get their hands on you.’

‘Oh, I’m not really looking—’

‘No one ever looks,’ Veron said, ‘but if the gods decide it’s the right moment, there is no need to fight against their cosmic will.’

As Leana smirked at my discomfort, Veron steered two young women into view, one a black-haired lady with olive skin and wearing a green dress, the other with lighter hair, yet piercing blue eyes, and wearing an outfit that matched them. The women immediately began talking to me – or rather, talking at me. This had not been my plan for tonight: I did not come here to seek a bride, but answers. Yet they did seem rather charming…

I felt a sharp nudge in my ribs from Leana and a look that told me I’d better not be distracted from the case or abandon her to these people, but before she could glare at me too long, Leana was then guided towards one of the trays of food by another guest.

It turned out the women Veron forced upon me, Aemilia and Messalina, were wealthy daughters of senators and lining themselves up for the Senate one day. They seemed pleasant company, but I could tell they were more interested in my position within the Sun Chamber than me personally. There was a wide-eyed look about them that made me feel as if I was just another rung on a social ladder.

When they said they were at Optryx the previous night I steered the conversation immediately to the murder. They had both been disturbed by the events. I asked them if they knew Lacanta in person and, as predicted, they replied in less than favourable terms about her behaviour in the company of men.

‘She liked to break hearts,’ Aemilia confided. ‘It could have been any one of fifty men who killed her – and any one of fifty women, for that matter. Though most likely it was someone using illicit magic. It could quite easily have been some servant hiring a soothsayer or curse-trader, someone who has nothing better to do than dredge up discredited gods. Disgusting.’

‘Why do you say it was magic?’ I asked.

‘Illegal cults,’ Messalina replied, and leaned in as if we were conspiring. ‘I’ve heard tell that such cults brought a farmer back from the dead – from the very hands of the gods, wouldn’t you know? It just isn’t right, if you ask me.’

‘You’ve heard tell,’ I said.

‘You don’t seem convinced?’ she asked. ‘Oh I know, I know. I’ve met people like you before, people who don’t believe in the other realms.’

‘Though I admit my job can make me question matters too much, I believe there are many mysteries,’ I replied. ‘But in my goddess’s writings, we tend to apply logic first and foremost. Only then can we begin to delve deeper into the unexplained – once reasoning has been ruled out. It is how she differs from, say, Trymus, whose followers deal mainly in faith first, questions later – if at all. That is why she remains the only god associated with the Sun Chamber.’

‘Be careful,’ Aemilia said, stepping back from me as if I’d been cursed. ‘It is simply not wise to speak ill of the gods.’

‘I respect everyone’s faith and everyone’s gods,’ I said. ‘We live in a cruel world, so if people can find comfort, so be it. Trying to play gods, though… that’s something else entirely.’

‘Well, you might rule out magic, but who are you to say it doesn’t go on?’ Messalina asked. ‘And it seems that Lacanta associated herself with such dark arts, given the number of marriages she ruined.’

I still could not match these descriptions of Lacanta’s public life with her more austere, private chamber. It was as if she had been putting on a show – but why would that be?

‘Was she ever caught in the act with anyone?’ I asked.

‘Oh no. Never. She was too cautious for that.’

I asked for names of those individuals with whom Lacanta was most intimate, but the ladies could only provide gossip and rumour based on lingering glances and suggested dalliances – none of which could provide the foundations of a solid investigation.

In the corner of the room, Leana was involved in a conversation with Veron and a crowd of guests. ‘I should really see if my assistant is coping.’

‘We saw she came with you. Are you comfortable doing business with something like that?’

‘Like what?’ I demanded, noting how they viewed Leana with some disdain.

‘Oh, you know.’

Indeed, I knew. Making my excuses to the two ladies, I walked across there, just in time to hear Leana finishing her account of how we met.

‘How extraordinary,’ one of the older men wheezed, captivated by the tale.

Veron was looking at Leana with more than a hint of lust. I felt on my guard – not that he would harm Leana, but that she might harm him.

‘Wonderful accent, isn’t it, Drakenfeld,’ Veron said, catching my eye. ‘The way the vowels are extended, that each word is pronounced with consideration. I know you taught her Detratan, but what does she speak usually?’

‘Sarcasm, for the most part,’ I replied. ‘No, she speaks our own tongue – at her own insistence, as well as our convenience – but she’s been known to curse me in Atrewen from time to time. I think she’s reached a good level of Detratan. She’s even schooled me in Atrewen, though I’m not sure she’s taught me how to swear. She saves such choice words for herself.’

‘It’s all so fascinating,’ Veron replied. ‘Now, I think it’s time you told these people some proper tales from the road. We long to know of the wider Vispasia. I long to know of anything from beyond the Senate building. What wonders have you seen?’

Though I was not looking forward to discussions with Veron’s guests, I did not exactly dislike being surrounded by people eager for me to speak. I had been schooled well from a young age in rhetoric – as was essential for all of us in the legal profession – and it was not just a boon in the law courts. People loved a good story.

‘I once met the Gold Queen,’ I began, to audible gasps. ‘It was deep in the heart of Dalta, a nation where women have far greater rights and privileges than men.’

‘Nonsense,’ a man said.

‘It’s true. As a man it makes me really understand the position of women in our own nations – having experienced the opposite. The Gold Queen is the heart and soul of the Vispasian Royal Union, with much of the mineral wealth – and she knows it. She’s more arrogant than any king, and more beguiling than any lady I have set eyes upon. She dresses in nothing but gold-coloured cloth, and her body is weighed down by her excessive jewellery so that she rarely leaves her immense bedchamber. She sleeps there, eats there, bathes there, and dictates the entire business of Dalta from a horizontal position.’ I smiled at one of the more prudish-looking ladies nearby. ‘She experiences a lot of her pleasure at the same angle. When she needs to inspect the provinces of her country, to check on local officials and accountants, a good number of slaves carry her there on her golden bed.’

‘Were you on a case when you saw her?’ a woman asked. I took her to be a senator, too, judging by her stately clothing.

‘Did you see her in her bed?’

‘Was she clothed?’

I smiled at this bombardment of questions. ‘I like to think she took a shine to me, but as for the rest, I’m afraid I’m not allowed to say…’

I repeated similar pieces of information – how I saved Prince Bassim from an assassination attempt in Venyn City, of the Ziggurats of Locco, the Skeleton Prince of Gippoli – pausing in all the right places, allowing for natural drama to fill the gaps in what I had to say, leaving them waiting on key moments so that they would remain interested, and trying my best to recall my rhetorical training. This was, after all, partly why Veron wanted me here, so I did not wish to let him down after he had been so kind to me during my return. Even Cettrus the Red seemed impressed, though he did not speak to me.

They were most impressed by my having travelled to Free State, a neutral yet heavily fortified territory; there once a year, within a sprawling village comprised largely of temples, all the kings and queens of the Vispasian Royal Union gathered to discuss the affairs of the world and hold each other accountable for their own nation’s contribution to Vispasia, to pass new laws and to remove old ones. From that nation, everyone’s futures were to be decided. Though they seemed in awe of my travels, they seemed to be rather dismissive, if not fearful, of other nations, particularly those closest to the border, Maristan and Koton. They quoted the king on his dislike of Free State, too, suggesting yet again a desire to return to the days of Empire.

The guests – some of whom were very high-ranking clerks and officials – could not get enough of the tales, so it wasn’t until a little later in the evening that I gladly broke free.

At that point, my throat was dry and I badly needed a drink.

Suitably replenished, I managed to take Senator Veron to one side. ‘My apologies for getting down to business on a night like this, senator, but do you have the names and addresses for those actors who were present at Optryx?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘I managed to speak to the Censor earlier today, and he noted them down for you.’ He slipped away into the crowd, then a moment later returned with a cup of wine and a scroll of paper, which he handed to me. ‘The Skull and Jasmine theatre company,’ he said. ‘They’re rough sorts, from a rough part of the city, but name me a thespian who isn’t a dodgy fellow.’

‘Thank you.’ I slipped the scroll in my pocket.

‘What do you think of the ladies?’ He gestured around with his cup. ‘Charming, aren’t they?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Not your sort?’ Veron frowned as if I was some puzzle he needed to decipher. ‘If you want a male companion, we can set you up with one of those. One just tends to ask about women in the first instance – an old habit really.’

‘Neither will be necessary,’ I insisted.

‘Are you certain you and your assistant aren’t wed? I rather admire the darker-skinned women. Much more adventurous. They’ll let you—’

‘Quite certain,’ I said.

Parties turned people into strange creatures. I don’t know whether or not Veron was drunk, but he was starting to remind me why I had been so happy away from Tryum all these years – that, at night, and in these circles, people would reduce each other to sexual commodities. ‘I’m afraid my career permits little time for affairs of the heart,’ I said.

‘A great shame,’ he spoke into his wine, ‘there are a dozen women here who would be all over a handsome fellow such as yourself. At least three have told me so tonight, in explicit detail. I envy you, being free and single. It’s been years since someone spoke of me in explicit detail.’

‘Perhaps after I find Lacanta’s killer, I may be able to enjoy such matters, but not at the moment.’

The reminder seemed to sober him, and his countenance grew more serious. ‘Indeed. Now go on, mingle, and you will have some more wine, won’t you? I’ve purchased many amphorae for tonight, and it all needs to be drunk, else people will say I am a bad host. I might be many bad things, but a bad host I am not.’

‘I’ll not drink too much,’ I replied. ‘My father’s funeral is after dawn tomorrow. It probably wouldn’t be all that respectful – to him or the gods – if I turned up reeking of wine.’

Veron smiled and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. ‘You are your father’s son.’ Then he turned to mix with his guests once again.

‘No,’ I promised myself. ‘I’m more than that.’

A handsome middle-aged lady approached me when I was on my own, and talked about love like she knew what it meant. I’m not sure what she wanted of me – I’m not even certain that she knew herself – but she soon left me alone again. I talked with one of the other guests – a good-looking young man – one who had been close to Lacanta.

‘How close?’ I asked, and the look I received was innuendo enough. The same individual then questioned me gently, touching my arm, and asked me if I would like to return to his house afterwards. I politely declined, without trying to bruise his ego, and he seemed to brush off the rejection well enough.

Such attention might have been flattering, but I saw that many of the guests here were looking for reasons to disappear with another. Parties could on occasion be pointless for a Sun Chamber official, but when there was a case going on, they could also provide fascinating details as wine liberated people from their inhibitions, and secrets were spilled. At least I could begin to get a picture of Lacanta’s social scene, which was a boon for someone unfamiliar with contemporary life in the city. She was hated and loved by many; there was no shortage of narratives winding around her life.

There seemed to be an air of desperation about tonight’s conversations. Many people would often whisper in brief, urgent moments away from the other guests. I suspected that, with so many senators in the room, political manoeuvring was the topic of the night, yet I had heard nothing of note, only the occasional muttering about foreigners, about borders, about the glories of old – and of military expansion. More than one individual expressed an interest in purchasing Mauland slaves, too.

Eventually, a little later into the evening, I managed to speak to General Maxant. We stood in the large garden by the fountain, enjoying the balmy Tryum evening. Tonight he was wearing two metal bracelets on one arm, of the kind awarded for bravery on the battlefield.

‘How goes the investigation?’ he asked.

‘I’m listening to what people have to say for the moment. All I’ve heard so far concerns either ghosts or magic.’

He grunted something that could have been disapproval, but I knew Maxant had spent too much time away from the city to know about such things.

‘You were on the scene of the murder before anyone else,’ I said. ‘You and your men opened that door to the temple.’

‘With some difficulty.’ He stared into the fountain. ‘We are not weak men, Drakenfeld, and it took a lot of us to break open that door.’

‘And even though you were among the first to gain entry, you saw nothing at all? No one who might have been hiding in the shadows. No one who could have sneaked out when the moment was ripe.’

‘If we had seen a man, Drakenfeld, his head would now be sitting on a spike outside Optryx,’ he replied angrily. ‘We are not the kind of people to dither on such matters. You might not like our kind of justice, but it’s quick.’

‘I meant, rather, that something might have been at the periphery of your mind. Maybe it could have been the strange movements of those around you. Someone stepping in behind who you did not think should be there. A figure out of place perhaps.’

‘We’re the best soldiers in Detrata. Highly trained. Alert at all times. Back from a glorious campaign. There were eight soldiers present, eight who entered the room ahead of a surge of senatorial types and I’m telling you that none of us saw anything in that room other than Lacanta, on the floor, covered in blood.’

Two guests walked by, badly pretending not to have heard the general. I considered if one of the soldiers had done the deed in a rapid move, but it might not have been at all possible. Even if it was, the general wasn’t going to say anything. Was he involved himself ? I thought back to what Yago Boll had said about the murder weapon being a small blade – not the sort of thing that a soldier would carry. Even now Maxant’s sword was at his side.

‘A tragic situation,’ I said softly. ‘I think all we can safely say is that Lacanta’s death was not suicide. At least, not with those wounds.’

‘Suicide is a cowardly way out,’ he grunted. ‘The gods don’t look kindly on such matters. Especially Trymus – he abhors such things. Lacanta wasn’t the type to resort to suicide.’

‘I’ve seen the most unlikely figures kill themselves,’ I said. ‘Our heads are complex instruments.’

Maxant shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t have done that.’

‘Did you know her well?’

‘I knew her – not well – but I knew her. I’ve been good friends with Licintius for much of my life. Admittedly much of what I know of her is through his eyes.’ Maxant paused for a moment, then continued more softly. ‘He held her in great affection. That’s enough for me to know she was a good sort.’

‘She seems not to be as popular as I would have thought,’ I said, ‘for a good sort in such a prominent position. People here offer a somewhat different view.’

Maxant chuckled. ‘Depends on who you speak to.’

‘Well, now I’m speaking to you.’

‘I’d no problem with her, if that’s what you’re getting at. She was probably too scared of a rough old thing like me. Tend to attract certain types, we soldiers.’ He grinned bitterly. ‘Not that attraction means much in a marriage in Tryum.’

‘You were not one of those susceptible to her charms?’

He swigged from his wine cup. ‘She was a fine lady. No doubt about that. But I’m someone who can spot tactics a mile off.’

‘What kind of tactics?’

‘Plenty of questions tonight.’

‘It’s just about my only annoying habit. So, what tactics?’

Maxant grunted a laugh. ‘The kind she uses in the Senate. To persuade people to back the king’s policies over the years. Licintius will miss not only his sister, but a great ally in that respect. And he knows it, too. She was vital to furthering his ambitions. Many times he’d have trouble getting something passed through the Senate. Lacanta had the ways to nudge an unpopular policy through. Knew how to play the games without anyone knowing she was even in the arena in the first place. I admired that.’

‘A lady of politics,’ I whispered, knowing this complicated matters immensely. There were no longer jealous lovers who might have the urge to kill her, but political rivals as well. The number of motives and suspects grew ever more complex. ‘Do you think it could have been an assassin from a nearby country?’

The general looked surprised at the comment. ‘I am not up to speed with local politics, outside of what letters I’ve read while abroad, so I cannot comment on the tensions between our nations – I am merely a servant of Detrata. As for an assassin? It was certainly a thorough job. But how did they escape a locked room? As soon as you’ve a suspicion, tell me who you think did this. Licintius is like a brother to me. I can’t stand seeing him in such pain. I’ll help you where I can, send my soldiers in to surround a building, whatever it takes, you hear?’

I gave a nod. ‘Where can I find you?’

‘I’m staying at my villa along the coast. It’s less than half a day’s ride, but the sea breeze is good for my spirits.’

‘Not a city man then?’

‘I like my sleep,’ he remarked.

‘The sounds of the city can get to all of us,’ I smiled.

‘It’s not that. It’s the coastal air – very soothing. If you’d seen what I’ve seen in Mauland, then you’d need it too.’

There was a sudden, distant look about the man.

I thanked the general for his offer and left him alone in the garden with his thoughts.

Inside, Leana was still reluctantly the centre of attention and, by the sound of it, facing a barrage of patronizing questions. She was relieved by my presence. We thanked Veron for his hospitality, made our excuses and finally left the mansion.

Exhausted, we headed through the dark streets in relative silence.

It had not been an entirely wasted night, I decided. At least I had some addresses to go on, and would soon be able to ascertain more about the Skull and Jasmine group.

We turned down a relatively empty street, moved across the stepping stones to the other pavement, something that was never that simple in the dark.

The two of us moved towards the light from a couple of braziers, and I could suddenly smell something potent, like vinegar, when…

… Leana was standing over me with her sword drawn. I was lying on my right side, my head supported by my cloak. Even in the darkness, I noticed the scratches across the back of my right hand, caused by the stone of the pavement.

‘How long did it last?’ I asked.

‘Not long. I counted a little over a hundred heartbeats and you began to show signs of settling.’

I wasn’t confused, just a little disorientated. I knew exactly what had happened. ‘Did anyone see me?’

‘No,’ Leana replied, sheathing her sword. She helped me off the ground. I felt unsteady for a moment, my body aching mildly from having been so tense. The sensation soon passed. In a few breaths I was able to relax a little.

Once again I looked at the scrapes, this time in more detail. ‘I must have been shaking quite a bit this time.’

‘No more than is usual.’

‘The gods were lenient this time,’ I replied and folded up my cloak. A hundred prayers to Polla echoed around my mind. ‘Thank you, Leana. As ever.’

Leana regarded me with perfect neutrality. I didn’t like a fuss being made over my seizures. I didn’t even like anyone knowing, but Leana had so often stood over me protectively until the sensation passed.

Leana alone could do this and not think it a slight of the gods – how could she if she did not believe deities could possess such powers?

A light sleeper, she would occasionally come into my room if the seizure happened during my sleep. Over the years I could think of no more trusting act than for her to stand over me while I suffered the vengeance of the gods. It was one of many reasons I could not cope without her.

‘Any visions?’ she asked.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Never have. I don’t think I ever will.’

‘A shame. In my tribe you would be deemed a notable shaman for such things.’

‘It is a pity I’m not in Atrewe then.’ Besides, even if I was experiencing visions, I could never remember a thing from a seizure. ‘I’ll need to make some offerings to Polla when we get home.’

‘I can sit by your bed later,’ Leana asked, ‘in case it happens again.’

‘I… would appreciate that. In this city more than any other, Leana, it is important no one ever finds out. In Venyn it might not have mattered so much, but here people frown heavily upon such things. There are strict procedures, strict social etiquette. People are conservative. Few would ever trust me again.’

Leana nodded. ‘If you like, I will show you an apothecary tomorrow – I saw one down towards Tradum from your house, on a very thin street. Maybe there is advanced medicine in Tryum also?’

‘There is, but what can an apothecary offer to protect against the deeds of bitter gods? No, I can only change this through prayer and by trying harder to please them. Come on, it’s late. We should at least get some rest before our early start. I can only hope that I don’t suffer from a headache during what’s left of the night.’