Retribution

On the Rooftop

Back in our room, with the low evening sunlight casting a bright-red glow on the walls and a fresh breeze coming in through the open window, I sat on the bed and contemplated the logistic puzzle that a census must have presented to Sulma Tan.

It was not merely counting the official number of women, men and children, or amount of land and goods, but the act of compiling the information too, surveying, interviewing, and presenting it in a way that the queen would find beneficial for her to make informed choices about the direction she wished to take Koton. There would be no end of liars and cheats seeing this as an exercise in tax collecting, or simply boasting, not to mention trying to make sense of the numbers of people migrating back and forth across borders like air through an open mouth. No doubt there would be many interfering, so that the census did not highlight any untoward business within the nation. There were thousands of people who lived in tribes across Vispasia, too, and who claimed no nation as their own.

The Sun Chamber always approved of official efforts to monitor a country like this. It went some way to analysing the large and fluid cultures of the Vispasian Royal Union so that strategies could be formed when the kings and queens met in Free State. They also went some way to keeping the rogue propaganda of a royal in check: artificial tensions would so often be used as a method of funnelling resources in a more favourable manner, and the more official data there was, then the more resources could be allocated evenly.

I didn’t envy Sulma Tan in her efforts to assemble such vast quantities of information. What were her other roles, once the census had been dealt with? Dealing with people like me, arranging the Kotonese Games, generally overseeing matters of the court perhaps. She mentioned another secretary, which implied there was a great deal of business to arrange on the queen’s behalf. Leana and I began to change into more formal clothing for the evening’s event, both of us utterly oblivious to the dress code. Smiling to myself, I guessed that the queen would admire something that suggested ‘high culture’, and made a remark to Leana along those lines.

‘She is a snob,’ Leana muttered. ‘This queen. There’s something about her I do not like.’

‘She’s a queen, what did you expect? They’re all snobbish to some extent. Some can be humble, some can be grotesque in their enjoyment of splendour. Royals, and many in their circles, can’t help but view themselves as apart from normal society — because they live unlike anyone else. If people treat them like gods how can they be expected to behave differently? People don’t simply become royals: they’re sculpted by the acts of others. They have no reference to empathize with the people they lead after years of such god-like reverence. Is it any wonder we hear why so many went mad or committed bizarre deeds?’

‘It seems more than that in this case. People — do not seem to matter to her at all. Her people. Any people, in fact. Even her own daughter.’

Leana had a point. There was a tension between mother and daughter that I couldn’t quite pick apart. ‘I’d be amazed if her rule was as progressive as she was making it out to be. But, that said, I do get the impression the old days of Koton are generally shunned in some way, that there’s a keenness to separate themselves from the old country. Quite the opposite of Detrata.’

‘Has Koton ever had an empire like Detrata though?’

‘No, never. The people here — the tribes and families — have forever been nomadic. It’s a shame she’s hiding from the past — theirs is still a dignified history, as far as histories go. No great genocides. No great wars for centuries. Simply various powerful families jostling for control. Maybe it’s too dull for her extravagant tastes.’

Leana reacted in a subtle but clear way that suggested something wasn’t right — but her concern was not with my words. She gestured for me to keep talking so I continued, speaking about the queen’s impressive residence and the wonderful ornaments on display, and I focused my attention on where Leana had originally been standing. Meanwhile, Leana stepped cautiously around the room, only to then move along the wall with her back pressed against it, heading towards the window. I continued addressing her previous position, my gaze following her movements, all the while wondering what it was that she had spotted.

Arcing her body, she dashed for the window. She leapt out through the open gap, feet first, and landed on the rooftop just the other side. I ran after her, climbing outside with caution as she skimmed across the angled plane with her arms held out wide for balance.

She stopped, placed her hands on her hips and sighed, peering back and forth across the adjacent rooftops. I followed her gaze but couldn’t see anyone up here, only the lovely sunset.

Down below people drifted around the streets. In the distance, beyond the rooftops, were the dark peaks of mountains, which would soon be lost to the night. Only now, examining the vista, did I realize quite how beautiful this place was.

‘What did you see?’ I asked.

‘A person,’ Leana replied. ‘A figure.’

‘You’re quite certain?’

‘I definitely saw someone,’ she snapped. ‘A cloaked figure, at a distance. Just out of the corner of my eye. We were being watched.’

‘No other details?’ I asked. ‘What clothing did they have on? The colour of their hair?’

‘I could not tell, I had too little time and the light was behind them. It was probably a brown robe.’

We both crouched and sat tentatively on the sloping roof, eyeing the city below for unusual movements. An occasional, sharp gust of wind reminded me of the drop below, only a couple of storeys, but enough to remind me to be vigilant.

‘Very few people know we’re even here,’ I said. ‘Why would anyone be watching us?’

‘Sulma Tan,’ Leana said. ‘She knows. She may have told others.’

‘She’d be too busy,’ I remarked.

‘Or she does not trust us and wants us watched.’

That didn’t seem either in or out of character. I knew too little about the woman. For someone who frequently conducted surveys and interviews, I imagined she would have a large number of suitable people to hand for such a task. It was possible that word had been spread about the court that the Sun Chamber was investigating the death of the bishop, and that someone else had put a spy to watch — in case I came too close. That was every bit as likely as it being an agent controlled by Sulma Tan.

While I peered over the edge, I noted several potential routes down for our visitor to have made an escape: a series of smaller rooftops or a ladder. Even the drop down was a manageable jump for a skilled individual. Whoever had been here was likely long gone — their escape route calculated well in advance.

We spent a little while sat absorbing the sights, sounds and smells of the prefecture. Though I had spent my days in many different cities, I often wondered what it was that made each of them unique, and what made Kuvash so. . strange. A city’s identity was born from its inhabitants: they created the mood and the design of the streets. The buildings were symptoms of a culture’s art and, ultimately, its political or religious decisions. But from here I could see the mishmash of styles that weren’t the expressions of its own people: these were buildings put up to satisfy the demands of a queen who admired other cultures. Though most of the motifs on the surrounding buildings were Detratan, I noted designs from Maristan, Theran, Dalta — even from the deserts of Locco.

There was little of Koton’s identity to be found here. Little soul. In a way, then, that was Koton’s expression: it had absorbed the various styles of Vispasia without developing one of its own. A borrowed culture, a denied heritage — a country unsure of its own roots and ashamed of its past.

Eventually Leana traced her steps back along the rooftop, while I continued to consider the streets. After a moment she called me over, and I went to meet her.

‘What have you found?’ I stepped carefully along the gently angled roof to her side.

Leana was crouching down by one of the tiles that had slipped out of line and jutted out at an awkward angle. She carefully picked off it a piece of brown fabric.

‘It is just some cloth. A small piece.’ She handed it up to me. ‘What do you make of it?’

Tilting it this way and that, there were no discernible markings, no unusual stitching, nothing to really mark it out. ‘Judging by the reasonably fine quality, I’d say that it could have come from a cloak. It’s not wet, and there had been a brief shower not all that long ago. If it was fixed here, it was very recent.’

‘There was no need to doubt me then,’ Leana observed.

‘I never did, not for a moment,’ I replied, walking back to the window. ‘Though it could have come from anyone. Could you tell from your brief glimpse if they were a threat to us?’

‘I do not believe we were in any danger from this incident. I have no idea how long they had been standing there, but if it was someone who had been sent to kill us, they could so easily have fired an arrow or bolt through the open window, into your chest or face. There was plenty of time to make a mess of you.’

That was a sobering notion. ‘Maybe we should see if we can move somewhere safer.’

‘That might be wise,’ Leana agreed.