Retribution

Where’s the Amulet?

Another table, another body; this day was turning out to be gratuitous in its scientific rigour. However, Grendor of the Cape had not yet been cut open. He lay there with a cloth covering the lower half of his body, his brutally scarred, naked chest exposed to the room, his wife standing beside his resting form, while Leana and myself waited patiently in the adjacent chamber.

‘Can she not hurry?’ Leana whispered. ‘It has been some time now. It is not as though she is the one looking for clues.’

A shake of my head was all that was required. Leana was used to my ways. Death was very businesslike to her, which was perhaps not a terrible way of dealing with the large quantities of it we had both seen. Treating it so matter-of-factly was a sound way to cope. However, I had my own way of dealing with things — as Polla, my goddess, would approve.

Respect. Dignity.

These were the very underpinnings of a civilized society, in life or death. They were also among the core values of the Sun Chamber. Without attitudes like these we would resort to being warring factions and savage people, much like the pale-skinned Maulanders who had been subdued by Detratan troops so very recently.

No, we would be patient. We would allow Borta all the time she needed to mourn her husband. And, just as important, we would be seen to be patient and respectful, for we were also ambassadors for the Sun Chamber.

On a small side table behind us at the back of the room, and because of the lack of windows in this subterranean place, by lantern light Sulma Tan was busy making calculations in a ledger, presumably to do with her census.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ I said, ‘but I have a question related to the case and your census work.’

She looked up at me, her eyes glimmering in the light of the lantern. ‘What is it?’

‘Two bodies have been worked upon in some way,’ I continued. ‘Such work has been done from within this prefecture. And if not, at the very least close by it. We need to track down whether or not there could be such a building — say, a workshop — where this could be carried out. Even a disused shop might provide some valuable insight.’

‘That is asking for quite a lot,’ she replied.

‘But you will surely have such information from the census?’

‘Yes, but the volume of such information is enormous.’ Sulma Tan was determined, however, and I knew that it wasn’t in her character to say no to such challenges. ‘But we can do this. I will task one of the other administrators with finding possible venues. Not merely workshops, but we will have a list of all disused buildings. Somewhere out of sight, perhaps?’

‘That makes sense. Hidden discreetly away. Somewhere where there is not a large amount of footfall, I’d wager. It might all come to nothing, of course, but it’s an avenue worth pursuing. If we do have the resources, we might as well use them.’

‘Yes, yes. We have the resources.’ Her answer came as if I had issued her some kind of challenge she could not refuse. Now that she was open to the suggestion, I pushed her further.

‘It would be even better if you could map them out along with the locations of murder. .’ I realized that might have been asking a lot.

‘This is simple enough, yes. We have plenty of maps, and so I can commission any necessary alterations. I will make it so.’

‘While we can access this information, I’d like to build up a picture of who the killer might be, because I suspect it is someone within the prefecture.’ I explained my earlier notions about the class of the killer. ‘It is possible they have had connection with the military in some way, or with the bishop’s organizations. If they have received medical training or instruction in the arts of butchery, then I would like to know of their existence.’

‘That information,’ Sulma Tan said, ‘could be even more of a challenge. . There could be thousands of names. The census is simply a broad list, though admittedly divided into current trades. As for people’s former lives. .’

‘Even so, we have to try. You can do this, right?’

‘Of course I can.’ She was incredulous I had to ask.

The door opened and Borta was standing there, dressed soberly in a black gown. Several cressets burned brightly behind her. She looked indignant and I asked her what was wrong.

‘His amulet is missing,’ she snapped.

‘I’m sorry?’ I asked. The rest of us became suddenly focused on Borta.

She led us into the adjacent chamber and we all filed in around the resting body.

‘I’ve looked through his belongings that you left over there,’ she said, ‘and everything was present — apart from an amulet.’

‘Nothing has been removed,’ Sulma Tan said. ‘His possessions are exactly as we found them. I can assure you access has been restricted.’

‘What kind of amulet was it?’ I asked.

‘One he wore around his neck. It was a circle of gold, decorated plainly, with occasional geometric shapes. With a gemstone the size of a coin set in the centre.’

‘The gemstone,’ I said, thinking of the ring we found hidden in the bishop’s mattress. It was still in my pocket. ‘What colour was it?’

‘Red. A ruby.’

‘Definitely a ruby?’ I asked.

‘I’m not completely sure.’ A pause. Borta searched her memory. ‘I always thought it a little ugly if I’m honest. It did not seem the thing one wore for ornamentation. I expected rubies to be. . more refined?’

Leana glanced at me knowingly.

Sulma Tan said, ‘You two know something, yes? Have you seen this missing amulet?’

‘No.’ I reached into my pocket and produced the envelope, opening it for her to look at.

Sulma Tan gestured for me to show Borta, though she was annoyed I had not shown her this piece of evidence.

‘But was the stone the same colour as this?’ I asked, offering her the envelope.

She peered inside, uncertain at first. ‘It seems so. Yes. It has that curious cloudiness.’

‘You need to be sure, because I do not think this is a ruby.’ I plucked it out and handed it to her, while Leana brought a lantern over so that she could see it better. The stone glimmered in the light. ‘Well it looks close enough,’ Borta said, ‘but sadly I have little expertise with precious stones. Grendor was very good with such things and he brought me home some lovely items.’

A connection, at last.

‘I can assure you,’ Sulma Tan stressed, ‘that if the amulet has been taken by someone within this palace, they will be discovered and punished accordingly. I will send an urgent message to all senior staff within the building.’

‘There’s every chance it was taken by those who committed this wicked crime,’ I said. ‘I found this ring in the mattress at the bishop’s temple. He had kept it very well hidden, so no one could have thought to take it. That said, he probably acted in this way since he could not wear such jewellery in his temple. Grendor, however, must have had no such problem with wearing an item like this.’

Borta shook her head and stared into a vacant corner of the room. ‘He rarely took it off.’

‘Do you know where he acquired it, Borta? Think hard, please, it could be very important.’

A shake of her head and I knew that a promising lead would be stalled. ‘Gren always wore it, long before I met him. Once when I asked him about it, he said he bought it on his travels. That it brought him good luck. He often spoke of sailors and superstition.’

‘How long have you known each other?’

‘Eight years.’

‘And he’s worn it all that time. . Thank you, Borta, you’ve been very helpful.’ I exhaled deeply. ‘Have you spent enough time with your husband?’

‘I have,’ she replied, staring at the ground. ‘There is nothing else to say about it.’ Then she gazed at me with a surprising moist-eyed anger. ‘Please, Officer Drakenfeld. You will see to it that whoever did this will be caught, won’t you?’

‘I will do my very best,’ I replied.

After Borta had left, Sulma Tan walked with me into the chamber to view the body of Grendor one more time. Concealed on a table nearby was the long wooden box, not quite a coffin, not quite a crate, that contained the body of the bishop.

‘Carlon is going to be here shortly.’ She pulled back the black cloth that covered the bishop’s remains.

She gasped.

‘What is it?’ I couldn’t see what had shocked her. Leana walked calmly over to the other side of the body.

‘It has moved. This torso wasn’t arranged like this. It was on its back and now it is different. .’

‘You’re quite-’

‘Certain!’ she snapped. ‘Yes, yes. I am certain. Stop questioning me.’ A breath or two later and she apologized. ‘I’m so sorry, Officer Drakenfeld. I didn’t mean to shout at you like that.’

‘It’s quite all right. I deserved it.’

Leana chimed in, ‘Yes. I get tired of him sometimes. Forgive him — he is a man, and does not know how heavily he treads.’

‘Very kind of you, Leana,’ I replied.

‘But really,’ Sulma Tan continued, ‘I am not myself.’

‘Please,’ I replied. ‘Think nothing of it.’

So it appeared either someone was playing tricks on us, or someone had got access to the body parts of the bishop and — somehow — had managed to give them a few last drops of life. Perhaps the bishop knew something we did not about the business of life and death.

A thick humid fug hung over the city. A few traces of rain seemed to hover over those far hills, but there was no sign it would ever come our way. It wasn’t merely the weather that made the mood of the city different now. There was a strange ambience about the streets that I’d not seen so far: a sense of expectation, almost of excitement.

People began to surge through the wide streets. Merchants had brought their carts away from the markets and were selling items along the thoroughfares, an illegal act in many cities. It was all the more curious given the late hour of the afternoon, when trade was usually winding down.

We moved among the crowds, attempting to gauge what, if anything, was going on. Leana pointed out that the gates of the prefecture were starting to open, people grouping towards them. A horn blared somewhere beyond and soon I could see the tops of short, conical helmets, with crimson-coloured horsehair plumes drooping behind. Swords and bows were slung across the shoulders of the riders. They filed in, perhaps two hundred in all, absorbing the general cheers of the gathered throng. Up close I could see them wearing blue cloaks and black tunics of the equestrian ranks. They wore silver-scaled body armour, and raised above their mass was the banner of the red stag on blue.

They rode past us, taking many of the gathered crowd with them on their way. The bustle lingered for a while longer, before vanishing as if it had never been there.

‘If the arrow that was fired at us turns out to be of a military type,’ Leana commented, ‘then matters have suddenly become far more confusing.’

‘Ever the optimist,’ I replied.

‘I am the realist.’

When we arrived back at our temporary accommodation, we were considerably more cautious. Leana went into our room first, sword drawn, and I followed immediately after, heading towards the window. She scrutinized all our belongings before concluding, ‘No one is here. Nothing has been taken.’

‘There’s no one outside either, from what I can see.’

No sooner had we sat down than Jejal rumbled up the stairs and burst into the room. His shirt was covered in sweat as well as some dubious food stains. ‘Greetings, Officer Drakenfeld! A productive day, I hope?’

‘It was, thank you.’

‘Here.’ He handed over a message tube before wiping his palms on his shirt. ‘This was left with me but an hour ago. It has the royal seal! You must open it quickly, for it was sent with urgency.’ He waited a moment more while I stared blankly at him, waiting for him to leave us in private. Eventually he understood my wish.

‘My apologies. Such secretive people,’ he muttered, before walking down the stairs.

I opened up the tube and read the rolled-up letter inside. It was an invitation to a private dinner with the queen tonight. My presence was ‘expected’. No doubt the queen would be eager to note our progress, especially given the development with her friend, Grendor of the Cape.

Not a moment for quiet contemplation, I thought. Still, I felt rather alert given the long day.

Leana looked over the letter. ‘At least we will eat better food than whatever Jejal had been preparing. Or, rather, has spilled down his front.’