Retribution

The Manuscript Hall

Horse dung and woodsmoke filled the air. A priest gave a sermon by a fountain nearby, though no one was listening to him. The three of us continued through the humid streets.

‘Well?’ Nambu asked.

‘Well what?’

‘Well, that was useless.’

‘Was it?’

‘Stop answering questions with questions,’ she said.

‘Why?’ I replied, trying to hide my amusement at her impatience. ‘OK, I’m sorry. But come now, Nambu, what makes you think that was a useless meeting? I’m serious.’

‘He told you nothing. We got no information. Therefore it was useless.’

‘Some might think so, but not me. Vallamon revealed a great many things that we needed to know. We know that the ring is special — that it is very rare, enough to puzzle an expert of his pedigree. It makes me think that the stone is significant to this case. If it’s the same kind of stone as in the missing amulet owned by Grendor, then it’s incredibly significant. The connection — and whatever it might throw up — could be the key. Indeed, one might speculate that if anyone else wore a stone like this, they would have good cause to be worried.’

‘It would be worth trying to send a message out to those citizens of the prefecture. .’ Leana added.

‘Maybe. If we dressed up the message as one of public safety. . It also means that those individuals might come forward, and give us more information.’

‘Though I do not think they will come forward,’ Leana said. ‘These people will most likely have something to hide.’

‘True,’ I said. ‘If they fear for their lives because of what happened to Grendor and the bishop then they might want protection or even to not draw attention to themselves.’

‘They will have something to hide. Some secret.’

Nambu asked the question, before I could. ‘Why would you think that?’

Leana addressed Nambu. ‘Think. People do not die horrible deaths for no good reason. Thought has gone into them. There has to be something behind such killings — as with most killings. If the precious stone is the link, then those people who have the stone have probably done the same thing as those who have been killed. They will be in fear for their lives, yes, but if their past is so bad it gets them killed. .’

‘You make a good point,’ I said. ‘I hadn’t thought of it quite like that.’

Nambu was quiet on the issue. Part of me wondered if she knew what she was letting herself in for, though I suspected her days were going to be more interesting than she originally thought, and more stimulating than shuffling to and fro down those echoing palace corridors. ‘So where do we go now?’ Nambu asked.

‘Sulma Tan mentioned that there was a manuscript hall to be found within the prefecture.’

‘Sure, I know where it is,’ Nambu said.

It occurred to me how useful it would be to have someone who knew the prefecture well. ‘Then lead the way.’

‘OK. What do you want from there?’

‘Information,’ I replied. ‘Knowledge.’

‘What else would you go there for,’ Nambu muttered.

‘You asked.’

‘What kind of information?’

I sighed, wondering just how many more questions the girl would ask. ‘The manuscript hall contains information on key figures of the city. I would like to find specific details of naval movements — specifically of Grendor’s past adventures. Sulma Tan also said there was a section on recorded deaths, as part of the previous national census. While considerably out of date, it may provide something of interest — on the subject of ritual killing. And before you ask why, it’s to see if there have been any similar deaths in the past.’

‘That all sounds pretty dull if you ask me,’ Nambu said.

‘The business of the Sun Chamber is not all sword fights in the dark,’ I replied.

‘Unfortunately,’ Leana added.

As we continued through the streets, more than once I suspected that we were being followed. To an extent, I expected to be followed — if not by our friend from the previous days, then by one of the queen’s agents keeping an eye on Nambu.

But this didn’t feel subtle. At least three men gawked at us as we strode by. They were tall fellows with a simple though colourless military look about their clothing, and were loitering at different parts of the street. This common association between them was unnerving.

Later still, as we moved through an older part of the prefecture, not too far from the river, Leana casually informed me that there were five men following us in a group, all with that same, deliberately anonymous look.

We picked up our pace.

Luckily, we managed to make our way up the steps of the manuscript hall without being caught. The building itself would act as some kind of protection, and it was possible that those who were following would be put off now that we were inside an official royal property.

From the outside, the manuscript hall did not look all that impressive. Over the doorway was a large triangular pediment, the kind that might be seen in numerous secondary temples across Vispasia. From the doorway there was a view overlooking a small market area. Statues of unfamiliar warriors stood in pairs outside, their crumbling faces blighted by age, their stone swords dulled by time.

Inside, however, the place was remarkable. Well-kept green marble floors extended into the distance. A wide central passageway led through row upon row of polished oak shelving. Each section of shelving was around twenty feet wide, six feet deep and went up to the ceiling. On each of the shelves lay dozens of rolls of paper, ranging in quality, age and size, but given the number of shelves there must have been thousands of elongated scrolls.

The ceiling featured good quality glass, allowing plenty of light to shine through — perhaps to minimize the risk of fire. I cast a wary eye on the metal cressets that were fixed to each unit, illuminating the path through the hall.

Attendants in plain white, almost monastic garb, proceeded slowly up and down the rows, making notes, carrying scrolls, or whispering in the alcoves. On one side of the hall stood a section containing impressively bound books; it had been a long time since I’d seen so many in one place.

We browsed through them, leisurely, almost forgetting that we had been followed on the way to the building. The books were written in many languages, though mainly Detratan — and using some of the old form, from when the Empire flourished centuries ago. There were letters from Lentus Magnus, one of the Three Noble Emperors. I was shocked to see theorems from the mad emperor Fingus Trentnor, who used to boil his prisoners and attempted, in his latter days, to boil his friends and family as well. Apart from his two sisters, of course, whom he married simultaneously. If there had been more time to read, I would have liked to spend some time with that entertainingly bizarre text, especially since I had thought them long-forgotten.

At my request Leana remained vigilant at all times, and prowled the hall for any signs of the men tailing us. She would no doubt look for potential escape routes should we be attacked — I had no need to ask her to do so.

Meanwhile Nambu and I headed deeper into this resplendent building. Nambu directed me to one of the attendants. I asked her where we might find information on shipping movements, trade and old census data — from before the time of Sulma Tan.

The attendant, a thin woman in her forties, suggested I give a donation to the upkeep of the manuscript hall if I wished to make use of the facilities. The royal blessing, she said, only went so far. It didn’t seem an unreasonable request so, after I placed some silver coins in the donations box on the wall, we were directed to a dusty corner where there was a private desk and a candle to work by. Moments later, the attendant brought over some of the information we’d asked for before she wandered off and left us to it.

‘You can read, I take it?’ I asked Nambu.

‘What do you take me for, a village fool?’ She perched up on a stool alongside me. ‘I’ve had some of the finest tutors in the country.’

‘I merely thought I’d check,’ I replied, sliding one of the tomes over to her. ‘Read through that.’

‘What is it?’

‘A list of registered shipping companies.’

‘Haven’t you got something exciting? It is hardly an epic poem.’

‘No, but right now this is more important than poetry. Please, scan through it.’

‘Do I have to?’

‘You could go back to your mother if you wanted.’

‘Fine.’ Nambu gave me a look of disdain before pulling open the heavy cover of the book. ‘What am I looking for?’

‘I’d like to know if any of these companies were registered in the name of Grendor of the Cape.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going through these death records.’

We studied assiduously for a good two hours. Now and then Nambu would let out a gentle sigh, but I was impressed with her diligence. Meanwhile the census data provided a detailed and interesting reminder of the number of ways one could die, but I spotted no abnormal patterns. People died of lung diseases, accidental poisonings, horse tramplings and failures of the heart. With respect to recorded murders, many of which remained unsolved, there were stabbings, cut throats, objects being dropped from a great height, and a good number of deliberate poisonings using all kinds of substances. In rural districts there was more violence. But in the city of Kuvash it seemed that a lot of people had simply vanished, and over a space of about two decades. While in another era this might have been because of war, in times of peace I could only attribute it to a lack of information, or people falling between the gaps in society. Or a particularly rigorous purge by the queen, for there was a noticeably blank space alongside state-sanctioned executions. Simply it might be attributed to the wrong numbers in the wrong columns.

Leana cautiously made her way around the hall, peering this way and that, ever vigilant. Whenever she passed there were no signs of anxiousness on her part, which allowed me to relax into the research.

‘Look at this,’ Nambu breathed excitedly. ‘I’ve found his name.’

She turned the book towards me and pointed to the page. The writing was not great, but there indeed was Grendor’s name and that of a company called Naval Exports.

‘Excellent work, Nambu.’

It was interesting that he had decided to use his military roots in the company name. From these accounts he had registered Naval Exports thirty years ago, though back then it had been known as Vispasian Exports. It was probably only when he retired that he changed the name, judging by the dates — unless, of course, there had been another reason to make the change.

‘Did you find anything?’ she asked.

‘There are many gruesome ways to die,’ I replied, ‘as there always seem to be. However nothing that I’ve seen seems to share any characteristics with the recent murders.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘Perhaps,’ I replied. ‘It certainly makes things no easier. Right, we should go — I could do with reporting back to Sulma Tan.’

We stood to leave when Leana moved swiftly towards us. ‘I have seen nothing out of the ordinary, which makes me suspect that whoever was following us is still waiting for us outside.’

‘Have you found a more discreet exit?’ I asked.

‘Not from my surveillance. This place is a labyrinth, though. We should ask.’

After some furtive efforts, a helpful attendant directed us to another door that the staff themselves used, which was concealed behind a bookcase. We managed to pass through musty passageways and then stepped out into the afternoon.

No sooner had daylight covered us than I could see them: two of the men who had been following us earlier. Then came a third — a woman walking slowly with a baton of some description held behind her back. Only then did I realize how bad this route actually was. There were very few alleyways or paths where we could try to lose them again.

I whispered to Leana, ‘Whatever you do, make sure Nambu is safe. She is our first priority.’

Leana nodded, and with her arm around her shoulder, steered the princess slightly to one side.

‘What’s going on?’ Nambu was oblivious to the threat.

‘For your safety,’ I said firmly, ‘you must follow Leana’s instructions.’

We proceeded down the steps and onto the street. The road was busy, but not enough that we could lose ourselves in the throng. My heart skipping a beat, together we jogged towards the right, along the edge of a marketplace, and down one of two side streets.

‘We should split up,’ I urged in the tall shadows of the alleyway, ‘but remember, take Nambu to safety.’

‘No,’ Leana said. ‘We should wait until they do something. We can still fight them.’

‘Not with the princess here. We’ve been instructed to keep her safe. If they come for me, I can handle them.’

‘No you can’t. Take her with you while I hold them off.’

‘Protect her,’ I repeated. Leana needed no further command.

We separated.

Dashing through the crowds, I ran down another road entirely, a much quieter street. I drew my short sword.

A large-set man suddenly blocked off my route, immediately stopping my momentum.

Another man slammed into me from behind, but I managed to stay on my feet.

‘What do you want?’ I asked, stepping backwards, now and then checking what was behind me so as not to trip.

No response came. Another three bodies filled the street. There were five of them in all. Two were holding cudgels. Another two stood at the far end, sealing me into the street. All wore scarves across their mouths. My blade was now firmly poised.

The surrounding buildings offered no escape routes: no open doorways, no passageways, no cellar, nothing that I could use to lever myself up over a wall — merely bland whitewashed buildings.

‘Make your move. Let’s get this over with.’

They advanced another step and I tried to take in the details: each one was garbed in deliberately poor and drab clothing, as if trying to disguise who they really were. Their boots were well made, their bodies well nourished. These people were not typical street thugs.

The first man came at me; I blocked his arm. I managed to scrape my blade across his ribs and, while he paused in pain, I slammed my head into his nose. He fell backwards, cudgel clattering to the ground; I kicked it to one side. Immediately another two came, simultaneously, slamming their clubs towards my legs. I managed to avoid the arc of one, but the other connected with my hamstring and I collapsed onto my knees, clawing at the cobbles. Two of them grabbed my arms and held them behind my back.

Blow after blow slammed into my stomach, and my face.

A punch to the neck and I could barely breathe. Pain pulsed through my body. I remained conscious for long enough to see my own blood splatter across the ground.

Bright colours passed through my eyelids.