Retribution

The Koton Games

No matter what day it was, it could be guaranteed that somewhere in the Vispasian Royal Union there would be festivities taking place. Nearly always, either in a large city square or tucked away in a warren-like cave settlement, there would be various events held in honour of the gods, or in celebration of some profound moment in history.

Here on the outskirts of the city of Kuvash, there was a regular event held every thirty days in honour of Astran and Nastra, in which the finest archers, riders, sword fighters and wrestlers competed. Only now did I realize just how deeply held religious beliefs were in Koton. There were religious symbols carried on banners, depictions of the gods in horse and fish form to denote their presence on land and in the sea, and numerous priests intoned the words of their gods to the various groups who would pause to listen.

Surprisingly, the event was not held for the plentiful citizens of the city, but rather for those in the wealthier Sorghatan Prefecture. It didn’t stop huge crowds gathering along the sides of the roads, however, following the passage of the four dozen participants as if they were members of some victorious army. In Sun Chamber circles, such events were very well thought of — they were an outlet for the combative nature of people, quenching a thirst for war without any of the harsh realities of conflict. I suspected that financial aid was occasionally redirected via Sun Chamber assistance to ensure that games like this were a regular occurrence, in order that peace be maintained between nations, though I had not seen any evidence of the matter.

The combatants and the authorized spectators, all of whom were dressed in their fineries, with garlanded hair and bright dye on their faces, made their way along the road leading east from the city under the brilliant sunlight. The sharp hills shimmered in the distance and the river cut through the landscape undulating its way towards them. Grassland, grazed by thousands of animals, dominated the mile or two surrounding the city.

There was definitely an air of festivity among the gathered throng. Leana and I rode a little distance behind the queen who, to my surprise, did not opt for a carriage. She rode a resplendent black mare, without a saddle, and was dressed in relatively modest clothing for a royal — a sumptuously decorated leather breastplate fitted on top of a purple tunic. For this afternoon, Nambu would be required to ride alongside her mother, rather than be in the so-called safety of our company.

Our jubilant mass proceeded east at a leisurely pace.

The site of the games was in fact a series of large, well-kept circular green fields, bordered with tidy hedges as if these were manicured gardens rather than arenas in which people would fight. Little coloured flags marked boundaries, which became more defined as the crowds filed in. There was a central small stand constructed from stone, which could probably accommodate three or four hundred people. The blue banners of Koton, bound to several poles, snapped and rattled in the strong westerly breeze. Their colours were bold against the bright sky.

The stand paled in comparison to the massive Stadium of Lentus in Tryum, but it was a pleasant enough place for many to watch the proceedings. We were permitted into the royal enclave, while many of the others — people of good standing in the city — milled around the low hedgerows, taking their places in the small garden arenas to watch the events. We stood approximately twenty feet away from where the queen, Nambu, Sulma Tan, eunuchs, guards and various servants, looked down upon the afternoon’s unfolding events. Food was brought to many of the attendees on small silver plates. Soldiers chatted with insouciance as sword fighters began their battles, arrows thudded into targets, and wrestlers took their bizarre angular stances.

It was all very prim and proper. Polite ripples of applause filtered out across the fields as the participants began to assemble. The day only got warmer. A constant yet gentle hum of chatter echoed in the grounds. This was all very civilized. However, to me it was a waste of valuable time, which could be better spent on the investigation.

Now and then the crowd would rise as finalists for various skills moved before the main stand, and the queen and her daughter would file through the throng in order to exchange pleasantries. That aspect was very informal — such a thing would never happen at the Stadium of Lentus, unless under very special circumstances. The fact that the king would have been standing some distance from the chariot racers, and would have seen himself as a different level of being entirely, would have prevented that. The queen appeared to thrive on being seen as someone at one with her people — though admittedly it was simply a large inner circle of her people. When I asked Sulma Tan if there were any politicians present, she pointed out the Rukrid clan’s senators down below, alongside those of the Tahtar family. Both clans were garbed in resplendent silks of blue, red and purple, but the Rukrids’ clothing featured the family crest of a sickle and star. They were completely at ease with the day and their position below the queen. If there were any rivalries, they were not on display today. Perhaps that was the whole point of the games — to show that all was well with society.

‘Sulma Tan — in your census speech, something came to mind concerning Lydia Marinus. I have read elsewhere of discrepancies in population information.’

For a moment her usual calm countenance felt fragile. ‘My census gatherings are accurate.’

‘Oh, I’m not questioning how robust they are. Something piqued my curiosity. Do you think the discrepancies could be because of things like Lydia Marinus’ orphanage work? She must have taken many children out of official statistics, educating them and perhaps resettling them.’

Sulma Tan leaned in close to reply. ‘I have communicated with the operators of the orphanage, and they confirm well over a thousand children passed through Lydia’s unofficial channels over the years. Lydia donated handsomely to the orphanages.’

‘Grendor did too, if I recall.’

We gave each other a knowing look as another connection was confirmed. ‘A thousand children or more were bettered. The orphanages, which were happy that their capacity was expanded thanks to Lydia, suggest many became workers for her operations abroad as she sought to grow her businesses. The queen requested that the orphanage be set up two decades ago. She wanted to get children off the streets and looked after. Well, it seems that Lydia helped them even further by educating and reforming many of them.’

‘Lydia thought the census was a waste of resources,’ I remarked. ‘I would wager one reason was so that attention was not drawn to her reform work. It seems so strange that such honourable deeds are concealed.’

Sulma Tan merely gazed through the sun across the heads of the elite of Kotonese society. I remained unconvinced as to the discrepancies in the population. There remained many more who were unaccounted for.

While people drifted in and out of the garden areas, their hazy shadows began to lengthen. Men and women fought; some lost, some won, but there never seemed to be a loss of dignity. The aromas of foods caught my senses when the wind remained calm and I considered getting something to eat.

I was about to ask Leana if she, too, would like a snack, but paused upon seeing her expression of intense focus as she looked to her left, across the hundreds of faces in the stand.

‘Is everything all right?’ I asked.

‘No. There is a man, approximately your height and build, though of a slightly paler complexion, moving ever-closer to Nambu. He has been watching her for some time — though I cannot say for how long precisely. Long enough that I have noticed, and I can confirm he does not look trustworthy.’

‘I can’t quite make him out. .’ I tried to follow her gaze, but she quite rightly did not want to point at him in case he spotted us.

‘He is standing under the banner pole nearest the lower step, looking away from the events.’

‘Oh yes, there he is.’ The man was tall with blond hair, and a gaunt face, wearing what looked to be a fitted leather breastplate and a black cloak.

‘We should probably get a bit closer.’

No sooner had I spoken, when the crowd all rose and applauded as another pair of finalists — two bare-chested and enormous wrestlers — moved before the stand and stomped their feet into the grassy mud opposite each other.

‘Go quickly,’ I urged, and we shoved our way through the great and good of Koton, apologizing as we went.

We were nearing the banner pole where we had seen the man, but he had now moved.

‘He is higher up,’ Leana said, ‘nearer the queen.’

‘No, the queen is further down there.’ I pointed to where she was speaking with the wrestlers. ‘He’s going after Nambu.’

We changed course and headed right for him, but he was using the opportunity of the moment to move quickly up the steps of the stand, right towards where Nambu was seated and to where the queen was returning.

Leana vanished amid the throng as she sprinted nimbly towards him, leaving me to continue ungracefully pushing my way there.

I caught a glimpse of his leap towards Nambu.

Leana intercepted him and engaged in close-quarter combat. A scream came from the crowd. People turned their attention to the two individuals fighting on the upper step of the stand, pushing each other against the waist-high stone wall that was between them and a forty-foot drop.

I reached Nambu just as the eunuch, Brell, ushered her to safety.

First Leana disabled the attacker’s knife arm by smacking his wrists repeatedly against the wall until the blade fell over the side. Then, while pinning down his wrist, she stamped sideways into his stomach before slamming his head upwards with her knee. Still he attempted to fight back, losing all sense of control now as he flailed his arms. The crowd watched, curiously silent, as Leana finished him off with blows to his legs.

As if realizing that he would be captured, he leapt head first over the side of the stand. With a collective shriek, the crowd, myself among their mass, surged towards the wall and peered over to see if he had survived.

The man’s body lay sprawled and broken on the stone below.

If he had landed on the grass a few feet to one side, he might have survived, but a trickle of blood began to emerge, suggesting his head had connected with the hard surface.

Leana moved next to me, breathless and regaining her composure, sweat glistening on her brow. There was a small cut to her hand, but aside from that she looked well, and soon she had regained her breath.

‘Are you hurt?’

‘No,’ she replied. ‘He was very good though. I am sorry if he is dead. I tried not to kill him. Though at least it is not my fault this time, no?’

Down below, a few spectators had moved to the side of the body, crouching down and gesturing over it.

‘We should get down there and take a look,’ I said, ‘before that lot mess with him too much.’

‘It will take us just as long to get down there as it did to get across the stand,’ Leana replied, indicating the thick mass of bodies that stood before us. ‘Is it not interesting that, despite all the civilized competitions that have been going on today, this lot are still far more interested in the sight of a corpse.’