Retribution

A Place to Stay

It was an interesting state of affairs. Why would someone sever the bishop’s arm? And, as Leana had pointed out, why had they not taken the bangle? We had established that whoever killed him did not care for such trinkets, which suggested they were of a status not in need of the money the bangle might bring. If that was the case, it limited our search to a small stratum of the city, though I was cautious about jumping to any conclusions at this point.

What intrigued me in particular was the notion of throwing the pieces of his arm over the wall. Such a gesture was deliberate and not a discreet way of doing things. Yet, if a relatively wealthy person had been responsible, they would not necessarily have thrown the pieces from the poorer side of the wall, in the Kuvash Prefecture — the pieces of the arm might simply have been left there, waiting to be found. They might even have been dropped in a curious accident.

During my conversation with Leana we speculated on the possible reasons for placing the pieces there. It was a signal, perhaps. It was just as likely that it could have been a warning to someone on the other side — a threatening gesture to the temple. The next step would be to visit the bishop’s temple and find out as much as we could about him, but not today — the hour was late and we needed to find lodgings for our time in Kuvash.

Sulma Tan had issued us with a piece of paper that declared we were permitted to stay within the Sorghatan Prefecture. It suggested that people were not free to move between the two prefectures. The queen’s second secretary advised us to head to a guest house for wealthy businessmen who passed through Kuvash. A few streets away, she told us, it was one of the more pleasant places in the city for a traveller to spend time.

It was run by Jejal, a rotund man in his fifties. He walked with a limp and his left eye was a different colour to his right. His grey hair was long yet frizzy, and he wore a very bright tunic, much in the Detratan style, though it was a somewhat cheaper variation. He was paler than the average person of Koton and his gaze was perpetually wild and promising, as if he was someone who knew secrets but wasn’t particularly good at keeping them.

‘They ask me if I want someone from the Sun Chamber here, and I say to them, yes please.’

‘Who’s them?’ I asked.

‘You know.’ Jejal gave a shrug. ‘Authorities. Clerics. Administrators.’

Sulma Tan’s influence, I thought.

Jejal continued saying, ‘I know they pay you people well and trustworthy coin is hard to come by.’

We carried our own bags up the narrow, wooden stairway. Ink portraits had been arranged up the wall following the ascent, and there was a strange smell coming from the kitchens. ‘Do you not have many trustworthy people stay here? I was under the impression this establishment attracted honourable people.’

‘Oh yes! I like to keep my guest list full of honourable people, sure, but you can never tell, eh? Merchants can be unscrupulous bastards at the best of times. Give me coin that isn’t pure gold or silver. Melted down.’ He paused and shook his head. ‘This prefecture is a respectable place these days. So you are most welcome here, both you and your wife.’

I smirked knowingly at Jejal’s common assumption, which Leana had long since ceased to find amusing. ‘She’s not my wife.’

‘Ah, your lover — don’t worry, I do not ask questions on such matters — I know better! There’s trustworthy and trustworthy, eh.’

‘No,’ I said as we paused on the corner of the next floor. ‘She’s not my lover either.’

‘Your slave?’ He squinted one eye, as if attempting to comprehend a piece of art. ‘Where’s she from?’

Leana snapped, ‘I am slave to no one.’

‘Your bodyguard?’ Jejal asked.

‘That’s as close as you’re going to get,’ I replied. ‘And she’s from Atrewe.’

‘Good artists from Atrewe, so they say,’ Jejal said. ‘I had a dealer here once trying to make a payment in original paintings and vases, but such things are wasted on me. I enjoy basic necessities — good money, good food, good wine and good. . Well, bad women. Balance is everything.’

‘I’m sure your wife wouldn’t agree,’ I said.

He stared at me incredulously. ‘How could you know I was married?’

‘Your recent guest-house plaque — a local licence of sorts, I suppose — was nailed to the wall downstairs above the door, bearing both your names and last year’s date. You might want to renew it, by the way, if the authorities come to check.’

Jejal grunted and turned away. He kept on muttering to himself as we walked along the corridor, deciding not to pursue the conversation any further.

Eventually he stopped at a door and showed us to our room. ‘This is all I have for you,’ he announced. ‘It is, I hope, enough to please such people of high culture, eh? Please, step inside.’

It was much larger than expected — there was a large four-poster bed, with sumptuous green and red silk cloth, large oil lamps, a desk where I could work, a large couch under a small shelf full of books, and a window overlooking a quiet part of the city. The floorboards were polished and there was a wonderful citrus scent coming from somewhere.

Jejal was not going to offer this room cheaply, and as soon as he saw my signs of happiness he quoted something a little more than the amount I’d anticipated. But given that I’d recently sold my property in Tryum, I had enough money for now, so I readily accepted. The Sun Chamber would presently forward on my wages and any interim expenses in the form of a credit note, so the situation was comfortable enough for the time being.

‘You honour me with your decision to stay in our humble guest house,’ Jejal said, walking to the door. ‘A small deposit of a small gold coin worth seventy kron is all that is required — the rest we can settle upon departure. Food is not included.’

‘Thank you.’ Placing my bags down by the window, I casually regarded the wide street below. Seventy kron was about ten pecullas in Detratan money, which wasn’t unreasonable, so I reached into my pocket and handed over the money. Jejal scrutinized the coin in the light of the window.

After he appeared satisfied, I asked, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard of a man called Tahn Valin, have you?’

‘The missing bishop?’ Jejal looked up at me without surprise. ‘Yes, who has not heard of him?’

‘Who was he exactly?’

Jejal gave a shrug. ‘I cannot tell you who he was as a person — I don’t know priests in that way. But he was a much admired man. I saw him preach once. He was calm and intelligent and I liked his delivery. Not one of the great orators of our time, but he got inside people’s heads — that’s what a bishop is supposed to do, isn’t it? But he did a lot of work with those more unfortunate than us. When he wasn’t preaching he was giving alms to the poor. He was not involved in corruption like priests you might find elsewhere. That is all I can tell you about him. I can’t understand where he has gone and why he would abandon his temple.’ He paused as if recalling what it was that the Sun Chamber did. ‘That what you’re here for? Have you come to find him?’

‘I’m interested in his whereabouts,’ I admitted — which wasn’t entirely untrue.

‘Say no more!’ Jejal whispered with some urgency, and proceeded out of the room.

Listening to his steps fading downstairs, I turned to regard the room. ‘Well, we seem to have done rather well. Not as good as my home in Detrata, but not as bad as our small dwelling in Venyn City, that’s for sure.’

Leana made for the large couch and placed her belongings on the floor beside it.

‘If you want, you can take the bed instead,’ I said, ‘you’re more than welcome to.’

‘You know how I feel about comfort,’ she replied. ‘It dulls the senses. Blunts your wits.’

‘I’m only being polite,’ I replied.

‘So you believe what he said, about the bishop?’

‘I see no reason why not. It was interesting that his death has not been formally announced to the city. Sulma Tan was convinced the man was dead, so surely the issue must have been mentioned to the people by now.’

‘As she reminds us, she is a busy woman.’

‘She is. Well, we should first find the bishop’s temple and take a look around there.’

Out of the window, down below, a couple of carts were being drawn by hand from the marketplace, which was starting to pack up for the night. It was going to be a clear evening. The last of the day’s sunlight glimmered on the red roof tiles, which were of a similar sloping style to those found in Tryum. In fact, a lot of the buildings here appeared to be familiar — as if the designers had constantly looked to Tryum for inspiration when they constructed this city. There were even long colonnades and column-fronted buildings just like at home. Statues and busts adorned the fronts of buildings. More than once a fresco could be perceived through an open doorway. The temples were Detratan styled, too, and not like the tall, wooden, spired structures we saw throughout the Kotonese countryside on our way here.

‘This city is trying too hard to impress,’ I commented out loud.

‘Those on the other side of the wall would see things differently,’ Leana replied bluntly. ‘For them it does not seem so impressive.’