Retribution

Departure

In the pink light of dawn Dorval saw us off from the stables, a wry smile on his face that could have been taken to mean any number of things.

It was difficult not to imagine what scenes might have gone on here at the stables, where the murder victims had been taken. Even now the military had closed down Sojun’s workshop, with just one yawning soldier standing outside the door, rubbing his hands in the morning chill. If I knew Sulma Tan at all, later in the day there would be an operation being conducted down below.

I was sad to never get a chance to speak to Sojun and Elliah again, or even Brell. There was much that I could have uncovered, so much more I wanted to ask about the details, but events were conspiring against me and it was important that the affair was concluded with local powers at the helm. I had carried out my orders — to investigate the murders.

The lanes of the prefecture began to become busy again: traders trundling out with carts to the marketplaces, various coloured awnings being extended over pole-strung meats. By the time we passed through the prefecture gates, the sounds of prices being chanted could already be heard. A priest began to sprinkle white petals along the road behind us.

It would be some time before we arrived in Free City, where we were scheduled to liaise at the conclave of officers from the Sun Chamber. There we would discover our instructions as to where to go next, no doubt, but once again we moved our lives on, never settling, never putting down roots. And this is how we would exist indefinitely.

We rode through the poorer prefecture where, after being in the Sorghatan section for so long, everything was so crammed in and haphazardly constructed. Presently, as we continued on our way, the buildings became lower, cruder and spaced further apart. The city began to return to something more ancient, and a true representation of who these people were: a nomadic culture that had tried to settle. This was the real Koton, the one the queen tried to hide in her own prefecture.

Two or three miles away from the city and yurts appeared on the open horizon. A warm wind rippled through the grassland, which extended as far as the eye could see.

‘You did not hand back the ring,’ Leana pointed out.

‘Yes, I did,’ I replied. ‘I placed them both on the cushion for the queen as evidence. You saw me do it.’

Leana shook her head. ‘I meant Sulma Tan’s ring, the one she gave you for access and command.’

‘Oh.’ I reached into my inner pocket and there it was.

‘You will feel obliged to return it to her one day,’ Leana said, ‘if I know you at all. Your sense of duty will conveniently strike.’

‘We will just have to see if Koton is still standing. But this reminds me. .’ I reached into my tunic and pulled out the purse. ‘She gave me this before I left and told me to open it on the road.’

‘Well, we are now on the road.’

After untying the string knot I emptied out the contents into my palm. There was a note, and inside the fold of paper was a ring. In fact, it was Bishop Tahn Valin’s ring, polished, and on a golden chain.

‘What does the note say?’

I read it out as we made our way.

‘She knew your seizures had stopped,’ Leana muttered.

Lost for words, I placed the chain around my neck and tucked the stone securely inside my shirt.

‘So you have a mysterious ring as a souvenir. I take it,’ Leana said, ‘that I am to mention its properties to no one?’

‘Even if you did,’ I replied, ‘I’m not sure anyone would believe you.’

Clouds began to roll in across the region, eventually bringing drizzle. Leana retrieved her wax coat from her baggage and I followed suit, and soon the rain intensified. Large muddy puddles formed in the road and the distant hills became lost. As we rode out along the main road past the last village, I peered back towards the distant city of Kuvash. A group of seven children were chasing each other excitedly, oblivious to the rain.

One of them, a black-haired lad in a brown shirt, suddenly slipped in the mud by the side of the road and his head struck a tree stump. His friends clustered around him. We could hear a few shrieks.

Leana and I dismounted and walked over to see if he was OK. He must have been only ten years old at the most, and had cracked open his skull on a sharp protrusion from the stump. Trickles of blood came down his broad cheeks, to mix with his tears and the rain. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly as throbs of pain passed through his body. The other six looked up to us for guidance, and a girl with short-cropped hair asked in Kotonese if we could help.

Perhaps this was a sign or a test from Polla, but as Leana began to bandage the injured child’s head with a strip of torn cloth, I had no hesitation in reaching into my shirt and retrieving the ring that Sulma Tan had given me. I made a double loop of the chain, and draped it over the child’s wounded head so that the ring fell just beneath his ragged collar. As his friends were still looking on, I whispered in a serious tone that the ring was magic, that it would help him, and that he was to tell no one. He squirmed a nod, fighting through the pain of his injury. Whether or not he believed me, I could not say.

We ordered the boy’s friends to help him walk home, to make sure he rested and drank plenty of water. With that, Leana and I mounted our horses once again.

‘Not a word,’ I said to Leana, as we edged forwards. I could see she was thinking how stupid I had been to give away the ring, but I felt an awful lot lighter for it no longer being upon my conscience.

‘You would not listen to me anyway,’ Leana muttered.

As our horses crested the hill, the rain easing off a little, I glanced back at the group of children. The injured boy was being helped along by two others, whose arms were around his shoulders. They had smiles on their faces and their raucous laughter travelled some distance. Whether or not it was all bravado, the boy seemed to be shrugging off his injury as all seven of the children entered a large wooden hut.

They had their whole lives ahead of them.