A Charm for Draius: A Novel of the Broken Kaskea (The Broken Kaskea Series Book 1) (13 page)

“A
Meran-Viisi King
, whom the Pettaja are sworn to obey, issued an edict and the Pettaja ignored it.” Perinon’s teeth clenched, and he made a physical effort to relax.

“King Kotiin had much to deal with in those days, and the Pettaja-Viisi petitioned to reverse his decision. We should research records of those proceedings, then act accordingly.” Leika shrugged. “We can compensate the Meran-Viisi, if you wish, for the materials that were stolen.”

“This isn’t a lineal matter. Matriarchal justice will not suffice here, when the King’s Law has been offended.”

“As Pettaja, our duty is to protect knowledge, not destroy it.” Leika’s words were mechanical, a mantra.

“As Meran-Viisi, our duty is governance.” Aracia spoke for the first time and all three Pettaja matriarchs looked at her. Aracia finished coolly, “And all lineages must, first and foremost, uphold the Crown and the King’s Law. Otherwise, all would be chaos and we would resemble a Groygan council.”

Perinon didn’t know if matriarchs passed messages with their eyes, but he could tell the balance of power in the room had suddenly tipped in his favor. He didn’t need the Phrenii near to read the uncertainty in the Pettaja-Kolme matriarch’s face, or to see that Leika was furiously recalculating her options.

“What would you have us do, Sire?” The Pettaja-Kolme matriarch squeaked out her question and received a sharp look from Leika. The older woman bowed her head, giving the floor back to Lady Pettaja-Viisi Leika.

“Since this falls under the King’s Law, then perhaps we should take this up before your magistrates,” Leika said.

He suppressed a smile. Leika’s threat was false. She wouldn’t allow the Pettaja to be seen as offenders of the King’s Law, not in the public courts. The Pettaja lineages provided historians, tutors, and researchers of law. But, while Leika was concerned about her lineal reputation, Perinon worried about panic among his people as well as the agitation of the Phrenii. In particular, the Phrenii didn’t want their young charges—essentially, all the children of Tyrra—threatened by the dark blot of necromancy. Perinon’s dreams were filled with their fears, their experience with Nherissa, as well as with dripping blood, blood on the Kaskea…

With effort, he focused on Leika. “There is nothing to question. The King’s Law can be subject to interpretation by my magistrates, but it is
my
understanding that rules. Kotiin’s edict stands as written: any materials regarding necromancy are dangerous, and my Guard will make every attempt to collect those works and destroy them. This is for the safety—”

“Aracia, this is ridiculous. Are we to be ruled by old superstitions and legends? Magic is lost, if it ever existed. This is a sham, a mockery of the law—obviously, this is about Meran-Viisi control.”

Leika had interrupted him, and turned to Aracia. It was the ultimate rudeness and worse, this was a calculated insult intended to play upon boyhood memories. He’d expected her reaction and attitude toward elemental magic. This was why he’d planned a demonstration, without warning Lady Aracia. The matriarchy needed a reminder of the power of the Phrenii. He fanned the ember inside him, and let his anger take over while, mentally, he called Mahri.

“
Enough!
” he roared, standing up. On the dais, he towered over the matriarchs as the Phrenii flowed out of the anteroom to stand behind him. Perinon could feel them: Mahri, flanked by Dahni and Jhari. Spirit, Water, and Air, easily available.

Wind whipped his cloak about him, and his anger pushed for more. The women standing in front of him staggered as a wave of wind hit them. They raised their arms to shield their faces as rain drove down on them. Wild musical tones played throughout the large room. At the far end, even the King’s Guard raised their shields and cloaks to protect themselves from needles of driving water.

“This is about whether life-light or death magic shall hold reign. And, make no mistake, life-light’s elemental magic still exists.” His voice boomed and the stone floor vibrated. Sahvi, earth and influence, was now in his grasp, even though Sahvi was leagues away. The lamps on the walls flared wildly and were shattered by Famri, also far from this room. Oil dripped down from the broken lamps, floated on top of a layer of water, and suddenly flames danced about.

Every king who had been in rapport with the Phrenii was provided some elemental power, according to which phrenic element he was attuned. Valos was attuned to Dahni, water and healing, making his death by drowning understandable only to someone who had experienced phrenic rapport. Perinon’s father had been attuned to Sahvi, giving him influence and control of earth and stone.

Perinon, however, was unique: the only king ever attuned to Mahri, the phrenic element of Spirit. He sensed every element about him and he could control them all. As the power surged through him, he could easily forget that it wasn’t his to call at a whim, or his to control. The power belonged to the Phrenii, and could only be used with their cooperation. Today, the Phrenii were willing to support him. No lives would be taken, and only egos would be wounded.

“Necromancy is the antithesis of life-light. Necromancy interferes with the journey of souls and saps life force from the Void.” His words shook the hall, clearly heard by all over the wind and tones of magic. The matriarchs had gone to their knees, huddling to protect their bodies and faces. The Pettaja-Kolme matriarch was crying, her hand tightly pressed over her mouth.

Perinon made a sweeping gesture with his arm. The double doors at the end of the room, made from heavy oak planks as thick as a man’s hand, shattered into splinters and flew into the outside hall. Luckily, no one had been standing outside, but the effect sobered him. He stopped the power flowing through him.

There was instant silence, except for the sound of oil dripping from lamps and the muffled sobs of the Pettaja-Kolme matriarch as she tried to regain control. Water and oil pooled about the hall but the flames were gone, instantly extinguished. The smell of smoke mingled with the tang of lamp oil. Except for him, everyone in the room was on their knees, wet and bedraggled. His secretary’s hair was plastered over the side of his face, covering one eye. The matriarchs’ fine clothing clung to their bodies; their court dress was ruined.

Perinon, on the other hand, felt exuberant. The matriarchy always chose the male who would hold the Tyrran Crown. These women had placed Perinon on the throne at too young an age, stripping his life of normalcy and requiring him to bind his lifeblood to the Kaskea. Now they could regret their decision. He had just proven he was no mere puppet, and worth more consideration than the seed between his legs. He couldn’t see Leika’s face, but Aracia’s lips were tightly drawn together and her gaze cast downward.

“This is my ruling, regarding the Pettaja.” Out of the corner of his eye, Perinon saw his secretary scrabbling to find something dry to write upon. Leika’s head jerked, but he continued relentlessly, “All Pettaja lineages will support the City Guard’s attempt to find the proscribed documents. They will open
any and all of their records
, as required by the City Guard. If the City Guard incurs additional expense in finding these documents, the Pettaja-Viisi will be fined to compensate for their costs. Once the documents are found, the Pettaja will assist in their destruction.”

He scooped up the box that contained only three—
there should be four
—shards of the Kaskea, before stepping lightly down from the dais. Moving around the Pettaja matriarchs, he stopped beside Aracia, also on her knees. “Lady Aracia.”

She looked up, braided hair dripping, lips pressed tightly in disapproval.

“This hall must be cleaned and repaired.”

Her lips became thinner.

“Repairs are to be paid by the Pettaja-Viisi,” he added.

Aracia’s face relaxed. She nodded and Perinon knew, in this small detail, he had pleased her. He walked out of the receiving hall, followed by the three Phrenii. None of his Guard detail followed him.

•••

After Draius and Lornis left Andreas on the street with the watch and were going up the stairs to the reported murder scene, Lornis started chuckling. Draius looked at him suspiciously.

“You were pretty scary with Andreas,” he said. “I couldn’t believe your voice. It gave me chills.”

“Well, I think I’m the one with a chill. My throat is scratchy.” She coughed.

The murdered man was Purje-Kolme Vanhus and he’d been found above a small office that purported to assess cargo for export, as well as assessing antiques. The Purje-Kolme were entrenched in the exporting business, and provided Tyrra with Naval Guard members. This time, there was lineal support at the scene.

“The body can’t be released, not until I make an examination,” Norsis was saying to a young woman on the landing.

“It’s our right to place his ashes and bones in the reliquary, and with all possible speed.” The woman obviously represented the Purje-Kolme.

“Ah, Officer Draius, we just sent for you.” Relief softened the coroner’s face. After all, it wasn’t his job to interface with the family.

“Norsis is correct. I can’t release the body until he’s examined it, which means he must take the body to the morgue at the hospital.” Draius took over, and Norsis went back up the stairs to the rooms. Lornis speedily followed, apparently preferring the examination of a dead body to hassling with a matriarchal agent.

The young woman focused her cool glance on Draius, assessing her as the next troublesome official who had to be handled. She had to be a matriarch in training. “By what authority do you hold Vanhus’s body?”

“By the King’s Law.” Draius stood up straight so she measured a head above the young woman. “Coroner inspection is required in a murder, and the City Guard must control the area, and the body, until the coroner is finished.”

“Will they subject his body to heat or fire during this inspection?”

Draius saw the problem: the Purje-Kolme, or at least their matriarch, must be deeply spiritual. They were worried about the release of the soul to the Stars. “Absolutely not,” she said. “Norsis will do nothing that would cause release of his soul. You will be given all the remains for the departing pyre.”

She didn’t think it wise to tell the young woman that Vanhus probably didn’t have his appendages any more, or all his organs. It also wasn’t spiritually relevant; not every part of the body needed to get to the pyre. Just enough ashes and bones had to be collected to claim a spot inside the walls of the lineal reliquary.

After placating the Purje-Kolme representative, Draius saw the murder scene for herself. There was a difference here from the two previous scenes, because Vanhus knew what was coming. There were signs of a struggle: furniture was broken and plaster had fallen from the ceiling and walls. Vanhus was a big, working man and he put up quite a fight, but the end result was the same for him as for Reggis and Tellina.

Lornis was more comfortable than he had been with the previous murders; he was logging evidence and avoiding the body without turning green.

“Draius, you have to run these people to ground,” Norsis said. “I’m becoming overworked. Are we to expect another butchery in two days?”

“I don’t know.” She tried to respond in the same light tone, but her spirits were flagging.
How will I stop this, when I can’t even connect the victims?

“Well, I hope they’re killing their own.” Norsis grunted as he rolled the body slightly.

Draius and Lornis exchanged a glance and she knew he was thinking of the SRS, but she couldn’t picture them as the murderers. Where Andreas and his cohorts were like children, the people who committed these murders were the adults. Andreas really didn’t have a clue about necromancy, but the murderers appeared to be accurately following Nherissa’s evil footsteps.

“Vanhus could be connected through Purje-Kolme shipping,” she said. “Unfortunately, I expect a struggle with the Purje-Kolme when it comes to getting any business records.”

“Someone different made this initial incision.” Norsis was closely examining the torso, and Draius crouched over the body to see. Norsis pointed out the beginning and ending points of the eviscerating cut. “The cutter was not as skilled in medical knowledge—the previous victims had the cut starting exactly below the rib cage. This cut was accidentally started too high.”

“Perhaps Vanhus struggled more than the other victims.” She peered at the mangled torso.

“No, they nailed down his hands and feet securely, and the bruising shows heavy pressure was put on his arms and legs. It took several people to immobalize him.”

Lornis made a sound from across the room, but when she looked at him, he was studiously examining the items on a table. He was drawing something, perhaps a diagram, using sharpened charcoal.

“Different murderers. Several people.” Draius pondered. She hadn’t made information about the previous murders public, so an unrelated set of murderers couldn’t be mimicking these details.

After the missing parts of the body were recorded, and Norsis had made all his notes and drawings regarding the orientation of the body, the watch took the body down to the waiting wagon.

“No vials, or anything that looks like poison.” Lornis watched her look carefully about the room and memorize the details.

“Yes. When it comes to the use of quick-acting poison, I’m beginning to think the first murder was an anomaly.”

“After seeing Vanhus’ size, I can’t see anyone making him drink or eat anything.” Lornis made a few more notes, then stowed everything in a satchel.

Draius lingered, hoping that Andreas had left after the body was loaded and taken to the morgue. She had no doubt he’d manage to get a look at the victim.

“Nothing else to check, so I’ll seal the rooms and office. It’ll keep the Purje-Kolme from cleaning up before we’re ready.” She tacked a seal of the King’s Law across the doors before going downstairs. Lornis followed.

At the bottom of the stairs, she opened the door to the street and stopped. The streets of Betarr Serasa were now clogged with a thick fog. A light breeze from the sea swirled the mist, but couldn’t push it away. Streetlights made a valiant effort to burn against the shroud, but they were losing the battle. More surprising than the weather, however, was the lone Phrenii standing in the street, without any children about it. The creature appeared to be waiting.