Drakenfeld (5 page)

Already I felt calm in her presence. The noises of the city fell away and from beyond the double doors came scents of incense. A serene priestess dressed in white silk greeted me in the entrance
way; she asked if I could wait inside until the pontiff was prepared to see me, so I thanked her and went in.

The marble floor glittered under candlelight as people drifted past in whispered conversation. Crimson drapes hung on the walls and within small alcoves bronze statues of Polla’s
other-world husbands stood. Incense, flowers or small blood offerings lay at their feet. On the side I could see a resplendent edition of the Book of Wisdom, a large text that contained details on
how best to explore and interact with the world, as well as speculation on the movement of the stars and of plants and creatures that had not yet made it to Vispasia.

The senior pontiff arrived, a slender, aged man with sunken cheekbones, a minor hunch and garbed in a red robe. I returned his gracious greeting. He regarded me with a pity I didn’t feel
was strictly necessary.

‘We did not expect you so soon,’ he announced.

‘I took a ship rather than coming across land.’

‘Would you like to see your father now?’

‘Please.’

‘Come, Polla has preserved him well. The rituals are nearly over. His ashes will be ready for burial in four days.’

Together we descended to the subterranean levels beneath the temple, and entered a small chamber halfway down a dark and cold corridor that, even though it probably had little public traffic,
was every bit as ornate as the temple above. Inside, the pontiff lit several candles and there in front of me, wrapped in layers of thin, resin-covered cloth, was my father’s body.

I had seen many corpses in my lifetime including, as a young boy, that of my own mother. I did not know what to feel. I became strangely numb, void of thought. I simply stared, trying to connect
my knowledge of my father to the body before me.

‘When was he brought here?’ I asked.

‘About twenty days ago,’ the pontiff replied.

They had done a good job of halting the decay and bad odour. ‘And where was he found?’

‘In his offices, not too far from here. A member of the cohorts stopped by and found him slumped over his desk – he raised the alarm initially, and our physician arrived
first.’

‘What was his name – the man in the cohort?’

‘Brellus, I believe, but he died three days later trying to evacuate a building that was on fire.’

I glanced at the priest, saddened for the loss of life, but frustrated that I couldn’t talk with this Brellus.

‘Was there anything suspicious about the scene in my father’s office?’

‘The matter has been looked into—’

‘By the cohorts?’

‘Yes, and our physician. No signs of a disturbance, no markings on the body. Our physician suggests this was an unfortunate occurrence and concludes that it was his heart that failed
him.’

My father’s face appeared far older than I remembered – his time-worn lines, saggy skin and white hair. Decay will do that to a body, of course. I placed my hand to his ice-cold
cheek and withdrew it as if it had burned me. Here lay the great man of the Court of the Sun Chamber, a man whose name travelled further than mine could ever hope to. Suddenly it didn’t seem
to matter so much. What precisely was the point in competing with the dead?

‘Your brother, Marius, visited us,’ the pontiff whispered.

‘Did he?’ I grunted. ‘I didn’t even know he was in Tryum.’

‘He is not. After a few months living here, he decided he’d had enough. He came here, very briefly, to pay his respects. But he’s since left the city.’

‘I’m sure he has.’

‘He had hoped to still be in your father’s will, but there were only a few trinkets for him.’

‘What can he expect?’ I grunted. ‘They hated each other.’

The priest’s sad expression almost made me feel sorry for Marius. The man’s sense of pity was beginning to become too much.

‘They tried to heal things, so I understand. People change. Meanwhile,’ he continued, ‘you received the property in full. Your brother also said for us to wait for you to
return before your father’s full burial.’

‘That was . . . kind of him.’ I glanced over the shape of the body, then beneath the cloth. Though it wasn’t always easy to tell after twenty days of death, there was no
obviously large gut, nothing to suggest he had succumbed to the finer things in life such as overeating.

‘Your people say it was definitely his heart?’

‘You find this hard to believe?’

‘He always kept in good shape, exercised regularly and ate well – he’d been like that all his life.’

‘Who knows why the gods decide to take us,’ the pontiff replied. ‘His funeral will be in a few days, once we continue the rituals here to see his soul is at peace. The
necessary arrangements and notifications have already been made.’

‘Oh . . .’ I fumbled around for a purse of money. ‘How much should the donations be?’

The pontiff waved for me to relax. ‘It has all been paid for by the administration of the Sun Chamber. You will be notified before his body is to be burned. We are reading the stars each
evening, waiting for an auspicious alignment.’

‘And then?’

‘After that, once we allow his ashes to be collected, it will be another day or so before you may have them to place within the family mausoleum.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘I’m staying at his – my – house, should you need to find me.’

It was reassuring that my father would receive the dignity bestowed upon his office, but now that I had seen his body, something did not sit right.

With a head full of sorrow, I walked back to my residence alone, speeding through the streets now, passing the bars and taverns with their oil lamps, past the youths clustering in alleyways, and
through the emptying plaza in which wind-blown litter skittered across the flagstones.

And when I eventually arrived home, there was a visitor waiting for me.

‘I’m Senator Veron,’ he said, rising from being draped across a couch. ‘You might have heard of me.’

We gripped each other’s forearms in the formal Detratan greeting. He looked only a few years older than me, forty summers to his name at the most, and rather young for a senator.
Veron’s bronzed skin and athletic figure were also not typical of those who spent most of their time in shaded rooms arguing politics, but I’m sure his good looks didn’t do any
harm come election time. We stood approximately the same height, and where my eyes were brown his were a startling sky blue. His long face was handsome in the classical way, though his hair was
beginning to recede a little. His easy, confident manner disarmed me momentarily; that was, until the quality of his gold-trimmed cloak reminded me once again that he was a politician. His smile
seemed well practised.

‘So. The son returns.’ Veron’s voice was remarkably crisp, and I couldn’t trace a hint of dialect. He stared at me with great intensity, trying to read my expression to
see what I made of him. ‘A Sun Chamber official who’s both a Drakenfeld and easy on the eye,’ he continued. ‘I’ll have to watch you if you go near the Regallum
district – politicians are naturally wary of handsome professionals like yourself. You tend to win over crowds and usurp us; which, to be fair, is exactly what any of us would do in your
position.’

‘There’s not much danger of me heading there so long as everyone’s behaving themselves,’ I said. ‘It’s been weeks since I arrested a politician.’

‘That’s the spirit.’ Veron slapped me on the shoulder before producing a leather scroll tube, which he’d been carrying in his bag. ‘This is from the Court of the
Sun Chamber. As senator for this district, it was sent to my address for me to place directly into your hands when you arrived. I’m guessing your people don’t trust
messengers.’

‘It could have been that they wanted you to be present when I read it. Any idea what it’s about?’

‘Sadly I worship the wrong gods to be able to read a sealed scroll – I’ve asked Trymus often enough, but as far as founder gods go he’s not been particularly
helpful.’ Veron indicated that I open it, and he turned to regard a fresco to grant me some privacy to read.

I broke the seal, opened up the tube and pulled out the letter.

Tibus had ordered the move – high praise indeed, coming from one of four commissioners, a high rank in the Sun Chamber.

‘Good news, I trust?’ Veron said.

‘I appear to have a new job.’

‘My congratulations.’ The senator placed his strong hand on my back once again.

‘Please, where are my manners,’ I said. ‘You must take a drink with me.’

‘I won’t say no if you have any wine,’ he replied.

I hastily called for Bellona to see if there was any around. She shuffled away bowing to rustle up some refreshments while I urged her yet again not to call me master.

‘It’s always wise to keep your servants in their place.’ Senator Veron nodded to me as if he’d supplied me with some profound advice.

‘I’m fairly informal when it comes to such things. I’ve never had a servant before. Besides, angry staff will often be the first to help guide a knife into a cruel
master’s back. I saw it happen often enough in Venyn City.’

‘A wild and adventurous place, so they tell me. You must tell me of your time there. I thrive on tales of far-away cities. The Senate can be rather dull at times – especially once
Senator Chastra gets into full flow.’

We took our seats on a curved settee overlooking the fountain in the garden, and sipped on watered wine and sweet snacks. The evening was humid; the smell of vegetation was pungent. In the
distance were the sounds of the city, the constant low hum of a thousand voices. Lanterns and oil lamps surrounded us, casting a mellow light. I felt myself starting to relax.

‘This food is remarkably good,’ I breathed, gesturing for him to help himself to the snacks.

‘Not for me,’ Veron replied. ‘I’m looking after my health.’ He patted his stomach.

‘Very wise,’ I replied, but consumed two of them anyway. At the back of my mind was Leana’s voice berating me.

‘I knew your father, Calludian, reasonably well,’ Veron said. ‘I’ve not been in the Senate all that long, just a few years, but I see to the needs of citizens from this
neighbourhood, so our paths crossed now and then. His death was a great shock to us all. He will be missed. The man knew a thing or two about the world, as well as where the good wines come
from.’ Veron paused, with a gentle smile on his face. ‘I was there the day he caught Saludus, the priest murderer, after the king tasked the Sun Chamber to help find him. At the time
the city was living in fear as body after body was left hanging in public places. People were talking about the vengeance of gods and all sorts of devilry. It turned out not to be so.’

Again, another reminder of his incredible deeds, making me feel once again inferior and in awe. ‘I remember when I was young all the cases he worked on seemed to affect the city profoundly
in one way or another.’

‘That’ll be your memory playing tricks on you. I’m sure it wasn’t always like that – recently he was often buried in administration and all those annoying little
concerns of the great unwashed. You’ll start receiving them soon enough. I’m surprised the Sun Chamber puts up with it, reporting to royals as you do.’

‘We get a lot of our funding through kind royal donations, as is tradition, though of course we own a lot of land, and make plenty of money to pay for ourselves.’

‘Powerful indeed. Who keeps an eye on you lot then? What happens when one of your own officers misbehaves?’ He was clearly amused at this notion.

‘All I meant was that we don’t need royals to give us large donations these days.’

‘Clever. Less dependence on the royals.’

‘Yes, but it means royals can tax their people far less, and we’re responsible to the people of Vispasia every bit as much as any king or queen. Though a king could ask for our help,
generally we judge for ourselves what may be for the good of Vispasia. It just so happens that royals, too, are interested in the same things we are. Peace and stability.’

‘And profit,’ Veron remarked, smiling to himself. ‘It’s all quite politicized.’

‘Bureaucracy, more than anything,’ I replied, but wanted to change the subject. ‘I don’t suppose you know what my father was working on, before he passed away?’