Retribution (Drakenfeld 2) (14 page)

‘He was like an uncle to me,’ Sulma Tan said.

‘Who was Grendor?’ The only reference I had heard of him so far was that he was a friend of the queen, and that she was thinking of trusting him to look after her daughter. He was obviously someone of importance.

‘Grendor of the Cape, that was his full title,’ she replied. ‘He was one of the queen’s oldest friends – she will be horrified by this. Moreover he was one of our greatest ever naval officers. He helped build a fleet so big that we were no longer laughed at by other nations – as we once were, being a nation more accustomed to horse travel. He led the very first surveys of our difficult coastline, and charted the thousand islands. Grendor was sixty summers old and retired from the navy long ago. He advised the queen on wider military strategy, though spent some of his time managing a shipping company. He cheered her up with jokes. Everyone loved his wide smiles. I’ll miss his laughter, and the way he’d diffuse our serious talk.’ She smiled. ‘He never could take me seriously – he said such seriousness was an affliction of younger people. When we got to his age, he said, hopefully we’d have learned to let go and laugh more.’

‘He’ll still be laughing up there when he faces Astran and Nastra,’ Duktan added. ‘Aye, still laughing.’

I waited a brief moment for everyone to pay their respects. It didn’t seem right to blunder in with my questions until everyone had had their chance to grieve. Leana and I stood back, waiting as the others peeled away one by one, until only Sulma Tan remained.

‘Where was Grendor’s body found?’ I asked.

‘Near to his house,’ she replied.

‘Could you describe the location for me?’

‘He lived in a large house near the centre of this prefecture,’ she said, ‘overlooking the new forum. It had only been constructed in the past year. It’s a very nice place. His wife, Borta—’

‘Nastra bless her,’ Duktan interrupted.

‘. . . found his body at the bottom of the stairwell,’ Sulma Tan continued. ‘It’s a public space, a very visible part of the prefecture. In fact it was Borta who sent an urgent message to us. One can only imagine what she’s going through.’

‘I’ll see to it that she’s looked after,’ Duktan said. ‘And his sons.’

‘I’d like to visit his home as soon as possible, but for now, if no one would be offended, I would like to see exactly what we are dealing with . . .’ I gestured to the flag that had been draped across him.

Duktan moved his arms forward, then paused – glancing at those around him. ‘Who will join me?’

I waited for them to reach their decisions, keen that my respect be noticed. Eventually all of them in unison peeled back the banner.

‘Blessings of both Astran and Nastra . . .’ Duktan breathed.

The body didn’t look like it was sixty years of age. Instead Grendor of the Cape had the build of a man far younger – in his forties perhaps. Had it been neatly combed, his greying hair would have reached his shoulders, but instead it was tousled and covered in blood. Grendor had received a head wound above his right ear, but that didn’t look severe enough to have killed him – it was more the kind of blow meant to knock him out. His finely made brown tunic had also become stained, though the cause of that was much more difficult to tell. It might have been blood, or muddied water. A quick sniff suggested the former.

Sulma Tan walked over to the side of the room to fetch a blade, then she handed it to Duktan to cut away his clothing. ‘I have done this once already recently,’ Sulma Tan said to him. ‘I do not possess the will to do it to Grendor.’

Slowly, methodically, Duktan cut away Grendor’s clothing, first revealing a bruised and bloodied torso. Then Duktan commenced cutting around the britches, down towards the dead man’s boots. The group gave off the occasional groan as more and more of his ruined and battered body was exposed. When Duktan had finally finished and revealed the hideous wounds in full, Leana and I moved in closer to get a better look.

It was at that moment I realized our stay in Koton would probably be a lengthy one.

A spectacular number of cuts and puncture wounds covered Grendor’s pale skin, much in the same way as had befallen the bishop – though the bishop’s body was too decomposed for a true comparison. Grendor had only recently died. Given the stiffness of the limbs and the colouring of his face, I guessed no more than a day. None of his limbs had been visibly broken and the bruises had not yet grown so bad that they would obscure a lot of the injuries.

When his mouth was opened for examination, it was obvious that the tongue had been cut out.

‘What do you think?’ one of the men asked, looking up at me as if I might divine a prophecy from these wounds.

Sulma Tan nodded for me to go on, so I addressed the others.

‘We examined Bishop Tahn Valin’s body earlier today and found wounds similar to those we can see here on Grendor. The bishop’s tongue had also been removed.’

‘The same person did this then.’ Duktan closed his eyes, grasping the end of the table, leaning over his dead friend, fighting back either tears or rage. Eventually he stepped away to compose himself.

Sulma Tan had a worried look, even though she couldn’t quite bring herself to make eye contact with me, but she must have been thinking the same thing. The notion was probably more profound to her. This was happening in her home city after all.

‘I can’t say for certain that it was the same person who did this,’ I continued, ‘merely that the wounds share certain
characteristics
. Both men, I think it is fair to say, suffered cruel and unusual deaths. However, there was no dismemberment in this particular case, whereas the bishop had pieces of his body discarded around the city. No, it’s too early to start making the assumption that we are definitely dealing with the same murderer. Not without more information. With that in mind, I would very much like to see the scene of the incident.’

‘Oh come on, officer,’ Duktan snapped. ‘You’re a man of the world. Tell us what you think. Give us a hunch. Something to go on.’

People rarely wanted to dwell on what may be complicated facts. They wanted easily digestible answers, almost always right away. When emotions were involved, especially, there was little headroom for quiet contemplation on such matters.

‘Well, here’s what
might
have happened – but this is purely speculation and shouldn’t leave this room as an official theory.’ The others nodded their approval. ‘Grendor was struck down with the blow to the head, which was just behind his ear.’ I indicated the wound. ‘That suggests it was not done in combat. Maybe he did not even come face to face with his killer at this stage.’

‘At this
stage
?’ Duktan muttered. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Please, bear with me,’ I replied. ‘Grendor’s body was then taken somewhere, perhaps dragged, which caused the dirt and scuff marks to the heels of his boots. Then all these wounds were then inflicted upon him. Such wounds take time to inflict, and they are not done lightly, nor are they the sort of thing that can be done in the street without anyone noticing. Given this was torture, it is possible – though we cannot be certain – that he was awake to endure much of this. At that point he was face to face with his killer.’

A couple of the men muttered something inaudible to each other, as if in fear of their lives or planning some form of revenge.

‘After this,’ I continued, ‘his body was returned to a very public place. It’s likely his body was left to be discovered. Whoever did this wanted Grendor to be seen in this state.’

‘Like the dismembered limb of the bishop,’ Leana said. ‘You do not do such a thing unless you are making a statement.’

While the others were lost in their own contemplation of the matter, Sulma Tan moved over and steered me to one side, out of earshot of Duktan. ‘You are suggesting that two very high-profile and respected men could have been killed in the same manner, by the same people. That officials of our country are being deliberately targeted.’

‘It is only speculation so far,’ I replied. ‘We need more evidence and I don’t like to jump to conclusions. But I’m only describing what’s obvious. You were probably thinking the same, too.’

Her eyes flickered minutely from left to right, from one of my eyes to the other, as she was trying to read my expression. She folded her arms and peered back at the corpse. ‘What do you suggest we do now? I know perfectly well how the queen will react to this. There will be chaos in the court if this is made public knowledge, and I imagine rumours will spread. She will ensure more soldiers patrol the prefecture instead of being directed further afield. What’s more, the gates will be monitored in such a way that it will make life difficult for traders to come and go. The rivers will be policed heavily too. The queen can put a tight grip on the city if she wishes . . .’

‘I don’t yet believe there’s a need for such actions and I’ll back you up if you think them unwise. Anyway, the queen might not jump to such conclusions. It’s just as likely she’ll simply be distraught at what has happened to a dear old friend. One can never quite tell how people will react to the loss of a loved one.’

‘She will not approve of this display of barbarism in the Sorghatan Prefecture one bit,’ Sulma Tan replied. ‘She is . . .
sensitive
to such things. She prefers order to be maintained at all times.’

‘I’m sure the loved ones of the deceased aren’t too keen on this barbarism either,’ I sighed.

Sulma Tan’s posture softened. ‘Please don’t misjudge my tone. I’m not heartless – I mean to suggest that the queen will want this resolved quickly. You do not know her like I do. This is an embarrassment to her. Soldiers will make life difficult around here for everyone if she brings them inside this prefecture.’

I shook my head. ‘Not if she wants to keep the news quiet. Soldiers, in their dozens, are rarely subtle in the art of investigation. It will attract too much attention – attention I’m sure she does not want. She can be persuaded on this argument.’

Sulma Tan turned to face me; all the pressures of life were in that one gaze. ‘So, Officer Drakenfeld, tell me what you want our next steps to be.’

‘Two things,’ I replied, with confidence. ‘The physician Carlon said he’d be more help with a fresher victim – well here, in unfortunate circumstances, we now have one. We should see that he makes a thorough assessment of Grendor and have him compare his findings to the limited information regarding the bishop. The comparison could prove important and I’m immensely grateful we have such a learned figure among us.’

‘It will be done,’ she replied, ‘though that will only confirm our current suspicions and bring us no closer to finding who did this.’

‘That brings me to the other matter: Grendor’s wife, Borta. Maybe she can help me establish a profile of her husband, his movements, where he was last seen, and so on. If I can find a connection between her husband and the bishop, then that may bring us a step closer to finding the killer. We could have the matter resolved quickly and without too many other lives being affected. Order will be restored and the queen need not panic.’

‘Then, please, make it happen,’ she sighed, before walking back to join the others.

The street was unnervingly dark and quiet, and low clouds had long since conspired to bring about a warm drizzle. Leana, myself and Sulma Tan walked hastily across the slick cobbles of the prefecture towards the scene of the murder.

We had endured an awkward conversation earlier with the friends and comrades of Grendor of the Cape. They had all wanted to come, to offer their support; but I advised them that tonight might be too soon, and too much, for the wife of the deceased to cope with so many people all at once.

I could understand their urge to be there, to offer their help or advice to the loved one of a friend, but all of that could wait until tomorrow. Thankfully they were in agreement with me or rather Sulma Tan who spoke very persuasively to them. I conducted a very casual conversation in which I slyly probed them for knowledge about Grendor’s final movements, but it appeared that none of them had seen him for several days. He was a sociable man, they told me, with a lot of friends, and he liked to make the most of his time, ever conscious of his age.

Leana’s torch created a golden puddle of light that was reflected in the wet stone. Whitewashed buildings, mostly three storeys high, leaned into the street either side of us, dogs trotted alone, rummaging for scraps of food along alleyways. The area looked well-to-do, much like anywhere else in this prefecture, and the buildings well maintained. Private soldiers, or guards from the City Watch, were marching in pairs down the wide, main thoroughfare. I was curious, then, that it wasn’t one of them who had found Grendor’s body. Either the guards were slack, or the murder was thoroughly organized. Eventually we reached a stone building decorated with sculptures of numerous animals, especially horses and stags, carved into wood. The quality of the work was breathtaking. The theme repeated in stone reliefs high up, or had been painted as insignia on doors. It was a house constructed with great taste and a subtle show of wealth and power. I’d noticed how the nation’s art used various elements of hunting, perhaps an echo of the people’s history of a life roaming the plains in codependence with animal herds.