House of Lust (20 page)

Vosgaris tried to smile but his face wasn’t really up to it.  What had happened to him when he’d been knocked out the second time?

Thetos grunted in amusement.  “Don’t think it’s going to make you look any more fetching.  So, what is going on?  Well I can tell you the emperor himself is coming down here, I’ve been sent a message, and he wants to see you.  Seems he wants a progress report.  Shall we get my resident artist to draw your portrait as it is now and send that?  That’d suffice, don’t you think?”

Vosgaris closed his eyes and groaned long.  It wasn’t merely down to the pain; he dreaded having to tell Astiras that he’d been beaten up and threatened. 

Thetos smiled behind his greying beard.  “Hah, I don’t wish to be in your shoes, I can tell you!  Metila will put some damned healing salve on you, and that’ll help.  You need sleep to recover so no doubt she’ll slip you some potion that’ll have you snoring the door off in no time.  Any idea who did that to you?”

Vosgaris nodded.  “Guild ruffians.  They took me to a dark room with the guild of builders’ symbol on it.”

“Ah, that sounds likely; I’m tired of those criminal gangs thinking they run the place.  I’ve had a few of them strung up in the past – think I might have to repeat it just to show them who’s in charge here.”

“Lord Anglis said you hadn’t done anything to stop them.”

“What?  What does that pompous idiot know?  He’s too busy sucking up to the big Houses to notice what goes on here.  He’s talking out of his back end, I can tell you.”

“The Mirrodan family are in thick with the Guilds, aren’t they?” Vosgaris said.

“Yes, but the Guilds are financed partly by the rich Houses, the Anglis included.”

Vosgaris frowned – this was something he didn’t know.  He looked at Thetos in bafflement.

Thetos chuckled.  “My lad, you’re a bit naïve.  The Guilds control trade – the Houses make trade.  Who forms the upper echelons of the Guild hierarchy?  The Houses, that’s who.  It makes it easier for them to control the trade routes.”

Vosgaris groaned and shut his eyes again.  His prime suspect, Mirrodan, had been matched now by Anglis.  He was no further forward than when he’d arrived.

True to Thetos’ predictions, Metila returned with a bowl full of a paste which she applied to the flinching man.  She gave him a long hard look and admonished him.  “You lie there and be silent!  You worse than child.”

The captain rolled his eyes.  “What is the matter with you, Metila?  You’ve been like a scolding mother since I’ve been in this bed.  I didn’t ask to be beaten up, I have to tell you.  Believe me, I would much prefer not to have been.”

“Silent.  You recover fast if you shut up.”  She began rubbing the paste into the skin on his face.  “You have eyes of colour.”

“Sorry?  Eyes of colour?”

Metila clucked her tongue, then held up a brass mirror.  Vosgaris saw for the first time the multi-coloured mess his face was.  Two eyes ringed with a mass of purple, green and black.  It was a wonder his nose and teeth hadn’t been damaged.  He lay back and allowed the woman to apply the salve.  “You look bad,” she said.

“I feel it,” Vosgaris said.

Metila’s lips twitched.

Vosgaris smiled.  “That’s more like it, I prefer you when you smile.”

“You not try to charm; I not interested.”

“No contract to seal, I know.”  He looked up at the ceiling.  “So why is it I don’t feel guilty about betraying my marriage?”

Metila gave him a long look, her brown eyes holding his deep blue, then she concentrated on putting more salve on his bruised face.  “You know.  Not I.  Kastanian men want Bragal girls for sex.  They not understand Bragal girls do it for reason.  We not see marriage as end of sex with others.  Why you not feel guilty?  Perhaps you know it was to seal contract.”

“Perhaps,” Vosgaris said.  “What about my two guards?” he asked suddenly.  “They were set upon at the time I was taken captive.”

“They fine.  They were found last night, brought here.  They told Thetos they were attacked, he sent out patrols to look for you.  They ready to be guards again.  They no good.”

“Why so?”

“They not protect you.  Guards guard.  They not guard.”

“We were set upon suddenly by a large group.  I can’t remember everything, but I do recall that – they came out of alleyways suddenly.”

Metila shrugged and hummed to herself.  She wiped her fingers and studied him.  “You heal.  You need to sleep.”

“Thetos said you’d give me a potion.”

She nodded.  “He know.  He wise.  You be wise to listen to him.  Maybe you not get beaten up again.” 

Vosgaris twisted his lips.  “I will listen to him, don’t worry.  When is the emperor coming down?”

She smiled.  “Three days.  I see Landwaster again.”

“Well he may not be that happy to see you, now he knows of your child.  I think he feels deceived you never told him.”

“Landwaster my master.  He your master.  He everyone’s master.  He strong….”

“Yes, yes, and I’m weak, you’ve said that.”  Vosgaris sounded irritable.  He felt irritable.  He felt he was not doing a decent job.  “I think you’re playing a dangerous game, Metila.  Don’t think because you’ve had the emperor you can get away with anything.  You know what people are like with witches – you get too well-known not even being the emperor’s part-time lover and the governor’s girl will save you.”

“Thetos rules Turslenka.  They do what he says.”

“Unless he gets unpopular.  Look, I’m the emperor’s representative, yet I was attacked here, because I’m looking into the case of someone who found out what you and the emperor have been up to and wants to cause mischief.  Do you understand what that means?  Someone here wants to cause you harm.  If they succeed in bringing down Astiras, then Thetos will fall and if he falls, you’ll be burned in the town square here.”

Metila squatted, looking at the battered captain.  “I understand.  Then you must find out who.  You get well quick, then you find out, yes?”

Vosgaris waved a lacklustre hand.  “I have no idea who it is.  It’s one of two, but which one, I don’t know.”

“Then kill both; you will be right with one.”

Vosgaris sucked in his breath, then exhaled in a part-laugh, part-hiss of pain.  “You would certainly cause a riot!  Executing an innocent member of the nobility?  That’s one sure way of causing a revolt.  The other noble houses would club together.  Metila, there are rules to play by and you just simply don’t go round chopping off the heads of suspects.  Not in these days, at least.  You might have got away with it a few centuries past, I don’t know.  Nowadays we have Councils and Houses, and an emperor can only remain at the top with the support of both.”

“That stupid!  Execute all rebels, like Landwaster did in Bragal!”

“Bragal was different – for one there were no Kastanian families to oppose there – your people had taken care of that in the first place.  Secondly it was a revolt that got the full backing of all the military and the Houses that had a vested interest in Bragal or the military.  It was only when the Houses which had no interest in Bragal tried to stop the fight-back that Astiras took action.  Frankly, he got away with it because everyone other than the few who were in power had got so tired of their corrupt practices they allowed it to happen.”

Metila pulled a face of distaste.  “Politics I not know.”

“I don’t, either, and I’m a noble.  Agh, I’m tired and in a lot of pain.  Put me to sleep, for Kastan’s sake, Metila.”

She nodded and passed a small cup with a single leaf in the bottom, a curled dull green one.  Vosgaris held the cup while Metila poured water into it.  “Now crush leaf, and drink all.”

Vosgaris did as she told him, and drank it in one go.  It was a very bitter taste and he grimaced.  “Ugh, that was foul.”

“Make you sleep rest of day.  You need recover.”

Vosgaris settled comfortably into the bed and took hold of her hand as she turned to go.  “Wait.  Stay until I go under.  I want you to hold my hand until then.”

Metila sighed and complied, looking at him smiling at her.  “You weak.”

“Yes, I’m weak,” Vosgaris said happily.  The potion was beginning to have an effect on him; it was sending waves of sleepiness through him, breaking over his mind like waves on the seashore.  He knew he would slip into unconsciousness very quickly.  “But I still want to look at you.”

She waited until his eyes grew heavy, then flickered a few times, and his face slipped into stillness and his eyes closed.  She untangled her fingers and placed his hand on his chest, then leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the forehead.  “Fool,” she said softly in Bragalese.  “Cute, but a fool.”

The potion kept the captain out for the entire day, and it was around the middle of the following night that he woke, ravenously hungry.  The duty servant fetched a hastily assembled meal and drink for him and Vosgaris downed it in no time.  Dismissing the servant he lay back, gingerly feeling his puffy face.  His ribs were painful and in the flickering candlelight he saw they were still badly bruised.  His face would be, too, no doubt.  Some maniac probably had kicked him a few times when he had been knocked out.

It was at daybreak he rose, dressed, and called for Arkanin and Hendros.  He sat on his bed, wishing for the dizzy feeling to abate, and the two guards made their entrance, looking a little subdued, and sporting bruises and bumps.  “You two alright?”

“Sir,” Arkanin said, standing stiffly to attention.  “Apologies for the failure to protect you.”

Vosgaris waved the apology aside.  “Enough of that – next time be better prepared.  I want you to have drawn swords when we go visiting anyone.”

The two men saluted.  Vosgaris led them to the governor’s quarters and he was allowed entry, leaving his two men outside.  Thetos was tucking into a hearty breakfast of a huge avian egg and bread.  Vosgaris had never seen an egg the size of that before.

“What is that, Governor?”

“Sea avian called a Gurocka.  Nests on the shores of Makenia.  A bit sharp tasting but once you get used to it, very nice indeed.  I have this once every other day.  Good way to start the day.  Metila says you’re fine to continue, but you look like a canine’s shit, if you ask me.”

“Thanks, Governor,” Vosgaris sighed and sank gratefully into a chair Thetos indicated with a wave of his hook.  Metila entered the room carrying a tray of steaming mugs.

“Klee,” she said.  “I make you one too.  Drink.”

The captain took one mug and nodded his thanks.  He glanced at Metila who was more conservatively dressed, her tunic buttoned up almost to her throat.  Her skirt was still short, however.

She smiled once, then attended Thetos.  His hook was the one designed to hold his mug and he used it while scooping more of the white flesh of the cooked egg out with his spoon.  She knelt by his side and the gruff old governor smiled once, then jabbed his spoon in the direction of Vosgaris.  “The emperor is going to want some good news about the investigation, and your face isn’t going to give him any comfort.  Now it won’t be any use going into the guild building and turning it upside down.  You’ve not been all that clever so far, and all you’ve got for your work is a battered face.”

The captain grimaced as he sipped the hot, bitter brew.  “So what do you recommend?  It’s your city, so you ought to know something or someone; I have no idea who runs the guild here, anyway.  Lord Anglis?”

“The Masons’ Guild, yes.  Looks bad for him, doesn’t it?  The Mirrodan are thick with the Carpenters’ Guild which is in the same building.”

“Oh?  Now that’s interesting,” Vosgaris pondered on that piece of news.  “Still gives me no clue though.  Metila here is for hanging both Houses.”

Thetos guffawed and leaned over to stroke her face.  “Well, that’s Metila for you – and frankly there are times I agree with her, although it’d provoke a full-scale uprising.  No, we got to have proper cause to move in on one or the other of them.”

“So what do we do?  The emperor will want to rip the place apart if I don’t have anything for him!”

“Take your two men with you to a machine shop on the Frasian Gate Road – you can’t miss it.  It’s run by an old bugger called Rakinn, he’s a disreputable type but one of the few independent traders left in the city; the guilds are trying to bully him into joining and he’s telling them to piss off.  There was a fight the other day, so I hear.”

Vosgaris sucked on his lower lip.  “Machine shop?”

“Makes furniture – he has a load of lathes and looms and what have you.  I won’t tell you what to expect since he’s as unpredictable as anyone I know.  He detests the guilds so he may have something of use to tell you.  I don’t know, but you can’t miss the opportunity, can you?” 

Vosgaris decided that Thetos’ advice was as good as anything he had – in fact he had nothing else – so after a hastily eaten breakfast he set off with Hendros and Arkanin along the streets of Turslenka which were beginning to get busy.  People were beginning to open shops or go out to buy items or food, or begin their day’s work whatever it may be.

The Frasian Gate Road was a main street, the one running eastwards towards the exit that led over the Storma River right outside the city via a many-arched stone bridge.  It was what Turslenka was famous for.  It had been built many centuries ago, and often repaired, and looked impressive, stretching from the gates in a series of spans across to the far bank, over two hundred paces in length.