Inversions (24 page)

Perrund watched this shuffle of impedimenta with a sort of sad amusement. She put her good hand on his, stilling him. ‘Take care,’ she said softly. Then she turned and went to sit where she could see UrLeyn and he could see her.

DeWar looked at her for a moment as she sat there, straight-backed in her long red gown, her face calm and beautiful, then he turned away too, and walked to the doors.

Master, a killer for Duke Walen was of course eventually procured. It could not be otherwise. The murder of one so prominent cannot simply be left unavenged. As surely as the heir to a vacant title of note must be found, such an event leaves a hole in the fabric of society which has to be repaired with the life of another. It is a vacuum into which some soul must be sucked, and the soul in this case was a poor mad fellow from the city of Mizui who with every appearance of happiness and even fulfilment willingly threw himself into that void.

His name was Berridge, a one-time tinder-box maker of some age who was well known as a mad fellow in the city. He lived under the city’s bridge with a handful of other desperates, begging for money in the streets and scavenging the market for discarded or rotten food. When the death of Duke Walen was made public knowledge in Mizui on the day following the masked ball, Berridge presented himself at the sheriff’s office and made a full confession.

This was not a cause for any great surprise on the sheriff’s part, as Berridge routinely claimed responsibility for any murder in or near the city for which there was no obvious culprit, and indeed for some where the murderer could not have been more obvious. His protestations of guilt in court, despite the fact that a husband of known viciousness had been discovered comatose with drink in the same locked room as the body of his butchered wife with the knife still clutched in his bloody hand, were the cause of much hilarity amongst that part of the populace which treats the King’s courts as a form of free theatre.

Normally, Berridge would have been thrown out of the door and into the dust of the street without the sheriff giving the matter a second thought. On this occasion, however, due to the gravity of the offence and the fact that Duke Quettil had only that morning impressed upon the sheriff the extremity of his annoyance at a second unsanctioned murder taking place within his jurisdiction within so short a time, the sheriff thought the better of treating the madman’s claims to such automatic dismissal.

To his immense surprise and satisfaction, Berridge was incarcerated in the town jail. The sheriff had a note sent to Duke Quettil informing him of this swift action, though he did think to include mention of such confessions being a habitual feature of Berridge’s behaviour and that it was correspondingly unlikely that Berridge was really the culprit.

Guard Commander Polchiek sent word to the sheriff to keep Berridge in jail for the time being. When a half-moon had passed and no progress had been made discovering the murderer, the Duke instructed the sheriff to make further investigations into Berridge’s claim.

Sufficient time had passed for neither Berridge nor any of his under-bridge-dwelling companions to have any recollection whatsoever of the movements of any of them on the day and evening of the masked ball, save that Berridge insisted he had left the city, climbed the hill to the palace, entered the private chambers of the Duke and murdered him in his bed (this quickly changed the better to fit the facts when Berridge heard that the Duke had been killed in a room just off the ballroom, while awake).

In the continuing absence of any more likely suspect, Berridge was sent to the palace, where Master Ralinge put him to the question. What good this was supposed to do other than to prove that Duke Quettil was serious about the matter and his appointees thorough in their investigations is debatable. Berridge presented no satisfying challenge at all to the Duke’s chief torturer and from what I heard suffered relatively little, though still enough to unhinge his feeble brain still further.

By the time he appeared before the Duke himself to be tried for the Duke’s murder, Berridge was a thin, bald, shaking wreck whose eyes roved about with seemingly complete independence from each other. He mumbled constantly yet spoke almost no intelligible words and had confessed not only to the murder of Duke Walen but also to that of King Beddun of Tassasen, Emperor Puiside and King Quience’s father King Drasine, as well as claiming to be responsible for the fiery sky rocks which had killed whole nations of people and ushered in the present post-Imperial age.

Berridge was burned at the stake in the city’s square. The Duke’s heir, his brother, set the fire himself, though not before having the sad wretch strangled first, to spare him the pain of the fire.

The rest of our stay in the Yvenage Hills passed relatively uneventfully. There was an air of unsettled concern and even suspicion about the palace for some time, but that gradually dissipated. There were no more unexplained deaths or shocking murders. The King’s ankle healed. He went hunting and fell off his mount again, though without incurring any injuries beyond scratches. His health seemed to improve generally, perhaps under the influence of the clear mountain air.

The Doctor found she had little to do. She walked and rode in the hills, sometimes with me at her side, sometimes, at her own insistence, alone. She spent some considerable time in Mizui city, treating orphans and other unfortunates at the Paupers’ Hospital, comparing notes with the local mid-wives and discussing remedies and potions with the local apothecaries. As our time at Yvenir went on, a number of casualties from the war in Ladenscion arrived in the city, and the Doctor treated a few of those as best she could. She had little success at first in trying to meet with the doctors of the town, until with the King’s permission she invited them to his counsel chamber, and had him briefly meet with them before he went off to hunt.

She accomplished less than she’d hoped to, I think, in terms of changing some of their ways, which she found even more old fashioned and indeed potentially dangerous to their patients than those of their colleagues in Haspide.

Despite the King’s obvious health, he and the Doctor still seemed to find excuses to meet. The King worried that he might run to fat, as his father had done in later years, and so consulted the Doctor on his diet. This seemed bizarre to those of us for whom growing fat was a sure sign that one was well fed, lightly worked and had achieved a maturity beyond the average, but then perhaps this showed that there was a degree of truth to the rumours that the Doctor had put some strange ideas into the King’s head.

Tongues also wagged concerning the fact the Doctor and the King spent so much time together. As far as I know nothing of an intimate nature took place between them during all this time. I had been present at the Doctor’s side on every occasion she had attended the King, save for a couple of instances when I was too ill to leave my bed, when I diligently undertook to discover through my fellow assistants, as well as through certain servants, what had transpired between the Doctor and the King.

I am satisfied that I missed nothing and have reported everything that could possibly be of note to my Master thus far.

The King commanded the Doctor’s presence most evenings, and if he had no obvious ailments, he would make a show of flexing his shoulders and would claim with a small frown that there might be a stiffness in one or other of them. The Doctor seemed perfectly willing to act the masseuse, and would happily work her various oils into the golden-brown skin of the King’s back, kneading and working her palms and knuckles down his spine, across the shoulders and over the nape of his neck. Sometimes at such times they would talk quietly, more often they would be silent, save for the King’s sporadic grunts as the Doctor loosened particularly tense knots of muscles. I too kept silent, of course, unwilling to break the spell that seemed to prevail on such candle-lit occasions, and afflicted with an odd, sweet melancholy while I watched in envy as those strong, slender fingers, glistening with perfumed oils, worked on the King’s yielding flesh.

*    *    *

‘You look tired this evening, Doctor,’ the King said as she massaged his upper back. He lay stripped to the waist on his wide, canopied bed.

‘Do I, sir?’

‘Yes. What have you been up to?’ The King looked round at her. ‘You haven’t taken a lover, have you, Vosill?

The Doctor blushed, which was not something she did often. I think that every time I witnessed such an event we were in the presence of the King. ‘I have not, sir,’ she said.

The King settled his chin back on his hands. ‘Perhaps you should, Doctor. You’re a handsome woman. I can’t think that you would have other than a fair choice, if you so wished.’

‘Your majesty flatters me.’

‘No, I’m simply speaking the truth, as I’m sure you know.’

‘I bow to your opinion, sir.’

The King looked round, straight at me. ‘Isn’t she, ah . . . ?’

‘Oelph,’ I said, gulping. ‘Sir.’

‘Well, Oelph,’ the King said, raising his eyebrows. ‘Don’t you think so? Isn’t the good doctor a pleasing prospect? Don’t you think she would gladden the eye of any normal man?’

I swallowed. I looked at the Doctor, who glanced at me with a look that might have been forbidding or even pleading.

‘I’m sure, sir,’ I began, ‘that my mistress is most personable, your majesty, sir,’ I mumbled, feeling myself blush now.

‘Personable? Is that all?’ The King laughed, still looking at me. ‘But don’t you think she is attractive, Oelph? Attractive, comely, handsome, beautiful?’

‘I’m sure she is all those things, sir,’ I said, looking down at my feet.

‘There you are, Doctor,’ the King said, settling his chin on his hands once more. ‘Even your young assistant agrees with me. He thinks you’re attractive. So, Doctor, are you going to take a lover or not?’

‘I think not, sir. A lover would take up time I might need to devote to your good self.’

‘Oh, I’m so well and fit these days I’m sure I could spare you for the time it takes for a quick tumble or two each evening.

‘Your majesty’s generosity overwhelms me,’ the Doctor said dryly.

‘There you go again, you see, Vosill? That damned sarcasm. My father always said that when a woman started being sarcastic to her betters it was a sure sign she wasn’t being serviced properly.’

‘What a fount of priceless wisdom he was to be sure, sir.

‘He certainly was,’ the King agreed. ‘I think he’d have said you needed a good tumbling. For your own good. Ouch,’ he said as the Doctor leant heavily on his spine with the heel of one hand. ‘Steady, Doctor. Yes. You might even call it medicinal, or at least, ah, what’s that other word?’

‘Irrelevant? Nosy? Impertinent?’

‘Therapeutic. That’s the word. Therapeutic.’

‘Ah, that word.’

‘I know,’ the King said. ‘What if I commanded you to take a lover, Vosill, for your own good?’

‘Your majesty’s concern for my health is most cheering.

‘Would you obey your King, Vosill? Would you take a lover if I told you to?’

‘I would be concerned what proof of my obeying such an instruction would be required to satisfy my King, sir.’

‘Oh, I’d take your word on it, Vosill. And besides, I’m sure any man who did bed you would be bound to brag about it.’

‘Really, sir?’

‘Yes. Unless he possessed a particularly jealous and unforgiving wife. But would you do as I told you?’

The Doctor looked thoughtful. ‘I take it I would be able to make the choice myself, sir.’

‘Oh, of course, Doctor. I am not determined to pimp for you.’

‘Then, yes, sir. Of course. With alacrity.’

‘Good! Now then, I wonder if I should so command you.’

I had by this time raised my gaze from my feet, although my face still felt flushed. The Doctor looked over at me and I smiled uncertainly. She grinned.

‘What if you did, sir,’ she asked. ‘And I refused?’

‘Refused to obey a direct order from your King?’ the King asked with what sounded like genuine horror.

‘Well, while I am entirely in your service and remain devoted to your every good, sir, I am not, I believe, in a technical sense, one of your subjects. I am a foreign national. Indeed, I am not a subject at all. I am a citizen of the archipelagic republic of Drezen and while I am content and indeed honoured to serve you under and within the jurisdiction of your laws, I do not believe that I am bound to obey your every whim as might somebody born within the borders of Haspidus or who was born to parents who were subjects of your realm.’

The King thought about this for a good few moments. ‘Did you once tell me you considered learning the law rather than medicine, Doctor?’

‘I believe I did, sir.’

‘I thought so. Well, if you were one of my subjects and you disobeyed me in such a matter, I would have you locked up until you changed your mind, and if you did not change your mind that would be unfortunate for you, because trivial though the issue itself might be, the King’s will must always be obeyed, and that is a matter of the utmost gravity and importance.’

‘However, I am not a subject of yours, sir. How then would you deal with my mooted intransigence?’

‘I suppose I would have to order you to leave my Kingdom, Doctor. You would have to return to Drezen, or go elsewhere.’

‘That would sadden me greatly, sir.’

‘As it would me. But you can see that I would have no choice.’

‘Of course, sir. So I had better hope that you do not so instruct me. Otherwise I had better prepare either to surrender myself to a man, or for exile.’

‘Indeed.’

‘A hard choice for one who is, as you have observed with such penetrating accuracy, sir, so opinionated and stubborn as I.’

‘I am glad you are finally treating the subject with the gravity it merits, Doctor.’

‘Indeed. And what of yourself, sir, if I may enquire?’

‘What?’ the King said, his head coming up off his hands.

‘Your majesty’s intentions in the matter of a wife are of as enormous consequence as my choice of a lover would be trifling. I only wondered how much thought you had given to the matter, as we are on the subject.’

‘I think we are swiftly leaving the subject I thought we were on.’

‘I beg your majesty’s pardon. But do you intend to marry soon, sir?’

‘I think that is none of your business, Doctor. That is the business of the court, my advisors, the fathers of eligible princesses or other ladies of rank to whom it would be sensible and advantageous for me to be attached to, and myself.’