The Justice of Kings, page 6
“No,” I said quickly. “Not yet, I mean. Our circuit will take us there eventually, but not for some months yet.”
“How long have you been on the road?”
“Nearly two years,” I said.
“Blessed Nema! That is no life.”
I shrugged. I felt strangely compelled to defend it. “You get used to it. Besides, our function is an important one.”
“I don’t doubt it. But does it not weary you? Not to have a home to go to?”
I shifted, uncomfortable. I did not like sharing my past with strangers, particularly those I was attracted to. “I have not had a home for a long time,” I said.
“That is a shame,” Matas said.
“What about you?” I asked quickly. “Have you lived in Galen’s Vale all your life?”
He nodded. “My mother died of a pox in my childhood, but I still live with my father. He was wounded fighting the Tolls in the Marches and now cannot use his legs.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” I said warily. I would not back down like I had with Sir Radomir. If Matas had an issue with my ancestry I would fight him on it, whether I liked him or not.
“You are a Toll, I take it?” he asked without malice. “Sedanka is a Marcher name.”
“I am,” I said. “Why? Does it bother you? I was not born when the Reichskrieg came to Muldau.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Matas said quickly. “I’ve no quarrel with them. We are all Autun now, anyway. Certainly it’s all I’ve ever known.”
I calmed down and offered him a sheepish, insincere smile. I was annoyed with myself; Matas was a pleasant lad. I was being awkward and poor company.
We turned on to the street which led directly to the Veldelin Gate. The courthouse was about a quarter of the way along, an ornate stone building bristling with turrets with conical roofs of grey slate and draped in damp Sovan pennants. The watch house was further down, next to the town gaol.
“What do you think about the murder of Lady Bauer?” I asked as we neared the courthouse, conscious that our time together was drawing to a close.
Matas shrugged. “’Tis a grave business for sure,” he said. “Normally when there is a murder you cannot stop the commonfolk pointing the finger for love nor money, and we end up with a list of suspicious persons as long as your arm.” He paused. “This is different. There is no one. Sir Radomir is adamant that Lord Bauer has not done it, as disagreeable a man as he is. No one else has seen or heard a thing. We raided the eastern closure and found no trace of fresh wealth, such as might point to a robbery gone awry. And there were no tongues wagging, even with persuasion, if you take the meaning. ’Tis as if the lady just vanished. Were it not for the crack to her skull—” He dinged the side of his helmet as he said it. “—anyone’d think she’d put a foot wrong on the banks of the Gale and drowned. ’Tis a deep river, with treacherous currents. Had it not been for the tree root, Tom Bevitt’s boy would never have seen her.”
I shivered at the thought of Lady Bauer’s corpse tumbling deep underwater, spun around by the currents until there was nothing left to spin.
Matas sighed. “It’s all foreign to me. Sir Radomir has his own theories, though.”
“Does he suspect anyone in particular?” I pressed.
“I cannot say,” Matas said. “Nema, I’ve said far too much as it is. We are not supposed to talk about it. Besides, I’ve not had much to do with it. Sir Radomir keeps a group of men who specialise in making enquiries, per the Sovan ordinances.”
“I see,” I said. We had reached the courthouse, and stopped outside its imposing iron gates. Above, a large stone statue of the two-headed wolf looked out ominously. The words “De Jura Nietra Iznia” were carved into the wall above it in High Saxan: “No one is above the law”.
“Did you say you were fetching records from the watch house, too?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Perhaps I could assist you with that?”
I knew that if I dallied any further, I would miss Vonvalt’s conversation with Lord Bauer, something he had scheduled for that morning. He did not want to waste any time on this case.
“There is no need, thank you,” I said with regret. “It will be a short matter of collecting them.”
He looked disappointed. “I would see you again, Helena.” His forward manner secretly delighted me.
“And I you,” I replied, for I was desperate to see him again too.
Immediately he brightened. “You are staying at Lord Sauter’s residence?”
“I am, but I do not have much idle time,” I said quickly. “I could send a message to the watch house when I am next free?”
He nodded. “That would work.”
We stood awkwardly in the snow.
“Farewell, then,” I said, embarrassed, toying with my cloak.
He touched the rim of his kettle helm. “And you,” he said, and walked on. I don’t know if he looked back; I had already hurried inside the courthouse.
I could not take the records from the courthouse, for they were too voluminous, but I was able to get the ledger of criminal reports from the desk serjeant in the watch house. Then I hurried back the way I had come, passing through streets which grew busier with miserable-looking people by the minute. I passed through the marketplace and paused to check the time on the big temple clock, trying to ignore the corpses of frozen beggars clustered around the foot of the belfry. It was approaching nine.
I quickened my pace and reached the mayor’s residence just in time to see Vonvalt and Bressinger walking down the pathway that led from the front door to the gate. Both were clad in impressive outfits that befitted their office as Imperial agents, including their formal, fur-trimmed overcloaks.
“Slow down, Helena, you’ll slip on the ice,” Bressinger called out irritably. I suspected he was nursing quite a severe headache.
“Sir Konrad,” I said. He drew up short.
“Yes?”
I told him I’d been unable to retrieve the courthouse records. He looked decidedly unimpressed.
“I do not have time to deal with that now,” he said. “I had hoped you might show some initiative, Helena. You could have made a start on reviewing the records this morning in the vaults.”
“Forgive me,” I mumbled. “I was eager to accompany you to see Lord Bauer.”
Vonvalt softened. He could hardly be angry that I was showing an interest in our work; but he also believed – rightly – that I was more interested in seeing lords squirm under interrogation than putting in the hard yards combing through records as he had had to do. Still, he did sometimes indulge me, and I was quick to take advantage of it.
Bressinger watched through narrowed eyes.
“Make yourself useful, then,” Vonvalt muttered. “Put that ledger in my chamber and fetch your log of attendances. We will have a note of the interview after all,” he added to Bressinger.
“Thank you,” I said with a smile, and hurried off to do as he bade. I returned outside to find that neither of them had waited for me, and I had to ask a succession of day watchmen and local citizens the way to Lord Bauer’s house until I caught up with Vonvalt and Bressinger by the front gate.
Lord Bauer lived in a large town house, similar in design to Lord Sauter’s except that it was attached on both sides to other large merchant houses. There must have been twenty of them in all, a street or two away from the town harbour where a forest of ships’ masts creaked and swayed in the breeze. Vonvalt pounded his large, gloved fist on the door and a short while later it was unlatched and opened. A servant girl with red-rimmed eyes and dressed for mourning greeted us. Fire-warmed air breezed out of the door.
“I am Justice Sir Konrad Vonvalt,” he said gently. “I am here to see Lord Bauer. I do not have an appointment. Would you fetch him down, please, and show us into the reception room?”
The serving girl simply nodded, struck dumb as many were when faced with the embodiment of Imperial authority. We entered and were gestured, wordlessly, to a room to the right of the entrance hall. The decoration was similar to that of the mayor’s, both expensive and fashionable.
We waited a while. My heart pounded with anticipation. I could hear muted voices, since sound carried even in these luxurious town houses. It was clear from the tone of what we could hear that Lord Bauer was not happy about this impromptu visit, but, like everyone else, he had no choice but to see us. After a while we heard his inevitable footsteps on the stairs.
“Sir Konrad,” he said as he appeared in the doorway to the reception room.
“Lord Bauer,” Vonvalt said, standing along with the rest of us. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Not at all,” Bauer said. He was an average man in almost every respect – build, height, hair colour, features; there was little to distinguish him from a thousand other Sovan subjects. He had the healthy pink skin of the well-fed, and was fleshier than most, but he was not overweight. He wore a fashionably cropped black beard, which I’d heard the Emperor favoured. His clothes were clearly expensive.
He also had the haggard look of the recently bereaved.
“I was sorry to hear about the loss of your wife,” Vonvalt said as we all sat down.
“Thank you,” Bauer said. He cleared his throat. “I have not fully come to terms with it.”
“No,” Vonvalt said, “that is to be expected.”
“Can I offer you anything at all?”
“Water, if you have it; ale if not,” Vonvalt said.
“For the three of you?”
“Yes, thank you. This is Dubine Bressinger, my taskman; and this is Helena Sedanka, my clerk.”
“That is a large volume,” Bauer said, nodding at the ledger on my lap. It was a large volume, and one I still keep. It is from dusty old ledgers like these, and my private journals, which I am able to draw on to flesh out the details of these decades-old conversations.
“Helena will keep a note of our attendance,” Vonvalt said.
There was an uncomfortable pause. “Justice, I have already spoken to the town sheriff.”
“And now you shall speak to me,” Vonvalt said.
“As you wish,” Bauer said. The serving girl returned a short while later with three tankards of marsh ale.
“You do not drink, sir?” Vonvalt asked.
“I have not the stomach for it,” Bauer replied. “May I ask why you have come, Sir Konrad? I thought a Justice’s duty was to check town records and hear petty complaints from the commonfolk.”
Vonvalt smiled thinly. “I am the Emperor’s representative,” he said. “My jurisdiction has no limits save the confines of the law itself. Murder falls very much within my purview.”
Bauer looked uncomfortable. “I meant no offence, Sir Konrad.”
“It is just as well.”
Bauer cleared his throat. “You are investigating my wife’s murder, then?”
Vonvalt nodded. “With Sir Radomir’s assistance.”
“That man suspects me,” Bauer said with venom. “He’s as crooked a lawman as they come.”
Vonvalt frowned. “Why do you believe Sir Radomir suspects you?”
“That man has had it in for me for a long time. He has accused me of all manner of crimes in the past.”
“Has Sir Radomir ever laid charges against you?”
“No,” Bauer sulked. “Not for want of trying, though. Have you met him?”
“I have.”
“Doubtless he has sought to poison you against me.”
“He has done no such thing,” Vonvalt said. “Sir Radomir is an officer of the law who is investigating the murder of your wife. You would do well to show the man some respect.”
“I’ll do no such thing,” Bauer said, but then quickly retreated. He seemed suddenly to deflate, like a water bladder pierced by a dagger. “I am sorry, Justice. I am not myself.”
There was a pause. “It is no matter,” Vonvalt said eventually.
Lord Bauer gave Vonvalt a sidelong glance. “I have heard it told that Justices have special abilities. Is it true you can make a man confess with sharp words alone?”
Vonvalt paused. “I have certain abilities, yes,” he said. “I do not use them lightly.”
“I have heard that you can speak to the dead,” Lord Bauer said quietly. The air seemed to grow thicker and heavier. I shivered. Vonvalt had conducted necromancy a number of times in the past, but the process was a disturbing one that required a tremendous amount of skill and energy.
“Perhaps we should start from the beginning.” Vonvalt said. “Tell me what happened with your wife.”
“Yes,” Lord Bauer said. “My dear wife.” He paused. For a squeamish moment I thought the man was going to cry, but he comported himself. “Natalija went missing three nights ago. She had gone to Thread Street to inspect some new bolts of cloth from Grozoda. Some green velvets, I think. The colour is very much in fashion.” He took a deep breath. I was grateful for his pauses; they gave my hand and wrist respite from my energetic quill scratching. “She never returned. The next thing I knew some local peasant lad had spotted her body in the Gale.”
Vonvalt looked thoughtful. “Was she with anybody? Before her disappearance?”
“The serving girl, Hana.” He gestured to the door, evidently indicating the girl who had let us in and brought us drinks. “They were close.” He shrugged. “Closer than a mistress and servant should be,” he added.
“I am to take it that Hana was separated from Lady Bauer at the crucial time?” Vonvalt asked.
Lord Bauer looked displeased. “The girl is of no use whatever,” he said. “Natalija bade her return to the house to prepare for my arrival. I had been at the wharf for most of the afternoon – I’ve a dozen men who’ll attest to that.”
“Noted.”
“Hana left my wife on Thread Street. She did not bear witness to anything. If she is to be believed.”
“You suspect her?”
Lord Bauer shrugged. “I only have her word that Natalija sent her away. Perhaps it was part of a trap.”
“You have questioned her, I take it?” Vonvalt asked, a note of distaste in his voice.
“Aye, that I have. Her story is unchanged, despite a thrashing.”
I thought of the girl who had served us. She looked a few years younger than me. I felt sorry for her. A young serving girl like that would be very much trapped, a prisoner of her circumstances. I doubted she had much in the way of family. If Lord Bauer kept her in his service, he would almost certainly begin a sexual affair with her – assuming he had not already. When he eventually kicked her out, she would be left at the mercy of the town’s alms houses. Even if those in Galen’s Vale were better than most I’d come across, it was still a wretched existence.
“Do you know the name of the shop which Lady Bauer was last seen in?” Vonvalt asked.
“No. Sir Radomir will. He and his men were investigating yesterday morning – for all the good that will do.”
Vonvalt paused. “Sir Radomir told me that you suspected a business rival, Mr Vogt, as being responsible for your wife’s murder. What of that?”
Lord Bauer looked uncomfortable. “I have spoken hotly these past few days,” he said carefully. “Mr Vogt and I are old business rivals. He once accused me of sabotaging some of his grain shipments.”
“So I have heard.”
“I was quick to accuse him. I fear I spoke in haste.”
Vonvalt frowned. “Nevertheless, there must have been something that made you accuse him so readily? Sir Radomir said you were quite convinced.”
“In all honesty, Justice, he was all I could think of. In my grief I sought to latch on to anything at all which made sense. I have no enemies, not in the real sense. The competition here in the Vale is fierce, but not so fierce that we would resort to such appalling measures. We are businessmen, not animals.”
“I still consider it very strange that you mentioned him at all if he is in no way connected.”
“Justice, I swear… the ramblings of the bereaved. There is nothing there.”
“I think we shall speak to Mr Vogt in any event,” Vonvalt said.
“As you wish,” Bauer said sullenly.
“And if we rule him and his agents out, for the moment,” Vonvalt said, “then there is no one you can think of who would seek to do this?”
“No one at all,” Lord Bauer said.
“You suspect something else then? Robbery?”
“How could I know? All I know is that she is gone.”
Vonvalt emitted a small, incredulous laugh. “It is quite remarkable, my lord, that the wife of a prominent noble can be murdered in so brutal a fashion with nothing at all to be divined in its wake. I have seen nothing like it in all my years as an Imperial Magistrate.”
Bauer shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Justice.”
“Hm,” Vonvalt said. There was a long pause. “And elsewhere in your professional life? You are a trader, yes? A merchant?”
“That’s right.”
“What is the precise nature of your business?”
“I deal in shipping. I guarantee cargoes, in return for a payment.”
“You guarantee them? How?” Vonvalt asked.
“I cover the cost of a shipment if it is lost.”
“That seems like a venture fraught with risk.”
Lord Bauer shook his head. “It is not, if you’ve a head for it.”
“So I see,” Vonvalt said drily, making a show of looking around the room. “And there has been no material change in your business? Are you in any man’s debt?”
“I am not.”
“All right,” Vonvalt said. “Before I leave you, perhaps you could tell me about your business around the town? Sir Radomir said you had some responsibilities in the council?”
“I do,” Lord Bauer said carefully. “They are rather limited.”
“Such as?”
Lord Bauer shifted in his seat. “I have some official duties. I help organise certain charitable ventures from the town’s tax income, as trustee. I also assist the temple with alms for the poor. Plus a few other minor duties.”
“Nothing awry there?”
“Certainly nothing comes to mind.”
