Retribution (Drakenfeld 2) (23 page)

Nambu shrugged. ‘You must worry about these things when you get to your age.’

‘I’m not that old,’ I spluttered. ‘Besides, being young is important – you
should
be enjoying things at your age and not worrying about death.’

She made a noise of dissatisfaction. ‘I don’t get to enjoy all that much, not with my mother around.’

We followed the instructions of a passer-by to locate the nearest jeweller. Even though we kept to the woman’s directions, it was still some time before we managed to find the place.

The shop was tucked down one of the older, more pleasant lanes of the city, one with cobbled surfaces and raised pavements that reminded me somewhat of Tryum. The frontage possessed no windows – or awning, since it was shaded by the surrounding buildings – merely a faded green sign with
Vallamon’s Gems
painted in a wonderfully esoteric script. Standing by the front door was a tall and muscular man, someone, by the look of him, who might have been familiar with military service. He wore a black tunic and heavy boots, and possessed a broad face, stubble and close-cropped black hair. The owner must have been doing rather well for himself if he could afford private security.

‘Good day, sir. I’d like to meet with Vallamon.’ I noted how the man stood with half his frame across the doorway, as if tempting people to try their luck.

‘Who’s calling?’ he grunted.

‘Lucan Drakenfeld, Officer of the Sun Chamber. We’re on urgent business sanctioned by Queen Dokuz Sorghatan.’

‘Who’re these two?’ With a tilt of his head he indicated Leana and Nambu.

‘My assistants.’

‘You need two assistants?’

‘Yes, I’m a rather busy man. So I’d appreciate it all the more if you hurried along and asked Vallamon if he’s free. This is the queen’s business.’

His dark eyes were drawn to my Sun Chamber brooch, the gold star pinned to my breast. He nodded and turned inside. Muffled voices discussed our presence.

A moment later and he stepped outside once again. ‘All right, you can go inside, one at a time. And you’ – he pointed towards Nambu, who froze looking up along his outstretched finger – ‘you keep your hands in your pockets at all times. We’ve had trouble with lads your age before. I broke the arm of the last one who tried to pinch something, then had their parents complaining afterwards. Law’s the law – you steal, we take it back in whatever way necessary. Saves us the bother of courts and having to pay lawyers.’

I rested my hand upon his forearm and met his gaze. ‘He won’t be any trouble,’ I said firmly, ‘I give you my word.’

He peered down to where I’d touched his arm and made it perfectly clear he didn’t appreciate the gesture, but he stepped aside and let us through.

Vallamon’s Gems was extremely small inside – perhaps a twelve-foot-square room – and lit warmly by dozens of candles. There was a counter to our right, and to the left was a wooden wall containing hundreds of parchments, on which various ink sketches had been made. The remarkably intricate drawings were of different gemstones, ranging in shapes and sizes, as well as the silver or gold in which they had been set, and illegible writing surrounded them that may have been detailing the designs.

From the workshop behind, a small man with slick black hair parted to one side stepped forward into the light.

‘Good morning,’ I said. ‘The jovial chap on the door said it was all right to enter.’

He nodded and said in rough Detratan, ‘Allius is a trustworthy man. I have known him for many years and his judgement has mostly been sound. He informs me you are a man of some standing in society. I approve of men of good standing.’ He grinned. ‘They tend to pay for quality and with purer coin.’

Out of politeness, and given the poor nature of his Detratan, I continued in Kotonese, introducing myself and my assistants. ‘You might be disappointed, but I’m not at the moment looking to purchase an item. However I would very much like your help.’

He was indifferent to me now he realized I wasn’t going to give him much money, but I added, ‘And, of course, I expect to pay for your assistance and expertise.’

‘Then we have an understanding,’ he replied, smiling on one side of his face, as if his other half did not function properly. ‘What do you need help with?’

I reached into my pocket, produced the envelope containing the ring, and slid it across the counter to him. Suspecting him of possessing not a little arrogance, I said, ‘No one in the city seems to know what the stone is in this ring. I’m hoping your knowledge is exceptional enough to discern what it might be.’

‘Oh that it is,’ he replied. ‘I am the most experienced jeweller in the city.’

He immediately picked out the ring from the envelope and took it over to a corner where an ornate candelabrum stood. There he examined it at length, humming with confidence – or at least I hoped it was confidence.

‘Very interesting indeed . . .’ he muttered. Without removing his gaze he reached for a small tool from the side and began scratching at the stone in tiny, methodical strokes. He put down that tool only to pick up another and, as he continued working at it, said, ‘Do you mind if I ask where you got this from?’

‘It was taken from the premises of someone who’s recently died,’ I replied.

‘Dead man, you say. Well . . . this item has history. Two dead people are tied to this little trinket already. The man who crafted the metal in which the stone is set died several years ago. Possibly a decade now, I can’t quite remember. Oh, how time gets the better of us, Officer Drakenfeld!’

Nambu started to examine some of the images along the wall, under the watchful eye of Allius, the man on the door. Leana stepped in his line of sight, and let him see the blade on her waist. Though I didn’t feel threatened by his presence, this was just one of hundreds of occasions where I was glad that Leana was close by.

I turned my attention to Vallamon once again. ‘You’re quite certain of who made it?’

‘Oh yes, it’s Harred all right,’ Vallamon said, placing down the tools and once again holding up the ring, tilting it this way and that. ‘You can tell from the way the silver is worked, the tiny leaf motifs. He was never that good – he liked to knock out these things quickly, to take the coin and forget about craftsmanship. You would not catch me working so casually.’

‘Can you tell us anything about Harred?’

Vallamon turned around to face us, still holding the ring. ‘No, just a very average jeweller. Nothing remarkable about him. He was a quiet man. I do not think he had a wife, and certainly there was no son or daughter to take on his business after he passed away. He used to do all sorts of jobs – he wasn’t picky, couldn’t say no, never asked questions. Just piled on the work. That’s the mentality of a man who grew up in harder times, I’d say. The last two decades have been very prosperous for the jewellers, so there was not really any need for such an attitude.’

Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t say no. Perhaps just the right man to set a stone of questionable origin.

‘So do you think this ring is interesting in any way,’ I asked, ‘or is it merely a piece of ornamentation? Only the man who’d worn this wasn’t really one given to wearing rings – or any jewellery for that matter.’

‘There’s something interesting about this,’ Vallamon said, holding up the ring but not handing it over. ‘Yes indeed. I am sorry to say that the gemstone is one that I’ve never before seen, not in my forty years in the trade. An educated fellow might think it a poor quality ruby, but it really is not – it’s far softer than a ruby. The
way
it’s been cut reminds me of a diamond in many ways, but again the softness, and look at the shallowness of the colour. Very unusual. One assumes that something like this would be heavily polished as well, but . . . No. A dullness. And, very faintly, an unusual coral-like texture. Remarkable stone. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Vallamon appeared to consider something for a moment and then said, ‘I’ll buy it off you. How much would you like for it?’

‘It’s not for sale,’ I declared.

Vallamon tilted up his chin as if to look down at me – which was quite an effort given his lack of height. ‘That is a great shame. I would like to present it to a few apprentices as a potential new discovery. The guild, of which I am in charge, would thrive with a good debate over this. We’d record it, of course, and speculate—’

‘The ring is not for sale,’ I repeated. ‘But if you, an expert, seem so bamboozled by this stone, I would like to know where an
ordinary
man might acquire one. And why he would keep that hard-to-find stone hidden from view . . .’

‘Was this the only example of the stone you have found?’

‘Potentially another item had been made,’ I replied. ‘A small amulet.’

‘A second specimen . . .’ Vallamon breathed.

‘We haven’t got that – it was taken,’ I replied. ‘Possibly it was stolen, or maybe it has gone missing. But there is a strong chance that the stone was the same. I showed this one to the wife of the man who had worn the amulet, and she was of the impression it was the same colour.’

Vallamon had presented himself as someone potentially very useful in future. I reached into my pocket and drew out two gold coins, probably enough to purchase some of his cheapest wares. ‘The first coin,’ I said, ‘is for your help and time today.’

‘Much appreciated,’ Vallamon replied stiffly.

‘The second coin is if you could put out an information request in whatever circles you possess – networks that stretch from town to town, tradesmen, your guild, whatever it is – about such a gemstone. Especially where it might have come from. My full name is Officer Lucan Drakenfeld, and I can be found at the palace under the address of the queen’s second secretary, Sulma Tan. Phrase your request in whatever technical terms you wish – I’m sure they’ll be better than the words I have used to describe the stone.’

‘You pay well for information,’ Vallamon muttered.

‘This information could be critical in solving two brutal murders,’ I replied.

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘So this is in connection with Bishop Tahn Valin and the famous Grendor of the Cape?’

‘How did you know?’

‘Nothing remains a secret in the prefecture for long. He was a good fellow, Grendor – he came in here from time to time, but he only ever bought for his lovely young wife. I never spotted any curious pieces of jewellery upon him. I will consider your request as a favour to Grendor’s family.’

Vallamon slid the other gold coin back across to me and, as I met his proud gaze, my estimation of the businessman increased.

Horse dung and woodsmoke filled the air. A priest gave a sermon by a fountain nearby, though no one was listening to him. The three of us continued through the humid streets.

‘Well?’ Nambu asked.

‘Well what?’

‘Well, that was useless.’

‘Was it?’

‘Stop answering questions with questions,’ she said.

‘Why?’ I replied, trying to hide my amusement at her impatience. ‘OK, I’m sorry. But come now, Nambu, what makes you think that was a useless meeting? I’m serious.’

‘He told you nothing. We got no information. Therefore it was useless.’

‘Some might think so, but not me. Vallamon revealed a great many things that we needed to know. We know that the ring is special – that it is very rare, enough to puzzle an expert of his pedigree. It makes me think that the stone is significant to this case. If it’s the same kind of stone as in the missing amulet owned by Grendor, then it’s
incredibly
significant. The connection – and whatever it might throw up – could be the key. Indeed, one might speculate that if anyone else wore a stone like this, they would have good cause to be worried.’

‘It would be worth trying to send a message out to those citizens of the prefecture . . .’ Leana added.

‘Maybe. If we dressed up the message as one of public safety . . . It also means that those individuals might come forward, and give us more information.’

‘Though I do not think they will come forward,’ Leana said. ‘These people will most likely have something to hide.’

‘True,’ I said. ‘If they fear for their lives because of what happened to Grendor and the bishop then they might want protection or even to not draw attention to themselves.’

‘They will have something to hide. Some secret.’

Nambu asked the question, before I could. ‘Why would you think that?’

Leana addressed Nambu. ‘Think. People do not die
horrible
deaths for no good reason. Thought has gone into them. There has to be something behind such killings – as with most killings. If the precious stone is the link, then those people who have the stone have probably done the same thing as those who have been killed. They will be in fear for their lives, yes, but if their past is so bad it gets them killed . . .’

‘You make a good point,’ I said. ‘I hadn’t thought of it quite like that.’

Nambu was quiet on the issue. Part of me wondered if she knew what she was letting herself in for, though I suspected her days were going to be more interesting than she originally thought, and more stimulating than shuffling to and fro down those echoing palace corridors. ‘So where do we go now?’ Nambu asked.