The men glanced to their leader, who sneered and made a motion with his hands. The swords came down. Assaulting a keeper was a very serious crime.
‘Well, then,’ said the head guard, ‘we will help you escort her to the holding cells – just in case you decide to stand around while she escapes again.’
His tone implied that he would back down no further, and Bel suppressed the urge to force him to. Little did these men know that, if he’d wanted to, Bel could have left them all in tatters. He nodded stiffly.
‘Come, then. Help me with the girl, and that grip of yours better not be any tighter than it need be.’
‘Nor yours any looser,’ retorted the guard, and together they lifted the miserable Jaya from the ground.
Twenty-nine
Behind Bars and Beyond
‘Where is she?’ demanded Lord Cydus. He stood at the desk in the foyer of the keepers’ headquarters, flanked by two of his brutish guards.
Captain Hosarus took a well-chewed straw from his mouth. ‘In a holding cell, my lord,’ he answered flatly. Bel stood behind him, glad his superior had taken an instant dislike to this man.
Cydus puffed up his already puffy cheeks. He was short and dumpy with a square brown beard and twirled moustache, both painstakingly well tended yet not managing to hide the pockmarked and blotchy skin beneath. His eyes were red-rimmed and his clothes looked hastily thrown on. He had obviously been asleep until very recently.
‘I have some questions for her, captain,’ Cydus said. ‘You will let my men speak to her.’
‘I’m afraid not, lord,’ said Hosarus steadily. ‘She will remain here until an overseer can question her. That is the law.’
‘Don’t play games with me!’ spat Cydus. ‘That little bitch came into my home and vandalised a precious vase! It was an intended gift, in fact, to the visiting Trusted, and I will not go to her, having already pledged it, with nothing!’ He stamped a foot, making Hosarus’s eyebrows go up as it came down. ‘She will pay, if I have to take it out of her hide, by Arkus!’
‘I’m afraid my lord is overly upset,’ Hosarus said. ‘Perhaps it would be best if he returned home and finished the night’s sleep.’
‘I will see her!’ shouted Cydus, his face bright red. ‘She will learn she can’t muck around with Assicon Cydus or his property!’
The man tried to go around the desk and suddenly Bel was blocking his way.
‘I suggest you step back, Lord Cydus,’ he said. ‘You cannot enter here, nor your men.’
Cydus’s moustache twitched about like a worm on a hook. ‘The Throne will hear of this matter, and of your disrespect!’ he said.
He spun and marched out of the building, snapping his fingers at his men to follow. They did so, after final hard looks at Bel and the captain. When they were gone, Hosarus sighed.
‘Bloody lords and ladies,’ he said, putting the straw back in his mouth. ‘They think they own the place.’
‘Excuse me, captain,’ said Bel. ‘But what will happen to her now? The girl, I mean.’
‘Just what I said. Due process. Now you also go home and get some sleep. I don’t want you snoring on your feet tomorrow.’
Bel paused, but his captain remained steadfast with hands on hips. Bel found that he, like Cydus, was forced to retreat.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Hosarus. ‘Cydus won’t get near her.’
‘Yes, captain,’ was all Bel could think to say, and he stepped out again into the night.
Bel was face down in his pillow the next morning when a knocking sounded at his door. He woke reluctantly, sitting up to rub tired eyes. The knocking came again more loudly.
‘All right ,’ he said. ‘I’m not supposed to be up yet anyway!’
Sliding on a pair of trousers, he walked to the door. Upon opening it he blinked in surprise – his visitor was Baygis, holding a tray with a steaming pot and two mugs.
‘Lord Baygis,’ he said, becoming self-conscious of his near nakedness. ‘I, er …’
‘Never mind, Bel,’ said Baygis, moving past him into the roofless living room, now lit up by the morning light. The bedroom was off to one side, with a ceiling to keep the sun from tired eyes. ‘Sorry for waking you,’ he said, smiling at the bleary Bel. ‘I’ve brought tea as a gesture of apology.’ He placed the tray on the table, swept back his white-gold robe and looked expectant.
‘Have a seat, lord,’ said Bel, searching around for a shirt to pull on.
‘Thank you,’ said Baygis. He sat and poured hot tea. ‘Been a while since I had reason to visit the soldiers’ quarters,’ he said, and took a test sip. ‘Mmm. Not bad for barracks brew.’
Bel had always liked Baygis, though he’d never had much to do with him. As an ambassador the man was a respected master of negotiation, and as overseer was reputed to be fair and even-tempered. He also had a charmingly mischievous side that created constant stress for the Throne and gossip for the court. Bel found it odd, and more than a little intimidating, to have the sleek, well-groomed lord sitting opposite him in his rooms before he’d even had a chance for bath or breakfast.
‘What can I do for you, my lord?’ he asked.
‘Ah,’ smiled Baygis, ‘the obvious question. Fair enough, I suppose, when one is so rudely interrupted of a morning. I understand you arrested a thief last night, whom you caught breaking into the Kadass residence of the worthy and honourable Assicon Cydus?’ There was only the sneakiest note of sarcasm in Baygis’s voice.
‘I did, lord,’ said Bel, the thought of Jaya now truly waking him. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Politics has happened,’ said Baygis, spooning more sugar into his mug. He misread the look of concern on Bel’s face and gave a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble. One of Cydus’s private guards complained about your conduct, but given your record, and his, we don’t feel compelled to take him seriously. I always wonder about nobles who opt for hired swords over the trained soldiers they have every right to be allocated.’ He swirled the spoon. ‘So,’ he continued, ‘this is the situation: the only thing the girl did in the house, as far as we can tell, was pour ink all over a valuable vase that Cydus bought in Tulzan. You know of Tulzan?’
‘A village in lower Dennali,’ recited Bel, ‘on the northern border of the Hinter Swamplands. They are noted masters of ceramics and use a special clay from the swamp.’
‘Ah,’ said Baygis, eyes twinkling, ‘another casualty of Fahren’s geography lessons. I suffered them myself for many years. Yes, that is Tulzan. It is also where Cydus holds his estate, and one of the reasons he graces us with his presence in Kadass so often – the insects bite like dragons down there and the weather is awful.’ Baygis blew on his tea. ‘Anyway, Cydus says the vase is an expensive piece from a master craftsman, and having seen it myself I tend to believe him. Probably worth a hundred gold at least …until it got stained by black ink. A strange crime indeed, and I’m curious to question the girl about her motives.’
‘So you are the overseer on this?’ said Bel, unable to keep tension from his voice.
‘Yes, indeed,’ answered Baygis. ‘Cydus demands a fast hearing. He intended the vase to be a gift to the wasp Trusted, and now that it’s ruined, he’s embarrassed – having already bragged about the gift at the palace reception yesterday. He’s been up at the Halls all morning, putting on a great display of anger for the Trusted’s benefit, demanding that the Throne look into the matter quickly. Normally, of course, my good father would tell Cydus to go and soak his balls in hot water, or something equally incisive, but the Zyvanix are an odd people and the Throne is afraid to cause them offence. He wants to concentrate on the real matters at hand and hence is dealing with this distraction in the easiest way possible – namely, by dragging in his overseer son to deal with it. So,’ he spread his palms on the table, ‘what I’d like to do is hear your version of events before I go and see this girl.’