Darius was once again going through the documents he'd received from General Leigher. So far, the only thing regarding the murder that added up was that Caim Rocha was dead. The question was whether to take into account the boy who had been taken by the plague twenty-five years ago, or the City Watchman who had been killed a week ago in a cruel and somewhat mysterious manner.
Upon returning from Elder Jome, the colonel ordered that three of the victim's acquaintances be found and that the village be searched for anyone matching the description of the soldier who had been seen with Rocha on the day of the murder. Ethman and McKinnon were only too willing to act as guides for the Guardsmen and point out the people they remembered.
In this way, Bleist gained a moment to himself and his thoughts. The mounting contradictory information was slowly giving him a headache, and somewhere deep inside, a malicious little voice was telling him that the problems would begin once he finally got down to serious business. He sighed heavily as he put the papers away.
'I won't get anything more out of them,' he muttered into the emptiness of the room.
He cast another glance at a few items found in the ruined room. The Guards had discovered several personal belongings amongst the rubble: scraps of clothing, an old hunting knife, and a small prayer book signed with the initials CR. Interestingly, the latter was written in Latin and looked worn from frequent use.
'This isn't in the files either,' he added with a touch of irritation, thinking of yet another gap in the information. According to the records, Caim Rocha did not belong to any faith and had a rather indifferent attitude towards the gods, and yet it turned out he must have been quite devout. As Darius did not know Latin, it was difficult for him to determine which of the gods the victim worshipped. It did not help at all that the entire prayer book was a solid block of text devoid of any ornamentation.
He had nothing to even point him in the direction he needed to go. It seemed as though everything had conspired against him. He did, however, hope to glean something from Caim's supposed acquaintances.
He gathered up the rest of his belongings and stretched. The long hours in the saddle and the rather unfriendly climate were also taking their toll on him. It had been a long time since he'd had to spend so much time on the road, and certainly not in armour. It was hard to admit, but he'd grown out of the habit.
He rose from the table and walked over to the window overlooking the square in front of the inn. The village, bathed in glaring sunlight, seemed deserted. Not even the slightest movement was visible. The emptiness struck Darius as peculiar and suspicious, though he was all too aware of the reason for this state of affairs. The sweltering heat poured mercilessly in through the tall windows, inducing a sense of weariness and aversion to everything. Once again, Bleist envied his apprentice's insensitivity to temperature.
'Dragons have it easier,' he muttered listlessly and stepped away from the window, fed up with the heat beating down from outside.
Darius crossed the hall and entered a windowless room, which was nonetheless flooded with light streaming in through a skylight in the roof. It was cooler here thanks to a small pond situated in the middle of the floor and the mist of water spraying upwards from it. Without a second thought, Bleist sank onto a soft chaise longue. The quiet murmur had a calming effect, and the added relief made him relax. Earl gazed at the fountain, letting his thoughts wander freely. Not without surprise, he quickly caught himself thinking about the student. It was hard for the wizard to shake the feeling that he should be by Draco's side, rather than chasing after who knows what somewhere out in the provinces.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door coming from the next room.
'Come in,' he called out in a raised voice.
A moment later, Rex appeared in the doorway to the room with the pond, drenched in sweat. The corporal looked dreadful. He was covered in dust, his blue tunic seemed faded and sweat-soaked, and when he took off his helmet, it turned out that his hair was plastered to his skull. On top of that, the guard looked utterly exhausted.
Bleist's deputy walked wordlessly over to the other sofa and sat down heavily. For a moment he panted, staring at the gushing water, before finally abandoning all pretence and washing his face in the fountain.
'We managed to find all three of them,' he began as Darius handed him a jug of water. 'They were terrified and immediately started confessing to everything.' He added with a wry smile. 'From snacking on rations to petty theft. I couldn't believe you could say so much in a single breath.' He shook his head.
'And what interesting things did they say?' Bleist returned to his seat and focused on his interlocutor.
'I admit, Colonel, that at this point it's not exactly a revelation, but they didn't know our victim. What is interesting, however, is that they were persuaded to interact with Rocha by a certain soldier throwing gold coins about.'
'I presume the description matches the one the victim was arguing with.'
'Yes, it matches perfectly.' Rex raised the jug to his lips and drank in silence for a long time. 'With one small exception that Ethman and McKinnon might well have missed. All three testified that the soldier who ordered them to stage that scene was rather pale and had violet irises with almond-shaped pupils.'
'A vampire.' Darius tapped his fingers on the back of the chaise longue. 'He should be easier to find if he's still in the area.'
'After a week? If he had any sense at all, he'd have vanished long ago.'
Bleist just sighed. What did I expect? he thought bitterly. A name and an address?
'Did they say anything else?'
'Unfortunately not,' the corporal admitted resignedly. It was hard not to notice that he, too, was beginning to get frustrated by the whole affair.
'I doubt we'll find out anything useful in the village.'
'You're right, Colonel,' the Guard admitted reluctantly. 'Perhaps there'll be something useful in what the soldiers found.'
'I hope so.' Darius stood up and, deep in thought, began pacing back and forth. 'We also need to find out what caused the delay in delivering the documents to Atlantis and when the date was falsified.' He sighed heavily. He didn't even know where to start, and already he could feel the problems piling up. 'We've got a lot of work ahead of us.'
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Bleist shielded his eyes with his hand as he gazed at the city spread out on the opposite shore of the lake. Bushtabhar looked as though it had been plucked straight from The Arabian Nights. Towering above the buildings was a hill, at the summit of which stood a sandstone citadel bristling with towers and turrets, from which banners bearing a golden star fluttered in the breeze. Around it lay a sea of rooftops dotted with small gardens full of colourful plants. From this hive of activity emerged several more buildings — a vast temple consisting almost entirely of domes covered in multicoloured mosaics, a simple, massive building with whitewashed walls and a somewhat imposing appearance, a palace reminiscent of a royal residence, and a soaring obelisk rising somewhere between the other landmarks.
Despite the heat, even from a distance one could see activity in the harbour and on the lake itself. A swarm of people poured through the narrow streets, sheltered from the sun by colourful strips of fabric. A few smaller boats bobbed on the water, and a clunky ferry slowly made its way towards the buildings on the northern shore of the lake.
The view was magnificent, but the heat pouring down from the sky spoiled everything. Darius had had more than enough of the latter. With all his heart, he would have liked to be at home, enjoying the beautiful weather in pleasant, moderate warmth, but that was not to be.
'It looks like we'll make it in time for the next crossing.' Rex pointed to the ferry gliding sluggishly across the water.
'It'll be faster than if we tried to go all the way round the lake.' Darius stated the obvious. 'We'll get to the citadel sooner, get on with the job sooner, and be back home sooner.' He said this much more quietly, letting out a sigh.
'I'm dreaming of that too...' The corporal cleared his throat and glanced behind him.
Darius followed his example and looked back as well. Their small procession had stopped for a brief moment, and the Guards were looking around suspiciously. Ethman and McKinnon, whom the earl had decided to take along as witnesses, were managing quite well with the camels originating from the inn where the murder had taken place.
'I hope we don't stop at just dreaming,' muttered the colonel. It was hard to reprimand the corporal, knowing that his own thoughts were firmly centred on Ed'heer. 'We'll deal with the murder, then the agents, and finally Quel-naza. Everything will go quickly and smoothly, without any complications,' Darius whispered ironically.
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Reaching the northern port took less time than they had expected. The well-maintained, wide road significantly increased their pace, and the empty track ensured a smooth journey. Even when they reached the harbour, everything was made easier by the fact that, just as in the previous village, most people here too looked upon the Guards with terror and hurriedly moved out of their way. The exception were the worldly, experienced merchants, who expressed respect rather than fear. It was a pleasant change.
Fortunately, or perhaps rather thanks to the fear they inspired, they managed to board the barge they had seen earlier. As they were informed by the trembling ferryman, the journey to the other side would take them nearly two hours. They were, of course, not the only passengers. Most of the deck was taken up by a huge merchant caravan consisting of carts belonging to several traders. The mercenaries guarding them politely greeted the Guardsmen passing by, but it was clear they were still ready to resort to force.
Darius took up a position at the bow, gazing at Bushtabhar and pondering what other secrets the city held. He suspected it had plenty more up its sleeve, so many that Bleist couldn't count them all. And he certainly had no desire to waste his time on trivial matters.
'Colonel? ' Darius glanced over his shoulder. One of the Azure Guards was approaching him, accompanied by a halfling in a grey tunic and turban, and an obese merchant in a tight-fitting white robe, offering some form of cordial greeting to everyone he passed. 'These two gentlemen wish to speak with you.'
Bleist merely dismissed the Guard with a nod and summoned the waiting pair. Judging by their appearance, he had before him one of the merchants, most likely the most prominent one, and some sort of assistant.
'You gentlemen wished to have a word with me,' he began somewhat curtly.
The merchant bowed gracefully, introduced himself as Sathad ib Arrat, and began to speak rapidly. At the same time, the interpreter hurriedly translated his client's words. Generally speaking, the conversation, initially rather one-sided, began calmly, but very quickly turned to topics of keen interest to the merchant – complaints about the problems with armed gangs preying on the roads suddenly seemed to escalate into a nationwide issue. Although other matters of interest could also be gleaned from the tirade. Among other things, thieves posed a problem alongside the bandits. It was quite obvious, but Bleist was nonetheless somewhat surprised.
The most interesting thing, however, was the remark that came almost at the very end. The merchant shared, somewhat reluctantly, that he often came across bodies left behind by bandits, but it seemed strange that not a single item of their equipment was missing.
'And though it's good that here… there's more and more traffic… there are more caravans on the roads than there have been since the moon. These are good times,' he added undeterred. Darius took some interest, as this wasn't the first time such incidents had been circulating. And the connection between these events was causing consternation. 'Many have made a fortune from materials, oh yes. Good timber is more in demand than usual.' The interpreter tried to keep up with the merchant, who seemed only just to be getting into his stride as he listed the types of wood that sold best in Bushtabhar.
'If I may, I'd like to find out more about those bodies.' The colonel tried to gently interrupt his interlocutor. The interpreter quickly said something to the merchant, who nodded in understanding.
'Mr. ib Arrat admits with regret that he has previously found bodies and battlefields in the sites of former merchant camps.' The halfling had a chance to catch his breath, as the conversation slowed considerably. 'It looked like a fight, but afterwards no one heard or saw anything. Everyone suspected what had happened, but no one dared to say it out loud.' The merchant shook his head. 'Back home, in the south, if two caravans have a conflict, they settle it on solid ground. But here? No one cares, and if blood has to be spilled, it's strength that counts.'
'You have to keep an eye on everything going on around you.' Darius gave a wry smile as he saw the approaching quay and the soldiers waiting there in their immaculately clean uniforms. 'Gentlemen, please excuse me, but duty calls.' He smiled and walked off towards his mount.