His colleague Fulcrom entered the room. 'Have you heard these extraordinary rumours about the Empress and her sister? They're planning to execute them on the city wall tomorrow evening.'
Jeryd whistled in astonishment. 'Whose call?'
'Council decision, it seems. The arch-inquisitor approved the judgement apparently. She was planning to have all the refugees killed, but was arrested at the Snow Ball by the chancellor, who intercepted her plans and put both Rika and Eir on trial late last night. Quite the show apparently. They tried to deny it, but the documents were there for all to see, and many of the councillors confessed that Rika had approached them, consulting on issues like disposing of bodies and the like. Some claimed that the sisters had issued beatings from guards to silence them, and one guard – someone I'm sure has links to Urtica – admitted this. They said they were glad of the opportunity to get it all out in the open. They praised Urtica for his guile in seeing that the Empire's people were safe. And despite all this stuff on the surface, deep down in the heart of the city, it seems people really are being taken in to be killed.'
Jeryd took it all in, nodding slowly, not really surprised, but it didn't stop him feeling disgusted over what went on up there, in that black vault of Balmacara. 'It couldn't be Lady Rika that organized the underground killings. It just couldn't be.'
'No,' Fulcrom agreed. 'I reckon this is to do with certain councillors… and Ovinists. It's something much darker to take advantage of this distraction. It's all been worked out in complex detail, so whoever's in the Ovinists… well, they're certainly smart.'
Jeryd said, 'This is Urtica's work, all right, all of it, and we've not got one damn piece of evidence against him. Our only witness, if you can call her that, is both a prostitute and a murderer, and if we say a single word out of line, we'll be thrown in some cell and forgotten about – that's if we're lucky. Urtica must have a huge network of his damn cult in operation, from labourers to Inquisition personnel to councillors. The trial's got to be a smokescreen, something to focus everyone's attention on while he's engaged in the business of genocide.'
Fulcrom added, 'Updates are being nailed to the doors of every tavern in the city, and even after midnight I saw a huge crowd around one.'
'Did you see what it said?'
'Said something about the dark Empress turning on her own people. If he genuinely has organized all this, then he's the master propagandist. I can't believe the audacity.'
Jeryd laughed. 'If you've known politicians for as long as I have.' He shook his head, remembering the news stories that the Inquisition had to keep under wraps for the good of the people, so they were told. Cover-ups of the murders of union leaders, the provision of weaponry to various rival tribes to destabilize a region, servants charged with spying. 'They were bad enough before these Ovinists got involved, the ubiquitous bastards.'
Fulcrom frowned. 'Ovinists are everywhere,' he said. 'Can we even trust each other?'
During the pause, the two rumel eyed each other steadily, knowing the question was totally unnecessary. Jeryd chuckled to himself and muttered, 'Fulcrom, if I was an Ovinist, the first thing I'd do would be to make sure I was in a better job than this.'
Fulcrom seemed to like that.
Jeryd continued, 'So who the hell d'you think will take over the Jamur Empire? Can you imagine that pompous git Urtica being in charge?'
Fulcrom shrugged. 'Not our call to make.'
'No, indeed.' Jeryd took a moment to rid himself of splenetic thoughts. 'So, to business. We've got some people to save.'
Fulcrom moved nearer to Jeryd. 'Soldiers have made some movements around one of the tunnels. It's the one they're letting the first wave of refugees into, and it's one of the older tunnels. I've got it marked on a map.'
'Good,' Jeryd said. 'Any idea how many?' So this is it. It's really happening.
Fulcrom shook his head. 'No, all I got was the tip-off. As for some help, I've managed to round up a few of the young investigators who still have principles.'
'Can they be trusted, though?'
'They know what they're in for and just how secret this must be.'
'Fair enough.' Jeryd knew he could rely on Fulcrom's selection. 'There's just one thing we've to do on the way.'
*
Jeryd knocked hard on the metal door of Mayter Sidhe's house of banshees, as Fulcrom glanced left and right along the snow-covered street. Only a few people were out and about, hunched under so many layers of clothing that you could hardly see their faces.
It took much longer than usual for the door to open. That alerted Jeryd's suspicions, but he knew something was definitely wrong when Mayter Sidhe answered the door herself.
'Investigator,' she said, her blue eyes a shade dimmer than previously. She glanced nervously at Fulcrom.
'It's OK, he's with me,' Jeryd said.
'You'd better come in,' she beckoned.
No fragrance this time, no welcoming fire. The place was as cold as the street outside. A couple of chairs were broken and left in the shadow of the stairway.
'Where are the others?'
She gestured for the two rumel to sit down, but they insisted on standing.
'Why are you here?' she asked.
'We just want a chat,' Jeryd said, and told her everything he could about the threat to the refugees, going on to state that he would appreciate it if the banshees would forbear to draw attention to any conspirators' deaths that might occur during his intended raid on the tunnels.
'This explains much,' she sighed. Her expression was full of sadness.
'Explains what?' Jeryd said.
'Wait here a moment.' She left the room and returned with one of the younger banshees, looking like a smaller replica of herself.
Jeryd was about to say something, but Mayter Sidhe held up her hand to silence him. She turned to the girl. 'Show the investigator.'
The young woman shook her head, manically, her eyes filled with a fear Jeryd had never seen before.
'Show the investigator,' Mayter Sidhe repeated insistently.
After a moment, the girl opened her mouth.
Her tongue was missing. Scar tissue had already begun to blossom. Jeryd grimaced, glancing at Fulcrom who also looked appalled. The girl began to sob, then hurriedly left the room.
'A few nights ago,' Mayter Sidhe said calmly, 'some masked men broke into our house. They did this to everyone – took the tongues of everyone apart from me. I was the only one not at home. A couple of the girls bled to death on their beds, including my youngest who was only ten.'
'Who did this?' Jeryd asked horrified.
'I wasn't here to see. And none of them can now tell me exactly what went on. All my girls are forever silenced.'
Jeryd couldn't find the words to express his disgust.
'So you see,' she continued, 'someone has already asked for much the same favour that you did, just a little more forcefully.'
Mayter Sidhe would say nothing further.
Jeryd knew instantly what was going on. Whoever intended to kill the refugees had realized that the banshees would soon raise the alarm over death on such a large scale. Their screams would inevitably draw in someone to investigate.
So the witch women of Villjamur had been made inert, silenced for good.
*
Jeryd greeted the assembled investigators with a curt nod as they huddled in a damp, mould-covered underground passage. There were a couple of sword tips poking out beneath cloaks, and a ceaseless drip of water somewhere added to the gloom of the melancholy room.
Jeryd had considered it best for everyone to remain anonymous to each other, so he had assigned each of the young rumel a number from one to ten. After briefing them all precisely, he and Fulcrom again consulted some
