per se, merely scientific ramblings on physiognomy or etymology.
So then, another conspiracy that goes right to the top… Just how much corruption makes this realm what it is? I'm too old for this. I can't fight an Empire like this one.
But who could he tell about this discovery? Jeryd didn't know anyone in Villiren well enough to trust them.
He pocketed the journal and the loose pages, and wondered what he might do with them.
Then he went down further steps, carrying the lantern towards the basement where a strange metallic smell lingered. He found a wall-hung cresset and lit it, more for peace of mind than for anything else. It was damn eerie down here, so the more light the better. Along the constricted path, winding around a corner, and there was now a change in the way the air moved, signifying to Jeryd that he had arrived in a vast chamber.
Light was lost to the corners, so he found a coloured lantern and some matches to light it. Metal implements hung from the walls, and there was a dripping sound from the far end.
Suddenly he spotted several dark figures lined up against the wall to his right. He moved tentatively in their direction, before raising a hand to his mouth in shock. His tail became perfectly still.
Seven corpses were suspended with hooks driven through their throats, their tongues hanging out uselessly. They were naked and bruised, and streaked with dried blood. One was even skinless, the muscles and veins exposed horrifically. On the body at the far end, a rip in the throat caused by the weight of the body dragging on it suggested that it had been hanging there for some time.
Further along on a workbench stood two massive metal trays that reminded him of those he'd seen at Doctor Tarr's mortuary back in Villjamur. He wasn't surprised to find them full of internal organs, which he assumed could only be human. As he moved the lantern over them, they glistened slickly, confirming they were relatively fresh. An inert eyeball stared up at him and he drew back with a shudder.
None of this was set out as if to aid a crime investigation, however, with Jeryd being called in to look at some remains. These cadavers were destined for the dinner plates of ordinary people across Villiren, and it was possibly the most despicable activity he had ever witnessed. He was standing inside a human meat factory.
The smell was overpowering and he turned away, to prevent himself from gagging. Reluctantly, with a handkerchief over his mouth, he began jotting down notes and making sketches, detailing every horror on display.
*
In the dim light of the obsidian chamber, Commander Brynd Lathraea faced Jeryd across the table with a despairing smile. A small tray of refreshments had been brought to them, and Jeryd eyed the food suspiciously. 'No thank you… I'm, uh, on a diet.' I don't trust anything now that I haven't seen being prepared.
He had just informed the commander about the fate of the missing people, and what it probably meant about the missing Night Guard soldier, revealing every detail and nuance about the case.
'I find this all rather difficult to believe,' Brynd murmured.
And who could blame him? Jeryd spoke of the confessions. He showed the commander Voland's journal, then his own notebook, tilting it sideways and pointing out the corpses and the various implements he had sketched.
'Human flesh, distributed through the city? And, you suspect this was all at Urtica's request?'
'I do,' Jeryd confirmed. He revealed the incident concerning the refugees back in Villjamur, where Urtica had arranged for large numbers of refugees to be eliminated; that because Jeryd had delved too deep into those affairs, he had had to flee to Villiren.
'So, anyway, Voland basically admitted that he had a contract with Urtica. The guy is entirely honest about his own participation in the events. And it's not just that – it seems the portreeve knew about it also, even supplying the names of political enemies he wanted eliminated, to make his life easier.'
The albino seemed to contemplate this information for some time, and Jeryd could have sworn the man's eyes burned even redder than before.
'I myself am having trouble contacting the portreeve at the moment,' Brynd finally said. 'No one seems to be able to find him. Those close to him suggest he's already fled the city because of the bombs. It matters little, anyhow – I've taken measures ensuring full military control of Villiren. As for following up the allegations of corruption, unfortunately they will have to wait.'
'So it goes.'
'And, Nanzi, your aide – the girl who came in here all this time. You really had no idea?'.
'She's an utter psychopath. You know the two of them genuinely think they're doing a good thing, right? They actually think this helps the city. Keeps everyone else alive. She helps the population with her work at the Inquisition, and in her head it's the same thing as feeding them.'
'A perverse logic,' Brynd admitted.
An interruption to their meeting – a messenger entered the room to whisper into his superior's ear, then left with urgency. Jeryd tried to read the commander's expression, without success – this man did not give much away.
Brynd gave a sad smile. 'I believe, investigator, that a more forceful attack on Villiren is imminent.'
'You reckon you can save the city?'
Brynd located some deep place inside himself and stared into it. 'Let me explain something to you: the portreeve has nurtured a terrible culture here. I'm not sure of his methods, but I've never witnessed more drug use, or known of more brothels. Thieves openly help themselves to goods on the stalls, people pay to watch violent acts in underground theatres. Lutto says that citizens are, on average, wealthier and healthier.'
'I'd suggest those figures are skewed,' Jeryd interrupted. 'From what I've seen, the people on the streets have very little, while the gang members and dodgy traders continue to piss all their wealth up against a wall.'
'The gangs control everything here, investigator,' the commander said, 'and the portreeve rewards them by leaving them to bask in their pleasures and vices, and to sell such lifestyles to the citizens.'
'Barely any crime seems to get reported,' Jeryd agreed.
The commander smiled, as if he had been leading Jeryd to say it was so. 'And what does that indicate to you?'
Jeryd thought about this. 'That most of the people in the city are criminals anyway, or at least condone this culture.'
'So contemplate your question once again, on whether or not I can save Villiren.'
'The city', Jeryd concluded, 'has already fallen.'
'Yet we must press on, out of duty. If you have anyone you love, now's probably the time to get them down to the tunnels and away to safety. I expect you yourself will still be able to fight?'
Those words hit him like a low punch in the stomach. The situation had till now been on the periphery of his conscience – that he might actually have to fight – and being so concerned with the missing persons he had almost forgotten about the possibility.
'I'm ready for anything,' Jeryd lied.
F ORTY
Malum's life hadn't always been as screwed up as it was now, though even as a kid he'd had it tough – his father walked out on his mother before he even really knew the man. There were a lot of young men in the Bloods in a similar position. Maybe that's why such a band of men had formed in the first place, through looking to each other for some kind of guidance. It was why he had once tried so hard to be a good father…
He'd been walking across Villiren for hours now, and he still didn't know for sure how far he'd travelled. The streets were empty at this time of day, pre-dawn, and it was only then that he realized he'd been awake all night. A sea fog blanketed the city, the lines of the streets and the few tall buildings hidden indefinitely.
He badly missed Beami – who'd have thought it? For the first time in his life he had been humbled and, like a fat blade, the experience had sliced him open. He wasn't someone who was used to brooding about his wounds.
With the impending conflict likely to wipe out the city, he had probably lost any chance of finding her again.
