Drakenfeld (29 page)

We wandered through the backstreets, away from prying eyes. Titiana was, of course, a married woman, so secrecy was essential; I’ll admit that was something of a
thrill.

Tryum’s citizens seemed to behave strangely at this hour. Half-veiled figures drifted in and out of doorways, as if on some illicit business. The city changed its texture completely, as if
a new cast of characters had been brought on stage. I half-expected Senator Veron to be following in the distance, swigging wine from a cup and cheering me on.

Titiana led me slowly across the neighbourhoods of Polyum, to an establishment she had always wanted to eat at, but could never afford. She told me that, since I was the one paying, she
wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to eat there.

The tavern was a remarkably charming place, a subterranean establishment built beneath a temple, right on the border with Regallum. Inside there were hundreds of candles, mirrors, ornate
coloured glassware, beautifully crafted wooden furniture, with plenty of happy guests drinking and enjoying its relaxing ambience. From its location, and assessing all these fine decorations on
display, I had the impression that a lot of senators might dine there, and I could only imagine the kind of deals that had been struck in the alcoves.

We were seated at a table at the far end of the tavern, a small booth tucked away from the hubbub. A jug was brought over by a serving girl and, as she poured wine into two cups, she told us the
owner would be with us shortly to talk about tonight’s dishes. The place was heady with the smell of delicious food, the kind that seemed a world away from what I’d happily snacked on
in Plutum and Barrantum.

A man at the table beside us, handsome, but dressed in a shabby brown tunic and unshaven, didn’t seem to fit in with the other drinkers and diners. He had by him a small drum and I
wondered if he was a busker. He looked up at me and gave a warm and toothy smile.

The tavern owner strode over to welcome us; he was a middle-aged man of ample proportions, dressed in a wonderfully ornate red tunic. From memory, he proceeded to list several of the dishes that
were available. I had been used to austere meals in Venyn City and was amazed at the delights on offer, but in the end I opted for the simple spiced fish dish. Titiana said she would have the same,
and the tavern owner left us alone. He turned to the table nearby, where the man with the drum was finishing up and they were discussing payment.

Titiana smiled and looked around the tavern, and the lack of conversation between us was not at all awkward. It was as if we were slowly remembering how we used to act together. From the other
table I overheard a discussion between the two men. The man with the drum was asking for forgiveness for not being able to produce enough money.

‘My deepest apologies, I assure you,’ the busker said. ‘I have coin at the home where I am staying – it is but a short trip. Please, if I leave this drum here with you,
as insurance, I will retrieve it and return.’

‘That instrument?’ the tavern owner asked, dissatisfied with the offer.

‘The drum, yes. It’s very precious to me – it is my employment around the city. Without it, I’m nothing.’

‘All right . . . But you’ll get back quickly?’

‘Before the night is done I will return,’ the busker urged. ‘I need my drum for tomorrow where I am playing for an important family in Polyum.’

‘Hurry up,’ the owner warned.

‘Of course, of course.’

I turned to watch the tavern owner holding the drum while the shabbily dressed busker headed out of the door. Shaking his head, the owner turned to walk past us.

‘Sir,’ I called, and whispered, ‘that drum in your hand.’

He leaned in closer. ‘This thing?’

‘The man who gave it to you is about to con you,’ I said.

‘Never!’

‘I’m afraid so – it’s a very old trick. He’ll most likely be working with a partner, someone who will be in the tavern tonight, and probably very well dressed. He
or she will then tell you that this instrument is worth a great deal of money, that it is a Detratan collectable or something like that, and they’ll then try to convince you to let them buy
it off its owner for a large sum.’

‘What are you on about?’

‘He’ll then hope you buy it from the busker, who doesn’t know the alleged true value of the instrument, for a much smaller price. You’re meant to think you can sell it
back to the well-dressed man for a huge profit, but all that will happen is that you hand over a lot of cash for what is, ultimately, a cheap drum. Meanwhile, they’ll have shared the coin and
not even be in the same neighbourhood by the time you notice.’

‘You seem very sure,’ he laughed.

‘I have seen it done in many other taverns in cities across this continent. You’re not the first. You’ll not be the last. It is a very old trick.’

‘You’re a cynical man,’ he replied. ‘People are better than that!’

‘That may be so, but keep hold of that drum and wait to be approached – then you can comment fairly on my nature.’

With a cautious glare the tavern owner nodded and took his drum to the countertop nearby, placing it beside the sacks of fresh bread.

Titiana frowned at me, and gave a short laugh. ‘He’s right, you seem very sure of yourself.’

‘With the drum, I am, at least. Not so much with you it seems.’

‘You were confident enough last night.’ All I was getting was a half-smile, but I had waited for years to see just that much. ‘Yet you claim to struggle with me now?’

I shrugged. ‘Love makes things more difficult.’

‘Love. You said you loved me right before you gave me the wound on my back.’ The half-smile remained on her face. ‘If that is what you think of love, then you’re better
off without it.’

This wasn’t going to be easy. Over the years I had speculated on this imaginary conversation, of how it would go and how we would both act, but in my head my words had come out
effortlessly, and she had been a lot less hostile. I was better off sweeping away criminals from the streets of Vispasia, than trying to form pretty sentences with her.

‘Titiana, you might have married and started a new life, but I never really moved on. I’ve never had the opportunity to find a partner, or start a family. I’ve simply travelled
from city to city, from street to street, dealing with those at the edge of the civilized world.’

‘You made your choices,’ she replied. ‘I notice that you can’t seem to apologize for your actions.’

Was it only pride from making me do so? ‘I am sorry for what happened, and for my part in it. I’m truly sorry.’

It didn’t seem that difficult, after all, to say the word.

Though we sat in silence for a few moments, it felt as if a tension had been ever so slightly dissolved. We could relax. The serving girl brought over a complimentary bowl of olives and a tiny
loaf of sourdough bread, a refreshing gesture that would probably be reflected in the final bill. As she left a smartly dressed man in polished boots and a rich silver tunic with gold hem
approached the tavern owner. After a moment of easy-going conversation, he pointed towards the drum.

Titiana must have caught me looking. She leaned forward, her face caught in the warm glow of the candlelight. ‘Now that it seems you’re right about this busker, are you going to be
as unbearable as I suspect?’

Smiling, I shook my head. ‘I’m certainly not as bad as I once may have been. I’ve been involved in rather more important matters than this – which is simply one of the
oldest confidence tricks going. It’s fascinating. Watch him: he’s full of charm, wearing the finest clothes, in order to gain the owner’s trust. It’s all very well
planned.’

We observed the conversation between the men for a moment longer. Eventually the man in the crimson tunic walked out of the tavern.

The owner approached our table with a haughty look on his face. ‘Consider your meal free if you can tell me what happens next and, more importantly, how to make sure I am not conned out of
any coin!’

I leaned back in my chair. ‘You’re OK for now. The busker will return, but all you really need to do is make sure he pays for his meal, and then you simply hand back the drum. He may
seem hesitant – surprised, even – but simply concentrate on making sure you collect payment for his meal. Accept nothing else. He should leave you alone after that, and will probably
head off to attempt this again in a more unlucky establishment.’

He nodded and turned to Titiana, gently pressing down on her hand. ‘If you ask me, you should keep hold of this fellow – in Tryum, there are too few like him.’

The expression on her face alone was worth the price of a dinner.

We ate our meal in a more pleasant mood than I could have possibly hoped for. What’s more, I couldn’t remember eating more flavoursome food: the taste of the fish
was so intense and tender.

We talked, and I tried desperately to make her laugh in order to hear what it sounded like again. A hundred memories flashed back before my eyes. I didn’t know how accurate they were,
given the layer of sentiments within them, but those moments from our younger days returned: day trips riding out to the coast; making love in the garden of the Temple of Festonia; long, hot days
where we’d go swimming, then wade onto the shore where I’d proceed to kiss her skin under a ferocious sun. It didn’t really matter where we went or what we did, just as long as we
had each other’s company, and our affair lasted for months without anyone ever knowing what we were up to. Was it any surprise I hadn’t really moved on?

Gradually, Titiana opened up to me – not much at first, but enough for me to know she no longer loathed me. Which was, ultimately, progress. It turned out she was living in Vellyum, which
wasn’t as bad as things could have been. Her husband was a wine merchant for the middle classes, and spent much of his time out of the city ensuring the trade was running smoothly.

He was still out of the city, as it happened – and I did ask to make sure.

She had two children, a girl of four and a boy of five, who were staying with her husband’s sister, though she did not dwell on the subject too long. The feeling left me with happiness for
her, and an emptiness inside myself. I had once imagined what it might have been like to raise a family together. No matter how much I asked her about her life, she seemed awkward talking about it,
which was perhaps understandable. Her tentative gestures made me start to feel guilty that I had dragged a mother away from her family simply so I could entertain my senses of love and lust.

Titiana asked me of my adventures and I told her of the things I’d seen across Vispasia. Unlike Veron’s party, this time it was about the struggles of the people throughout the
continent, of the damage left over by the old Detratan Empire that still, two hundred years later, left its mark on the world. I spoke of tribal wars, of political factions going rogue, of the
delicate cohesion of the Royal Union. Finally, I commented dryly that the Sun Chamber was now my only family.

‘Still, the continent is all the stronger for being united,’ I continued, ‘even if the nations cannot always agree on the most harmonious paths at times.’

‘You walk in a different world to the rest of us, Lucan,’ Titiana sighed, as if partly jealous and partly proud of me. ‘More wonderful than mine.’

‘Each of our own worlds is challenging enough,’ I remarked. ‘It’s all a matter of context.’

The busker returned to the tavern for his drum and, true to my instructions, the tavern owner returned it to him and took the money for the meal. With a disappointed look on his face, and no
longer smiling when he glanced at me, the busker trudged out of the establishment a disappointed man.

The owner approached our table once again. ‘I make a point of not disturbing lovers too much—’

‘Oh, but we’re . . .’ Titiana said.

The man palmed the air.

‘Let the man speak, Titiana,’ I said grinning.

The owner burst out a laugh. ‘You should say that to my wife – she constantly tells me to shut up! No, consider your dinner paid for tonight. When you dine here again, you ask for
Kollans.’

We finished our meal and stepped outside into the mild Tryum evening. Cloud cover had come in from the eastern skies, obscuring the starlight. I didn’t know quite how
late it was, but I told Titiana that I ought to get to bed soon.

‘Do I bore you now?’ she said, teasing me. ‘Is your life now too exciting to bother with the likes of me?’

My own grin soon faded. ‘No, tomorrow I will be claiming my father’s ashes so that they can be buried in our mausoleum, south of the city.’

‘Oh.’ She took my hands, I momentarily held my breath. ‘You needn’t do a thing like that alone,’ she said. ‘If you need support you only have to
ask.’

‘If you’re willing, I wouldn’t mind the company.’

‘You’re not the only one who could do with the company,’ she replied.

‘That’s settled. I’ll meet you around two hours after sunrise.’

‘I’ll come to your house.’ Titiana leaned forward, and her lips touched mine so softly I could have mistaken them for a gust of wind. She whispered to me, ‘You still owe
me a dinner, because I don’t believe you actually paid for that one.’

As Titiana turned to walk back slowly through the streets of Tryum, I contemplated how so little had changed between us – the way we interacted, our similar disregard for social norms, my
efforts to make her giggle – and the realization of this was somehow rather comforting. I stood still longer than was necessary, watching Titiana walk around the corner, vanishing into the
night. A moment later, an old woman shuffled by and regarded me with either a grin or a grimace, it was difficult to say. At least I was smiling.