Benlunar - Episode 31
Lilian and Mr Attorcop do all they can to help Fritha. Later, they seek answers from some disreputable types.
The city, like a hive is teaming with life
People crawl over it like insects or parasites
It’s a place you can thrive or die in a ditch
Where you can step on the poor to get slightly more rich
When the mountains are flat and the seas are dry
The towers will stand stabbing the sky
As long as there is freedom and people in chains
Humanity dies, Freedos remains
The beating of drums is associated with victory. When padded hammers strike taught skins we feel our passions pace along and quicken with every thump thump thump. The drum plays under celebrations even when those victories have taken many sacrifices to achieve. Our minds get swept up in the infectious rhythms, the beating breaks down barriers and we find ourselves hugging complete strangers, smiling, even when the situation might call for tears. We forget in the moment that the drum beats before the battle as well as after it. What we rarely consider is that the beat can be a triumph in and of itself. It needn’t be loud, and in this case it was certainly not. A tiny almost inaudible rhythm, struck by a rapidly weakening heart. A little beat that Lilian Lausanne would treasure and dance to for years to come as if it was the loudest, boldest victory drum. Like one the people would build after a great war was won.
“She’s breathing.” Lilian managed to speak through tears and a clenched throat. She could not bring herself to smile in the moment, the battle was only just beginning and Fritha’s faint heartbeat signified both the start and the victory. Lilian felt a hand pull her away from her friend and saw a dark blur descend upon her. Mr Attorcop had fetched various tinctures to thicken blood, gut and needle to close wounds and even a rare and dangerous herb ground into a fine powder that could shock a heart back into beating if it stopped for a second. Lilian wanted to help, she vaguely remembered asking what she could do but Mr Attorcop was far more knowledgeable in these matters and Lilian would only get in the way. Instead her and Katherine began creating space for him to work, fetching things he might need. They brought a desk over, laid a sheet over it and lifted Fritha’s enormous form onto it. Katherine stayed calm but it was all Lilian could do to not burst into fits of rage and tears right there and then. Katherine sensed this and took Lilian’s hand, clutching it tightly and whispering.
“It’s going to be okay. Just breathe my dear, Cromwell will take care of her.” Lilian nodded, desperately wanting to believe her. She needed Fritha to know that she was there and so she lead Katherine round to the end of the desk, near Fritha’s head. She crouched down and gazed into her eyes. Little puffs of air moved the hairs in front of Fritha’s nose. She seemed to react when she saw Lilian’s face, but it was hard to tell. She could just have been trying to focus on the moving shapes in front of her. Lilian didn’t want to believe that Fritha’s eyes were losing some of their vibrancy. It was hard enough to come to terms with the fact that Fritha’s fur was becoming increasingly grey. She looked like someone had poured ash or soot on her, covering her incredible multi colours. Lilian reached out with her other hand and touch Fritha’s forehead. The clicking and snipping sounds of Mr Attorocop’s medical instruments whirred away in the background. Lilian made a silent promise to herself that if Fritha got through this then she would never again ask her to hide. She would not be Fritha the dog, she would be Fritha the Feinhound, a fable made flesh. She would not hush her growls or calm her temper. And she would never, ever again put a lead on her.
The minutes dragged by and Mr Attorcop continued to work, the heat of the attic was getting to him and more than once he had to wipe away big beads of sweat from his brow. Katherine and Lilian had brought out and lit every gas lamp and candle they could find. After a few hours, when the moon was high and clearly visible out of the big attic window, Mr Attorcop stood back and finally took a deep breath.
“That’s all I can do for now. She needs rest and… luck.” He looked up and appeared to be seeing the state of the attic for the first time. His face fell as he glanced at the shattered experiments, the broken glass and stained floorboards. The damage represented weeks of progress and hundreds of gold crowns in equipment and resources. Lilian was about to thank him, probably even hug him, but he suddenly leapt into action as if some sudden and terrible realisation had just occurred to him. He ran over to the back wall and looked behind the table. He muttered something under his breath.
“Damn them to the depths. The Nightshade is gone.” Once more, Lilian watched his eyes widen in shock and he sprinted up the steps and disappeared into the back of the space. Lilian looked at Katherine, she was as confused as Lilian. Mr Attorcop’s voice echoed from the back of the room.
“Twelve Hells! They’re gone.” He came back to the steps with both hands on his head. He dragged them down his face and he seemed to age several years as he did. He sat down on the top step and looked at Lilian and Katherine.
“What is it?” asked Katherine. Lilian was still too distracted by checking on Fritha’s breathing to pay him much attention.
“The essence. My… I had some bottles that contained a very valuable solution. I had hidden them in various parts of the attic and most have been found and taken. I have only this one left.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out a vial of Lunar essence. Lilian glanced at it and noticed that it was only three quarters full. Mr Attorcop looked up and made eye contact with her. His eyes were red and heavy bags were forming under them. He looked up and around at his recently salvaged home, now ruined beyond repair. He looked tired and sad. And then he looked angry.
Fritha thankfully recovered within the week. They moved her to Lilian’s room under cover of darkness and she rested on the floor under Lilian’s constant vigil. In the afternoon of the second day, after she had not eaten or drunk anything and seemed to be getting worse, Lilian had the idea to feed her some Lunar essence. She did not know what made her link the two things together in her mind, it just seemed to make sense that this mythical substance and a legendary creature came into her life at a similar time. She had been hesitant, remembering just how little supply they had left. She even wondered if she should ask Mr Attorcop whether she was allowed to use it in this way, but he had given her the vial and so it was hers to use as she saw fit. Lilian opened the handle of her knife and dropped a few drops of the essence onto Fritha’s tongue. It cost her a quarter of the bottle, but Fritha’s fur began to pulse with colour within seconds of tasting it. Within the hour she was drinking water and the very next day she was walking. It was not a confident stride, rather a timid and careful limp, but Lilian beamed at her progress nonetheless. Losing some of the essence was well worth seeing Fritha’s beautiful colours shift and shine once again. Mr Attorcop would check on her every day but Lilian never mentioned that she had found the bottle of essence he’d hidden for her, let alone the fact that she’d used some to help Fritha recover.
Mr Twitchet, being a lover of animals in his own way, understood that Lilian needed some time off work to tend to Fritha and promised that there would be work for her when she needed it. Katherine visited every day and brought Lilian food and sour berries for Fritha. Her expression when she saw Fritha stand up to greet her at the door was priceless. On the fifth day Lilian was getting Fritha ready for her first proper walk when both Mr Attorcop and Katherine visited at the same time. Katherine had managed to get the day off work claiming that a close friend was ill (which was partly true) and Mr Attorcop had a morning to spare in his hunt for a new base of operations. They had all agreed that the attic was compromised and too dangerous a place to stay so Mr Attorcop had salvaged everything he could and taken it to The Greedy Goose on Katherine’s recommendation. The three of them and Fritha were all sitting in Lilian’s room, it was a tight squeeze but they just about managed to find spots on the floor and bed.
“Still no idea on who it could have been?” Katherine asked Mr Attorcop.
“A hundred theories but no real leads. To be honest though I haven’t really been looking, I think it’s best I stay low for a while and find a new place to live and work before I go around asking questions.”
“Now that Fritha is a little better, I can help you look for somewhere.” added Lilian, desperate to get back out into the city and feel useful.
“Thank you Lilian. I’ve taken some work from a few old clients and I’ve been doing some odd jobs for Katrina these past few days, just so that I can pay my way at the Goose and maybe even save some money for somewhere new.” A silence fell on the room. It was the silence of defeat. Whoever this invisible enemy was they had taken their first victory and Lilian and her friends could do nothing but sit and lick their wounds, quite literally in Fritha’s case who was licking her stitches with her big purple tongue. Lilian distracted her with a sour berry, lest she open the cut. All their training and all their talk of power did not stop them from feeling weak and decidedly powerless in this moment. It was Mr Attorcop who snapped out of the silence first with a sudden memory.
“Oh, Lilian, I found this when I went back to the attic. You must have dropped it.” He reached into a pocket in the lining of his shirt and pulled out a small silver object. When he opened his hand for her to take it, Lilian saw that it was a small broach in the shape of a silver hand. She looked at him, confused.
“It is yours isn’t it? You showed it to me in Benlunar. It must have fallen out of your bag or pocket.” Lilian did recognise the broach but she was unsure about something. She took it, stood up and went to her door where her travel bag was hanging from a hook.
“I’ve seen that kind of broach before,” said Katherine.
“Unsurprising. We found that one in Benlunar, apparently they’re used by a group of silly nobles who…” Mr Attorcop did not finish his sentence. He stopped short when he saw Lilian turn back around with the silver broach in her left hand, and an identical one in her right. Mr Attorcop stood up quickly and walked the two full steps over to her.
“It wasn’t mine,” said Lilian. Mr Attorcop took them both off her and studied them, making absolutely sure they were the same shape. He spotted a few differences, to be expected when looking at individually crafted pieces, but the size, shape and form of the hand were unmistakably identical. Katherine was standing up now and Fritha, expecting a walk, got shakily up to her feet as well. Mr Attorcop had to stoop slightly to avoid the beams but this didn’t stop him from pacing back and forth a few steps. He did this sometimes when he had to think. Every step seemed to put more energy into his body, each turn added more of that mischievous sparkle in his eyes that Lilian hadn’t seen for a long time. He was about to speak but he interrupted himself. He looked at Lilian.
“Miss Lausanne,” he said, and Lilian was transported back to the stone shelf on Benlunar mountain, “Tell me what we know.” Lilian looked at Katherine and smiled.
“We know that a small silver brooch was left at the scene of destruction. The clasp is not broken so it’s unlikely that it fell off.”
“Which means?”
“That it was left there on purpose.”
“Why would someone do that?”
“Because they wanted us to know who was responsible. It’s a message. A warning.”
“It’s a mistake.” Mr Attorcop spat the words out with a wide smile on his face. He looked so manic that Katherine seemed nervous to ask her question.
“I thought it was done on purpose?” Mr Attorcop wheeled round to look at her, he looked almost surprised to see her standing there.
“My dear Mrs Brown, the leaving of the brooch was not the mistake. The mistake was these silver hand idiots thinking that they could intimidate us. They destroyed my place of work and my home, they tried to murder my Feinhound friend, they tried to take everything from us in the hope that we would cower and crawl back into the shadows. But what they don’t realise is that once you have lost everything you no longer have anything to lose. My associates and I do not crawl into shadows. We become shadows.” The room practically darkened as he spoke. Lilian felt a shiver of excitement prickle her arms and Fritha let out a fearsome jangle of snarls. Mr Attorcop turned back to Lilian with a fearsome fire in his eyes. He held one of the brooches up in the space between them.
“Someone makes these. We are going to find out who and then they are going to give us names.” Lilian smiled and replied.
“I know exactly who we can ask.”
It took three bribes, six loosely veiled threats and one pat of Fritha’s head but four days later they were granted an audience with Tazial Bried, Freedos’ most infamous and dangerous woman. It was worth the price and risk because apparently, no illegal activity happened in the city without her knowing about it. All their efforts had merely granted them audience however, whether or not she would answer their questions was another risk entirely. It took a whole day to find out exactly where she was based, and another to learn what happened to anyone who disrespected her in her presence. Mr Attorcop, driven by some vengeful spirit, took all the warnings and threats in his stride, shrugging them off like they were playground insults. This gave Lilian confidence but as she, Fritha and Mr Attorcop approached the house where Bried held court, she could not help but remember the dreadful stories that had surfaced during their search. One back alley thief had told them how Bried offered her guests poisoned wine, where the poison would only activate if they told a lie. Another man, a blade for hire, explained that he had stared too long into her eyes once and found himself wishing for death. And then there was her entourage, a more evil and terrifying group could not be found on the pages of adventure novels. Lilian pictured their faces as they saw the manor looming in the distance. There was Gus Deakon who had the strength of ten men. Jack Havens, a fierce female spy and master poisoner who’s sixth and hidden blade could kill you in your dreams. Finally there was Tarek Bismuth, the man who Lilian had seen with the big black dog. Not much was known about him but whenever he was mentioned he was referred to by the same name: The Devil. Lilian gulped down a ball of stress as she recalled his cowled and crooked face. Not ‘a devil’, she thought, The Devil. Mr Attorcop stopped. They were far enough from the house to not be seen by anyone looking out of the windows.
“Lilian, there will be other ways, you know.”
“What do you mean?” She replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.
“I mean it might take a little longer, but eventually we would find out who hurt Fritha and we would not end up in the pockets of any… unsavoury types in the process.” Lilian smiled.
“Are you scared Cromwell?” Mr Attorcop’s face grew serious.
“Yes. And if you’re not then you should be. I’m used to having to deal with these kinds of people but I try not to make a habit of it. They leave me alone and I pay them in kind. All I’m saying is that there are other ways.” Lilian thought for a moment before replying.
“No.” She said, “We’ve already wasted enough days, for all we know the person responsible left Freedos and is getting further away every day. We need them, but we cannot let them know we need them.” Mr Attorcop smiled.
“You’re sounding more like me everyday. I’m not sure I like it but there it is. You’re right, we can’t give them any more leverage than they already have. Worst case is we leave with no answer and we take that as a win, you understand?” Lilian nodded. “Now, what are we doing about this one?” He motioned down to Fritha who was currently pulsating beautiful turquoise and purple waves across her body. True to her word, Lilian had not asked her to hide in the recent days and the results were better than she had expected. Many people were interested in her but few approached them, probably intimidated by her size. Mr Twitchett was her biggest admirer by far and practically begged Lilian to leave her with him when she went on errands, which she did happily. She would always come back to find them playing some silly game. Mr Twitchett never looked so young.
“She comes with us. Colours and all.” Mr Attorcop nodded. “Watch.” She said and Lilian turned to Fritha, got out a sour berry and readied to issue a command.
“Fritha!” Lilian spoke loudly and clearly, grabbing Fritha’s attention with the berry and her tone. Fritha sat down expectantly, drool forming in the corners of her mouth. “On guard. Fritha! On guard.” Fritha’s coat shimmered, night black flooded her fur with the occasional splash of blood red. She seemed to grow in size as well and her lip curled back to reveal long sharp teeth.
“Good girl,” said Lilian as she let Fritha eat the berry from her hand. She turned back to Mr Attorcop with a sly grin. He looked taken aback, perhaps even a little frightened.
“Well, that should do it,” he said, “Let’s go.”
The house itself was painted a faded mauve. It was a wide building that stood alone, a rare thing in the cramped streets of Freedos. Flickering candle lights could be seen in the top windows, two floors above street level, despite it being the middle of the day. The chipped paint work and faded shutters told Lilian that its occupiers cared less for form than they did for function. They were in Lionsgate, an area known for its slum housing and beggar filled streets. This house was a little way up the hill from the tired, run down shacks that populated the rest of the quarter. It was as though at some point someone had tried to improve the area by giving its people something to aspire to, but instead of lifting the crowds up, the house had instead been pulled down to their level. The locals often joked about Lionsgate, calling it Lionsmouth instead. Lilian had asked Katherine about this once and she had replied that once a lion had you in its jaws, you did not escape. Well if Lionsgate was a mouth, thought Lilian, then this house surely was the belly of the beast.
Two men were hanging around outside it, they stood up lazily when Mr Attorcop and Lilian approached. They gave them a quick look but were distracted by Fritha.
“You lost?” One of them barked. He had a shiny bald head and only half of his left ear.
“Not if this is where we can find Tazial Bried,” said Mr Attorcop. He was met with narrowed eyes. “She’s expecting me.” He reassured them.
“No weapons inside.” The other man spoke up, and as he approached them, Lilian noticed that he avoided getting too close to Fritha.
“I assure you we have none.” Said Mr Attorcop.
“Arms up. Got to check.” The first man spoke again, gesturing for Lilian and Mr Attorcop to raise their arms so that they could be searched. They complied and Lilian was suddenly glad she had chosen to leave her knife at home.
“What’s this?” The second man had pulled his hands out of Mr Attorcop’s cloak and was holding up a vial of essence. Lilian felt a pang of fear spread through her.
“A tonic.” Mr Attorcop, said, cool as a cucumber. “For my heart.” The man looked at it for a few seconds, which to Lilian felt like an eternity, before shrugging and giving it back to Mr Attorcop. Clearly this man’s imagination did not stretch to weapons being anything other than clubs or knives. The man stepped back quickly to avoid being sniffed by Fritha, who had been letting out low threatening sounds the whole time, and waved his hand for them to pass. While climbing the steps up to the front door, Lilian marvelled at how easy it was to pass the guards. Either they were very dim, or they knew that no one in their right minds would ever bother attacking the people inside.
The door clicked open with ease and the three of them stepped across the threshold onto the dark wood floor. They found themselves in a large reception room with a staircase to the upper floors directly ahead of them. Old portraits adorned the walls, long neglected and covered by a thick layer of dust. Some of the more stately looking figures had crudely drawn eyebrows or facial hair on them. The rest of the hall was just as dirty but surprisingly clear of the clutter one would expect to find after years of neglect. There were open doors to their left and right and Lilian could hear laughter coming from the left side of the house. She looked to Mr Attorcop who took a deep breath and lead the way. The laughter and chatter grew as they made their way through the large rooms, each one had an ornate fireplace but very little furniture. They were all bigger than Lilian’s room, and when they finally found the source of the noise they opened a set of double doors to a room that was bigger than Lilian’s entire family home. Unlike the others, this room contained quite a bit of furniture and was tastefully decorated. There were about a dozen people inside all of whom were sitting on beautifully upholstered chairs and settees. Had it not been for their faded colours and ripped corners, Lilian would not have been surprised to find them in a palace. There was no central table, rather each chair had its own little side table where the occupants kept their cups and various plates with dried meats and pickled vegetables. The wallpaper was blue and black and patterned with flourished stylized lilies. The curtains were drawn and let in abundant sunlight which reflected off of the chandelier that was suspended from the ceiling. It was a beautiful room but Lilian tried not to get too distracted in admiring it. They were here to work, after all.
The chatter and laughter ceased as soon as Mr Attorcop opened the double doors and all eyes turned to look at them. Lilian spotted the man called Bismuth sitting towards the back of the room, near the fireplace, apart from the main crowd. She noticed him because his dog stood up as soon as they entered and started approaching them slowly with a soft growl in its throat. Mr Attorcop said nothing, instead, he watched the group slowly turn their eyes from him to the woman with the shaved head, sitting in the luxurious red leather armchair. Tazial Bried, thought Lilian, swallowing her fear and desperately trying to keep her face calm and collected. Bried finished chewing a slice of pear before speaking. Any other host might have stood up and greeted them but Lilian got the sense that everyone here was living according to her whims and wants. For a few seconds there were just the sounds of growling and chewing.
“You’re Cromwell Attorcop,” said Bried, in a sharp, clear voice.
“I am,” replied Mr Attorcop.
“The real Cromwell Attorcop.” Bried said with a slight chuckle. A few of the other people sitting around laughed as well. Clearly Bried’s reputation for knowing things was well founded. Mr Attorcop did not respond to this.
“And who’s this?” She gestured to Lilian.
“This is…”
“Ah.” Bried interrupted Mr Attorcop, holding up a finger to silence him. “She can speak for herself, can’t you darling?” Mr Attorcop looked down at Lilian as if waiting for her to speak. Lilian tried to calm her heavily beating heart.
“My name is Lilian Lausanne,” she said, as clearly and bravely as her beating heart would let her. Luckily her voice did not crack. Bried’s eyes narrowed and she glanced at Fritha.
“How many dogs do you have Lilian Lausanne? If that thing even is a dog.” More laughter from the crowd.
“Just the one.” Lilian kept her answers short and truthful, she didn’t want to talk about Fritha but Bried clearly remembered seeing them together the other day. Lilian sensed suspicion growing in her and worried that she had blown the mission. Trust and honesty was clearly important to this group of thieves and liars.
“Well come on, spit it out. What do you two want? I’m very busy.” The big black dog was edging closer as she spoke, its ears pricked and its growl growing louder. It had not taken its eyes off of Fritha since she had walked into the room. Fritha, for her part, was ignoring it and looking at some dried ham on a nearby table.
“We’re here to negotiate for some information.” Mr Attorcop waited for someone to interject but when no one did, he continued, “My home and place of work was destroyed and some valuable materials were taken, we seek those responsible.” Lilian was confused, weren’t they here to determine who made the silver hand brooches? Perhaps that was the long way round, if Bried did know who was responsible for hurting Fritha, then they might not need to know who made the brooches.
“And what makes you think I would know?” Bried had gone back to picking at her pear. A couple of the others were also losing interest in the conversation, eating or drinking in the silences between questions.
“I was under the impression that little happened within the city walls without your knowing. Especially when it came to unsavoury matters. Perhaps your reputation is… unwarranted.” Mr Attorcop’s quip produced low hums and the kissing of teeth from Bried’s fellows. The black dog edged ever closer. Bried’s face was placid, but Lilian could have sworn she saw the twitch of a smile play across her thin lips. Perhaps what Mr Attorcop had said was true, demons like to play games.
“People say you’re an intelligent man Cromwell, and yet you stand here and practically accuse me of destroying your place. Perhaps it is your reputation that is unwarranted.” Bried shot her eyes up from her delicate knife work of peeling the skin off the pear. Mr Attorcop held her gaze. The black dog bared its teeth.
“I don’t remember accusing you of anything. But then I am getting old and perhaps my memory is fading. If you truly know nothing then we’ll be on our way. Come Lilian.” The tension broke a little and the small crowd began to laugh and boo. They had clearly been enjoying the spectacle. Bried hushed them with a smile and the wave of her hand.
“Stay Cromwell, we can talk. Perhaps I do know something. What are you willing to pay for the knowledge?” Mr Attorcop waited a second before replying.
“That would depend on the quality of the information.” Bried nodded, and popped a piece of skinless fruit in her mouth.
“A name.” She said, casually. Mr Attorcop narrowed his eyes.
“A name would be a valuable thing. But I don’t think you have it.”
And just like that, the tension was back. Only this time, it was different. The games had been played and the negotiation was suddenly serious. Lilian saw the woman known as Havens, who was sitting to Bried’s left, reach down behind her chair and tense her arm as if gripping something. What in the seven heavens was Mr Attorcop playing at? Thought Lilian. When Bried spoke, her voice was almost a whisper.
“Are you calling me a liar.” Mr Attorcop shook his head.
“I’m calling you a gambler. I think you have a pretty good idea as to who was responsible. But I don’t wish to deal in good ideas. I wish to deal in facts. No facts. No deal.” Bried snorted in derision.
“You talk of deals. I don’t even know what I’m trading for yet.” It was time for Mr Attorcop to place his first offer. With a destroyed apartment and little ways of making money, Bried knew that he wouldn’t have much in the way gold or silver. Mr Attorcop had to play his hand carefully so as not to end up agreeing to do some horrible job or worse, end up in her debt.
“For a shoddy guess?” Mr Attorcop said, “Three sovereigns.” With such a low offer on top of an insult, Lilian had expected laughter. But there was none. The proposition was instead met with curled lips and scowling faces. Lilian did not know how much more tension her heart could handle. Bried’s face was a picture of spurn. The black dog lowered its head and raised its hackles, ready to pounce at any moment. Mr Attorcop and Fritha remained resolute.
“You come to my house. You insult my integrity and you offer me pittance in return. Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t cut you all to pieces here and now and hide your bodies in the basement with the rest of the rubbish?” The crowd sturred, ready to spring into a fight. Lilian clenched her fist and began analysing the room for exits and vulnerabilities. Mr Attorcop stood with his eyes fixed on Bried as if all the rumours were true and she had somehow turned him to stone.
The black dog took one more step towards Fritha. Perhaps it sensed the atmosphere but its restraint finally broke and it let out a loud and sharp bark. The sound put everyone on their feet, save for Bried, knives and clubs in every hand, so fast that Lilian did not even see where the weapons had been hiding. She copied Mr Attorcop who did not move. The only member of their group that did was Fritha. The bark had finally caught her attention and she turned to the black dog with murder in her eyes. She stood up to her full height, bared her knife long teeth and let out a sound so loud and piercing that it even shocked Lilian. It was like a hundred metal poles had been dropped onto cobbles from a great height all at once. The black dog quickly put its tail between its legs and stepped back, almost skidding on the polished wood as it did. The dog rushed to its owner who was looking at it with shame in his eyes. Lilian had never been so proud of her companion. She stepped forward and put her hand around Fritha’s shoulder. Her menacing stare had turned on the crowd now and Lilian noticed several of the hardened criminals had lost the colour from their cheeks. Lilian stroked her friend’s furry head and addressed the room with more calm and confidence than she had felt all day, she said,
“Because he has us.”