Benlunar - Episode 32
Lilian and Mr Attorcop deal with Bried’s gang.
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
A slow clapping was all that breached the tension. Lilian had to crane her head slightly to look past a scrawny man with a pointy beard so that she could confirm that it was indeed Bried who was applauding. The scrawny man moved aside and put his small knife back into his coat pocket. A few others moved as well, everyone had stood to protect their mistress but no one wanted to block her view. Bried stopped clapping and stood up.
“Because he has us,” she parroted back to Lilian, “I love that! So sweet. And who are you supposed to be? Hm? A hayseed blown in from the hills and her pet… what even is that? A dog?” She shot a glance back to Jack Haven who shrugged. “Well whatever it is, it’s drooling on my carpet. In fact…” Bried paused to move more of her personal guard out of her way. She came out of the circle of chairs to get a better look at Fritha. Most eyes followed her, some stayed fixed on the Feinhound.
“Yes,” said Bried, “I think this thing would make a fine carpet in its own right? What do you think Lilian Lausanne? Take away the drool of course.”
Now it was Mr Attorcop’s turn to feel tense. He had been proud of Lilian and Fritha stepping forward and holding their nerve so far. Had Bried been any less of an experienced criminal, he thought, she would have wet her britches like the rest of her entourage. But she was clever. She knew they were here for more than just a messy apartment. They were here to avenge a wrong and Bried was about to pick at the very scar Lilian was attempting to heal. He resolved to say nothing. Lilian had to learn at some point, this could be a valuable teaching moment.
“How about that Lilian Lausanne? Shall we see if it keeps its colours once the coat is off its bones? Maybe your friend Twitchett can help us? That’s right.” Bried noticed the flick of Lilian’s eyes. They betrayed her shock. “What? You don’t think I walk past a little girl with an animal the size of a jungle cat in my city, and not ask questions?”
Mr Attorcop began to wonder if this particular lesson might be taught better in a classroom. Lilian had flinched, but she had not yet cracked. She could go a little more, he thought.
“Let’s get Twitchy in here and let him have a poke at big chops. Or I could just do it myself…” Bried pulled out a small knife, she flicked it quickly round her fingers like it wasn’t a separate thing, rather an extension of herself, like an extra, extremely dangerous finger. Mr Attorcop had picked up on Lilian’s heavy breathing and elevated heart rate. Just a little longer, he thought, willing her to see what Bried was doing. She was trying to get a reaction, she was trying to break her. Was the knife going to do it? Mr Attorcop, reached for his vial of lunar essence, feeling its cold, familiar touch in the folds of his cloak sleeve.
“Or maybe.” Bried was relentless. “Maybe I’ll make you do it. You come from some dirty little farm I’m sure. Did they teach you how to skin animals where you grew up? Or were Mummy and Daddy too busy not caring about you and sending you to cities with strange old men?” Bried was close to Lilian now. Within Lilian’s area of attack for sure, thought Mr Attorcop.
“Why don’t you get out and leave the grown ups to do the talking? Because if I have to look at that horrible red hair for one more second, I think I’m going to be sick.” There was a silence, Lilian stayed put. Seemingly waiting for something.
“Did you hear me hayseed? Get out, or I’ll gut your cat.” Lilian kept her cool. Turned slowly to Bried, smiled softly and spoke.
“For someone with so little information, you really talk a lot.” Mr Attorcop breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t quite the witty retort that would calm the room and get them a name at no price, but it wasn’t too antagonising and did enforce her position of strength. But Lilian’s training could only take her so far at this stage, Mr Attorcop moved to speak.
“Here,” he said, “We found this at the scene.” He’d bypassed the vial and reached instead for one of the silver hand brooches. It clunked heavily onto the floor between Lilian and Bried.
Bried looked at him as if he had interrupted her having dinner. She glanced down, picked up the brooch and studied it for a moment before curling her lip in disinterest. She looked back up at Mr Attorcop with a “so what?” expression, one eyebrow expertly raised.
“No games Tazial. You know what it is and you know that Markhor makes them in his back room. All we want is the name of the person who carried it into my attic and left it there for me to find.” Bried was suddenly struck by something funny. She giggled a strange and high pitched laugh and walked back to her armchair. Some others laughed too, whether they were in on the joke or not, Mr Attorcop did not care.
“You really are in need of information,” chuckled Bried. “Either that or Markhor’s been running his mouth off again. This isn’t a Markhor brooch. Far too detailed. This is one of those horrible noble smith jobs. You can see the joins quite plainly, and there’s no signet. Markhor always leaves that annoying little star on his work.” She made to throw it back to Mr Attorcop but released it too soon and it hurtled towards Lilian. Luckily, Lilian was ready and caught it before it struck her in the face.
“Whoops,” said Bried, and the room laughed once more. Lilian looked as if she was ready to take a life and Mr Attorcop judged that it was time to leave.
“Very well, I suppose we should be off, maybe someone else knows more than you.” They turned their backs and made for the door. Bried shouted after them.
“Come back when you’ve got something valuable and you’ll see how much I know.” Lilian held the door for Fritha to step through and followed Mr Attorcop down the series of rooms they had walked through. Bried could still be heard, her voice fading into the distance.
“I know who hurt her. I know your stupid dog nearly died and that you’re out for revenge. You’re better than that Cromwell you sorry old coot.” Lilian looked up at her friend, she half expected him to be fuming with anger, just like she was, but he was smiling.
A while later Lilian was sitting with Mr Attorcop, Fritha and Katherine. The four of them had found a booth in a Ziedmont inn called The Vine. It was a quiet place that was enjoyed by the older citizens of Freedos. Fritha was in the corner being fussed over by a pair of older women, keeping a watchful eye on their unfinished plates. The inn had red painted walls, leather chairs and only served wine. Lilian was in the middle of lamenting their failure when Mr Attorcop interrupted her.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Isn’t that the whole reason you went in there?” Katherine was struggling to keep her voice down. She had been against seeing Bried from the start.
“Sort of.” Mr Attorcop took another sip of wine. “Yes we want to know who hurt Fritha but they were never going to give something like that up without a very hefty price attached to it.” Katherine didn’t understand, but Lilian did.
“We went in with a clear goal. Mr Attorcop asked about the culprit but all we wanted was the name of the blacksmith.”
“And we got it for free!” Mr Attorcop leaned back in his chair. The leather squeaked and he smiled a wide grin.
“Well, we didn’t exactly get a name.” Lilian reproached. Mr Attorcop shook his head but didn’t look disheartened.
“‘A noble smith’, that’s what she said. And that’s more than enough information considering the price we paid to get it.” Lilian laughed and glanced at Katherine. She had her arms crossed and was rolling her eyes.
“You two think you’re so clever. Now she’s got you on her list, mark my words, she’ll have her eye on you two.” Lilian had not thought of that. But a sudden memory made her relax a little.
“She had already been watching us. She knew all about me and Mr Twitchett and Mr Attorcop’s break in. It’s more information than we’ve had all week and I…” Lilian forced herself to look into Katherine’s disappointed eyes. “I think it was worth the risk.” Mr Attorcop was still smiling.
“Lilian played her part to perfection. I must admit I was worried Bried would see straight through me but I think Lilian and Fritha threw off her judgement.” Katherine sighed and shrugged.
“Well then clever wigs, how are you going to find a “noble blacksmith”, especially when no such thing exists.”
“There are a few of the nobility that dally in smithing as a hobby. Mostly jewelry but occasionally weapons. No one would own up to it outright of course. We’re going to have to find them.” Katherine shot him an ‘I told you so’ face and beckoned for Fritha to come back and stop bothering an old man about his soup. Mr Attorcop looked down at his drink as if trying to find the answers in the swirling crimson pool.
“Everything leaves a mark. A smell, a sound. Nothing is made without destruction of some kind. And destruction creates noise.” He looked at Lilian and his expression grew serious. “Fortunately,” he said, “we have someone on our team who is an exceptionally good listener.”
One surprising thing about the city is that people don’t like it when you sit on the floor. Lilian had found this out the hard way over the last two days. As soon as she went anywhere near the noble quarter at the top of the hill and sat down to try and focus she would be interrupted. The first time was by a man who was coming out of his house. He seemed nice enough but asked Lilian to move as apparently he had people coming round. The next interruption was less friendly. A couple of Weardian officers kicked her in the shin as she was extending her senses into a basement nearby. They told her that beggars were not allowed in this quarter of the city and made sure she was far away before moving on with their patrol. Lilian had hoped that if she found a spot near to the wall that separated the palace court she could focus and listen in to what was happening beyond her normal reach. Currently she was sitting on a rooftop overlooking the palace gate. There were the homes of The Empress’s favourite families beyond the wall as well as the palace itself. Lilian was looking at it now. It had sheer walls of white stone, peppered by the occasional grey vein. Every detail was gilded with gold and jade gargoyles looked out menacingly from the roof. It had been a church once, Lilian had been told, but it had since been repurposed. The houses beyond the wall were no less impressive. Each one was painted in The Empress’s family colours of pink, green and white. Even the flowers on the wooden window sills did not stray from the colour scheme. Lilian had to be careful up here, so as a precaution before scaling the building she had practised gloaming with one of Fritha’s hairs. She had taken to keeping four or five of them in a small handkerchief in her pocket. Just one fresh hair was enough to keep her invisible for about 20 minutes, hopefully that would be enough time to devine something useful. Lilian shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
The city shifted from bright colours and thatched roofs into a world of calm darkness. The occasional noise from the streets below created tiny lights that Lilian could gravitate towards in the gloom. One group of lights illuminated a conversation between two guards. Another one revealed a family of cats living under a set of wooden steps. Lilian explored the darkness for sometime, hunting for anything that might stand out. There was the smell of cooking four houses away that was rather distracting, not to mention the argument happening in one of the palace court homes. Lilian could not quite make out the words, but they were heated enough to burn brightly against the dark. She was busy listening to a man in his bathroom practising a speech when something caught her attention. It was a sound. Like a bell ringing in the distance. Lilian was reminded of the Stave Church bowl bells sounding out across the mountains. This was faint though. Very faint. Lilian was so busy trying to figure out what it was, that she almost forgot to find its source. There was some trouble here. No matter what Lilian did, she could not place the bell. Perhaps it was this that had made it stand out to her in the first place. It was certainly coming from beyond the wall. But Lilian for the life of her could not find its source. She listened. The bell rang a few more times. And just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Lilian listened. And listened. And listened. But there was nothing.
A few days later, Lilian still couldn’t shake the sound of it. It was like a puzzle, except she only had one piece and no conception of the picture it could fit in. She had briefly seen Mr Attorcop the night before and had conveniently forgotten to mention it. She didn’t want to bother him with something that could be nothing. Fritha licked her hand and shook her out of the daydream. She could still vividly see the sound echoing through the silent gloom like the ripple of a pebble on a dark lake. But no matter how hard she focused, she could not place its centre, like trying to find somewhere in a dream. She snapped back to reality and looked at the clean, empty window display case in front of her. The rag in her hand was black with dust and as she absentmindedly wiped sweat off her face she left a large grey stain on her cheek.
“All done!” she shouted back to Mr Twitchett.
“Oh good.” She heard him say as he shuffled out of the back room. He looked up through his bushy eyebrows and admired the work.
“Splendid. Thank you Lilian. And thank YOU Fritha bella.” He reached down and stroked Fritha’s bright blue head.
“What’s going there?” Lilian pointed to the empty central podium in the window. There had previously been a rather fierce looking ferret, bleached in places by the sun, but it had recently been sold.
“I have something in the basement that will be just right.” Lilian was confused.
“Basement?” she asked, looking around for a trap door she must have missed.
“Not here,” replied Mr Twitchett, “It’s down the road. Part of the deal that came with the place, I rarely use it because it’s too far.” He reached for his cloak as he spoke and gestured for Lilian to do the same.
The cellar in question was only ten minutes away and that was going at Mr Twitchett’s pace. Lilian reckoned she could have made it three or four minutes. He led them down a sidestreet and towards some dull, rust coloured walls. Mr Twitchett took a key from his pocket and opened an iron door. It creaked on its hinges and was apparently the entrance to some sort of stables. The space was big and dark and smelled of hay. Lilian was about to ask why it was empty but when she looked over at Mr Twitchett, the answer was obvious. The ceiling had been built far too low. Lilian was still growing so she missed it at first, but the practicality of running a business or a home in such a cramped space was ridiculous. Mr Twitchett moved slowly over to the back of the space and gestured behind him to the barred windows.
“I don’t keep anything in here because you can see it from the street.” He bent down and gestured to Lilian to come over.
“Would you mind? Just let me unlock it and then grab that handle.” He pointed to an iron bar that was slotted into the wood. Mr Twitchett fiddled for a few seconds with the key to what appeared to be a large trap door, half buried in the floor. Lilian was sure she hadn’t noticed it coming in. Mr Twitchett cursed the darkness under his breath as the third key he tried still brought no joy. Fritha must have sensed his frustration, in the dim light she shifted her coat into a luminous bluish white. Both Lilian and Mr Twitchett stopped to marvel at it before getting back to the task at hand.
“Good lady.” Lilian whispered in Fritha’s ear as she touched the glowing fur on her neck. With a resounding click the lock was bested and Lilian helped Mr Twitchett to lift the heavy lid out of the floor. It revealed a set of wooden steps leading down into pitch black. Lilian might have been scared if she wasn’t with someone who knew the place well. Fearless Fritha was the first to plunge into the depths and luckily she could illuminate the way for the others. Lilian stepped through slowly and held on to the flimsy rope for balance. The steps curved round to the left and after climbing down only a few Lilian saw the space beneath. Fritha’s shining form was smaller due to the distance, but she still managed to light the entire room. It was a big room, with an appropriate ceiling, wooden floorboards and even dusty chandeliers.
“This is amazing!” Lilian’s voice echoed off the walls, which she noticed were paneled with painted wood. Green perhaps? It was hard to tell in the bluish haze. Fritha’s light quickly winked out and then reappeared in the corner of Lilian’s eye. She turned to see that Fritha had just past behind a large object. It had grey sheets draped over it. Lilian walked towards it. Fritha was sniffing at the hem of the sheet, curious to discover what was underneath. Lilian started to gently remove the sheet.
“Careful, it’s very old.” Mr Twitchett warned her, he was half way between the object and the steps by now. Lilian lifted the sheet up some more, peeked underneath and gasped.
Half an hour later Mr Twitchett was stepping back from his shop window to admire the new display. Lilian, who had been straightening it under his direction, stepped out of the shop and turned around. The site of a ferocious lynx greeted her. It was perched on top of a series of plaster cast rocks, its ears flat and teeth bared for the pounce. It’s realistic yellow glass eyes were fixated on another animal directly beneath it, mounted on the same display. This animal was a fox. From this angle it looked frightened of the large and terrifying cat in front of it, but when Lilian was placing it, she saw that the fox actually looked just as, if not more fierce than the cat. Mr Twitchett was beaming with its placement.
“What do you think?”
“It’s a little…” Lilian thought for a second.
“It’s alright,” Mr Twitchett reassured her, “you can say it. It’s gruesome.” Mr Twitchett was laughing. “I made it years and years ago. When I was young and desperate to impress. These days I prefer a little more coyness and subtlety in the looks.” Lilian nodded.
“I was going to say… It is a bit more aggressive than the usual displays.”
“Ah but that’s the thing. What with the Empress’s animal being the Lynx I thought this might throw any attention off me for associating with that revolutionary fellow.” Lilian smiled. If anything shouted ‘pro Empress Syliva’ it was this. The lynx stood fierce and proud and since foxes were notorious city vermin, well, it wasn’t exactly subtle. Suddenly, Lilian had a thought.
“Mr Twitchett?”
“Hm?”
“I was just wondering. Do you ever rent out that basement?” Mr Twitchett was pretending to walk past his own shop window, getting a ‘buyer’s view’ as he called it.
“Oh goodness no.” He said, “Horrible, dark little place. Who would want it?” Lilian smiled.
“I can think of someone.”
The pace of events began to quicken. Mr Attorcop, unsure at first of the dingy basement, quickly came around to the idea of moving in once he heard what Mr Twitchett would charge for rent. With Lilian’s help they managed to clean the place which led to some interesting discoveries. The first was that natural light did reach the basement, it was just behind some very grimy grates and the second was that there was a small door at the back of the space which was locked. They tried every key on Mr Twitchett’s chain, but none of them fit. Mr Attorcop was about to try kicking the door in when he realised that there were probably more important matters to be getting on with. There was sweeping, mopping, wall washing, decorating, bringing in furniture, setting up tables and just generally making the basement not seem like a forgotten old hole in the ground. Fritha tried helping whenever she could, but she generally just got in the way. The effort took several days during which they unfortunately had to put their avenging to one side. Lilian did mention the ringing to Mr Attorcop during a break between moving bookshelves. He had asked a few questions which Lilian could not answer and finally said that he would think on what it meant.
“As you say, it could be nothing. But even so, we know it’s coming from beyond the palace court walls and if that is our best lead then we need to start thinking about getting beyond them.” He looked around the sparse but improving room, looking for inspiration perhaps.
“I don’t suppose you ever go through the gates for Twitchett’s deliveries?” Lilian shook her head.
“I always have to give my parcel to a guard at the gate and tell him who it's for. Every delivery does.” Mr Attorcop nodded and both of them fell into thought whilst watching Fritha try to eat a mop.
The answer to their question came the very next day when Katherine dropped by to look at the new basement.
“It’s perfect!” she exclaimed, dropping her bag by the entrance and stepping onto the newly laid carpet.
“It will do.” Mr Attorcop spoke in a dissatisfied mumble, but Lilian knew that he was proud of it too.
“Come and look at the painting,” said Lilian, ushering Katherine to the west wall where she had hung a small painting of a regal looking fox.
“Oh that’s lovely,” said Katherine and she put her arm around Lilian and squeezed her arm. “Now, who wants a pastry?” Katherine looked back at her bag and Lilian ran to get it. The three of them were sitting moments later chewing the sweet cakes that Katherine had bought them.
“It’s madness up there,” said Katherine, with a mouthful of cake, gesturing above her.
“What do you mean?” asked Lilian.
“Oh it’s three days until the Summer Ball so everyone is busy buying fabric and dresses.” She waved her hand absently as if to dismiss the whole business. Lilian stopped chewing her cake and looked at Mr Attorcop. Mr Attorcop looked at Lilian. Fritha, looked at Lilian’s cake.
“Katherine…” Lilian began, turning back to look at her friend. “Where is the Summer Ball held.” Katherine licked a crumb from her lip and looked at them both.
“Why… the palace. It’s one of three big parties of the year. I’ve never been invited but the lady of the house where I work has been four times.” Katherine raised her eyebrows, Lilian got the impression she was supposed to be impressed. She opened her eyes wide and Katherine was glad at the acknowledgement.
“What does one need to get into this... party?” Mr Attorcop spoke calmly. Katherine rolled her eyes.
“It’s not a party. That makes it sound like a child’s birthday. It’s the Summer Ball. The Empress sends the invites out herself and you need to show it at the door to get in.” Lilian slumped in her chair. The sparks of an idea had been struck in her mind, but any flame had been quickly snuffed out. Mr Attorcop, apparently not disheartened, leaned forward and pressed Katherine on the issue.
“How did your lady get an invitation?”
“She does good work for the poor of the city. Sometimes if she completes a major project she’ll get recognised by the state. Her invitations came on really good years.”
“What kind of work does she do?” asked Lilian.
“She raises money for the poor of the city. She takes from the rich and gives it to the poor in the form of housing or schools.” Mr Attorcop made a quick tutting sound. He did this whenever he heard something he disapproved of.
“You mean she takes rich people’s money and then makes deals with builders so that they can share it all out amongst more rich people.” Katherine shot him an angry look,
“Perhaps. But the homes do get built…” She paused, doubting herself, “Occasionally.” Lilian wanted to get back on track.
“When did these invitations go out?” she asked.
“Oh they haven’t yet.” Lilian sat up. “Oh that’s the best bit,” continued Katherine, “They go out the night before! It’s an old tradition. It started because the fourth Emperor apparently couldn’t decide who to invite to his birthday. So his wife, the night before, sent out secret invites to everyone she knew who would make the best party guests. And she must have got it right because the Empress still does that today.” The story was met once again with a tutting from Mr Attorcop, combined with an overly affected eye roll.
“That may or may not be true but that’s not why she does it. You’ve already told us that.” He pointed upwards. “You said so yourself that it’s madness up there. Every noble or even people that can only sniff a noble's arm pit as he walks past, is out there buying things. If you don’t tell people who is invited then everyone has to assume they are, or else you might have some reason to be out of the Empress’s favour. To assume you’re going is to assume you’re liked and so you go out and buy the latest style gown or you make your own with materials from the markets.” He popped his last piece of cake in his mouth and was done talking. Katherine looked at Lilian.
“Seven stars, how long did you have to travel with misery man over here?” Lilian laughed.
“A n y w a y, what’s with all the interest in the ball?” Lilian shrugged and went back to her cake.
“We need to get into the palace court somehow.” Katherine coughed a little.
“And you thought you could get into the ball?”
“Not necessarily as a guest. Perhaps a servant or waiter.” Katherine shook her head.
“That’s even less likely than getting an invitation. It’s catered by the palace so everyone will be vetted and given paperwork long before this week. They don’t take on new staff just to cater the ball either. That’s just how many people she’s got working up there.” A dejected sigh came from the small gathering. Apparently they were going to have to find another way to get beyond the palace walls and try to find the source of the strange bell. The group discussed various options, each more risky than the last. The best bet seemed to be getting a hold of one of the Summer Ball invitations.
The next day they tried everything. Black market dealers, nobles in need of cash, they even set up watches to catch the messengers mid delivery, but nothing worked. In the end they needn’t have tried so hard to find an invitation, because when Lilian returned home after her second evening of searching there was one waiting for her in her room.