still here, I think you’ll be back on your feet soon enough. There’s no cause for real concern. But how did it happen? Perhaps it was a very small dose? The whole thing is very strange.”
Vordius hung his head. It had always seemed an inexplicable turn of fate that he possessed the very qualities that were lacking in his best friend. The well-built young man’s charming smile had always attracted the fair sex, who all agreed that the girl who married him would be a lucky young woman, indeed. Vordius, however, unexpectedly chose for his future wife the modest Luvia, who had generally gone unnoticed among the showier young men and women who made up high society in the capital. In fact, quite a few people hadn’t even known of her existence until her engagement was announced.
As an innkeeper, Sevelia Virando always knew the latest news, and she had explained to her son just how sensible Vordius’ choice had been. Luvia’s father was not famous, but he was respected both by the Empire’s elites and by its simpler folk. He held the post of senior priest of Sangia, the god of protection from illness. That made him the Emperor’s chief physician and the chief inspector of hospitals, markets, and water pipes. It was not, of course, a prestigious post, but it was undoubtedly useful and it earned him the loyalty of the people while keeping him far enough away from palace intrigues to ensure him a long and peaceful tenure. Septinel only took the smallest of bribes – solely out of respect for tradition – and people spoke of his honesty with the utmost admiration. A less upstanding man than Septinel would have had a hard time keeping his greed in check if given the power to expel any merchant from the giant covered market for selling something that was past its prime or even simply unfamiliar. Septinel was actually not too shy about such expelling. He had not learned his profession at the Imperial Academy, but rather on the battlefield when he had ridden on campaigns with the present Emperor’s father. Having seen firsthand how an entire army could be brought to its knees by drinking water from the wrong stream, he was not one to take bribes to look the other way in matters concerning public health.
Tokto was similarly strict with his daughter, politely but firmly beating back her admirers whose sincerity he doubted most heartily. The general opinion was that he was putting in a double effort to protect his daughter to make up for the fact that she had lost her mother as a small child when an epidemic of Semerian malaria swept through the Empire. Indeed, Tokto had been true to his wife’s memory for seventeen years.Vordius, with his old-fashioned views and natural tenderness, found the only possible way to Septinel Tokto’s heart. With his usual directness, he made friends with the father, and after a few months Tokto told his daughter she would be a fool not to take notice of such a worthy young man. As a result, Vordius soon felt like a member of the family. That idyll was now threatened, and Vordius felt culpable for involving Luvia’s father in a matter involving a poisoning.
“I swear by the Sword of the Heavenly Throne that I will find out who did this, no matter what it takes!” He strode back and forth like a caged tiger. “How could this have happened? It makes no sense!”
His future father-in-law accepted the situation with the philosophical reserve of a professional who had been through much more serious crises, and he betrayed no sign of dissatisfaction that his beloved child had gotten mixed up in a situation that simply reeked of the underworld. Instead, he rose before the sun and, against all the rules of polite society, paid an unexpected visit to an inconspicuous villa that stood in a grove of young oaks on the edge of Trikazinso. After drinking a cup of Ulinian wine with its owner, his old friend from campaigns in Torgendam, he put a few direct questions and received reassurance that his safety and that of his daughter were being guarded by men no less talented at their work than he was at his surgery and healing work. After that early morning meeting, Tokto returned home so he could pat Vordius on the shoulder and kiss his daughter on the cheek. Before leaving home again to handle official business, he checked on his unexpected patient and reassured him that all would be well.
It did not seem that there was any serious cause for the most experienced physician in the Empire to be concerned. After sleeping for almost twelve hours in a row, Uni felt much better. He was still too weak to lift his head, but his strength was slowly returning – to the obvious surprise of Tokto and the delight of his friends.
Vordius sent word to the Guards that he was unable to report for service that day. Then he went to find Sevelia Virando and bring her to Uni, telling her on the way that her son had been laid low by the effects of fortified Torgendam wine on his tender stomach. The friends had decided to keep the truth about Uni’s near brush with death a secret until they could find out exactly what had happened. This would be the job of the newest officer in the Imperial Guard. Once Sevelia was gone (she had fortunately arrived to find her son sleeping peacefully), Vordius detained his future father-in-law to ask some detailed questions about how to find the source of the poison.
“Tokto is convinced it was cistrusa,” he announced as soon as Uni woke. Curled up on his left side with his eyes half-shut, Uni did his best to make sense of the information. “It starts to act an hour or two after you ingest it. If that’s the case, then you were poisoned at the Fish. I’ll tear that place down to the last floorboard, may the Dark Chasm take them!”
Uni took a deep breath. “I don’t think a scandal is what we need. Remember who their guests are. The owner keeps a tight watch over the kitchen. If the poisoner had tried to bribe one of the waiters or kitchen staff, it would have been discovered.” His voice trailed off. “And how would anyone in the kitchen make sure that I was the one who got the poison? It would be too difficult.”
Vordius scowled. “You should have seen how those fools jumped when I told them what happened! They paid for the carriage and offered to send a physician if only we would keep our mouths shut. You ate dinner at the Fish and nearly died on the doorstep. If the other patrons knew, they’d have the place shut down for good!”
“Exactly. That’s why I think it was someone at our table who did it.”
“One of your friends?”
“Oof.” Uni tried to sit up. “No one else could have done it. It’s awful to think about it, but if you’re right about the poison, it had to be one of our party.”
Vordius stared at him. “You don’t suspect Luvia or me, do you?”
“Of course not,” Uni smiled weakly. “You’ve had plenty of chances to kill me before this.” He patted his friend’s hand.
“Thank you for your confidence.”
“That leaves three people: Dag Vandey, Sorgius Quando, and that suspicious redhead of his.”
“I didn’t like the looks of her, either. Dag is an odd one, of course, but you’ve been friends since we were all boys…”
Uni raised an eyebrow. “He has at least one motive.”
“What are you talking about?”
Luvia slipped into the room and looked questioningly at Vordius. After a pause, he nodded at a low bench in the corner. She sat down to listen.
“I didn’t want to say anything about it, but now that this has happened I’ll have to explain,” Uni said. “Dag has been trying to get me involved in a secret society of what he calls ‘fighters for justice.’ It’s obvious that they are up to no good. They may even be plotting against our beloved Emperor. He tried to get me worked up when we were out on the balcony at the Fish. I didn’t feel like serious talk, so I brushed him off. Perhaps he got scared that I would turn him and his friends in.”
“Dag a conspirator?” Vordius laughed. “He’s just an old moaner. He whines like nobody I’ve ever met, and he can’t stop himself from passing on rumors as long as they make
