Chapter Twenty-Nine The Truth of Saevem Arthil #2
“Well, not the whole Court,” he answered reluctantly, a hint of sheepishness laced in his words.
“Judge Eridicea is sympathetic to Corio’s claims, and she has been providing him with an independent guard force to protect him and his family.
She has stated that if we ever provide her with solid evidence of the governor working with the underworld, she will entreat the other judges to our cause. ”
He said this with a keen sense of pride, but Lythlet struggled to return his enthusiasm.
“One judge out of twelve?” she said.
Saevem grimaced, deflating. His sure-footed passion faltered into a weariness that spoke of long years of fruitless politicking.
“The odds may be against us, but we are nonetheless doggedly pursuing this case. This isn’t some silly game to win the throne of Setgad, I assure you.
It is so much more to me, and to Corio. We owe it to Azuran, our dear friend, to ensure his death was not in vain.
That we can finish the case he had begun—and would’ve finished— had he not been murdered in cold blood.
Governor Matheranos robbed him of his life, just as he robs the city of justice.
In his two terms, the governor has ripped apart systems his predecessors implemented for the good of the people: cutting health ward subsidies for the poorer sectors here in the south just so his balance sheet looks prettier on the page; weakening labor protections so that employers have little need to treat their workers well, allowing his rich friends to continue enjoying unfettered wealth with little responsibility; so thoroughly gutting the city’s watch and ensuring the watchmen hired are not folk like Azuran had been—noble, justice-minded folk truly ready to serve their duty to the city—but pathetic weasels content with being bribed into silence. ”
“Why would he do this?” Desil asked tentatively. “Isn’t that just destroying the city for short-term gain, when nothing good could come of it in the long run?”
“Because he only has one term left to serve, assuming the polls prove right and he does get elected for his third term in the next election. Thanks to the precedent his ancestor Hemharrow Corinthos set, he’ll then have no choice but to leave office and politics as a whole—a death knell to the riches he could gain in power.
But imagine this: what if he were simultaneously building his bonds with the underworld, where no such limits exist?
With the Eza, who would reward him for allowing the underworld to grow without pains over the past decades?
Once he’s finished his governorship, Matheranos could then continue eking out a gloriously luxurious life working with the underworld.
And to prepare for that, to make sure all the pieces are in place for the underworld to flourish in time for his forced retirement from politics, he enacts all of his regressive policies now, while he still has the popularity and the power to do so.
The underworld thrives upon exploiting the desperately impoverished, while the highborn world does the same, albeit unwittingly.
Thus, Matheranos has implemented a slow, systematic erosion of wealth equality over the years, weakening one part of the city, your southern slums, so that he can continue to eke out a prosperous living from the underworld in the future. ”
Lythlet remained silent, slowly growing more convinced this was no conspiracy theory.
Saevem continued, “Which is why we desperately need your help, the two of you. Leverage your connection to Master Dothilos and try to dig it out of him that he has connections to Governor Matheranos, or that the Eza and the governor travel in the same circles.”
“I wish I had something to offer you, but not once has Governor Matheranos ever come up in conversation with the match-master,” she said.
Saevem nodded. “We will give it time, then. Deepen your ties with him, so that you can continue your espionage for us.”
She laughed bitterly. “The man is dangerous, waving threats of violence over me if I disobey him, and you want me to deepen my ties with him.”
He turned somber at her words. “So your bond with him is not out of amity but obligation. Dothilos is a pitiful creature, truly, but despite his sorry past, the things he’s done since are unforgivable.”
“Do you know much about him?” she said, surprised.
He nodded. “Our investigations dug up Renveld Dothilos’s history. He grew up in an orphanage, one whose matron was a kind soul. Then she went the way of the white wind, and in came her brother, and things took a turn for the worse.”
“How so?”
Saevem looked reluctant to answer, a grave expression that aged him considerably crossing his face.
“By numerous accounts, he was a violent man with an inappropriate fondness for children. His sister had done her best to keep him away from the orphans, but with her passing, there was little to stop him.”
All three retreated into silence, knowledge pricking them with discomfort. Lythlet thought of Master Dothilos’s impassioned vow to one day spit on Madam Kovetti’s corpse. Sympathy overwhelmed her.
With a deep sigh, Saevem finally resumed, “But when they were finally old enough, both Renveld and his brother Ean left the orphanage, and somehow, they got their foothold in the conquessorial business.”
“Brother?” Desil said. He looked searchingly at Lythlet, silently asking if she knew about this.
She shook her head, equally bewildered.
Saevem nodded. “They did well for themselves, in fact. Conquessing had been dying for years, but with them taking over, it started a resurgence of interest in the bloodsport. But shocking news spread one day: the orphanage had been set on fire. The orphan-keeper was found dead, charred into a blackened mess. The watchmen concluded that the fire had been started on purpose, but no culprit was apprehended. Indeed, it didn’t seem there had been much effort to do so, as the investigation was quickly swept under the carpet. ”
“It seems you suspect something, however,” she guessed from his expression. She did, too: the memory of the burn on Master Dothilos’s arm emerged in her mind.
He nodded. “Not suspect—I know who did it. My deceased friend, Azuran Telehir, had been in charge of the case for the first couple of weeks until his superior suddenly stepped in to redirect his efforts to another case. But in just those two weeks, he had closed in on Master Dothilos as the prime suspect. He’d even brought your match-master in for questioning—and he’d admitted it.
He told Azuran, without mincing words, with a great big grin like he’d just found a pot of gold, ‘ I did it .’”
Madam Kovetti lurked in the fringes of her thoughts, and her heart hardened. “The Poetics may condemn murder as an unforgivable sin, yet I can’t fault Master Dothilos for finding joy in getting his revenge. What the orphan-keeper did to him was heinous.”
Desil nodded, looking deeply disturbed by what they’d learned.
Saevem rubbed his face, looking hesitant to continue. “I agreed with you.”
“Agreed?” His choice of past tense was curious.
“I agreed that it was right for him to get revenge for his stolen childhood. How could I not? When I learned of what had happened to him, of how Renveld had been rendered mute in his early years as a result of the trauma he suffered, I’d seethed with disgust and rage.
That monstrous orphan-keeper deserved death.
But then Azuran shared some details with me that had never been made public.
The orphan-keeper was not the only victim of the fire: oil had been deliberately dripped everywhere, all around the premises, so that not a single child inside could escape.
They died trapped in the flames with their abuser and Ean. ”
Her mouth ran dry. “His brother?”
Saevem nodded darkly. “The investigation had discovered another charred corpse of a man in the midst of the ruins. No one came to claim him, and they could not identify him initially. But my watchman friend shared that the face had not been fully burnt, and there remained some blond hair and a large mole by his earlobe. Soon he learned Renveld’s brother Ean had much the same.
Indeed, as time went on, it became apparent that Ean had somehow disappeared, even as Renveld continued to succeed as match-master. ”
Lythlet furrowed her brow. A traitor , Master Dothilos had attributed his burn to. Someone who tried to destroy me when I was on the cusp of digging myself out of poverty. “What was he doing at the fire?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have the answer.
Many things were lost in those flames, the whole truth amongst them.
But I can hypothesize a few things. You see, when they took over the conquessor arenas, the bloodsport was struggling enormously.
Spectatorship had been dwindling for decades.
But although Renveld and Ean had taken over a long-sunken ship, they were determined to right it.
One thing they needed was participants, so Renveld arranged a deal with the orphan-keeper, that any capable orphan would find themselves funneled into the business of fighting beasts.
He paid the orphan-keeper handsomely in return. ”
“What?” Lythlet said incredulously.
“You heard me. Believe it or not,” Saevem said, “he brokered a deal, a very profitable one, with the very man who tormented them as children. However, it seemed after some time, that deal went south for reasons unknown to us. And so Renveld in a vindictive rage decided it was time to kill the orphan-keeper and erase all traces of his existence.”
“So what led Ean to the fire then?”
“Here, I know little, for Azuran struggled to uncover more before he was pulled off the case—we suspect his superior had been bribed into discontinuing the investigation so Renveld would be let off the hook. But I wonder if Ean had even known of Renveld’s deal with the orphan-keeper to begin with.
If he had, then perhaps he grew a conscience.
Or perhaps he heard of Renveld’s plan to burn them all and went there to stop it and save the children but perished in his efforts.
Many parts of the tale have been lost in those flames.
But one thing remains clear in my mind, and it’s his shameless confession.
I did it . He did it, it was absolutely him, and he had no guilt whatsoever about killing those children and his own brother.
He hadn’t even killed the orphan-keeper in revenge for longstanding crimes, but only to punish him for being an obstacle in his flourishing arena. Can you believe that?”
“Somehow I can,” she said quietly. “Master Dothilos is a man who values conviction, momentum, and never crossing any lines unless it benefits his coin purse. If he saw his brother as an obstacle, he’d kill him.
If he saw those orphans as beneath him, he’d crush them as collateral damage without remorse. ”
“And he’d keep the orphan-keeper alive and unbothered as long as he was useful to him,” finished Saevem. He palmed his own forehead, rubbing his skull tiredly. “The man is truly dangerous.”
She nodded grimly. “I have been searching for a way to win my freedom back from Master Dothilos without jeopardizing our jackpots. My father was a victim of the riverside flats debacle, and I’ve been bribing the arena’s physic to check on his condition and smuggle some medicine for his lungs.
As you can imagine, a black-market physic isn’t exactly the cheapest provider of care, and the bastard’s been price-gouging me for every little thing—and I’m in no position to bargain with him.
In truth, I haven’t been able to save very much for myself from my jackpots lately.
I need all the coin I can get to help my parents, so I can’t just surrender that. ”
A steely determination entered Saevem’s eyes.
“Then the next steps are clear. Spend your three remaining matches in the match-master’s good graces and learn if he has any knowledge of Governor Matheranos traversing in underworld circles.
By then, you’ll have won your final jackpot, and we’ll hopefully gather the evidence we need to damn Governor Matheranos in the eyes of the city once and for all.
If we can prove the governor’s association with the underworld to the Court, chances are Master Dothilos will be dragged into the case and imprisoned for his crimes as well. ”
Her heart skipped at this confluence of their desires. “Deal.”
“Then let me offer you a gift to celebrate your joining us,” he said with a grin. He glanced between the two of them. “Both of you have pierced ears?”
They nodded.
“Excellent.” He held forth two boxes and opened the lids, revealing two pairs of earrings. “These aren’t purely ornamental, I must warn you.”
She fumbled with the gift. “It’s made of baltascar,” she said, eyeing the opalescent sheen over the singular stud.
“It is indeed. Fauna-augmented baltascar, in fact.”
Desil fondled one. “How so?”
“Are you familiar with the fork-tailed harvirche hawk?”
“Native to the Rengalo rainforests, this bird of prey features a humble wingspan, but a supernatural sense of hearing for its fellow kin, being able to detect the cries of other harvirche hawks even from miles away,” Lythlet recited.
Saevem smiled. “You truly have made full use of the bestiary.”
“So what do these earrings do? Will we be able to hear better?” said Desil.
Saevem shook his head. “Not quite. Each pair forms a one-way communication channel—I’ll keep one, you keep the other.
Just as one harvirche hawk can hear another, I will be able to hear you wherever you are—assuming you stay within the city limits.
If you could wear these during your matches and interactions with Master Dothilos, we may be able to catch something of value.
Together, we can unroot the corruption that festers in our city. ”
He held his teacup out to them, and they clinked theirs against his.
As sweetened jasmine tea flowed down her throat, Lythlet sent a quick prayer of gratitude spiraling up to the heavens—at long last, the cogwheels of her fate were spinning in harmony, freedom and fortune teasing at her fingertips.