The sun began to set on a long day at the market. Tullius stood with Lucullus as he closed up his stall, and admired the warm colors of the sky. Lucullus also occasionally took a moment to admire the peaceful atmosphere of such a time.

“I think being at the temple really helped me to think more clearly.”

“That so, Lucullus?” He leaned against one of the vacated stalls.

He nodded. “It felt as if Ferax had opened my mind, if only for that moment.”

He smiled with content. “I’m glad to hear it. The last thing I need is you rushing off in an ill-advised decision that gets you killed.”

“O you know I’m better than that.”

He chuckled. “That’s good. Otherwise, you’d have to hope my men learn to shoot straight.”

The two laughed as Lucullus packed his remaining goods.

“I was thinking, though. What if we bring this murder to the King himself?”

He turned with a curious glance to Lucullus. “Bring it to King Titus?”

He nodded.

“I thought you didn’t want to bring it to higher courts. Surely you didn’t change your mind that much from a temple visit.”

He put his hands out as if to calm a wild dog. “Hear me out.”

He folded his arms with a sly smile. “I’m listening.”

“If we can piece together this story, which all those letters and maps point to, we would have a strong case to present. Even just the anonymous letter from House Avarus would be enough to show how deep this thing goes.”

Tullius pressed his lips together in silent contemplation. “And you think Titus will listen?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why a man wouldn’t listen to reason, if we can present it clearly.”

“I’m not sure our word will be enough for him. For a more local ruler? Sure. But not for a king. Besides, he’s the last person I’d expect to help us on this.”

Lucullus pressed him further. “If we bring the innkeeper as a witness, he could help strengthen our case.”

He rolled his eyes. “Your heart’s in the right place Lucullus, but I don’t think an innkeeper who saw someone in a black cloak with a hood on will be our decisive witness. He was a great help in getting started, but he’s not much use beyond that. Besides, we need more than one witness.”

“I know. We need at least two witnesses in the courts. But if this was something that got Decimus killed, a man of great status like him, then surely others could see that there’s something to it.”

He moved from his spot against one of the stalls. “We’ll talk about this later. Looks like it’s about time for the festivities to start. Gotta make sure I get some of that good wine. That old lady, Lucia, must have some secret ingredient in it. And I aim to find out what it is one day.”

Lucullus stacked the last of his boxes. “Try not to get too drunk figuring it out.” He jested.

Tullius smiled slyly. “I can hold my wine quite well. I assure you, I’ll figure out that secret ingredient without being too drunk to write it down.” He laughed.

Just as the last bit of daylight faded, the massive bonfire in the center of the village was lit. And everyone gathered to pass around wine and give thanks to Ferax and the other gods of Scindoist pantheon for a bountiful harvest. Many of the villagers sang hymns from the temple ceremonies. Others chatted away about the year’s harvest, the rumors of unrest amongst Lucium’s western neighbors, and of events from their personal lives.

Lucullus gave a toast to Tullius, as was their tradition. “To the honor and glory of Ferax.”

“To the honor and glory of Ferax.”

“And may he continue to watch over my fields, and bring prosperity to this village.”

Tullius reclined alongside Lucullus in the grass. The warmth of the fire was a nice change of pace to his routine patrols. “I have to wonder why the elders of the village insisted on keeping that silly tradition in this celebration.”

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He took a gulp of wine. “You mean the ridiculous dances, or the fact that a lot of people here seemed to have lost most of their garments?”

“I suppose a bit of both actually. Though I don’t mind dancing, I just don’t see why we don’t take some dances from the people in the capital.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps you ought to show these people how it’s done, then.” He motioned for him to get up. “Come on, now.”

He waved dismissively. “I think you’ve had too much wine if you think I’m that daring.”

“You just might find a wife with your posh dances.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll just let the women do the dancing right now. They’ve got more elegance in their step than I do.”

In an instant, Lucullus’s mind was once again preoccupied with the investigation and Decimus’s death. The sobering reality of the situation made his face grim. None of the dancing or music could break his stream of grim thoughts.

One of the young men walked over and sat next to him. “Oy, Lucullus. See a wife out there?”

Lucullus snapped out of his focus. He motioned for the man to go away. “I’ve got too much on my mind to think about women doing silly dances.”

Another of the young men chimed in. “That’s quite the mood change, Lucullus. Just a second ago, you seemed like you were having a good time.”

He sighed. “Reality set in. That’s all.”

Before the others could heckle him more, one of the village elders announced the start of the partner dances.

“Well, if you’re too busy with reality, we’ll make sure to leave an ugly one for you.” They snickered as they raced off like dogs.

He shook his head in disappointment.

Tullius tried pulling his arm to make him stand up. “C’mon Lucullus. Lighten up, and enjoy yourself. Finding a woman with an elegant step can help ease your burdened mind.”

He stood up, and gave a dismissive wave. “If you want to fool with those women, I won’t stop you. But I’m going to head back to the house. I’ve got something on my mind. It’s about those documents, and I can’t be at peace until I figure it out.”

“We can look at it tomorrow.”

His expression became stern. “I can’t wait that long. By all means; join in on this decadent dance. I can’t be bothered at the moment.” He started to walk off.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.”

He glanced back. “I won’t.”

Before Tullius could say anything else, he felt someone pull him into the midst of the crowd.

Lucullus dumped the letters and map onto the table. He went to the chest where he kept his traveling provisions, and pulled out his map of Lucium. As he compared the routes drawn on Decimus’s map with the roads listed on his own, he began to notice a pattern. All the roads in the routes were known for being extremely dangerous.

It was nearing midnight, and he knew he was close to figuring out the meaning of the map. As if someone whispered it into his ear, he realized something about the letters. He was amazed he hadn’t noticed it sooner. In a dash, he went back to his personal chest, and dug out some old letters Decimus wrote to him about his experiences from one of Lucium’s eastern neighbors.

He returned to the table, anxious, and eyes wide. With the letters laid out in front of him, and after taking the time to analyze them, it became abundantly clear. Of the three letters found in Decimus’s scrip, only the letter requesting a meeting didn’t resemble Decimus’s handwriting. Perhaps he’d focused too much on the sketches in the letters, and on what the letters said. He began to theorize about a potentially missing letter. If Decimus met with this person to gain some information, there’s no way he wouldn’t get it in writing. It was the only logical conclusion for him. He never got the chance to search the body, so it may have been on his person.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of many footsteps approaching his house. It certainly wasn’t his mother. She was still at the festival, and would probably spend the next morning with the other women of the village helping clean up.

He went to grab his sword, thinking it might be a routine bandit raid on his farm. It’s the perfect time for brigands to make trouble, given most people wouldn’t be home. He peered through the window, but couldn’t make out who it was. Knowing these people were approaching fast, he moved to the door, and prepared for a fight.

The door flew open as the assailants kicked it out of the way. They poured into the house, weapons at the ready. Lucullus drew his sword, and instinctively lunged toward one of the trespassers, slashing him across the shoulder, though it was mostly absorbed by the man’s armor.

As the men drew closer to the candlelight illuminating small portions of the house, Lucullus realized he was fighting the village guards.

His eyes weighed heavy, and his vision was blurred by his tiredness. “What is the meaning of this? Have you all lost your minds?”

One of the guards spoke up, halting his assault after seeing Lucullus back down. “You’re under arrest, Lucullus. Don’t try resisting. You’re surrounded.”

He tightened his grip on the sword in his hand. “What sort of joke is this? I’ve done nothing wrong.” He raised his sword. “I won’t comply with an unlawful arrest. Tullius shall give each of you several lashings for this.”

The guards scoffed at him, and moved in to strike.

Lucullus leveraged his size against them, and slashed two guards in a single stroke. But no matter how much he tried, the guards were relentless. Eventually, they overwhelmed him, and knocked him to the ground. He shouted in anger as he crashed onto the wooden floor. The guards tied his hands and feet.

“Woe to all of you! Snakes in the night, all of you!”

One guard laughed, then kicked him in the ribs. “Silence. You resisting arrest was the stupidest thing you could’ve done, Lucullus. Now you’ve guaranteed that charges will be made against you.” The guard turned back to one of his comrades. “Perhaps Lord Quintilius was right. Lucullus does have that killer instinct.” He shook his head in disappointment.

Lucullus spat upon one of the guards. “Tullius won’t stand for this foolishness.” He attempted to break the rope binding his hands and feet together.

The apparent leader of the group looked at Lucullus struggle. “I guess he wants to do things the hard way.” He motioned for one of the guards. “Gaius, knock ‘em out. We can’t have him kicking and screaming the whole way back to the jail.”

The guard nodded and did as ordered.

“All of you are the lowest—”