It took them the rest of the day to conduct interviews. Speaking further with the servants of the household provided few additional clues. Senator Barelis had taken dinner, though had eaten very little, then he had retired early for the night and asked not to be disturbed. He had taken no other visitors during the night. Thus, it was only when the Senator Vascatos had arrived in the morning and called on Barelis that his body was found.
The servants noted that Vascatos was a frequent visitor, as the two senators were friends and close confidantes. With further questioning, it became clear that the two men were often at each other’s houses late into the night. Alexandros took note of the servants’ tact in these statements—although they never stated it as such, Alex surmised that the two were likely lovers. There were no laws against such things in Eletheia, nor was the public sentiment toward same-sex relationships particularly negative. Relationships flourished in many forms within the great city. But people with power often had reasons to be discreet regarding their relationships. Any information could be used as leverage, and knowledge of two senators in a relationship with each other could lead to accusations of bias or collusion, under the right circumstances. Such was the life of politics.
Alex and Ezita next made their way to the Solus, the legislative building in the very heart of the city. The grand building itself was old, dating back close to the founding of the city itself. Alex had some vague recollection of hearing it was once a temple or somesuch, but nowadays it was the place where laws were born and where they died. The building was grandiose, elaborately constructed with great granite columns adorning the peaked facade, and extending upward to a great terracotta dome. Around the sides and back of the Solus were well-kept gardens, with bushes and flowers that framed the ancient architecture with greenery and coloration.
In front of the edifice was a large open cobblestone square, which in more recent days had become the location where the democratic assemblies took place. As the two investigators approached the area, they witnessed a small crowd gathered in the square, loosely grouped in front of a short, balding man who was standing atop a box-crate to remain visible. This clerk was disinterestedly reading out the text of a propositus from a parchment scroll, speaking in a monotone voice that was barely audible above the hum of the gathering. Beside him, a senator stood smiling, dressed in the white toga worn by all senators during the course of their official duties. Ezita overheard the clerk saying something about taxes on imported chickens. From within the relative anonymity of the crowd, a voice shouted out, “That’s right, the senators want us to rely on them, they’re our own local chickens!” A few chuckles rang out from the congregation; then another piped up, “More like cocks, you mean!” which elicited a few whooping cheers. As the comments rang out, the smile on the senator’s face dropped into a frown. The clerk stopped reciting for a moment, looking up over the paper at the crowd; then he sighed and kept reading.
Before he could finish another sentence, another voice called out, “When are we goin’ ta get another feast day, anyway? They cancelled the solstice feast on us, when are we gettin’ another one?” This elicited much approval from the crowd. Then another: “Yeah, you bastards owe us one! And all this talk of chicken is getting me hungry for a feast!” Several more commoners from the gathered throng began chiming in with more comments, as both clerk and senator began to look more exasperated.
At this point, Ezita looked over at Alex with a raised eyebrow. “Is this always how the process goes?”
Alex chuckled and shrugged. “Beats me—I don’t normally come to these things. I don’t really have strong opinions about chicken.”
The senator, clad in white, raised his voice above the crowd at this point. He looked visibly angry, perhaps with a tinge of apprehension. “People, hush now! We are here to decide about import taxes, not blather on about feasts! Clerk, hurry up and call for the vote and get this over with.”
With the crowd still murmuring, the clerk called for Yeas and Nays in turn—to which the opposition greatly outweighed the assent. “The Nays have it; the propositus has not been ratified and will be returned to the Senate.” The clerk made a note at the bottom of the parchment scroll, then as quickly as he could, he stepped off the box-crate, picked it up, and both he and the senator walked back into the Solus. The buzz of the restive crowd increased in volume until the commoners began to disperse.
Here, in the square, the unwashed masses now had the right to shout their Yeas and Nays to voice their will. Yet, inside the building the nobility still clung to their power—the seat of the Senate, which retained its authority as the author and creator of the laws, even if now those decrees had to be presented before the Demos, the common people, for approval. With the system still in its infancy, not a soul within the city truly could be said to know what changes in the shape or power of the Senate would manifest over the next few years. But for now, with a great shift in power, the politics of the city stood precariously on the knife’s edge.
* * *
“I fear that you may not appreciate the gravity of this situation for us, noble Senators. Kyrenos relies heavily on its exports of silks and other textiles, and piracy of these goods upon the open sea means food taken from the mouths of our people.” Lia Costantinalli paused for a moment to let the emotional appeal sink in. She stood before a small committee of senators of Eletheia, with whom she was now trying to negotiate a delicate dispute. As ambassador for her native city of Kyrenos, however, negotiation was what she did best.
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Both cities shared the same waters, each situated in the region of Pyrith, on the edge of the peninsula which jutted out into the great Salacian Sea. They shared a language, many customs and fashions, and ways of living. And yet, their proximity did not always lead to friendship. Eletheia, ruled by its senators—and now also its citizens—had occasionally clashed with Kyrenos, ruled by King Titos Marinakos. The ambassador often needed to resolve issues of politics and trade, with Eletheia as well as the other cities in the region. In most cases, the issues were minor, resolved with some gestures of goodwill. But Costantinalli knew that this time might be a real challenge.
Senator Petras leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees. “We extend our sympathies to your people, robbed of their food, but what has this to do with our city? Are you here requesting charitable aid?”
Costantinalli extended a hand outward, gracefully but precisely, and gave a slight bow. “No, dear senator, that is not why I am here. Indeed, I have received credible information that stolen Kyrenian silks appeared for sale in Eletheian shops shortly after the ship they were on was intercepted by pirates, not far off the coast around this great city. I can produce a witness to this information if desired.”
Upon Costantinalli’s words, the senators began to murmur their discontent. “That is outrageous! You dare to accuse our city for your merchants’ loss of goods?” Senator Miskouli stood up and wagged a disapproving finger at the ambassador. “Of course our merchants sell Kyrenian silks—but you can’t possibly prove that those silks were stolen! We are no safe haven for pirates!” Several of the other senators nodded their approval.
Here Senator Vascatos spoke up. His arms were crossed, and he squinted at Costantinalli as she clasped her hands. “It seems mighty convenient that you come to us at just such a time with these accusatory words. There are pirates on the seas, of course; of this no one can dispute. That is why most trade merchants take precautions; they arm themselves and their crew, they insure themselves against damages. But now, suddenly, you come to us to demand that we deal with a ‘piracy problem,’ a problem which has existed for as long as ships have sailed the seas—and meanwhile, while you come to us with deference and geniality, Kyrenos tries to push through their own grain shipments that put gold in their own coffers and undercut our farmers’ livelihoods! Food taken from the mouths of your people, indeed! Perhaps if you didn’t insist on exporting so much of it to send our farmers into pover—”
At this moment an aide, having quietly hurried in, had grasped Vascatos’ shoulder and whispered into his ear. He cut his words short, and his face changed to a look of apprehension for a moment, before he caught himself. He looked around the room, nodding at the ambassador and the senators. “Excuse me; I have been called out on pressing matters. I’m afraid I must leave the rest of you to address this concern for the moment.”
* * *
It had taken the two investigators, navigating the twisting side passageways of the Solus, nearly twenty minutes to find Senator Vascatos. Each senator had their own offices within the legislative labyrinth, but Vascatos was not in his. In the end, they had to ask several senatorial aides and clerks to find his whereabouts, until one finally went to retrieve him from the meeting of the select committee on trade.
When he arrived, he guided them back toward his office, to a small and quiet library within, and began unprompted to describe what had happened that morning—he arrived at the house, went into the bedroom to greet his friend Barelis, and was horrified at the sight that greeted him. He told the servants to call for the Vigil, and then he came straight to the Solus, as he had important matters that could not wait.
Vascatos himself was a handsome, middle-aged man, with brown hair and eyes that complemented his olive complexion. Ordinarily, his hair was carefully coiffed, but today it was ruffled, a little out of sorts. His white toga looked as though it had been hastily arranged. Ezita noticed a slight tremble in the man’s hand as he spoke, and frequent fidgeting with the ring on his hand, gold with a sizable garnet gemstone.
“And these important matters—they were more important than helping us catch the person who murdered your friend?” Alex narrowed his eyes as he questioned the senator, looking for a clue into his state of mind.
“Well, of course! My senatorial duties do not wait; I had a trade committee meeting, hearing an ambassador of Kyrenos. These are delicate affairs, you see.” Vascatos looked down for a moment; then his face softened. “And, well…to tell the truth, seeing Dimitrios—Senator Barelis, that is—like that, it was…it was horrible. I could scarcely breathe, I had to get out of there. I suppose, now that I think of it, I could have missed today’s meeting, but, well…it was a good excuse to take my mind off the whole situation.”
Alex nodded sympathetically. “Well, we are trying to do everything we can to discover what happened. The more information we have, and the sooner we get it, the better. Now, tell me, did Mr. Barelis have any enemies?”
At this, Vascatos snorted with a wry chuckle. “Of course! He is a politician! We all have our enemies.” Alex clarified that he meant enemies who would be willing to kill. At this, Vascatos’s face grew very serious, and he exhaled deeply as he chose his next words carefully.
“Senator Barelis was not in agreement with the changes that Princeps Lazili forced upon our government, nor was I. Lazili pushed sweeping changes through, using every underhanded method in the book to bring about their vision. Our Senate is meant to be a venerated institution, a place where people with experience and prudence discuss the important matters to guide our city—and now Lazili has turned it into a circus where anyone off the street can toss their opinions around! Barelis and I were outspoken about our disagreement with this.
“But,” and here his voice turned to a whisper as he leaned in conspiratorially, “this has made us many enemies among the common people. Some resent our perspectives on the matter; they think that they should be allowed to decide on laws by simply standing on a box in the public square and yelling loudly enough. Or if necessary, by taking up arms. I am concerned that my friend Dimitrios was a victim to someone who was willing to take such matters to the extreme. And I am concerned that I may be next.”