The Verge Of An Empire

11

The carriage drove through the armored gates of the palace of law, the constables, on the orders of Aberlein, pulled out the body and dragged it inside. I looked around, studying the red snow, the leaden-red sky, the red netancrises. Everything appears red through red lenses. Sometimes it seems to me that the world is well watered with blood. Perhaps it should be annoying, but I feel quite comfortable seeing the world this way. However, you have to take off your glasses to make sure the snow is white, because I love white snow. Because it's so right.

The hall, as always, is packed with constables receiving directions to different parts of the city. In the general mass, broad-shouldered lups and huge dahorachi stand out especially. By nightfall, there will be no dahorachs, they are not able to serve without a constant source of light, but there will be more zheshzuls. They are much more active at night than during the day. Although the rest of the inhabitants of the capital hate them equally at any time of the day. How else can you relate to a creature that wants to devour your soul?

The corpse in hand provided us with a pleasantly empty elevator. It's not that the constables were afraid of dead bodies, all the alleys of the Bottom are littered with this good, where they no, no, and even have to be. But still nice. Sebastina giggled as the elevator started moving. We drove down to the dungeons under Scoalt Yard, to where the prison cells and the dead room are. The engineers carefully planned everything when they built the Tower - the morgue and the cameras are located nearby for a reason, the proximity of the dead calms even the most violent. It becomes especially quiet when the workers of the mortuary are carrying the bodies past the cells, it's faster that way. But there is a detour, a long, curved corridor, dimly lit by electric lamps and tiled. The mortuary was equipped with the latest technology, the equipment was designed and helped to install by the chinops themselves. Gone are the days when, in the cellars of the Tower, corpses were laid out on a glacier, now there are freezers pumping streams of cold into metal cells-crypts. Anyone who visits the mortuary even once will be able to fully appreciate the beauty of the cold, gloomy environment, enjoy the gleam of metal pipes and the smell of mint ointment, which is used by workers to drown out the smell of decaying flesh during autopsies.

“Than el'Moria, what an honor! exclaimed the senior coroner at the operating table, wiping his hands with a towel.

- I have no doubt, Mr. Tatsik!

Loyza Tatsik, senior coroner at Scoalt Yard, is a high-ranking official who has long since had the need to perform autopsies on her own, but whose hands are always hungry for the practice she loves. The sweetest person, good-natured and pious, he has a delightful habit of wiping his hands as he walks in such a way that it looks as if he is about to offer a handshake. Oily and sticky handshake. A small, chubby man with a shiny bald head and a bushy mustache that fades into sideburns.

- Who was opened?

- Yes, one unfortunate one! I bit my tongue and choked, nothing like that!

- So, there are no interesting cases?

- You will, my thane! I love my job, but I can't savor different occasions! It's so ridiculous!

“Mr. Varzov and I disagree with you. But since you're so bored, why don't you take care of my dead?

- Yours? Are you talking about the late de Moranjac, may the All-Father accept him?

- And about him, and about his family, and about the servants. The cause of death is unknown. Intriguing, right?

“I’ll start as soon as the forensic magicians come down here with permission from relatives. You want a full autopsy, don't you?

- Exactly. Aberlein, why aren't they here yet?

“My thane, I can’t answer…”

- Okay, but someone will pay with a chair, mark my word! Let's go to Thane el'Rumar!

It is easy to get lost in the dungeons of Scoalt Yard, but there is enough space for almost everything that the management's imagination was enough for. For example, a small cozy room that looks like an expensively furnished study with beautiful bookcases, warm light, wood paneling on the walls and a soft fleecy carpet. It was in this room that we entered after knocking. Tenkris sat at a huge table covered with a green cloth tablecloth with a cup of tea and an open book.

It was an extremely unusual tenkris, very original. It's easier to find a man with three arms on the streets of Starkrar than a tencris without a waist. Tromgar el'Rumar had always struck me as a polished, well-groomed fat man, overweight but not bloated. Round face, neat sideburns, the same neat parting in shiny red hair. His eyes were full of poisonous green and ancient power. I would say that his eyes did not suit him at all, they did not fit with the appearance of a soft domestic thane, in which only the family name remained from the greatness of the ancestors.

Thane el'Rumar! How many years!

“Not much, Thane el'Moria. My regards.

Restrained, educated snob. Well, at least he doesn't spit with hatred for me, so we can assume that I am almost not disgusting to him.

'To what do you owe your visit, Thane el'Moria?

- Why, I looked into the Tower, heard that you returned to the service, I decided to pay a courtesy call.

“But it seems to me that you are here purely on business,” he said, looking at the bag.

- Ah, this! It's just a gift! You know, they go to a lady with flowers, but to a good dance with something more substantial. With a corpse, for example.

“I have no desire to juggle words with you, tan el'Moria. Everyone knows that you are a great master of daring verbiage and verbal bickering. I try to use words exclusively with benefit. You know, they are worth a lot, the words of a true tenkris. Are there sanctions for the procedure?

“I think my insignia will suffice.

– Do you think? Do you think that you can just come in and authorize a strictly limited procedure with one of your desires?

“If my word is not enough for you, I will tell the Emperor to take the time to personally visit your dear nook, thane, to convince you to help me.”

Judging by his face and emotions, he did not believe me, but, being by nature absurdly non-confrontational, but simply grumpy, he decided not to continue.

- Put the body on the table and fasten it. Prepare a list of questions, everything is extremely precise and short. The soul won't last long.

Clearing the table of unnecessary items, el'Rumar stepped aside and slowly began to roll up his sleeves.

- Aberlein, remove the cloth from the table, Sebastina, you know in which drawer the chains and shackles are in, and you, gentlemen of the constables, put our witness on the tabletop! Fast!

The cloth was removed, and a tabletop of hardwood appeared for everyone to see, all mottled with deep scratches and covered with stubborn dark spots of quite obvious origin. The table has no legs, if you look closely, this wooden hulk, covered with skillful carvings, looks more like an altar than a table. It even has built-in rings for installing chains. The body was laid out on the table, and Sebastina, with eerie dexterity, placed the shackles around the wrists and ankles of the dead man. The constables obeyed in silence as I pointed my cane to the door.

“What shall we ask the dead man, Aberlein?”

“I don’t know, my thane. I have no experience in dealing with the dead.

“This is a big omission, Aberlein! Follow me and learn! Matt, are you ready?

EL'Rumar ignored the mistreatment and moved closer to the body. His loose tie hung down, and the button of his collar was undone - an unacceptable liberties in clothes for a noble thane.

- I'm starting. Tromgar placed his left hand on the cold white forehead and his right on the middle of the dead man's chest.

It is strange to see a plump tencris preparing for something significant and dangerous. No, history is always made by charismatic handsome men - if they are soldiers, and flabby spoiled fat men - if they are politicians. This, of course, is a convention, but I am sure that funny plump men without ambition do not create history.

Tromgar el'Rumar comes from a not very noble and not very wealthy family. Of course, all tencris are born and live like the First, the greatest kind, in which even the weakest is stronger than the most tenacious representatives of other peoples. We are visionaries, any of us is better than any of them, this is our ideological axiom, which, however, we do not impose on anyone. And yet, within our species, we share, and we share very strictly. There is a table of nobility, there is a table of wealth, but the most important of them is a table of blood purity. The silver eyes of the imperial family, the strong ancient seed passed from ruler to ruler, is the backbone of our species. Tromgar came from the usual tenkris, a noble by birth, but who among us is not a noble! He would have lived a calm noble life without accomplishments and glory, if not for the voice that sounded late. For a long time he was generally considered a defective tenkris. The Voice did not appear in childhood, did not appear in adolescence, and later, until one day, at the funeral ceremony for his mother, Tromgar forced the deceased to open her eyes and speak. His voice commanded the dead, another detail that did not fit into the image of a chubby thane.

- He's coming, get ready, there won't be much time! El'Rumar's eyes glowed with a mystical green.

The corpse twitched, then again and again, a spasm ran through the dead muscles, and the dead man arched with a wheeze. His nails dug into the tabletop, leaving new scratches on it, and the crunch of crumbling teeth came from his mouth. Finally, the body relaxed, and eyes full of greenish whiteness stared blindly at the ceiling. No matter how many times I watch el'Rumar at work, I never tire of admiring him.

Do you know the name of your killer? I asked softly, leaning towards the dead man's ear.

“No,” he whispered back.

Do you know why he killed you?

- No.

- What did you do for him?

- Bring the box.

“To the house of a rich gentleman in the Imperial Gardens?”

- Yes.

- What was in that box?

- Don't know.

What did the person who killed you look like?

- From the darkness.

Aberlaine almost managed to suppress a frightened cry, el'Rumar flinched perceptibly, but did not remove his hand.

– What from darkness?

- He said.

“He was hiding in the dark, and you didn’t see his face?”

- Yes.

What did he give you for your work?

- Coins.

- Where are they?

- Under the floorboard.

"He's leaving," croaked Tromgar el'Rumar, sweating all over him.

“Let him go, tan.

Kindred tore his hands from the corpse, and for the deceased, it was as if decades had flown by overnight, the flesh decayed before his eyes, the muscles slipped, the bones turned to dust, only the clothes remained on the table.

“Sebastina, be so kind as to clean up here.

- Yes, master.

“The only thing I like about you, Thane el'Moria,” Tromgar said wearily, striding over to the wall-mounted sink, “you always bring a maid with you to clean up this mess.

“Here, Aberlein, is another reason why Silvio de Moranjak is not on this table. The trouble is that his relatives will not allow him to do this to a noble person. The followers of the All-Father are extremely sensitive to the carcasses of their dead, you know? You are a man and a follower of the All-Father, you cannot but know. And according to the laws of the Meskian Empire, we have absolute freedom of religion. You can even pray to a lamppost, no one will forbid you. The right to faith is sacred, and its basic postulates are immutable, if they do not harm other subjects. Do you know that lups eat their dead? And it's legal because they're not hurting anyone. So that. A person must lie in the ground, and after the work of Tan el'Rumar, there is nothing to put in the grave. There is nothing to put in the grave - there is no afterlife to be seen. Your religion is very inconvenient for me, Aberlein. It annoys me.

“Eh… sorry, my thane.

- It's not your fault. Sebastian?

“All clear, my thane.

- We are leaving. My thanks, tan el'Rumar.

‘Go, go, Interrogator Thane, and don’t hurry back.

“Did you notice, Aberlein? I asked the young investigator as we walked along the half-dark corridors.

“Did I notice that the waistcoat that was tight around the stomach of Thane el'Rumar became looser after the procedure, that his cheeks and eyes were sunken, and that he himself became paler?”

“Excellent observations, Aberlein! Our good Thane el'Rumar deliberately wears stocks of blubber on his flanks. When working, they are consumed at a monstrous rate, and by the end of the labor period, he looks more like an insect than like a tenkris. So, Aberlein, now you're going to go back to the End and make the investigators climb all the floors in that wreck! Find me these coins! If it was not paid in banknotes, then there may be something. Do not take money into your hands, immediately pass it on to the magicians, let them look for fragments of auras that are different from those that fill the house.

As soon as we got off the elevator, Aberlein walked quickly down the hall.

Weaving between the black uniforms, Sebastina and I went straight and slowly, we were given way.

"He'll be good, Sebastina, mark my words!"

“You are right, as always, master.

- I am hungry! I want to go to Oak Branch!

I have completed all the foreseeable things for today, but the sun has not even reached the middle of the sky yet! Who knows what poisonous snake will be waiting for me if I return home right now! I pulled my palm back as far as it would go, and a sparkling blade popped out of my left sleeve with a click. Superb lunar steel, amazingly sharp blade, thin but strong mechanism! The work of a genius, original, there is no other completely identical to my hidden blade in the world.

“Are you thinking of Tanya el'Moria, master?”

- About grandma? No! I'm thinking lamb saddle with sauce!

Oak Branch is a very good respectable restaurant. There are some delights there, but only citizens with the appropriate income are allowed to enter, there are no specific distinctions, there is not even a private hall for thanes. Aristocrats consider this place the height of liberalist views, and therefore the silver youth from the juvenile party often visits there and takes large tables for noisy parties.

“My thane, welcome to the Oak Branch.” The head waiter, dressed in a black tailcoat, bowed to me as he stepped out from behind the counter.

“My table and the room of the Imperial Prophet.”

“I regret to inform you, my thane, that your table is currently occupied. The institution offers its sincere apologies. We can put you at another table, which, I assure you, is just as good. All at the expense of the institution.

I can see for myself that my desk is occupied. A noisy company of young blond tans and tanyas having a great time at a luxurious meal.

“Have you warned them whose position they are in?”

“Repeatedly, my dancer,” the head waiter assured me warmly and sincerely, “but the illustrious dancers were stubborn.

- I'll come closer. I want to see these brave men.

“As my thane wishes,” he agreed meekly.

“And don’t worry, my dear, I love this place too much to spoil its reputation with some stupid scandals. I just want to say hello to my family.

Sebastina and I walked slowly to my table, which I have a lifetime reservation and is always ready for me whenever I visit the Oak Branch. Those who took my table did it on purpose. There are plenty of empty seats around, but they needed mine.

“Good afternoon, noble thanes.

They turned their heads towards me and I could see their faces. Mikar el'Zornaza, Valthek el'Dronza and Frozan el'Gahan. I didn’t care about the young tanis, they were just a pleasant company, but the young tanis themselves are the heirs of the very rich and influential families of Starkrar. Their fathers are not in the last positions in the monodominant party, and the heirs themselves proudly wear the badges of the said party on their lapels. Have you really decided to tease the liberals and occupy their favorite place, impudent rascals? El'Dronza and el'Gahan looked at el'Zornaz, betraying his leadership position in their group. Not strange, because even among their fathers, Ogaren el'Zornaza played the role of leader. Before, I had seen these worthy thanes only in the company of their fathers, and, of course, I had no joy in knowing them intimately. Although young Mikar, there was a case, said to my face everything

“Good day to you too, Thane el'Moria,” el'Zornaza smiled politely, washing me over with powerful waves of hatred and contempt. - What do you owe the meeting to?

“You have taken my place, venerable thanes.

- ABOUT! Really?! He allowed himself a cheeky grin. But it happens here and there in life! Don't you know!

An outburst of laughter followed, supported by Tanya's modest giggle. I patiently waited for them to finish, after which I said:

“That desk still belongs to me, as does the High Interrogator's chair. Nothing has changed, venerable thanes, and your hands are weak to hold him. If I want something, I get it. Don't you know!

Their wicked amusement subsided instantly. Hatred flared up in the soul of Mikar el'Zornaz with renewed vigor. Just a little more, and the hand clutching the table knife will rush to my throat. I play dirty, it's true, but I'm what the tenkris made me to be. Alas. Even if they consider me the dregs of Meskian society, I am a prominent official and much older than all of them, and the advantage in age means a lot to tenkris.