by Martin Scott
‘Actually, I’m a well-known friend of Nioj,’ I interrupt.
‘What?’
‘I’ve done a lot of work for Nioj in my time. Always helping out your citizens in Turai. King Lamachus once sent me a letter of appreciation.’
Legate Denpir almost explodes. ‘This is preposterous!’
‘Not at all. The first time I worked for Nioj involved the Niojan embassy in Turai. Tricky case where they were sure the Samsarinans had been spying on them. They were very complimentary when I sorted it out for them. Ambassador Dimachus thanked me in person. After that the Niojans regarded me as a good man to have on their side. There was another awkward affair where the Niojan Ambassador’s daughter was accused of stealing. Looked like a major international incident till I took matters in hand. I had to stand up to some important people in Turai to defend Niojan interests, but once I’m on a case, I don’t back down. After I cleared the Ambassador’s daughter’s name, they were impressed enough to send a report to Nioj and the King’s Legate wrote to me, thanking me for my efforts.’
‘And so,’ I say, in conclusion. ‘You may trust that the investigation is proceeding smoothly, in the hands of a man who has, on numerous occasions, done excellent service for Nioj. I’ll sort it this for you. Operational details need to remain secret for the meantime, but with your co-operation, I’ll solve this mystery. You can depend on that.’
Denpir glowers at me. ‘The King’s Legate wrote to you?’
‘Rather a fulsome letter. It’s hanging on my wall in Turai.’
‘So you see, gentlemen,’ says Lisutaris. ‘There could be no better man than Captain Thraxas to unravel this mystery. Now I really must bring this meeting to a close. Lord Kalith ar Yil is outside, waiting to see me on important business.’
Legate Denpir is nonplussed. He’s not prepared to let things go, but Bishop-General Ritari, apparently satisfied that their affairs are safe in the hand of Thraxas, number one chariot at investigating, salutes our Commander and ushers the Legate out of the tent. Lisutaris turns to me. ‘The King of Nioj wrote you a thank-you letter?’
Makri laughs, which is unprofessional of her. She stifles it quickly.
‘No, I just made that up. I’ve never worked for Nioj.’
‘You do have a talent for lying, I’ll give you that.’
‘What if Legate Denpir wants to see the glowing letter of thanks you have on your wall?’ asks Makri. ‘Given that it doesn’t exist.’
‘If we ever get that far we’ll have chased the Orcs out of Turai by then. Who’s going to care? Anyway, I could say it was lost during the war.’
‘Have you actually made any progress with the investigation?’ asks Lisutaris.
‘Not much. But my lies will keep the Niojans happy till we reach Turai.’
‘I suppose that’s something. Do you think Archbishop Gudurius might be behind the murder?’
I’m surprised to hear this from Lisutaris. ‘Why do you say that? Do you have some information?’
‘Nothing that relates to this case. But I know Gudurius of old. I encountered him when he was a young Pontifex visiting Turai with his bishop. The bishop died not long after, and there was gossip among the Niojan sorcerers that Gudurius was responsible. He was promoted to bishop soon afterwards.’
‘You’re saying he’s killed to advance his career?’
‘So it was rumoured.’
It’s an interesting piece of information, one I’ll bear in mind when I interview the Archbishop.
‘And now,’ says Lisutaris. ‘Kalith ar Yil really is waiting to see me. He’s probably wondering where I was last night when he tried to contact me.’
‘I take it you don’t want him to learn you were indisposed in my wagon?’
‘I’d rather he didn’t.’
‘I’ll tell him something convincing.’
Lisutaris nods. ‘I expect you will.’
‘Maybe instead of making Thraxas your Chief of Security you should just have employed him to lie for you?’ suggests Makri.
‘Much the same thing, on occasion,’ I reply. Bring in the Elvish Lord, I’ll sort him out.’
Chapter Thirteen
Not long afterwards I’m standing outside, halfway between the command centre and Makri’s small tent, feeling pleased with myself. ‘That went well,’ I say to her. ‘An Elvish lord is never going to be able to tell when I’m lying. Where he comes from everyone talks to the trees.’
‘No they don’t.’
‘I remember a lot of talking to trees when we were on Avula. Anyway, tree-talking or not, Lisutaris is in the clear and I’ve once more rescued our War Leader from a tricky situation. And what about the way I bamboozled these Niojans? It’s a gift, Makri.’
Makri claims not to be impressed. ‘If you’d made more progress with your investigation you wouldn’t have had to lie to the Niojans. If Lisutaris hadn’t smoked too much thazis, you wouldn’t have had to lie to the Elves. It’s not really something to brag about.’
Makri’s puritanical tendencies are re-surfacing, probably due to her irritation at being banished from the command tent. Lisutaris temporarily dispensed with her services as Tirini Snake Smiter was on her way. ‘I don’t trust Tirini to protect her.’
‘The tent is surrounded by her personal guard. She’ll be fine.’
‘How do we know Deeziz the Unseen isn’t creeping around?’
Deeziz the Unseen, the most powerful Orcish sorcerer, has baffled us in the past, infiltrating our ranks. ‘Last time Deeziz appeared, Lisutaris came into direct contact with her. She says Deeziz can never come close again without her recognising her, no matter how she’s disguised. I hope that’s true. Anyway, don’t you need time off? You’re meant to be helping Arichdamis with his mathematics.’
Makri’s shoulders droop. ‘I know.’
‘Then why aren’t you hurrying in Arichdamis’s direction?’
‘You know why I’m not.’
‘Still finding the mathematics too complicated?’
‘Everyone would find it too complicated. Create a path through multiple dimensions so that protective sorcery may flow through a trench which zigzags through a space which is surrounded by hostile sorcery. Try not to kill anyone in the process. The whole thing is absurd. Yesterday Arichdamis told me he was sure he’d calculated the path through the fourth dimension properly but we couldn’t check it any more because that might cause the figures to change and affect things when his sorcery reached the fifth dimension.’
I blink. ‘What?’
‘Some of the calculations can’t be checked. We have to get the figures right, and go with that. If you check them again it changes things.’
‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘I know. None of it makes sense.’
‘How can checking the figures change things?’
Makri shrugs. ‘Arichdamis explained it but I got lost. Something about tiny packets of sorcery which exist in a place we can never precisely locate, and if we checked the figures again it would cause these tiny packets of sorcery to move somewhere else and ruin everything.’
‘Is he insane?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Drinking too much?’
‘Not as far as I can see,’ says Makri. ‘He’s always been abstemious.’
‘But how can you check his figures if you can’t check his figures?’
‘I can check them before he writes them down in his final manuscript. But after that you can’t analyse them any more. Not that I can really check them because it’s too complicated anyway.’
Senior officers walk briskly by, on their way to the command tent for orders. We’re not far from Turai and there’s no rest for anyone.
‘Makri, you’re not making this plan sound very credible. Arichdamis might be a genius but I’m not sure about putting our fate in his hands. What about this other helper, Lezunda Blue Glow? Does he still understand all this?’
&
nbsp; ‘He says he does.’ Makri frowns. ‘I’m not convinced. I don’t get the impression he’s such a great mathematical genius. I think he’s in over his head, just like me, but doesn’t want to admit it.’
Makri straightens up. ‘I’d better get over there. I never thought I’d end up scared to attend a mathematics session. If I end up getting blamed for this disaster it’s going to be really unfair. History will record that Makri the Orcish saboteur deliberately ruined things, thereby ensuring the final catastrophic defeat of the West.’
‘You’re worrying about that too much.’
‘I’m not.’
Makri follows me to my wagon where Droo, Rinderan and Anumaris are standing around the campfire.
‘Droo, have you located any beer?’
‘No. Sorry. Everyone’s extra careful since rations went low.’
‘Rinderan?’
‘Sorry, Captain. I have no leads on beer.’
‘Dammit Rinderan, your family owns a brewery in the Southern Hills. I expected better of you.’ I glare at them. ‘As a security unit you’re a severe disappointment.’
‘We’ve been investigating things more important than beer,’ says Anumaris, testily.
‘I doubt it. What did you learn?’
‘Three days ago a Niojan Captain committed suicide. Captain Taijenius. He was found dead in his tent having apparently taken poison.’
This is a startling piece of news. ‘Suicide? A Niojan captain? Why didn’t anyone hear about it?’
‘They decided it was no one’s business, and kept it quiet,’ explains Anumaris.
‘Did you learn why he did it?’
‘No. The Niojan sorcerer I talked to didn’t have many details. I asked if he knew of any connection between this Captain Taijenius and Captain Istaros but he couldn’t tell me.’
I’m puzzled. ‘Why would anyone make it this far in the campaign and then decide to do away with themselves when we’re almost at Turai? I’ll need to find out more. Good work, everyone.’
I dismiss my unit. They head towards to campfire to prepare food.
‘They seem to be good at investigating,’ says Makri.
‘They’re getting better. I’ve knocked them into shape. Time for me to get to work. Care to accompany me?’
Makri shakes her head. ‘I should be with Arichdamis.’
‘You can spare a few minutes. It won’t take long.’
‘No, I’d better get going.’
‘Come with me. The change will do you good. Clear your mind.’
‘Ha!’ says Makri, quite incongruously. ‘You want me to come along because you always investigate better when I’m involved.’ She looks pleased with herself.
‘Nonsense. I investigated fine before you arrived.’
‘You’re floundering. You always flounder when I’m not around.’
‘That’s the most foolish idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve had a lot of foolish ideas. Now come on, let’s visit Major Stranachus.’
Makri follows along, looking smug. In truth, it has struck me that these days I am used to having Makri around during my investigations. Maybe I’ve been missing her during this one. Not that I’m about to admit anything of the sort to her.
‘Really, you should have been paying me all along,’ says Makri. ‘Probably owe me about three year’s wages.’
‘Paying you? Without me looking after you, you’d have been thrown from the walls of Turai by an outraged citizenry. I just want you along because you’ll annoy the Niojans.’
Even though the Niojans have become used to me, their perimeter guards still baulk at the sight of Makri. They question us about my business and show signs of refusing to let us proceed till I remind them of my rank. ‘Head of our War Leader’s personal security unit. Step aside or I’ll have you arrested for interfering with the war effort.’
They let us through, glowering at Makri. We walk through their encampment. Everything is still tidy, all their troops smartly dressed, all in good order. How or why it is the Niojans maintain such discipline, I can’t say. A product of their religious enthusiasm? Perhaps, though I’ve never noticed religious enthusiasm in Turai affect the behaviour of our corrupt bishops and pontifexes. Major Stranachus is sitting outside his tent, polishing his boots.
‘Captain Thraxas? What can I do for you?’
‘I want to know more about the suicide of Captain Taijenius.’
The major glances uncertainly at Makri, uneasy at her presence. ‘I don’t really know the details.’
‘Was he a friend of Captain Istaros?’
‘I’ve no idea. What does this have to do with–’
‘Was there an investigation after he was found dead?’
‘What sort of investigation would there be? He committed suicide. He left a note.’
‘In Turai, we don’t just believe any old note. Was there anything suspicious about the death?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Were you involved in the investigation? Or non-investigation?’
‘No, I wasn’t. Captain Thraxas, I really don’t see what that incident has to do with our present problems, the murder of Captain Istaros. Or the possible murder of Legate Apiroi.’
We stare at each other. Stranachus is trying to wrestle back control of the conversation by mentioning Legate Apiroi, knowing quite well that I also suspect Lisutaris and Hanama of being responsible for his death.
‘I’d like to talk to someone who can tell me more about the suicide. Preferably not a Niojan officer with a well-prepared story.’
If not quite outraged, Major Stranachus is no longer polite. ‘The suicide falls outside your remit, Captain Thraxas.’
‘Nothing falls outside my remit. Point me in the direction of someone I can talk to.’
‘Captain Taijenius had a younger brother,’ says Stranachus, curtly. ‘You’ll find him with the fourth infantry on the west side of the camp.’
I walk through the Niojan camp with Makri. ‘You finally managed to annoy Major Stranachus,’ she says. ‘And he was so polite before. Does this suicide have any real relevance?’
‘Who knows? If Taijenius knew Captain Istaros, it might. Anyway, it’s time we dug up some dirt on the Niojans, they’ve been digging up plenty on us. I’m still worried one of their sorcerers might disobey Lisutaris’s orders and try looking back in time to the murder of Legate Apiroi.’
‘Lisutaris is War Leader and Head of the Sorcerers Guild. Surely no sorcerer would risk disobeying her?’
‘You can’t trust the Niojans. They’re almost as bad as the Simnians.’
We walk on through the camp.
‘Is there any foreign population you don’t object to? asks Makri. ‘The Samsarinans perhaps?’
‘Samsarinans are as bad as everyone else. You saw what they were like when we were there.’
‘The Southern Hills?’
‘Barely civilised.’
‘The peoples of the furthest west?’
‘Barbarians, all of them.’
‘The far north?’
‘Even worse barbarians. Gurd’s the only decent man ever to come out of the north, and even he has problems. I tell you Makri, you got lucky when you ended up in Turai. The rest of the continent is full of ignorance and savagery. I’d let the Orcs conquer them all if it didn’t mean Turai would suffer too.’
‘You don’t even like Turai. You’re always complaining about it.’
‘It’s gone downhill in recent years. Here’s the fourth infantry encampment. Time to find Taijenius’s brother.’
Having located the Niojan Fourth Infantry, it doesn’t take long to find Taijenius’s brother. The first officer we encounter looks surprised to find a Turanian Captain in his ranks but he talks to me politely enough.
‘The brother of Taijenius? You mean Arkius? Two rows down, third tent on the left.
Apparently Bishop-General Ritari’s words have had an effect. The Niojans ar
e finally co-operating. Or so it would seem till we meet Arkius, a surly young man, not quite as smartly turned out as his fellow Niojans. His tunic is unbuttoned, his boots are scuffed and he has the appearance of a man who’s been drinking in private, enough for me to recognise the symptoms. He’s sitting on a small folding chair in front of his tent and doesn’t get up to greet us.
‘We’re here about your brother.’
‘If Colonel Orisius sent you to convince me he committed suicide, forget it. I’m not listening to any more of his nonsense.’
I take seat beside him, uninvited. I pull out the slender silver flask I have hidden inside my tunic, the remains of my precious supply of klee. ‘Tell me why your brother didn’t commit suicide.’
He thinks about refusing the klee, decides against it, and takes a swig. ‘He didn’t kill himself. Taijenius would never have done that.’
‘I believe you,’ I say, and encourage him to take another drink. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘Someone poisoned him. They faked his suicide.’
I’m dubious, though I don’t let it show. It’s not that easy to fake a suicide. ‘He left a note. What did it say?’
‘Some nonsense about being dishonoured because he couldn’t pay a gambling debt. My brother never gambled in his life.’
‘Was it his handwriting?’
Arkius glowers at me. ‘It looked like it. But that doesn’t prove anything. Someone could have forged it. Colonel Orisius accepted it as real because he wanted the affair to end as quickly as possible. It was humiliating to have one of his officers commit suicide. He didn’t care about finding out the truth.’
‘Did your brother ever express any sort of suicidal thoughts?’
‘No!’
‘Are you sure? ‘
Arkius leaps to his feat eyes blazing. ‘My brother did not commit suicide! If you say it again I’ll kill you!’
I remain seated. ‘Tell me more about him. Did he know Captain Istaros?’
‘They worked together. They were both in some special unit for Bishop-General Ritari. Protecting him from danger, he said.’
