Thraxas of Turai

by Martin Scott

  ‘Has she?’

  ‘I thought so, last time I encountered her. She didn’t seem quite herself. I wasn’t sure she even recognised me.’

  Droo chimes in. ‘I noticed Makri was acting weird too. I thought maybe she was jealous that Thraxas got together with Sareepa.’

  I glare at the young Elf. ‘Ensign Sendroo. Please never advance any theory again.’

  ‘Why not? Maybe she was jealous. She’s always hanging round with you. She followed you all the way to the Elvish Isles.’

  I shake my head and grunt, unable to come up with a reply withering enough. ‘If Makri’s acting strangely it’s because she’s under pressure from her work with Arichdamis. The mathematics is very advanced.’

  ‘I’m not good at mathematics,’ declares Droo. ‘Once on Avula I entered my poems in the junior competition for eight-line elegies. But it turned out I counted wrong. My poems only had seven lines.’ She looks thoughtful. ‘Of course, I had been drinking a lot of wine.’

  ‘You can’t count to eight?’ Anumaris sounds incredulous.

  ‘I can! Except I got it wrong that time, for some reason.’

  ‘Did your poems have titles?’ asks Rinderan.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Perhaps you miscalculated by including the title in the line count. I could see that happening if you’d been drinking.’

  Droo’s face lights up. ‘That must have been what happened! Thanks Rinderan.’

  ‘Could we get back to the subject in hand?’ I say, loudly. ‘Anumaris, look after things here. I need to talk to Lisutaris. If anyone comes here asking questions, deny all knowledge of anything. Understand?’

  ‘I’m not very good at lying,’ mutters Anumaris.

  ‘Just follow my example.’

  ‘I can feel my morals decaying.’

  I pass her the wine. ‘Drink some of this. You’ll get used to it.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  The army is camped outside Turai. The bulk of our forces stretches in a semi-circle around the western half of the city. Further east, small units of mounted scouts are scouring the region, ready to warn us of any sign of Orcish reinforcements coming this way over the Wastelands. It’s an unusual start to hostilities. Normally when battle commences I’d be charging towards the enemy in the middle of a phalanx of spear-carrying warriors. If those enemies happened to be behind enemy walls, I’d be charging towards them with a ladder in my hand. The siege of Turai starts with a collection of disparate, ill-matched figures standing in the midst of the strange light produced by the coming together of the sorcerous fields produced by the western sorcerers around us and the Orcish sorcerers inside the city. Turai is covered by a faint orange glow, the Orcish defensive shield. The land outside is covered by a faint blue glow, our own magic shield. Where these meet, the air turns a dull purple colour. So far there’s been no attempt by either side to pierce the other’s protection. Any such attempt would lead to stalemate if the calculations of Dearineth the Precise Measurer are to be believed.

  Here, at the very edge of our protected territory, the digging is about to begin. Arichdamis is talking to the miners’ overseer, Major Erisimus from the Simnian military engineering unit. He’s an experienced engineer, so I’m told. He looks the part, rugged, weather-beaten, strong and broad; a man who’s done a lot of practical work in the field. Not that I have that much confidence in any Simnian, experienced or not. Arichdamis is meticulously pointing out details in his plans. The zigzagging trench has to be dug exactly right, inch-perfect in each direction. Each angled turn needs to be precise. Beside them stand Lisutaris and her senior commanders, accompanied by a strong unit from the Sorcerers Auxiliary Regiment. Nearby are several other sorcerers whose task will be to send the sorcery down the trench. Lezunda Blue Glow stands behind Arichdamis, looking relaxed. Next to them is Makri, carrying a scroll and looking uneasy.

  Coranius the Grinder is close to Lisutaris. I wonder if he remembers the Samsarinan High Priestess’s oracle? ‘Glorious ending,’ she told him. That didn’t sound to me like the greatest prophesy a man could have. Depends when it comes, I suppose. Could be years away. Or it could be soon. The tall walls of Turai look ominous. I’m not convinced we’re going to make it inside without heavy casualties. Dearineth the Precise Measurer may believe we’ve enough sorcerous power to hold off the Orcs off but we’ve underestimated their power before. Deeziz the Unseen has outsmarted us.

  Some way away from the crowd, Tirini Snake Smiter looks bored. She’s here adding her power to the defence of Lisutaris. While I’ve come to accept she actually is powerful, I’ve never seen her in full-scale battle. I can’t imagine it. I don’t even know if she’s an official member of the Sorcerers Regiment. I’ve never seen her wear any sort of uniform or insignia, or show the slightest regard for military protocol. In contrast to Tirini, Sareepa Lightning Strikes the Mountain stands alert in the company of six sorcerers from Mattesh; her guild are part of the trench squadron. If we succeed in undermining the walls, they’ll be among those leading our troops into the city.

  I gaze over at Turai. The western wall is tall enough to hide most of the buildings beyond, with the exception of the palace, towards the northern edge. Several familiar towers are no longer there, destroyed when the city fell. How much additional destruction there’s been is impossible to say. Are the gleaming, white marble Law Courts around Golden Crescent still there? What about Lisutaris’s beautiful mansion in Truth is Beauty Lane, where all the best sorcerers live? I notice Gurd looking at the walls too, and I know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering if his beloved tavern, the Avenging Axe, still stands. If it does, it will be occupied by Orcs. I clap him on the shoulder.

  ‘Don’t worry Gurd, we’ll get rid of them.’

  ‘I hate to think what they might have done to my tavern.’

  ‘Probably won’t have caused any more destruction than I did.’

  Gurd nods. ‘True. You were always breaking something.’

  An odd noise makes us look up. A clattering sound. Arrows launched from the walls of the city have struck our sorcerous barrier. The barrier deflects them easily enough.

  ‘Catapult!’ shouts an officer. We watch as a large stone ball hurls through the air towards us. Normally I’d be scrambling for cover and so would everybody else. Not wishing to show a lack of confidence in the power of Lisutaris and her fellow sorcerers, we all stand there watching as the huge lump of stone flies towards us. It gets disturbingly close before hitting our barrier and disintegrating. Lisutaris nods. ‘Begin the dig.’

  Major Erisimus motions to his men. They set to work, breaking the first clods of earth from the trench that will take us to the walls of Turai. As all eyes turn to the start of the operation, I manage to get close enough to Lisutaris to whisper in her ear. ‘Some investigating I need to tell you about.’ Lisutaris allows herself to be drawn back a little way from the crowd. I bring her up to date on the state of operations, still keeping my voice down. ‘I think Captain Istaros was killed as part of a feud between Archbishop Gudurius and Bishop-General Ritari.’

  ‘Who was behind it?’

  ‘Probably the Archbishop.’

  ‘Good,’ mutters Lisutaris. ‘If you get evidence he murdered the King’s nephew I can threaten to blackmail him if he looks like causing us trouble.’

  ‘I’ll do my best. It’s not all good news. The Niojan investigator says he’s got a witness that Hanama was close to Legate Apiroi when he was killed, which is suspicious. And some Samsarinan priest claims he saw Makri close to Major Magranos just before he was murdered.’

  ‘Do whatever is necessary to clear their names.’

  ‘Like what? Murder the witnesses?’

  ‘Would that be possible?’

  ‘No! I wasn’t serious. I’ve never murdered a witness. Bribed some, on occasion.’ I halt. ‘That might be possible. Do you still have all the gold we won in Samsarina?’

  Lisutaris produces a small purse from ins
ide her cloak, a magic pocket, capable of holding almost anything. ‘Still in here, most of it. I had to spend some on hospitality for senior officers.’

  ‘Hospitality for senior officers? I take it that came from your share?’

  ‘I hadn’t really considered it. But no doubt you, Captain Thraxas, would be keen to do your part in securing our military alliances?’

  I hope our commander is joking. She might be. She becomes serious again. ‘I must get back to the trench. Do what you can to keep all this quiet. I’m relying on you.’

  Lisutaris leaves, walking briskly towards the trench where the earth is piling up as the diggers continue their work. Arichdamis is talking to Coranius the Grinder, giving him instructions for the first spells that have to be cast for protection. Sareepa and her fellow sorcerers listen on. Lezunda Blue Glow is beside them but Makri hangs back a few paces, eyeing proceedings with distaste.

  ‘The more I see of this, the more I like the idea of charging the walls with ladders.’

  ‘Still struggling with the mathematics?’

  ‘Arichdamis could be bouncing the sorcery off all three moons for all I know.’

  ‘Does it matter that the sorcerers who’re casting the spells don’t understand it?’

  Makri doesn’t think so. ‘Arichdamis tells them where to point their sorcery and they follow his instructions.’

  Piles of earth are being removed from the trench and loaded onto small trolleys to be wheeled away. Nearby on the ground is the portable wooden roof that will slide along on top of the trench, protecting the diggers.

  ‘Do you need me to investigate anything?’ asks Makri.

  ‘That depends. I’m going to talk to the person who says he saw you close to where Magranos was murdered. Feel like joining in with that?’

  Makri’s hand edges towards her sword. ‘He’s lying. I’ll kill him if he says it again.’

  ‘Probably best you don’t come with me. Maybe you can help me afterwards, when I talk to the person who saw Hanama close to the place Legate Apiroi was killed.’

  ‘Are you making this up to annoy me?’

  ‘No. Actual witnesses can implicate both you and Hanama in murder.’

  ‘Wasn’t that what you were meant to be preventing? I’m sure I head Lisutaris say that.’

  ‘Mainly I was meant to be preventing scandal over the murder of Captain Istaros. Keeping the Niojans happy.’

  ‘How’s that going?’

  ‘So far I haven’t started a war. It might still come to that.’ I draw a silver flask from my tunic and sip from my klee. Risky, with Lisutaris in the vicinity, but I don’t feel like caring. Makri looks at me keenly. That probably means she’s going to say something I don’t want to hear.

  ‘What’s the matter Thraxas? You’ve got that same look you have when you lose at the race track. Have you been gambling?’

  ‘I wish I’d been gambling. The war’s closed all the stadiums.’

  ‘Then what’s wrong?’

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. I’m meant to be clearing Hanama’s name even though she’s probably guilty…’

  ‘You’ve done that before.’

  It’s true. I have. Once someone becomes my client I stick with them. I’ve got people off when they were guilty as hell.

  ‘Is it because you don’t like Hanama?’

  ‘No, I don’t much care about that. I’ve had plenty of clients I don’t like. It’s just…’ I take another sip of klee. It’s poor quality. Barely warms the throat. ‘You remember, not long after you came to Turai, I had that case with Grosex? Apprentice to Drantaax the sculptor?’

  Makri nods. ‘I remember. I got a crossbow bolt in the chest.’

  ‘Grosex came to me for help after he was accused of killing his boss. It was a confusing case, with the gold, and the warrior monks, and Sarin the Merciless. So confusing I might have been able to get him off.’ I take another sip of klee. ‘But I didn’t. I let him be hanged.’

  ‘He was guilty. He killed Drantaax.’

  ‘I know. But he was my client. Sort of. I remember there was some confusion over whether he’d paid my retainer or not. The fact remains, I could have helped him go free instead of allowing the Guards to convict him. I feel bad about that.’

  ‘Why? And why now?’

  I shrug. I can’t explain it properly. ‘Just feels odd. Now here I am, trying to get Hanama off, when she killed Apiroi.’

  ‘Hanama was only following orders.’

  ‘I know. I intend to protect her if I can. I’m just wondering why I didn’t do it for Grosex. I don’t think I ever gave up on a client any other time. What was special about him? He deserved to hang? Plenty of people deserve to hang. Usually if they’re my clients I protect them anyway.’

  The conversation isn’t making my gloom disappear. ‘I don’t know why I decided Grosex was different.’

  ‘You were angry because I got shot by a crossbow.’

  That’s true. Makri very nearly died. She would have, without unexpected help from the dolphins in the harbour and their healing stone.

  ‘I really don’t think you’ve anything to feel bad about, Thraxas. All the time I’ve been in Turai you’ve helped people. Poor people who couldn’t get help anywhere else. Plenty of them would have been hanged if you hadn’t helped.’

  ‘That doesn’t help Grosex.’

  ‘It was a confusing case. I’m sure Drantaax’s wife was pleased when Grosex was executed. She’d say it was justice.’

  ‘She and everyone else involved were all out for themselves. I don’t even know what justice would have been.’

  Makri takes a sip from my klee. ‘You’re right, this is poor. Hardly burns at all. Thraxas, I doubt you can be consistent all the time. I always thought Grosex deserved to hang. I still do. If you have doubts, well that will happen in a place like Turai. It’s corrupt. Half of your cases involve people who’ve got themselves into trouble by acting badly. You do the best you can and sometimes it won’t work. Sometimes you’ll do things and then later you might think you got it wrong. You can’t help that. No one can. Not even professors of ethics, and I’ve heard professors of ethics talk about it.’

  ‘Do you ever have any doubts about killing people?’

  ‘What sort of doubts?’

  ‘That maybe they didn’t deserve to be killed?’

  Makri shakes her head. ‘No. Not yet.’

  There’s a long pause, punctuated by the sound of digging.

  ‘What are you going to do about the person who saw Hanama close to the Niojan lines?’

  ‘First, find out if he’s real. Stranachus might just be making it up to put pressure on us.’

  ‘What about the person who says I killed Magranos? Is he real?’

  ‘Yes, unfortunately. I’ll talk to him. See if there are any obvious flaws in his story.’

  ‘What if there aren’t?’

  ‘I’ll bribe him or threaten him.’

  ‘That’s more like it, Thraxas.’

  I let the subject drop. If it turns out Makri did kill Magranos, I’ll do my best to clear her name but I’m not going to forgive her for it.

  Half-way between Lisutaris’s command tent and the encampment of the Sorcerer’s Auxiliary Regiment, the dragon alarm sounds. I fumble in my pockets for my slate. Dragons are already pouring out of the sky. A large group are heading straight for Lisutaris’s command centre. The sky erupts as they attack the sorcerous shield and the sorcerers below use their powers to reinforce it.

  ‘I have to get back there,’ says Makri.

  ‘Why? How are you going to help?’

  Makri doesn’t reply because at that moment a dragon slams into the shielding above us and the shockwave sends us both tumbling.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be waving a slate?’ cries Makri.

  I clamber rapidly to my feet. Slate now firmly in hand, I hold it above me and yell at the dragon. ‘Tak
e that, beast!’ Sorcery flows into the slate as the power of our own army’s sorcerers takes effect. There’s a downwards bulge in the magic shield above, but as I brandish the slate, it rises back into position. ‘No dragon gets past Thraxas!’ I yell, pleased at my success. Unfortunately, at that moment, another dragon swoops to join my foe. It’s a strong, malevolent beast, with huge jaws and talons. Faced with two of the gigantic creatures, I start to wilt. Pain shoots through my wrist. I have a hard time staying upright. Both dragons batter at the sorcerous shield.

  ‘Damn you!’ I try to force the shield back upwards but I lack the strength. I crumple to the ground. The dragons continue their attack and the shielding above begins to buckle.

  ‘Get up and wave the slate!’ shouts Makri.

  ‘There should be sorcerers helping me!’

  Makri hauls me to my feet. She’s much stronger than she looks. ‘Hold the slate up!’

  ‘I know what to do!’ I hold up the slate with as much determination as I can muster. ‘Stay back! No one gets past–’ I get no further. Both dragons slam in to the shield simultaneously and I’m once more thrown to the ground, bruised and winded.

  ‘Thraxas! Get up! The shield’s going to break!’

  It’s no use. I can’t move. I’ve taken too many blows. No one could stand up to it. I lie immobile on the ground.

  ‘Give me the slate!’ yells Makri.

  ‘You can’t use it. It takes specialist knowledge.’

  ‘It’s only waving a rock in the air.’ Makri wrenches it from my hand. She stands upright and raises the slate high above her. For a moment or two, it looks like she’s succeeded in driving the dragons back. Both hesitate. The sorcerous shielding rises and looks more secure. It doesn’t last. Both dragons pound downwards again, snarling and breathing fire. They crash into the shield and the shock sends Makri crashing to the ground.

  I stumble to my feet. ‘I told you it wasn’t so easy.’ Prising the magic slate from Makri’s fingers I once more raise it in the air. By now the dragons are only inches above my outstretched arm. The sorcerous shield is warping and twisting beneath the assault, distorting the dragons’ shapes and making them even more terrifying. Outraged at everything, I draw my sword and brandish it right at their faces. ‘I’ll stab you with this!’