Thraxas and the Ice Dragon t-9
Page 21
«That was quite an experience,» gasps Lisutaris.
«It was,» I reply. «Makri, are you seriously injured?»
Makri removes her helmet. Blood drips from her mouth and her nose, and she has two black eyes.
«I'm all right,» she says. «Did I win?»
«Yes. The Marshal called lethal stroke before he fled the field.»
A young messenger in royal livery appears at a run. «Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky,» he says. «The King would like to see you immediately.»
«I must attend to my bodyguard first,» replies Lisutaris.
«The King said immediately.»
«Tell the King I'll be along immediately after I've attended to Makri.»
The messenger shrugs, and departs briskly. Lisutaris produces a lace handkerchief from inside her cloak and dabs some of the blood from Makri's face.
«I'm all right,» says Makri. «Don't worry about it.»
«I'll just transfer some minor healing into you. I don't have much power left.» Lisutaris places her hand on Makri's forehead. Nothing happens. The Sorceress frowns. «I don't have any power left. Do you want to go home? I can send you in my carriage.»
Makri refuses. She wants to accompany Lisutaris. I pick up Makri's personal belongings and the three of us trudge wearily across the field. A distraught collection of Samsarinan Sorcerers are standing round the body of their dead leader.
«I could do with some healing too, when you get your power back,» I tell Lisutaris. «I took a lot of painful blows during that contest.»
«Thraxas, I'm sure you've got enough pies inside you to make a swift recovery.»
«Is that all the thanks I get for putting my life on the line to protect you and Makri?»
Lisutaris comes to a halt. «One moment,» she says. «How did the young dragon get free?»
Makri immediately looks guilty.
«Perhaps Lasat's spells weren't any good,» I suggest.
«Lasat's spells were fine,» says Lisutaris. «I checked them.»
«Well, in that case it's a mystery.»
Lisutaris reaches over to place her hand on the scabbard of Makri's black Orcish sword. «This weapon has been used against sorcery. Recently.»
«I freed the dragon,» admits Makri. «Sorry.»
«It did work out well in the end,» I say.
Lisutaris shakes her head. «Let's hope the King doesn't find out.»
We have to pass through thick lines of soldiers, still guarding their monarch in case the dragon returns. The King is surrounded by his officials and a collection of Barons. Unusually, he seems ready to speak for himself. «That did not go as expected, Mistress of the Sky. Some of my advisers wonder if the interference from the dragons should nullify the contest.» The King pauses, then raises his voice. «I have over-ruled them. The appearance of such a beast should focus our minds on the dangers we'll be facing soon. The West needs an experienced War Leader and I will now support Lisutaris for that position.»
Lisutaris thanks the King, in the gracious, courtly manner she's capable of, even when severely fatigued.
«Do you know how the young dragon came to escape from its sorcerous cage?»
Makri blushes, though with her black eyes and blood-stained mouth it's not that easy to spot. Lisutaris doesn't know how to answer. It's time for me to step up. «Lasat's spells were quite deficient,» I say. «I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen. It's unfortunate it ended up costing him his life, but the whole thing could have been much worse had Lisutaris not driven the dragons away so quickly.»
Lisutaris looks startled. «I didn't» -
«It was good work from the Mistress of the Sky,» I continue. «Saved many lives. She'll be a great War Leader. Incidentally, your Highness, if I may be permitted to ask a question — some graceless elements have been casting doubts on Makri's victory. I was wondering if there might be an official announcement about the winner?»
The King nods his head. «Makri was clearly the winner. It will be officially declared.»
The meeting comes to an end. We walk back across the field, heading for Lisutaris's carriage.
«I didn't chase off the dragons,» says Lisutaris.
«There's no harm in giving your reputation a boost.» I yawn. «When I get home I'm going to send a servant out for food then I'm going to sleep for a week.»
«You said you'd visit Baroness Demelzos in the morning,» says Makri.
«Oh dammit. And I meant to visit the Record House before that.»
We clamber into the carriage. «I could really do with some of that healing energy,» I tell Lisutaris. But the Sorcerer is already rolling herself a thazis stick, which won't help her recover her powers any faster. I'll have to rely on sleep and a few beers to get by.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I wake early the next morning. My body aches. I feel old and battered. I'm debating whether or not to go back to sleep when Makri pokes her head into my room.
«Are we going investigating?»
«Why are you up so early?»
Makri shrugs. «I'm feeling better.»
«I'm not.» I haul myself out of bed, and glare at Makri. She ask me what I'm looking annoyed about.
«You. When I won the tournament I celebrated for a week. It would have been longer if me and Demmy the barmaid hadn't been arrested for indecency in the fountain. But here you are, sober and healthy. You even went to bed early. It's not right.»
«I didn't feel much like celebrating.»
I scramble around collecting my boots and sword. I ask Makri if she'll grab some food from the kitchen or cellar while I get ready. I suppose it's as well that Makri is sober. I need her help today. But it goes against the grain that she didn't celebrate. Anyone else would have.
«I have something for you before we go,» says Makri.
«What?»
She hands me a bright new Elvish sword. «This was part of my prize for winning the tournament. I have two good swords already, so you can have it.»
I take the sword. It's a valuable item, and a much better weapon than my current blade. It's a very fine gift. I look at Makri. I have no idea how to thank her properly. I feel awkward, and lost for words. Perhaps her strategy of bursting into tears and running out the room isn't such a bad idea.
«Let's go,» says Makri.
Outside I commandeer Lisutaris's carriage. «We need to hurry. Demelzos's son is due to get married later today. I'd like to solve this before that happens.»
«Is there any chance of that?» asks Makri. «I didn't know you were close.»
«I've got a good idea what's going on. Demelzos's daughter Merlione is interfering with her son's inheritance in some way. I don't know how, but she is.»
Makri looks puzzled. «How do you know that?»
«Nothing else fits. Merlione's brother's getting married into Baron Vosanos's family, and he's taking a chunk of money with him. Vosanos needs that money badly. Somehow Merlione's spoiling things. That's what her friend Alceten discovered. That's why she was killed, and that's why someone's been trying to kill Merlione.»
«I suppose it would make sense,» says Makri. «But aren't you just guessing?»
«No. I'm sure. More so since I learned that Zinlantol at the Royal Record House is a cousin of Magranos, Baron Vosanos's Chief Steward.»
We share some bread on the way. Makri hands me a bottle she brought from the kitchen. I take a drink.
«Water?»
«What did you expect for breakfast?»
I shake my head in disgust. When we arrive at the Record House I leave the carriage outside and march past the guards without looking at them. Inside the Record House, Zinlantol is sitting behind her desk, as always. When I approach, she regards me with loathing. A lot of people have done that recently.
«Did you pass information about Alceten's work to your cousin Magranos?»
«I have nothing to say to you!» says Zinlantol. She stands up quickly and disappears through the door behind her, into some private
staff area.
«I'd say she was,» I mutter to Makri, as we make our way upstairs. «She was already getting rid of evidence about the Baron's debts, destroying the papers. When she learned that Alceten had discovered something that was going to cost Baron Vosanos a lot of money, she passed that on to her cousin too.»
Upstairs, the corner where Alceten was working is still surrounded by books and scrolls, many of which I haven't even opened yet. I pick up the large book of Samsarinan Commercial Law and hand it to Makri.
«This is the book that was out of place. Alceten might have been reading it before she was killed. Go through it and see if there's anything relevant. I'll make a start on the scrolls.»
«How long do we have?»
«About three hours.»
«I can't get through this in three hours.»
«Do your best.»
We sit down and read. As soon as I pick up a scroll I start to remember how much I ache. These Samsarinan Sorcerers really gave me a battering. I glance through the scroll, find nothing relevant, throw it to one side and pick up another. The Law of Tort regarding Interference to Property Rights with Regard to Trespass by Hostile Orcs. I shake my head. Already my eyes are starting to swim. Can't these legal clerks make their writing a little bigger? I put the scroll to one side, being fairly sure that no Orcs have been interfering with local property. I notice Makri has gone off to the far end of the room, where she's hunting through cabinets. I pick up another scroll. It deals with property disputes between Barons and their subjects in times of famine. Again, it's so densely written I can barely read it. I struggle on for as long as I can, then shake my head in despair. I'm beaten. If there's some legal secret here, we're not going to find it.
«Found it,» says Makri.
«What?»
«Alceten made a note in the third appendix of the law book. It referred to another book from three centuries ago. I've just read the relevant part.»
«And?»
«It referred me to another legal tract. I found that too.»
«Are you ever going to come to the point?»
«Listen.» Makri reads from a very old scroll. «In memory of Queen Eferinis, who first discovered queenstone, and arrayed her daughters splendidly in jewels, all queenstone will pass from mother to daughter, and be inherited in the female line.»
I take the scroll from Makri. «This was drafted by King Moslos. He reigned about six hundred years ago. Could it still be current?»
«I suppose so, if it was never repealed. Everyone must have forgotten about it till Alceten came across it.»
«Alceten discovered that Merlione should inherit her mother's Queenstone mines.» I produce a magic purse from my tunic pocket.
«Where did you get that?» asks Makri.
«I borrowed it from Lisutaris while she was still sleeping. Let's go. We have to stop a wedding.»
We smuggle the relevant documents out of the Record House using the magic pocket, then ride swiftly towards Baroness Demelzos's mansion. Outside the mansion are numerous carriages, ready to carry the family to the wedding.
«Have you ever destroyed a wedding before?» asks Makri.
«Once or twice. It never goes down well.»
A servant at the gate tries to get in our way. I brush him aside. «Thraxas of Turai, Chief Adviser to Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky. Here as guest of Baroness Demelzos.»
Inside, the house is in the sort of uproar you'd expect when the eldest son of an important family is about to get married. Though neither I nor Makri look like wedding guests, everyone is too busy with their own problems to pay us much attention. I lead Makri upstairs to the Baroness's reception rooms. I burst in to find the Baroness having her hair done by two servants.
«Thraxas! How dare you burst in when» -
«Sorry Baroness. I have important news.» I look pointedly at the servants. The Baroness dismisses them with a nod of her head.
«Well?»
«Someone from Baron Vosanos's household has been trying to kill Merlione. Whether it's the Baron himself, or his steward, I don't know. But they're responsible.» I take the scroll from the magic purse. «By ancient law, Merlione inherits your queenstone mines, not your son. Baron Vosanos is bankrupt. He's depending on your son bringing wealth into his family. But your son will only be wealthy if Merlione is dead.» I hand the scroll to the Baroness.
«But this is so old,» she says.
«I think it's still legal. Alceten was killed because she discovered it. The Baron knew all about her work because his Chief Steward has a cousin in the Record House. She was keeping him up to date with Alceten's research.»
«I really can't believe Baron Vosanos would try to kill my daughter.»
«I don't know if he's directly responsible. More likely he just asked his Steward Magranos to deal with the problem. Magranos is capable of arranging a murder. He tried to arrange mine. If your son marries into that family, I don't think your daughter will ever be safe.»
Baroness Demelzos calls for her servants and asks them if her husband has left the house yet. Part of his role in the wedding is to escort his son to the church. They tell her he's almost on the point of setting off.
«Wait here,» the Baroness says, then hurries off. Makri and I are left alone in the reception room. I pour myself a glass of wine.
«What now?» says Makri.
«Either the Baron believes me and cancels the wedding, or he decides I'm a liar and throws me out. Either way, I've done all I can.»
Makri reaches for the decanter, and winces with pain. She can still feel the effects of the fight, even if she's pretending she can't. We sip wine from silver goblets, waiting for the Baroness to return. After almost an hour, we're still waiting.
«Is she coming back?»
«Doesn't look like it.» I rise from my chair. «Let's go home.»
I ask a servant outside to tell Baroness Demelzos that we've departed. The house is still bustling with activity, but I can sense apprehension among the scurrying servants and tradesmen. They know something's wrong. Makri takes the reigns as we drive home. We pass a squadron of heavily armed troops who've just arrive in Elath. From Hadassa in the South, I think, judging by their armour. Many more troops should be arriving soon.
«Enormous human!»
«Did someone just shout enormous human?» asks Makri.
«I think so.»
«They must be referring to you.» Makri halts the carriage and we look around. Running towards us with a great grin on her face is a slender young Elf with spiky yellow hair and a broad grin. I recognise her. It's Sendroo, from the Elvish Isle of Avula.
«Hello Thraxas! Hello Makri!»
«Droo? What are you doing here?»
«I sailed up with the advance party. I'm a messenger in the Elvish Reconnoissance Regiment!»
«You are?» Last time I saw Droo, who's around eighteen I think, she was a poet, and quite an intoxicated one at that. I wasn't expecting her to pop up in Samsarina, dressed in the dull-green tunic and leggings of an Elvish Scout. You meet all sorts of unexpected people in wartime.
«Yes! Isn't it fun? What are you doing here?»
«We're refugees from Turai,» I tell her.
«But we're going back,» says Makri.
«It's so good to see you again! I can't really talk now, my platoon is marching up to see the King. Tell me where you live and I'll come and visit!»
Makri smiles at Droo. «It will be good to see you.»
We give Droo our address. She runs off up the street after her platoon, still grinning. She's carrying a bow on her back, and a sheaf full of arrows. I shake my head. I'm not sure that having Droo in the Elvish advance party fills me with confidence. At least it means the Elvish troops are on their way.
When we arrive back at Arichdamis's house, Lisutaris is stepping out of an unfamiliar carriage. As soon as she sees us she scowls and yells at us. «What's the idea of stealing my carriage?»
«We needed it,» I say. «I had to see Baroness D
emelzos in a hurry.»
«Does this have anything to do with the wedding being cancelled?»
«It was cancelled?»
«Yes. I and about four hundred of the Samsarinan aristocracy were left waiting in church like a bunch of idiots, till Baron Mabados finally arrived and announced the wedding couldn't go ahead due to family illness. A very sudden attack, apparently. I presume that's not the real reason?»
«No. I'll tell you about it inside.»
A little later, while relating the string of brilliant deductions and unrelenting hard work that led to me solving the case, I can't help noticing that Lisutaris seems distracted. I ask her what's the matter.
«Kublinos. He's arriving soon to take me to dinner. I don't want to go.»
«You're not relying on him for money any more,» I point out. I take out Lisutaris's magic purse, ignore her protests about me borrowing it without asking, and pour 31,500 gurans onto the table. It's a hefty pile of cash, even though some of it is made up of 1,000 guran gold bars.
«We actually ended up with 34,582,» I tell them. «But I paid back the Baroness the three hundred she staked us. I offered her a bigger cut, but she wouldn't take it. I'm giving Arichdamis 282 gurans to make up for the damage to his cellars. And I gave 2,500 gurans to the local Saint Quatinius's hospital for the poor. When we were on that boat, I did promise I'd donate something if we made it back to shore.»
I'm expecting some complaints about this, particularly from the heathen Makri, but none are forthcoming. Makri and Lisutaris seem content that I've made the donation. We have had a lot of luck recently; perhaps some saint has been looking after us.
«So that gives us 10,500 gurans each. No need to thank me for my brilliant betting campaign. Though it does strike me you won't be collecting your winnings from Lasat, which is unfortunate.»