by Martin Scott
I stare at the major. There’s a lot of staring going on in this conversation. ‘Not as far as I know.’
He smiles, knowing I’m lying. It’s time to bring this conversation to an end before Stranachus embarrasses me further. Unable to think of any tactful way to get rid of the him, I ask him to leave. ‘I have work to get on with. I really can’t spare any more time. Thanks for your observations.’
The major nods politely. ‘Please let me know if you discover anything relevant.’ With that he departs, still affable. I’m starting to detest him. Major Stranachus and Niojan intelligence seem to know a lot about things I’d rather they didn’t. All of my security unit have been listening surreptitiously to our conversation, as I’d expect them to do. Anumaris asks me if I knew anything about Captain Istaros having some sort of trouble in Elath.
‘No. I didn’t even know he was there. I was too busy guiding Makri to victory in the swordfighting tournament.’
‘Why did Major Stranachus mention it?’
‘I’m wondering that too. It doesn’t seem to relate to anything here.’
‘Makri was at the tournament and now she’s a suspect for the murder of Major Magranos,’ says Anumaris. ‘Perhaps even Captain Istaros too.’
‘Why would she be suspected of that?’ asks Rinderan.
‘Getting rid of a witness, perhaps?’
Rinderan frowns. ‘Surely Ensign Makri wouldn’t kill a man for that? Would she?’ Rinderan looks at me. I decline to answer.
‘Was Captain Hanama in Elath?’ asks Anumaris.
‘No.’ I pause, thinking back. ‘At least, I don’t think so. She joined the army later, when we gathered outside the capital. I don’t know where she was before that.’
‘Does Captain Stranachus really suspect Captain Hanama of killing Legate Apiroi?’
‘He might. Or he might have no idea what’s been going on and is hoping he can just blame everything on Turanian assassins.
Rinderan drums his fingers on the side of the wagon. ‘This all seems to have become more complicated.’
‘That does tend to happen.’ I shake my head, wearily. ‘Our Commander wants this all to disappear without bothering her. With Major Stranachus poking around, that’s not likely. I never expected the Niojans to have a smart investigator. It’s annoying.’ I yawn. ‘I need to think. All three of you, talk to your contacts. Find out what happened to Captain Istaros in Elath. I want to know what trouble he was in.’
Chapter Nine
I finally mange to retreat to the wagon for a much needed rest. I’m slumbering peacefully when I’m abruptly awakened. I open my eyes to find Droo, Anumaris and Rinderan standing over me and a terrible cacophony blaring in the background. I have no idea what’s happening.
‘Captain, you have to get up!’
‘Why?’
‘Dragon attack!’
I shake my head to clear it. The noise in the background is the trumpets sounding the alarm.
‘Your slate!’ cries Anumaris.
‘My what?’
‘You have to take your position in the dragon shield.’
Cursing everything, particularly dragons, I haul myself upright and stumble from the wagon.
‘Good luck,’ says Anumaris. Having assured themselves that I’m awake and functioning, she and Rinderan depart briskly, heading for their allotted positions beneath the sorcerous dragon shied. The non-sorcerers who’ve been drafted in to help don’t have allotted positions. We’re just meant to stand in the open, holding up magic slates, while the sorcerers do the rest, relaying and amplifying their power through us. It’s bound to end in disaster. I turn to Droo. ‘This is bound to end in disaster.’
The sky is going dark with dragons, all diving towards the purple light which now covers our encampment in a great semi-circle overhead.
‘You’ll be fine,’ says Droo. With that she disappears under the wagon, sensibly getting herself out of the way. I take a few paces till I’m standing in open ground, then raise the small piece of slate into the air and mutter the incantation that will bring it to life. A slight vibration runs through my fingers as it links with the other sorcerous items, boosting their power. As I raise my head the dragons are starting to hurtle themselves into the barrier. Now we’re so close to Turai, Amrag has sent out a large force in an attempt to annihilate us. Flames crackle over the top of the shield as they attack. The sorcerous barrier repels the flames but as the huge beasts crash into it, the earth shakes. I can feel the force of their attack pummelling me from above. I knew this would happen. You can’t wave a magic slate at dragons without suffering the consequences. Not far from me, a man in a butcher’s apron, another hapless recruit to this foolish enterprise, buckles at the knees. As two huge dragons slam into the barrier directly overhead, he falls to the ground, still waving his slate but unable to rise. I stagger backwards under the pressure but manage to stay upright.
‘You’re doing well, Captain Thraxas,’ calls Droo encouragingly, from beneath the wagon. I can’t see any other slate bearers apart from me and the butcher. Nor can I see any sorcerers. By now they should be distributed evenly around our encampment but none of them have appeared in my vicinity. ‘Dammit, am I meant to do this all myself!’ I roar, and wave my slate defiantly at the sky. Another enormous dragon slams in the shield. The shock sends me to my knees, almost numbing my arm. I scramble back to my feet, shaking my other fist. ‘Come down here and try that! I’ll send you back where you came from!’
‘That’s the spirit!’ cries Droo. ‘Don’t give in.’
The unfortunate man in the butcher’s apron has now passed out. His slate lies beside him on the ground, no longer assisting our defences. The dragon overhead rises, shoots flames at the shield, then dives to attack again. As if sensing some weakening of the barrier, another great beast rushes to join it. I brace myself and hope that the sorcerous power currently being funnelled into my talisman is operating at full power, because if it’s not, I’m going to be buried under two large dragons. As they crash into the barrier the very air seems to bend. The shield is pushed downwards through the sky and the colour fades as if stretched and weakened. A shockwave travels from the slate down my frame. My legs buckle and I tumble to the ground.
‘Where are the sorcerers!’ I scream. ‘Cowards, all of them!’
The two dragons continue their attack and the sorcerous shield dips lower and lower, a depression that’s coming nearer and nearer. I can see the bestial rage on the dragons’ faces as they force their way towards me, hurtling themselves again and again against the obstruction. I’m unable to rise. I can barely hold my slate in the air. I’m going to die here, victim of the poor planning of our useless War Leader Lisutaris and her equally useless Sorcerers Regiment.
‘Captain Thraxas, that’s not the recommended position for sorcerous slate manipulation.’
I find myself grabbed by several pairs of hands and hauled upright. Four sorcerers in rainbow cloaks have arrived: Sareepa Lightning Strikes the Mountain and three of her Matteshan companions. Sareepa grins. ‘You’re not meant to roll around on the grass.’
‘Damn you sorcerers! Am I meant to fight them off on my own?’
Already Sareepa’s companions are pointing towards the sky. I watch as their power repels the creatures above, forcing the shield upwards. The downward bulge disappears and the barrier returns to its proper shape. Both dragons continue their attack but are unable to make an impression on the now-strengthened magical shield. As I watch, they begin to tire. Their great wings beat more slowly and fire no longer emerges from their mouths. For the first time I’m able to survey the whole sky overhead. Everywhere the same phenomenon can be seen. The fury of the attack is fading. Our sorcerers have held them off. I feel my own strength returning. I glare at Sareepa. ‘Nice work. Maybe next time you could help me before I’m battered half to death.’
Sareepa laughs, very inappropriately. ‘We had a lot to do elsewhere. Huge attack at our Commanders tent, took
a lot of power to repel it.’
‘You were protecting the most powerful sorcerer in the west? While hapless assistants were left on their own?’
Sareepa’s still smiling, apparently finding the whole thing amusing. ‘Of course. She’s much more important than you. Anyway, you survived, didn’t you? I knew you’d be fine, Thraxas.’
The butcher is slowly climbing to his feet, still looking dazed. One of the Matteshan sorcerers assists him, checking he’s all right and his slate is undamaged. Sareepa herself appears invigorated, as if she enjoyed the battle. Perhaps she did. She always was up for a fight. Overhead the dragons are spiralling upwards and heading east. The barrier glows brightly, still a strong protection.
‘Let’s go,’ Sareepa says to her sorcerers. ‘See if anyone else needs help. Some of these volunteers haven’t got Captain Thraxas’s strength.’
I glare at her, not sure if she’s being sarcastic or not. ‘Next time get here quicker.’
‘Stop complaining, Thraxas. I’ll bring you some beer tonight. Good Matteshan ale, better than your Turanian rubbish.’
I’m about to respond, defending the integrity of Turanian beer, but I’m too drained to come up with anything witty so I let it go. Sareepa Lightning Strikes the mountain strides off, leading her sorcerers away. I limp slowly back towards the wagon. Droo crawls out from underneath.
‘Do you have any–’
The young Elf hands me an open bottle of wine before I finish my sentence. I take a long drink. ‘Useless sorcerers. Letting me get battered like that while they all huddled in safety with Lisutaris.’
‘You did well,’ says Droo, brightly. ‘You hardly got thrown to the ground at all. Only a few times. Much better than that other man in the apron, he was hopeless.’
I nod. ‘He was. Of course, he didn’t have my experience. I still know a few things about sorcery. Takes intelligence to make it work. Strength as well. Not many men could have stood up to that onslaught. These were big dragons I was holding off. Lucky I was in position or we might be in a lot of trouble.’ I drink more wine. A wave of fatigue washes over me. I tell Ensign Droo I’m heading inside the wagon to rest, and instruct her to keep everyone away from me.
‘Will do. You’ll need some rest before your tryst.’
‘Tryst? What tryst?’
‘With Sareepa Lightning Strikes the Mountain.’
‘I don’t have a tryst with Sareepa.’
‘Yes you do,’ says Droo. ‘I heard her say she was coming over to visit you with beer.’
‘That’s not a tryst. That’s drinking beer.’
‘It sounded like an tryst to me.’
‘Trysts are secret meetings between lovers!’
‘Well, she didn’t know I was listening,’ says Droo.
I shake my head. ‘Stop being ridiculous. And stop saying tryst. It’s starting to make my head hurt.’ I depart into the wagon before I have to listen any more foolishness from Droo. Once inside, I lay down, rest my head on a bag for a pillow, and fall asleep, a sleep I’m entitled to after defending the armies of the west against such a major dragon attack. Not many men could have stood up to it, you can be certain of that.
Chapter Ten
I slumber peacefully before being wakened by raised voices outside the wagon.
‘What do you mean don’t wake him? We need to wake him.’ It’s Anumaris Thunderbolt.
Droo replies. ‘Captain Thraxas had a hard struggle against the dragons. They kept knocking him over. We should let him rest.’
‘Was he injured?’
‘Not seriously. But he didn’t look too good afterwards.’
‘We need to wake him,’ comes Rinderan’s voice. ‘We have to report.’
Droo refuses to be overruled. ‘Let him rest. He was really pummelled by these dragons. There were a lot of heavy blows.’
While I’m not pleased at Droo’s exaggeration of the pummelling I received, I do appreciate the positive report she’s giving of my performance. At least one member of my security unit respects me.
‘We were attacked too,’ says Anumaris. ‘But we’re back on duty now. I really think we should be reporting to our unit commander.’
‘Thraxas needs his sleep!’ insists Droo.
I’m warming to the young Elf more and more.
‘He has a tryst with Sareepa later so he’ll need to be well-rested.’
I find myself clutching my brow and wondering how I ended up in the same unit as the idiotic young Elf. This has gone far enough. I poke my head out of the wagon to find Anumaris and Rinderan regarding me with an unusual degree of interest.
‘Captain Thraxas…’ There’s an odd tone in Anumaris’s voice. ‘Sorry if we woke you. You should be…resting.’
I clamber out of the wagon. ‘I’m fine.’
‘We can come back later,’ says Rinderan. ‘Really, there’s no urgency. Droo tells us you need to rest because…’ His voice tails off, but his smile shows what he’s thinking.
I give Droo a hostile glance. ‘Would you stop telling people I’m having some sort of secret romance?’
‘A romance?’ exclaims Anumaris. ‘I didn’t realise it had gone that far.’
‘I congratulate you,’ says Rinderan. ‘Sareepa is a fine woman and a credit to the Matteshan Sorcerers Guild.’
My unit has apparently gone insane. It’s time to put a stop to this nonsense. ‘There is no romance. Ensign Sendroo is imagining things. Now make your report on the dragon attack and any associated problems.’
‘I didn’t say it was a romance,’ protests the young Elf. ‘Just a tryst.’ She looks thoughtful. ‘I suppose the romance would come later. Happens a lot in our epic poetry. I suppose it’s the danger and excitement of war.’
I give her the most hostile glare I can manage. ‘There is no tryst. And I told you to stop saying that word.’
‘Would assignation be better?’ Droo turns to Anumaris. ‘If people made a secret arrangement to drink beer at night would that be a tryst or an assignation?’
‘They seem to mean much the same thing.’ Anumaris turns to me. ‘Not that I would interfere, Captain Thraxas, but is this wise? We’ll be in battle any day now.’
‘That’s no reason to hold back,’ says Rinderan. ‘We could all be dead soon. If Captain Thraxas can obtain some happiness with Sareepa, I’d say he should grasp the opportunity.’
‘Will you all-‘
I’m interrupted by Droo. ‘Here’s Makri. She’s good with language. Makri, would you say a secret meeting with lovers and beer is a tryst or an assignation?’
Maki halts, a look of surprise on her face. ‘Which lovers are meeting in secret?’
‘Thraxas and Sareepa Lightning Strikes the Mountain.’
‘What? When did this happen?’
‘During the dragon attack,’ says Droo.
Makri looks at me. ‘Weren’t you mean to be repelling dragons?’
‘I was repelling dragons.’
‘Then how did you find time to arrange an assignation with Sareepa? You can’t have been doing much repelling.’
I raise my voice. ‘Everyone be quiet! Stop talking about trysts, assignations and romance. There is no tryst, assignation or romance. Sareepa simply mentioned she’d bring me some beer, a richly deserved reward for my heroic actions in the recent dragon attack.’ I glare at Makri. ‘During which I did plenty of repelling. And now, having cleared up a matter which was no concern of any of you in the first place, I intend to eat. Is that clear?’
Anumaris raises her eyebrows a fraction. ‘Yes, Captain. But we really do need to report to you.’
‘And I have an important matter to discuss,’ says Makri.
‘Fine. Report and discuss as you please. But no more talk of assignations.’
I walk towards the fire, the embers of which are still smouldering. Now that Lisutaris has banned all extraneous sorcery, it’s annoying and inconvenient if the fire goes out, requiring a
lot of messing around with tinder boxes to light it again. I eat the standard military meal with my unit. A small portion of salted beef, yams which are none too fresh, and the flat, sweetened oatcakes which are ubiquitous among the Turanian army. None of it terrible but none of it satisfying. I’ve eaten enough of these rations during my life to be used to them but I’ll be heading over to Tanrose’s campfire at the earliest opportunity to top up with better food. Anumaris and Rinderan tell us of their experiences during the dragon raid. Both used their sorcery to support the shield. Neither were injured and neither felt that the shield was about to break, though I can tell from their voices they have some doubts.
‘Don’t you think we can keep it up?’
‘Probably,’ says Anumaris.
‘Maybe,’ says Rinderan.
‘That’s not a resounding vote of confidence.’ I hunt around for more salted beef but there’s none. Army rations, they’re really not satisfying.
‘The shield did work well enough,’ says Rinderan. ‘But we were stretched thin. There were weak spots. We managed to cover them this time but some sorcerers are worried.’
‘Is this going to be a problem?’
‘I’m sure we can cope,’ says Anumaris.
Rinderan chuckles. ‘Anumaris isn’t going cast any doubts on Lisutaris. She’s too loyal.’
Anumaris doesn’t comment. I ask Rinderan to elaborate.
‘We’re only just managing to repel these dragons. The closer we get to Turai the more difficult it’s going to be. When we’re camped next to the city the Orcish sorcerers will be able to attack the barrier with all their power. With the dragons attacking too, it’s going to be difficult. That’s before we even start thinking about the trench. Protecting that is going to take a lot of power. The sorcerers providing that power won’t be able to help with the overhead barrier. I can see it going wrong.’
‘What about that calculating sorcerer, Dearineth the Precise Measurer? She said we had an advantage of two points in three hundred or something like that. Was she just making that up?’
Rinderan shrugs. ‘Dearineth has a good reputation. She’s specialised in measuring in a way no one’s done before. But two points in three hundred, in a calculation of sorcerous power? We’re not even certain how many Orcish sorcerers there are. And dragons interfere with sorcery, so I’m not even sure how Dearineth managed to include them in her measurements. I can see plenty of room for error. So can others, though they’re not going to come right out and say it. No one wants to appear disloyal to Lisutaris.’