Thraxas - The Complete Series

by Martin Scott

  “Look after this woman,” I instruct a group of household servants. “She’s been drinking too much and needs to sleep it off.”

  I am now completely fed up with everything. There seems to be no end in sight to this madness. There might be forty of these pendants scattered around here for all I know. I notice that some of the guests are now looking nervous as a new flock of centaurs stampede through a marquee and show less willingness to dematerialise, even when Makri threatens them with her swords. Lisutaris appears to quickly banish them by sorcery but it’s clear things are getting out of hand.

  “It bit me!” complains a woman loudly to Lisutaris.

  I need to know how many pendants there are. It’s time to threaten someone. I look around for the most senior household servant I can find.

  “I have to find Lisutaris’s secretary right now. What costume is she wearing?”

  “That would be a breach of etiquette, I’m afraid—”

  I offer him a bribe. He looks uninterested. I take him by the neck and push him against the wall, ignoring the consternation this causes among his fellow servants.

  “Spill it.”

  “She’s wearing a wood nymph’s costume with yellow flowers!”

  Now I’ve assaulted a princess and threatened Lisutaris’s staff. Not forgetting the spell I worked on Captain Rallee. The courts may have to invent some new sort of punishment to deal with my vast catalogue of crime.

  I start hunting the gardens for a wood nymph with yellow flowers. Makri spots me and hurries to my side.

  “Have you got all the jewels yet? No? You’d better hurry, things are getting out of hand. There are centaurs everywhere and they keep trying to chew my clothes off.”

  “Centaurs are like that. Any deaths?”

  “Maybe one or two. You want me to keep count for our bet?”

  “No, I was just wondering how things were going. But now you mention it, keep a count anyway. I’m looking for Avenaris. I figure she can tell me how many jewels there are.”

  “Lisutaris will be down on you like a bad spell if you bother her secretary.”

  “I already searched her rooms.”

  “You did?”

  “I did. And found various Barius-related items. She’s been snuggling up with Professor Toarius’s son. And no doubt funding his dwa habit after his father cut him off.”

  I tell Makri about Princess Du-Akai. Makri is annoyed to hear that a royal princess has been masquerading as an Orcish gladiator.

  “I’m insulted.”

  “That’s not the point. The point is I hit the Princess. If she remembers I’ll be executed.”

  “We could fight our way out.”

  “We might have to. Now help me look for Avenaris.”

  By now the masked ball has become a fantastic affair of flashing illuminations and rampaging sorcerous beasts. It’s fabulous entertainment. I’d stop to enjoy it if I didn’t know the city was going to explode any minute. It’s difficult working our way through the crowds. Even among the garishly dressed revellers Makri’s unusual costume draws attention. My funny Cicerius mask gets a few smiles too, though not from Cicerius himself when I bump into him outside the green marquee. He stares balefully at me and I can see him trying to work out where he’s seen this large figure before.

  “Wood nymph with yellow flowers over there,” yells Makri, and we set off in pursuit.

  We catch up with Avenaris near the orchard.

  “Don’t be too harsh with her,” suggests Makri.

  A great blast overhead signals the arrival of another shower of small meteors, which thud into the ground around us.

  “No time to be nice,” I grunt. I grab Avenaris, shove her into the darkness beneath the trees and rip my mask off.

  “I need some answers and I need them right now.”

  Avenaris shrinks back.

  “Go away,” she pleads.

  I point to the lights in the sky.

  “You see all this? It’s getting out of control and it’s going to end in disaster unless I recover every duplicate pendant. So tell me how many there are.”

  The secretary starts crying. Tears pour from under her mask. I take out my sword.

  “There are dead people here already. Tell me what I want to know or I’ll kill you right now.”

  “Help me!” wails Avenaris to Makri.

  Makri draws her black Orcish sword.

  “Sorry,” she says. “It’s time to talk.”

  Avenaris slides down the trunk of a tree till she’s sitting with her back to it, looking like a child. She sniffs, and takes off her mask.

  “I didn’t know all this was going to happen. I gave Barius the jewel. He needed money.”

  “I know. For dwa. Bad choice for a boyfriend.”

  “He said he would give it back. He was going to copy it and sell the copy. I didn’t know he would make so many.”

  “How did he make the copies?”

  “I stole a spell,” sniffs Avenaris. “From Lisutaris’s private library. Barius took it to a Sorcerer’s apprentice he knows.”

  “You realise the danger you’ve put everyone in?”

  Avenaris looks miserable, but whether it’s due to the trouble she’s caused I’m not sure. She might just be sad about her boyfriend’s problems.

  “It was very disloyal to Lisutaris,” says Makri, disapprovingly.

  Avenaris raises her head. A strange expression flickers across her face. I can’t read it exactly, but for a moment she looks almost defiant.

  “I should have been the rich one,” she says. “My father was head of the family.”

  She lowers her head and looks pathetic again.

  “How many pendants did he make?”

  “Fifteen. Then the spell wouldn’t work any more.”

  “I have nine pendants in my bag. Lisutaris has three. That’s twelve. Four more to collect.”

  “Three more,” says Makri, and takes one from her purse.

  “You found one? And didn’t stare into it?”

  “I have will power.”

  We hurry off, leaving Avenaris crying under the trees. Three pendants to find, which quickly becomes two as we stumble across the body of a young man who’s still clutching one between his fingers. I scoop it into my bag. I hope that the red Elvish cloth will contain them as effectively as Lisutaris claims.

  “Will the city really be flattened?” asks Makri.

  “It’s possible.”

  “But I’ve got an examination tomorrow. And I really studied hard for it.”

  A unicorn trots out from the trees. They’re pleasant animals. I never thought I’d get so sick of seeing them. It approaches Makri and starts nuzzling her face.

  “I just don’t see why these unicorns like you so much. It’s not like you’re a virgin.”

  “Is that an insult?” says Makri, suspiciously.

  “No, just a statement of fact.”

  “I’m sure that virginity has nothing to do with it anyway,” says Makri, patting the unicorn. “It’s my sunny personality. Or maybe it’s the Elvish blood. Is this actually a real unicorn?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t show any sign of disappearing. Neither does that mermaid who’s hypnotising the man in a sailor’s costume. Come on, we have two pendants to find.”

  My bracelet starts glowing. I climb into the fountain, bat the mermaid out of the way and scoop up another pendant. Only one more to go.

  Lisutaris, in her splendid angel costume, arrives in the company of someone who might be Prince Frisen-Akan. His costume is rich enough for a prince, and he’s drunk, so it could be. On seeing us Lisutaris sends him gently on his way and asks about our progress.

  “One more to go.”

  “Are you sure only one is missing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we are finished,” proclaims the Sorcerer. “I have it. I found it with two Senators who’d taken it off a unicorn. They were about to fight. Fortunately I interrupted them before their venal dream
s could drive them mad or kill them.”

  Lisutaris breathes a great sigh of relief.

  “I’m glad that’s all over. Thing were becoming hectic. I had to banish a troop of mountain trolls who were eating all the food, and the Consul got tangled up with an angry dryad. Unless that was just an angry citizen, it’s been hard to tell.”

  We withdraw under the privacy of a clump of trees. It’s a hot night and sweat is running down my face beneath my mask. Makri removes her helmet to wipe her brow. Lisutaris takes the bag of pendants, adds the jewels to the contents she already has, then rummages around inside. After a few moments she draws out a jewel.

  “This is the real one.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “I’m head of the Sorcerers Guild.”

  “You were fooled by an imitation before.”

  “I didn’t have the rest to compare then. Besides, I had to show the Consul something.”

  I take the pendant in my hand. It seems the same as all the others. But you have to trust Lisutaris on matters like this. She’s number one chariot in all matters of sorcery. I hand it back.

  “Congratulations,” comes a familiar voice. It’s Horm the Dead, still in costume.

  Lisutaris greets him coldly.

  “I do not believe I invited you.”

  “I did not wish to miss such a glittering occasion. Or the chance of meeting Makri again.”

  He bows to Makri, who looks uncomfortable, and may be blushing. In the shadow of the trees it’s hard to tell. Horm looks at the pendant in Lisutaris’s hand.

  “You know, I went to some trouble to send these all to your ball. Some I retrieved by sorcery… Casax for instance seemed unwilling to hand his over to me—some I bought, which involved rather large payments to Sarin—some I acquired from people I … removed.”

  “Tough luck,” I say. “Your plan failed.”

  “My plan?”

  “To cause such sorcerous instability that a disaster happened.”

  “Yes,” agrees Horm. “That would have been excellent. But that was not exactly my plan. Merely an entertaining lie. I still intend to take the pendant back to Prince Amrag. Till they were all gathered together, I could not be certain which was the original. And since you, Lisutaris, had already managed to retrieve one of the pendants, I felt that here would be as good a place as any to bring them all together. And now you have picked out the real one for me.”

  “Your power does not equal mine, Horm the Dead.”

  “You are mistaken. It does. But we do not have to battle each other now. You will simply hand over the original pendant to me and I will not drop this handful of powder on your bag.”

  “What?”

  “My own preparation. It will rot the red Elvish cloth in a matter of seconds. Unprotected by the magical barrier provided by the cloth, the fifteen pendants in close proximity to each other will, I believe, cause a sorcerous event of such magnitude that few of your guests will survive.”

  Horm turns his head towards me.

  “Please do not try any sudden movement. I am quite prepared for it, and you will die. Lisutaris, the pendant.”

  We seem to be stuck. It’s the sort of moment a man needs to think of a quick plan. I don’t come up with anything. Horm lets a little dust trickle from his fingers. The Elvish cloth starts to decay before our eyes.

  “You will still have a fake jewel for fooling the Consul,” says Horm, and holds out his hand. Lisutaris has no choice. Everyone here will die. She hands over the original. Horm tucks the pendant into the folds of his costume and then, unexpectedly, he removes his mask. He moves a step closer to Makri and leans towards her, quite slowly. He kisses her lightly on her lips. Makri doesn’t move at all. Horm steps back.

  “You will one day visit my Kingdom,” he says, before turning on his heel and hurrying off, leaving Makri looking embarrassed.

  Horm doesn’t get far. A masked figure steps swiftly out from behind a tree with a short club in his hand and slugs Horm on the back of the head. Horm crumples to the ground. It’s nice work. Moving swiftly, the figure reaches down to wrench the pendant from Horm’s grasp.

  “Good work, Demanius,” I say.

  The masked figure looks over in surprise.

  “I recognised the clubbing action. Now give the pendant to Lisutaris and we’ll get rid of Horm.”

  The Investigator draws his mask up, revealing his features.

  “Can’t do that, Thraxas. I’m working for Rittius at the Palace. The pendant goes to him.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I’m not paid to argue.”

  It’s intolerable. We go through all this and the pendant still isn’t coming home. I’m still trying to work through the ramifications of Demanius returning the pendant to Rittius at Palace Security when the Investigator makes to leave.

  “Stop him,” cries Lisutaris.

  Demanius, almost at the edge of the trees, jerks backwards. For a moment I think that Lisutaris has halted him with a spell. Then, as his body spins and falls, I notice a crossbow bolt sticking from his chest. Another masked figure, tall and slender, darts from behind the tree. She grabs the pendant and leaps into the crowd, disappearing immediately among the throng. Sarin the Merciless. I wondered where she’d got to.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You didn’t find her?”

  Makri arrives in Lisutaris’s private chambers some time after the death of Demanius. She shakes her head.

  “She’s a slippery woman, Sarin. Probably climbed the outside wall while you were still searching the marquees.”

  “I didn’t see you rushing to help,” complains Makri, and sits down heavily on a gilded couch.

  “I’ve done enough rushing around.”

  Lisutaris herself is sitting dejectedly on another couch.

  “You still have a lot of fakes,” says Makri.

  “They’ll spot it at the Palace. I can’t believe we lost the pendant after we went to so much trouble.”

  I’m sorry about Demanius. He was a good man. His body has been removed discreetly by Lisutaris’s staff and now lies in a cellar, along with another two unfortunate souls who met their end as a result of the pendants. Two dead guests. Not as bad as it could have been. Lisutaris can probably explain it away as natural causes. The way some of these elderly Senators have been drinking and dancing, you’d expect a few fatalities.

  I take a bottle of wine from under my toga.

  “Help yourself to my supplies,” says Lisutaris.

  “I figure I earned it.”

  I’m tempted to demand an explanation for my not being invited to the ball. It still rankles. I swallow it back. No need to hear Lisutaris explain in detail that I’m just not the right class of person.

  “You know that this whole thing was started off by your secretary?”

  “So you say.”

  “I don’t just say. I know. I searched her rooms. You’d be surprised what I found there. Letters to Barius. A diary full of some interesting observations about you. And a few items she’s probably stolen from you over the years. Didn’t you suspect her at all?”

  “I told you to leave her out of this.”

  “You know she resents you for inheriting the family fortune? It wouldn’t surprise me if she blames you for her father’s death.”

  Lisutaris glares at me.

  “Thraxas. Do you think that this is unknown to me? Do you seriously believe it has never crossed my mind that my brother’s daughter may be jealous of my position? That she may have acted unwisely out of resentment at me inheriting the bulk of the family’s wealth?”

  “Well shouldn’t you be doing something—”

  The Sorceress raises her hand.

  “I am doing something. I’m protecting her. I have a duty to my family. You will not mention her part in this to anyone and you will not raise the subject with me again. Count yourself fortunate that I do not punish you for searching her room.”

  I shrug. If Lisutaris wants
to wake up one day with a knife in her ribs, courtesy of her disgruntled niece, that’s her problem.

  “You hired me to get the pendant. So I did what I had to do. It’s my job.”

  “You failed.”

  Poor Lisutaris. Downstairs her ball is a raging success and here she is, slumped on a couch smoking thazis and looking as miserable as a Niojan whore. It’s a tough life as head of the Sorcerers Guild.

  “Failed? Me? Failure is an alien concept to Thraxas the Investigator.”

  I take the real pendant out of my bag.

  “Number one chariot at investigating, as is commonly said.”

  Lisutaris leaps off the couch to grab the pendant.

  “How did you get this?”

  “I palmed it, of course, when you were showing it off. I made a switch right under your nose. It’s the sort of thing I do well.”

  “But why?”

  “Why? You think I was going to let you keep the pendant when the gardens were full of people like Horm and Sarin? It was asking for trouble.”

  “Couldn’t you have told me that before I went chasing after Sarin?” says Makri.

  “You ran off too quickly. You’re impetuous, Makri, I’ve mentioned it before. Anyway, you wanted to kill her and I wasn’t going to stand in your way. Don’t worry, you’ll get another chance.”

  Lisutaris, no longer as miserable as a Niojan whore, congratulates me.

  “I have the pendant. I have all the fakes. The one Sarin took will destabilise and disappear soon. I’m in the clear!”

  “You are indeed. Unfortunately, I’m not. I’m in trouble for not answering a summons from Palace Security.”

  “I can have that rescinded,” says Lisutaris.

  “I put a Guards captain to sleep with a spell.”

  “I can probably smooth that over,” says Lisutaris.

  “I hit Princess Du-Akai.”

  “You’re in big trouble,” says Lisutaris. “I could act as character witness.”

  The sorcerer offers me some thazis and I accept it gratefully. As I inhale the pungent smoke I can feel my body relaxing.