Thraxas at War

by Martin Scott

  My unit isn't the only one suffering from the unsuit-ability of some of its members. In a nearby unit I actually see the head of the Leatherworkers Guild attempting to march in formation, and the head of the Leatherworkers Guild is famous for being the fattest man in Turai, with a girth so enormous that my not inconsiderable bulk pales in comparison. I'm surprised he can walk, let alone carry a spear. God knows what will happen if he's required to break into a run. To give him his due, at least he's here. As head of the guild, he could probably have pulled some strings to avoid military service. The same could be said for Samanatius, another person I am astonished to see wielding a spear. Samanatius is Turai's most prominent philosopher. A fraud, as far as I can see, though Makri holds him in high regard. Fraud or not, he could legitimately have avoided service due to his advanced age, yet here he is, marching along with a group of young men from the philosophers' academy he runs. I'd always assumed he would be some sort of pacifist, but Makri once informed me that he regards the military defence of the state against outside aggression as the duty of all citizens. It made me like him a little better.

  At the end of practice I'm as cold as a frozen pixie and confidently looking forward to death the first time we're called into action. Senator Marius speaks to his centurions and corporals as the men drift away.

  "Don't worry," he says, surprisingly cheerfully. "I've lashed worse men than these into shape."

  "There are worse men than these?" I mutter. We watch as a phalanx of professional soldiers from the King's guard marches past in splendid formation. We saw them practising earlier, and the difference between their performance and ours could hardly have been greater. They won't break at the first assault, or come apart when they're charging the enemy.

  There's a marked lack of cheerful war stories among the corporals. Bad memories are coming to the fore.

  "We were saved by the Elves last time," says one, a sail-maker from Twelve Seas. "If they'd arrived one day later Turai would have fallen. Rezaz the Butcher would have marched in and we'd all be long dead."

  No one cares to dispute this. It's true. In reality, if the

  Elves had arrived one hour later, Turai would have fallen. The east wall was already starting to crumble when the Elvish armies arrived on the battlefield.

  I'm hungry. I look around for Consul Kalius's tent, hoping to snag a pastry from his chef, but the Consul isn't on the field this day, and I trudge from the practice fields hungrily, in a poor mood. At the Eastern Gate I come face to face with Vedinax. He's a head taller than me, muscled like an ox, with a long sword slung over his back. I walk up to him and stand close.

  "Take a good look round," I growl.

  "Why?"

  "You won't be seeing it for much longer. If the Orcs don't kill you I will."

  Vedinax sneers down at me. He's not scared of any sorcery I might be able to muster against him. He wears a spell protection charm around his neck. They're expensive items, rare in the city, but obviously his boss Capatius provides for him well.

  "No chance of that, fat man."

  "We both know I didn't flee from the Battle of Sanasa."

  "I seem to remember you did," says Vedinax.

  I decide to kill him now. It was a bad idea to fight the case in court. I draw my sword. Vedinax draws his. Suddenly four men in uniform stride between us. Praetor Capatius has arrived with his guard. I sheathe my sword.

  "I'll kill you later," I say. Vedinax isn't intimidated. He once took the award for valour for being first over the enemy walls at a siege. I don't care if he's intimidated or not. I'll still kill him one day.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Domasius isn't a bad lawyer. A little too fond of wine. Maybe not immune from taking a bribe in one of the minor cases he conducts in the courts. But he's sharp as an Elf's ear at sifting through evidence. I'd consult him more often, but even at the cheap end of the market, lawyers' fees are expensive. Domasius lives between Jade Temple Fields and Thamlin. Probably he'd like to make the move into Thamlin proper, but unless he gets appointed to some high-profile cases that's not going to happen, and at his age, nearly fifty, it's unlikely to. His office is a little seedy, with a lot of scrolls and documents waiting to be filed away, and a faint aroma of thazis hanging over everything.

  I turn up for my consultation around midday and find him buried in The Renowned and Truthful Record of All the World's Events, the daily news-sheet which focuses on the grimier side of life in Turai. Of which there's a lot to focus on. He shakes his head, pointing to the lead story, which concerns a merchant who's just been convicted of insurance fraud, claiming money for a lost cargo of wheat which never actually existed.

  "He should have hired me," says Domasius. I'd have got him off."

  "He was guilty."

  Domasius shrugs.

  How many guilty clients have you worked for?" he asks.

  "One or two."

  Domasius adjusts his toga - not sparkling white - and pours me a goblet of wine. His grey hair is cut short, as is the fashion with the senatorial class, but it's a little ragged, and his beard could do with a trim. It's obvious that Domasius is never really going to move up in the world. It strikes me that it must be equally obvious to my clients that I'm not going anywhere either.

  "How did you make out with the documents?"

  Domasius shuffles around on his desk, pulling out a few pieces of paper and glancing at them.

  "You want it in technical language?"

  "Simple will do."

  "Senator Lodius is guilty as hell. He organised the forgery of that will and he didn't even do it that well. Prefect Galwinius was going to nail him in court."

  I finish my wine and climb to my feet.

  "Don't you want a fuller report?"

  "That'll do for now. You can send the report to my office with your bill."

  I head for the door.

  "Make sure you pay the bill before the Orcs attack," calls Domasius after me. He's not the only person in town worried about settling their accounts before Prince Amrag arrives.

  Senator Lodius is still under house arrest. The guards outside his gates let me through, used to me by now. I wait a long time at the front door while a servant goes to fetch Lodius's wife. The door is painted white. Every front door in Turai is, even mine. It's the lucky colour for front doors.

  Ivaris is a little apprehensive when she arrives in the hallway. I didn't send a message warning her of my arrival, which means she hasn't had the opportunity to get her husband out of the way.

  "That's fine. I don't want him out the way, I want to see him."

  She looks apologetic.

  "I'm afraid he still refuses to see you."

  I look apologetic back.

  "Doesn't matter. I need to see him."

  Her mouth sets in a firm little line.

  "I'm afraid you can't. It's been very awkward for me, keeping you engaged. It's caused us great stress. I've done it because I believe you can help, but there are limits. You really cannot see my husband."

  "Ivaris, I'm sorry. I know this is awkward. And I don't like being awkward towards a lady who invited me into her private prayer chapel and makes sure I get food when I visit. But I'm here to see Lodius and that's what I'm going to do."

  She stands right in front of me.

  "If you think I won't bat you out the way, you're mistaken," I tell her.

  "You certainly would not bat me out of the way."

  "I certainly would. When you hire Thraxas you get the full package. Hitting people included in the price. So take me to your husband before I search the house for him, and tell those servants behind you not to bother trying to stop me, they'll only get hurt."

  I move past her, not exactly batting her out the way but not letting her stop me either. A servant does try to prevent my advance but I brush him aside and carry on to the private rooms in the centre of the house. Hearing the commotion, Senator Lodius makes a swift appearance.

  "He forced his way past me," says his wif
e, bringing up the rear, and sounding betrayed.

  The Senator casts an evil glance in her direction before turning his glare on me.

  "Save the stare, I need to talk to you. Here will do, or somewhere private if you'd rather the servants didn't hear."

  "This way," says Senator Lodius, and leads me further back into an office.

  "Is there any reason why I should not call for the Civil Guard to throw you out?"

  "No reason at all. But the way your popularity has waned recently, I'm not sure they'd be all that quick in coming to your rescue. I have questions."

  "I have already made it abundantly clear that I do not wish to talk to you. You do not represent me."

  "I do. Or maybe I represent your wife. Either way I'm working on your case. And I just learned from a lawyer that you're guilty in the matter of forging a will."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Comosius's will. You forged it, or rather, you had it forged for you. Galwinius was right, you were trying to defraud him of an inheritance. He had witnesses and documents. He was going to skewer you in court."

  I'm expecting a lot of arguments and denials. I'm expecting wrong.

  "You are quite right. I did cause the will to be forged."

  "You admit it?"

  "Yes."

  "Why did you do it?"

  "I needed the money. My political campaigning is prohibitively expensive. The Populares do not have the resources of the King's treasury behind us."

  "So you just thought you'd help yourself to someone else's fortune?"

  "You could put it like that. As Galwinius was a miserable parasite who built his fortune largely by robbing the poor, I thought it was not an unreasonable thing to do."

  Senator Lodius is looking me right in the eye. I wouldn't say he was crushed with guilt. I wouldn't say he was bothered at all. Cold as an Ore's heart, like all ambitious politicians.

  "Are you still denying you murdered Galwinius?"

  "I am."

  "Even though he was about to prosecute you for a crime you had committed and would be found guilty of?"

  "It was not certain that I would be found guilty."

  "It was likely'

  The Senator shrugs. He's calm in a crisis, I'll give him that.

  "Is this why you didn't want me on the case? Because I'd find out about the will?"

  "No. Any Investigator would have found out. I didn't want you working for me because you're not a suitable man to be associated with my family'

  "I'm not the one who's been forging wills around here."

  "No, you're the one who lives in a cheap tavern in

  Twelve Seas in conditions of squalor. I have been in your office, if you remember."

  "I remember all right. You blackmailed me."

  I feel a strong need for a beer.

  Any chance of some traditional hospitality?"

  "No."

  "I figured it was worth a shot. You realise you're going to hang for Prefect Galwinius's murder?"

  "Perhaps."

  "No perhaps about it. The fraud case ended with Galwinius's death but they're going to pin the murder on you for sure. And they're not going to let you retreat into exile. Are you planing to flee the city before the case comes to court?"

  "My affairs are no business of yours, Investigator. I insist that you leave now."

  I try to think of something good to say. Nothing occurs to me. So I take the Senator's advice and walk out of the office and along the corridor towards the front door. Senator Lodius's wife is waiting for me. She looks at me with hurt in her eyes.

  "Do not come back here," she says. And please regard your work as finished. I will no longer employ you."

  I leave the house without saying goodbye. The guards at the front gate look at me blankly as I pass, stamping their feet to keep out the cold. Now I've been ejected by both the Senator and his wife. I hang around, wondering what to do. I could give up on the case. I should give up on the case. No one wants me to investigate it. As of now, no one's paying me. It's stupid to carry on, But I want to know who killed Galwinius. All my life, I've been more curious than is good for me.

  I decide to visit Lisutaris. Probably she'll be either too busy or else unwilling to see me. Still angry over the harsh words I spoke to her in the Avenging Axe, no doubt. Damn these women, and in particular, damn these women Sorcerers. Realising that knocking on Lisutaris's door unfortified by alcohol is asking too much of a man, I look round for a tavern. Taverns are in short supply in Thamlin and I have to make a diversion to find one. Inside I feel out of place among the Senators' servants, so I make haste in downing a few ales and take a bottle of klee with me for the journey. I knock it back quickly as I walk, and it lifts my spirits somewhat. By the time I'm strolling into Truth is Beauty Lane I've mellowed a good deal and am feeling more benevolent towards Lisutaris. Not such a bad sort really. Fought bravely in the war, and paid me well when I helped her in the election.

  I'm shown to a reception room by a surly servant. These days I'm really unpopular with the servants. I'm uncertain what I'm going to say to Lisutaris but I'll have to try to persuade her to use her powers to help me somehow. Maybe she can trace the elusive scroll. It's pretty much my last hope, so I'm even prepared to go so far as to offer an apology for my angry words at the Avenging Axe. I take another healthy slug of klee. I notice I've drunk more than half the bottle of the powerful spirit, which is fine for a man of my capacity. For others, less experienced, it might cause problems.

  After ten minutes or so another servant leads me to Lisutaris's favourite room, overlooking the garden, now covered with snow. The garden contains private fishponds, as is customary among the very wealthy. If you're rich enough you can serve fish to your guests from your own stock. It always impresses the guests. Lisutaris regards me with displeasure.

  "Lisutaris, I need your help," I begin quickly. "I'm sorry I spoke harshly to you at the Avenging Axe the other night. No need for it. Though it was understandable, I suppose. It was quite a shock to find my office full of strange women. Anyone would have been surprised. You can't really blame a man for reacting badly. I mean, it's not like the Association of Gentlewomen are favourites of mine. A bunch of troublemakers, you might even say. From a certain point of view, that is. Your view, equally valid of course, may differ. So though I'd say I'm really the victim here I'm prepared to let bygones be bygones."

  Lisutaris is looking confused.

  "What is this?" she demands.

  "I'm apologising."

  "It doesn't sound like it."

  "Well, how much apologising does a man have to do when he finds his office filled up with a bunch of harpies intent on persecuting the hard-working men of Turai? Goddammit, who told you you could cram my office full of murderous Assassins, half-witted barmaids and parasitic Senators' wives? What the hell have Senators' wives got to complain about anyway? They're all raking in a lot more money than me and no doubt cavorting with professional athletes while their husbands are busy at the Senate. I tell you, it's this sort of behaviour that's dragged this city into the dust. When I was a young man the Consul would've exiled the lot of you."

  I take another drink from my bottle of klee. Lisutaris raises one eyebrow.

  "Is this still part of the apology?"

  "So you expect me to apologise? Is that why you dragged me here? I'm not the one who should be apologising. What have you got to say for yourself, that's what I want to know'

  Are you drunk?"

  "Possibly. No doubt when the Association of Gentlewomen takes over the city your first action will be to close down the taverns. Admit it, you're nothing but a bunch of hypocrites. Continually criticising me—'

  "We've never mentioned you," interrupts Lisutaris.

  I wave her quiet.

  "Continually criticising me for a modest intake of ale when the whole world knows the Association of Gentlewomen is no more than a front for some of the wildest, most degenerate drinking ever seen in the city. Since Makri fell
in with you she's rarely been sober. And what about your abuse of thazis? I don't see any mention of that at your meetings. No, just prolonged criticism of Investigators, honest landlords and the hard-working masses. You're all so bitter you can't stand to see a man enjoying a quiet tankard of ale. And who was it helped you get elected as head of the Sorcerers Guild anyway? I'll tell you who, it was me. Just like it was me who saved your sorry hide when you lost the green jewel last summer. That wouldn't have looked so good if the Consul had got to know about it. I chased all over the city looking for that gem, and how do you repay me? By barging into my offices uninvited and fouling up the place with incense and a new rug. I tell you—'

  I break off. I might be mistaken, but it seems to me that there's a tear rolling from the corner of Lisutaris's eye. Immediately I'm uncomfortable. I hate it when anyone cries, always have. I never know what to say. Have I been too harsh? I remember that I'd planned to apologise to Lisutaris, not lambaste her. It's odd that she'd start crying. She's not the sort of woman to crumple in the face of a little mild criticism.

  "Eh ... I'm sorry . . . maybe I spoke a little harshly. Didn't mean to make you cry."

  Lisutaris rises to her feet.

  Thraxas, you imbecile. Nothing you could say would make me shed a tear. You insufferable buffoon, how dare you force your way into my house and criticise me!"

  "So who's upset about uninvited guests now? You think it's okay to barge into my office—'

  "Will you be quiet about that!" roars the Mistress of the Sky.

  "Oh fine, it's okay for you to complain, but not—'

  Lisutaris clenches her fists.

  "If you continue with this I will blast you all the way to Simnia!" she yells. "I'm not concerned about your office, your rug, or even your abominable drunkenness. Today I was sacked from the War Council! Me! Lisutaris, head of the Sorcerers Guild!"

  I find myself sobering up surprisingly quickly.