Thraxas and the Oracle: Thraxas Book Ten

by Martin Scott

  The young sorcerer looks hurt. I ignore her and march out through the door. In the street outside I bump into a brawny grey-haired barbarian. I’m about to tell him to watch where he’s going when he suddenly cries out.

  “Thraxas!”

  “Gurd!”

  I can’t believe it. Gurd, my oldest companion, still alive.

  “Gurd! I thought you were dead!”

  “Me? No Orc is getting the better of me.”

  “Where’s Tanrose?”

  “She’s here too.”

  The news that Tanrose, finest cook in Twelve Seas, escaped the wreckage of Turai, brings unaccustomed joy to my heart. Her unmatched stew and pie-making skills were one of the few things that made life in Turai worth living. I’m moved to embrace Gurd. I can’t remember the last time I embraced anyone.

  “I thought I’d find you here, you dog,” he roars, and pounds me on the back. “Have you joined the Turanian regiment?”

  “No, I’m with Lisutaris. Important work for the War Leader!”

  “Can it wait?”

  “Of course,” I cry. “We need to find a tavern.” I turn to Anumaris. “Investigating is finished for the day. I need to talk to Gurd.”

  “I don’t think - ”

  “No one cares what you think,” I tell her curtly. Then I give Gurd another hearty clap on the shoulder and we go off in search of a tavern to celebrate our joint survival, and catch up with each other’s news. Finding Gurd alive is the only good thing that’s happened in a long time.

  Chapter Four

  Later, well-ensconced at a corner table in the Beery Knave, a small, dark tavern in a small, dark alleyway, I’m toasting Gurd and Tanrose’s survival with a large tankard of ale. He informs me he’s only been in the city for two days.

  “We’re living in a tent up at the refugee camp, north of the walls. Not as bad as it sounds, they’ve got it well organised. Everyone who’s fit and able gets the chance to join up with the army. I’ll be doing that tomorrow.”

  “How did you get out of Turai? When Deeziz worked that spell I blacked out. When I came round there was no one left in the Avenging Axe except Lisutaris and Makri. I dragged them out of there just before we were overrun. Had a close thing on the beach with a dragon.”

  Gurd nods. “I blacked out too. I was already sick with the winter malady. When I came round I was out in the street with Tanrose and a few others. I hardly knew what was going on. That Orcish sorcerer really fooled us all. I was standing there wondering what was happening when a squadron of Orcs came round the corner with pikes and shields. I took out my sword and got ready for my death stand.”

  Gurd bangs his fist on the table. “It would have been a good death stand! I’d have taken plenty of them with me.” He laughs. “But I’d have died soon enough. I could hardly stay on my feet, with the illness and the sorcery. Tanrose would have died too.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Tirini saved us.”

  “Tirini Snake Smiter?”

  “That’s right. You remember she was in the tavern too, for the big card game? She hobbled up, still dazed like everyone else, and still wearing her fur cloak and these fancy shoes. Could hardly walk. But she saved us all right. I tell you Thraxas, I’d no idea that woman was such a powerful sorcerer. She waved her arm and shouted out some spell. Next thing I knew we were all outside the city walls, quite a long way west. We could see the city burning but there were no Orcs or Dragons anywhere near.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Tirini did that?”

  “She did. Took me and Tanrose and two or three others with her. Just plucked us up and set us down about a mile away. It only seemed to take a few seconds. Strangest thing that’s ever happened to me. ”

  I’m impressed, and surprised. Lisutaris does insist that Tirini Snake Smiter is a powerful sorcerer, though you wouldn’t think that if you only knew her by reputation. With her perfectly-dyed blonde hair, her extravagant make up, her expensive fancy clothes and so on, she’s always seemed keener on fashion and scandalous relationships than practising sorcery. She featured regularly in the gossip sheets that circulated in Turai. She was denounced from the pulpit on more than one occasion by Archbishop Gzekius, who regarded her as the epitome of Turai’s decadent and impious upper-classes. Decadent and impious she may be, but moving a group of people instantly through space is an extremely difficult thing to do. I presume she somehow opened a portal into the magic space and dragged everyone through. It’s hard enough for a powerful sorcerer to do that for themselves. Taking a group of people with you would need sorcery of a very high level, higher than I thought she had.

  “I didn’t realise Tirini had so much power.”

  Gurd nods, but looks troubled. “She certainly saved our lives. But it cost her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It seemed like using such a powerful spell broke her mind, or something like that. Afterwards she couldn’t speak. She could hardly walk, and it wasn’t just the fancy shoes holding her back. It was like she’d used up every bit of her strength and had nothing left. I had to carry her. Eventually we found a horse and cart and we set off in that. We thought Tirini would get better but she didn’t. After a day or two I was over the Winter Malady and we were all in reasonable shape, except for Tirini. She still hasn’t recovered. She didn’t speak for the whole journey. Could hardly get her to eat anything either.”

  I nod my head. “Instant travel through the magic space is dangerous as well as difficult. Sorcerers rarely risk it.”

  Gurd frowns. “I don’t like it, Thraxas. I don’t like that she saved us at such a cost to herself. You’d hardly recognise her if you saw her.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Tanrose is taking her to Lisutaris. Maybe she can help. Though I gather it’s not easy to see Lisutaris these days, now she’s War Leader.”

  “Don’t worry, Lisutaris will help. Tirini was her best friend.”

  “I hope so. We met another Turanian sorcerer on the way here, but he wasn’t much help.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Coranius. I didn’t take to him.”

  “Coranius the Grinder? That’s good news, Gurd. He’s got a lot of power, he’ll be a help in the war.”

  “Maybe, but he’s a miserable man. Hardly spoke to us on the journey. Didn’t help Tirini either. Seemed to think she should just pull herself together.”

  A waitress plants a bowl of stew on the table. I thank her, give her a goodly tip, and start mashing up a few yams.

  “So here we are, off to war again.”

  Gurd nods. He’s a large, brawny man, with huge arm muscles and long hair now mostly grey, still looking as barbaric as the day he appeared in Turai, which must be more than twenty years ago. We fought as mercenaries and soldiers together many times. He ended up owning a tavern and I ended up as his tenant, which probably says something about which one of us is the wisest.

  “What’s this about you being in some private security unit? I was expecting you to be in the Turanian phalanxes with me.”

  “I’d much rather be there. Unfortunately I’ve saved Lisutaris’s life so many times she can’t do without me. I tell you Gurd, without me looking after Lisutaris we’d have lost the war already.”

  Gurd laughs. “You saved her life? Are you sure it wasn’t Makri?”

  “Makri? She’s been hopeless from the start. Absolutely useless. If I hadn’t dragged her skinny frame onto that boat she’d be dragon food by now. Not that she was grateful. I tell you Gurd, the last few weeks have been a nightmare, shepherding these two women around.”

  I bang my tankard on the table. “You’d think a powerful sorcerer and a so-called champion gladiator might have been able to do something for themselves, but really they just left everything to me. They spent most of the time crying.”

  “Crying?”

  “Yes. Completely sickening. You know what Makri’s like - always bragging about what a tough gladiator she was, and how many fights s
he won. Let me tell you that when something goes wrong, she still bursts into tears. Since Turai fell, she’s spent most of the time sobbing like a baby. And Lisutaris is no better. You hear her talking about bringing down dragons, but given the slightest excuse, she’ll burst into tears as well.”

  Gurd looks shocked. “Lisutaris too?”

  “I swear it’s true. I tell you Gurd, there were times when it was all I could do to stay sane, with Lisutaris wailing, and Makri blubbering away beside her. You know I can’t stand it when women cry.”

  “No one can.”

  I give Gurd a stern look. “You’re not thinking of bursting into tears now we’ve met again, are you?”

  “Certainly not.”

  Having safely established that neither of us are going to cry, we get down to some drinking. I can’t describe what a relief it is to see him alive. We’re still swapping stories when Gurd announces that he has to leave. He’s promised to meet Tanrose to buy supplies to take back to their tent. I’m disappointed.

  “Can’t she manage on her own?”

  “I promised I’d be there.”

  Unlike me, Gurd is a man who keeps his promises, even when he’d rather be downing ale. I should probably admire him for it. I grumble a little as he departs, and have myself another beer to make up for my disappointment. I look down at my empty bowl of stew. Not bad quality. Nothing like Tanrose could make, of course. I look around the small tavern, vaguely wondering what I should be doing next. Investigating, I suppose. But there’s really nothing to investigate. Nothing I can think of anyway. If Deeziz the Unseen has arrived in Samsarina, I doubt she’s going to reveal herself in the Beery Knave. I start to feel a little annoyed. It’s all very well Lisutaris telling me to go out and find Deeziz, but isn’t that something the Sorcerers should be doing? I did once have a few sorcerous powers but they’ve mostly gone now. Nothing I can do is going to magically locate Deeziz. What was it I said To Anumaris Thunderbolt about just plodding round, looking for clues? I can’t remember. Some nonsense, I expect.

  “To hell with them all,” I mutter. “Particularly Anumaris. I never thought the day would come when I’d be in a tavern with someone who asked for a glass of water. What was Lisutaris doing, putting her on my staff? If that’s the best young sorcerer we’ve got, the West is doomed.”

  I’m yawning. I should sleep. Since arriving in the capital I’ve been billeted in a barracks on the west of the city but it’s a long way back there. I decide to head back to my new office at Lisutaris’s headquarters and sleep there. I remember there isn’t a couch. I told Anumaris to sort that out for me but I doubt if she has. Where is she anyway? Shouldn’t she be around? I’ll have something to say to her about deserting me when we’re meant to be on duty.

  Spring has arrived and it’s a warm say in the Samsarinan capital. I give a cheerful wave to a squadron of heavily armed Elves who march by in good formation. I’m still yawning as I climb the stairs and enter my office. Inside is Anumaris Thunderbolt. The young sorcerer doesn’t look that pleased to see me.

  “Where did you get to?” I demand. “You don’t just wander off when you’re on duty.”

  “You told me to go away!”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “Yes you did! You were extremely rude.”

  I scowl at her. “This is war. What do you expect? A pat on the head from the local ladies sewing circle? My security department is a tough fighting unit. If you can’t take it, go work somewhere else.”

  “Your tough fighting unit seems to spend all its time drinking in taverns.”

  “You mean investigating in taverns. And shouldn’t you be addressing me as General? This is the army, show some discipline.”

  “You’re not a General. You’re a Captain.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “Very well. Captain it is. Now go away, I need to rest.” Suddenly I bump my leg on an unexpectedly large piece of furniture. “What’s this?”

  “A couch. Sort of.”

  “What do you mean sort of? Is it a couch or isn’t it?”

  “There aren’t any couches available for requisition. I took four chairs and joined them up with a spell.”

  I take a look at her handiwork. Four chairs, reasonably comfy, lined up and fixed together. Quite clever, really.

  “Not bad. It’s time you did something useful round here. The rest of your work has been a great disappointment.”

  With that, I lie down on my new couch and fall asleep. My first day as Lisutaris’s Chief Security Officer has been quite arduous, and I need my rest.

  Chapter Five

  The makeshift couch proves satisfactory but I don’t manage to rest as long as I’d like. After what seems like a very short time I’m shaken awake by Anumaris. I glare at her angrily.

  “Didn’t I instruct you I wasn’t to be disturbed?”

  “No.”

  “Well I meant to. Go away.”

  “Commander Lisutaris is holding a meeting and you’re to go there immediately.”

  “Dammit. What does she want?”

  “To conduct the war, I suppose,” says Anumaris with what may be a touch of sarcasm.

  I haul myself to my feet, a little unsteadily.

  “You can’t go there looking like that,” says Anumaris.

  “Like what?”

  “Like a man who’s just crawled out of a tavern after ten flagons of ale.”

  “Was it ten?”

  “I don’t know! I was just guessing.”

  “It’s probably accurate enough.”

  “You stink of alcohol. Lisutaris specifically ordered you not to drink! And she told me to make sure you didn’t! You couldn’t even make it through one day.”

  The young sorcerer seems rather agitated by all this. Quite unexpectedly, she points at me and speaks a few arcane words. I feel a sudden chill, and shiver.

  “What was that? Did you just work a spell on me?”

  “Yes. The minor tidying spell. Now you don’t smell of ale any more. And you look a bit neater. It will get you through the meeting.”

  I’m sure it’s against army discipline for your subordinated to suddenly fire spells at you. On the other hand, it’s probably not such a bad thing. No point giving Lisutaris something to complain about.

  “All right, let’s go.”

  “I don’t think I’m invited,” says Anumaris.

  “You’re coming as my assistant. Pay attention to everything in case I need you to repeat it later.”

  In the short time since she was chosen as War Leader, Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, has efficiently organised her command structure. At the centre are just four people. Herself, as overall Commander and senior sorcerer, General Hemistos as infantry Commander, Bishop-General Ritari as cavalry Commander, and Lord Kalith-ar-Yil as Elvish Commander. These appointments are both practical and political. Each officer has a good reputation and plenty of experience of fighting, and between them they represent most of the troops who’ll make up the armies of the West. Hemistos is Samsarinan. Ritari is Niojan. We haven’t joined up with the Niojan army yet but Lisutaris summoned him early, wanting the Niojans to know that they had a senior man in an important position. Lord Kalith-ar-Yil, an Elf I’ve encountered on several occasions, is the most senior Elf in attendance, and has the loyalty of all the southern Elvish Isles.

  There is one important nation missing from Lisutaris’s central command. As yet no there’s representative from Simnia. That could be a problem. Simnia has never liked Turai, and might be expected to chafe about a Turanian being War Leader. They’ll complain more if they feel they’re not represented at the heart of the command structure. I don’t know what Lisutaris plans to do about that. Whatever happens, Lisutaris’s position as War Leader seems secure. The young King of Samsarina supports her. The Elves wouldn’t support anyone else. The Niojans aren’t thought to be particularly happy about the appointment, particularly as Lisutaris is female, but they seem to have acc
epted the reality that there was no other candidate who could command enough support.

  Beneath these central leadership figures are a number of other commanders. They have responsibility for important matters such as the fleet, which will be sailing along the coast, ready to support us when our route brings us closer to the sea. Then there’s the Commander with responsibility for provisions, another in charge of armaments, and another in charge of heavy equipment, our mounted crossbows and siege equipment and so on. It’s not as large as group as I might have expected, and from what I’ve seen, Lisutaris has things under tight control. She glances at me as I enter the room. “Captain Thraxas,” she murmurs.

  “Commander Lisutaris.” I reply, politely. All the aforementioned commanders are here, as is Makri. Makri is admitted to all but the most secret meetings between the commanders. That’s quite a turnaround in fortune for the ragged, uncivilised gladiator who arrived in Turai only a few years ago, with no notion of how to behave in polite society. She could hardly use cutlery. It was fortunate for her that she ran into me. I taught her most of what she knows these days.

  We listen while General Mexes, a Samsarinan in charge of armaments, gives a report on the number of spears, swords and shields now available to the army. It’s brief and to the point, as is the Elvish Admiral Arith’s summary of our naval strength. I’m generally impressed. Arrangements for moving and provisioning the large army seem to be going smoothly. It says a lot for Lisutaris’s powers of organisation and delegation. When each Commander has made their report, Lisutaris declares herself satisfied. “We’ll set off in twenty four hours. We should meet up with the Simnian army in six days.”

  I’m not called on to speak during the meeting. Lisutaris hasn’t made it widely known that she suspects Deeziz the Unseen might be attempting to infiltrate our forces. My work has so far been carried out in secrecy. I presume that’s why she asks me stay behind when everyone else is dismissed.

  “Storm Class Anumaris, stay behind as well.”