Thraxas and the Dance of Death

Chapter Four

Approximately nine hours after finding the bodies, I climb out of a horse-drawn landus, pay the driver, and head up the long, long pathway to Lisutaris’s villa. I’ve had six hours of questioning from the Civil Guard and two hours’ sleep, and I’m not in what you’d call a good mood. The sight of Lisutaris’s beautifully tended flower beds, trees and bushes doesn’t make things any better. People with this sort of money generally don’t find themselves on the wrong end of six hours’ hostile questioning by a series of Guards, each one dumb as an Orc and none of them looking like they’d mind knocking me around the room if I didn’t come up with some better answers. If Captain Rallee hadn’t appeared they probably would have. The Captain doesn’t like me, but he only uses violence against suspects in emergencies. The Guards don’t actually think I killed the four men in the Spiked Mace. Not Captain Rallee anyway, he knows me better, though some of his superiors think I’m capable of anything. Prefect Galwinius, head of the Guard in Twelve Seas, would like nothing better than to send me off to a slave galley. Rallee’s more sensible, but the problem is that I can never bring myself to tell the Guards too much about any case I’m working on. No matter how many times the Captain demanded that I tell him what I was doing in the Mace, I just wasn’t going to say that I was there looking for a pendant for Lisutaris. If I started identifying my clients every time I ran into trouble, I’d soon run out of clients.

Eventually Captain Rallee let me go, with the warning that he’d be down on me like a bad spell if I found myself in the vicinity of any more corpses on his beat. After assuring him that I’d endeavour to stay well clear of anyone dead, I took a hurried breakfast at the Avenging Axe and headed off to see Lisutaris. By the time I reach the front door—a very fancy affair, with a portal, engravings and gold fittings—I’m madder than a mad dragon and relishing the opportunity of batting some minion out of the way. Unfortunately the door is answered by a servant I’ve met several times previously, and she ushers me straight in.

“I’ll tell the Mistress you’re here,” she says, politely, and vanishes before I can think of a reason to fire off an angry retort.

I’m in a room overlooking the grounds at the back of the villa. Vast, extensive gardens. More trees, flowers, bushes and landscaped pathways than a man would know what to do with, plus private fish pools and an orchard which Lisutaris treats with sorcery to produce fresh fruit out of season. Last month she hosted a garden party for the city’s Elvish ambassadors. It was delightful. So I read anyway. There wasn’t any danger of me being invited.

The Mistress of the Sky drifts into the room. She’s smiling, slightly vacantly. Lisutaris always starts early with her water pipe.

“Thraxas. This is very quick work. Congratulations.”

“I don’t have the pendant.”

“You don’t?”

“No. But I have four dead bodies and an even closer acquaintance with the Civil Guard.”

I fill her in on yesterday’s events. She’s displeased to learn of my failure.

“So you don’t know who these men were?”

“I recognised one of them. Axaten. Petty thief, works the stadium, or used to before he got his throat cut. Might well be the person who stole the pendant. I didn’t know the other three and I don’t know who killed them. I was hoping you might tell me.”

Lisutaris looks blank.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you sent me to get back a jewel from a thief and I ended up in a slaughterhouse. Any idea why that might be?”

“No.”

“Do the words ‘I was on a beautiful golden ship’ mean anything to you?”

“No. Is it a quotation?”

“I don’t know. I never studied the great poets. But they were said to me by a dying man. I’ve seen plenty of dying men but no one ever used that particular phrase before.”

I look meaningfully at Lisutaris. She doesn’t like the meaning.

“Are you suggesting I may have withheld information from you?”

“Well, have you?”

Lisutaris rises from her chair.

“Thraxas. I appreciated your help during the election. But possibly our close contact at that time has left you with the erroneous impression that you’re free to come into my house and call me a liar. You are not.”

The Mistress of the Sky looks threatening. I tell her to calm down. She claps her hands and a servant enters carrying her thazis pipe on a tray.

“That’s calmer than I intended. Can’t you lay off that stuff for a single day?”

Lisutaris doesn’t deign to answer this. She makes me wait while she goes through the ritual of filling her pipe and lighting it. As she inhales for the first time, she rubs one gold-sandalled foot over the other, signifying pleasure, maybe.

“Surely there are any number of reasons why those men might have been killed? In a place like that?”

“True. Arguments among thieves can quickly turn murderous in Twelve Seas. But I don’t like it that they were killed while they just happened to be in possession of such a valuable item. You’re saying that no one knows what this jewel does, but the way it looks to me, someone does. Either the person who stole it, or whoever’s got it now. And that makes the whole thing a lot more difficult.”

“No one else could know the true value of that pendant.” Lisutaris is adamant. “Its use is known only to the King, his senior ministers and the head of the Sorcerers Guild.”

“Turai is corrupt from top to bottom. And there are a lot of people very well versed in digging out secrets, particularly when there’s a profit involved. How about your own household?”

“No one here knew of the pendant’s true purpose, apart from my secretary, who knows all my affairs and is entirely trustworthy.”

“I’d like to talk to her.”

Lisutaris shakes her head.

“You will not speak to my secretary. You may take it from me that she is not a suspect in this matter.”

Lisutaris draws deeply on the thazis pipe. It was bad enough losing the pendant to a petty thief. If it’s ended up in the hands of some gang who’ll sell it to the highest bidder she’s in big trouble, especially if the highest bidder turns out to be one of the Orcish nations. She pulls a slender cord that hangs by the door, summoning a servant.

“I will locate the jewel again and you must retrieve it immediately.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring someone else in? Palace security, for instance? Maybe it’s time to let the Consul know what’s happened.”

“If Kalius finds out about this he’ll be down on me like a bad spell. I’m not ready to be expelled from the city just yet.”

A servant arrives carrying a golden bowl of an inky-black liquid, kuriya. In this pool a good Sorcerer can often see versions of events both past and present. I’ve used it myself, with difficulty. These days I find it very hard to reach the required levels of concentration. Such is Lisutaris’s power that she requires no preparation. She simply flutters her hand over the liquid and a picture starts to form.

“Another tavern,” mutters the Sorceress. “The Mermaid. Do you know it?”

“I do. And it’s probably bad news. The Mermaid is run by the Brotherhood.”

“So?”

“Getting a jewel back from that organisation is a lot harder than getting it back from a petty thief. Still, there’s always the chance that they really don’t know what they’re handling. If it’s just ended up there as a result of some argument among thieves rather than been taken there as an item of great value, I still might be able to retrieve it. Might mean making a larger payment, but if I pretend it’s a family heirloom which the owner is desperate to get back, there’s no reason for them not to believe me. I know Casax, the local boss. He might be willing to sell me the jewel. He knows I’m not going to report the matter to the authorities.”

Lisutaris summons another servant and instructs her to bring me a bag of fifty guran pieces.

“Get it back. No matter what it costs.”

I notice that some workers have arrived in the garden outside and are putting up a large marquee.

“Preparations for the masked ball?”

Lisutaris nods.

“I must have the pendant back before the ball. I am certain that the Consul will ask about it. Did Makri get her invitation?”

“What?”

“Her invitation,” repeats Lisutaris.

“You invited Makri?”

“Yes. After all, she did excellent service for me as my bodyguard at the Sorcerers Assemblage. I felt she deserved some further reward. In addition I have promised to introduce her to the Professor of Mathematics at the Imperial University.”

“What for? Nothing is going to make the University take Makri as a student.”

“Probably not,” agrees Lisutaris. “However, she will enjoy the ball.”

I stare out at the huge marquee. The workers, efficient in a way you rarely see in Twelve Seas, have already got it into shape and are carrying in tables, chairs and candlesticks. The servant returns with my bag of gold coins. Another servant leads me out to the carriage Lisutaris is providing for my journey.

The situation with the pendant is now extremely serious. It’s going to take some clever work to retrieve it. However, I’m not thinking about this. I’m thinking about the gross injustice of Makri, Barbarian gladiator who hardly knows how to use a fork or a spoon, being invited to Lisutaris’s smart party. No sign of an invitation for me, of course. Don’t worry about Thraxas. He’ll slog his way round town, fighting criminals and facing danger to get you out of a hole. He’ll sit around in a Guards’ cell for six hours, protecting your good name. Doesn’t mean you have to invite him to your party. I’m quite happy drinking in the Avenging Axe in Twelve Seas with the rest of the struggling masses. Damn Lisutaris. I never liked the woman.

South of the river, my driver starts getting nervous. His duties for Lisutaris don’t normally take him to this sort of place. In the sweltering heat it seems to take for ever to work our way through the heavy traffic of wagons on their way to the harbour. When he finally offloads me in Twelve Seas, he spurs his horses and departs as swiftly as he can, pleased to be on his way.

“Thanks for the lift,” I mutter, and head into the Avenging Axe. Urgent business or not, I can’t visit the Mermaid before eating something. I could do with a beer as well. Lisutaris broke out the wine for me, but these fine Elvish vintages don’t satisfy a man.

Outside the tavern I again run into Moxalan. He’s in conversation with old Parax, the shoemaker.

“Was there much of a bloodbath?” asks Parax, which is quite an odd question.

I shrug.

“Many deaths?”

“That’s private business. And what do you care?”

“We’re concerned about you,” says Parax.

If old Parax is concerned about me, it’s the first I’ve heard about it. I wonder what the bookmaker’s son is still hanging around for. He must have got his architecture notes by now. Possibly he’s come back to see Makri again, poor fool that he is.

Suddenly violent shouting erupts from inside the tavern. I hurry in to find the place in chaos. Makri, axe in hand, is attempting to leave while Gurd and Tanrose are trying to hold her back. Several tables are overturned and the lunchtime drinkers are cowering in the corners. From the look of things I’d say it’s been quite a struggle. Makri is a demon in a sword fight, but Gurd’s a strong man and he’s managed to drag Makri to a halt. Not wishing to actually kill her employer, she twists round to face him.

“Gurd, I’m warning you. Let go of me now.”

Despite her skinny frame and Gurd’s immense strength, Makri is quite capable of beating him in combat if she gets angry enough to use her weapons. Gurd knows this. He doesn’t let go. I hurry forward and force my way in between them.

“What the hell is going on?”

“She’s going to kill everyone at the Guild College,” explains Tanrose.

I blink.

“What?”

“You heard her,” snarls Makri, and wrenches herself free to head for the door. I hurl myself after her.

“Makri. Come back. It’s only an examination. Don’t take it so personally.”

“It’s not the examination,” growls Makri, and disappears through the door.

I look to Gurd for an explanation.

“She’s been expelled for theft,” he says.

I rush out into the street. In these circumstances Makri really will slaughter everyone. Damn the woman and her temper, I don’t have time for this. I catch up with her on the corner, trampling over a beggar who picked this unfortunate moment to accost her.

“Makri, instead of marching up Quintessence Street waving your axe, how about telling me what’s going on?”

Makri halts. There’s a look of murderous rage in her eyes I haven’t seen since the last time I insulted her ears.

“Some money went missing from the students’ common room. Professor Toarius says I took it. He’s expelled me. Now get out of my way while I go and kill him.”

“What do you mean, he says you took it? Was there an investigation?”

“So he claims. Get out of my way.”

“Stop telling me to get out of the way. Don’t you think it might be better for someone to sort this out rather than you just killing the Professor? They’ll arrest you and hang you.”

“No they won’t. I’ll kill everyone who tries and then I’ll leave the city.”

“Well, that would be an alternative plan.”

A dog starts sniffing round Makri’s ankles. She kicks it. It goes away whimpering. The way Makri is brandishing her axe it’s lucky to still have its head.

Despite the fact that Makri is barbaric, annoying and unreasonable, not to mention part Orc, she’s one of the very few friends I have in this city. And while I’m not going to come out and admit it in public, she’s been a lot of help in some of my recent cases. I’d possibly regret it if she was hanged.

“Tell me what happened.”

Makri screws up her face. Not hastening to kill someone who’s accused her of theft is taking a lot of effort.

“I went in to college this morning. For my class in rhetoric. I had to go to the common room to leave my bag because I had two knives with me and they don’t let me take them into class.”

“Why did you have two knives with you?”

“Why not?”

“Foolish question. Go on.”

“There are some lockers. I have a key. I locked my knives away then I went to my class. We were learning how to make a speech in court. About halfway through the lesson a student came in and said the Professor wanted to see me. Which was unusual. Normally he tries to avoid me. So I went along to his office and he said that another student had lost some money from the common room and I’d been seen taking it! And then he expelled me!”

Makri’s voice has been rising throughout this and as she finishes she’s almost overcome with emotion. People stare at us, though not as much as they would have a year or so ago. The sight of Makri walking along Quintessence Street heavily armed is something the locals have become used to. As a woman with Orcish blood she’s not exactly popular, but people know better than to get in her way.

“Makri. Go home. I’ll fix things. I know the Professor has it in for you. No doubt after the money went missing he was keen to jump to conclusions.”

“How dare he accuse me of theft!”

It is unjust. Makri is relentlessly honest. Gets me down at times.

“Yes, how dare he. But do you really want to be chased out of the city? After all the work you’ve done here? What about your plan to go to the Imperial University?”

“You laugh at that plan. Everybody laughs at it.”

I’m starting to feel frustrated. At this moment I should be recovering a valuable jewel for Lisutaris, not helping a waitress with her career options.

“Of course I laugh at it. It’s impossible. But you’ve managed to do other impossible things since you arrived, so what the hell, maybe you’ll manage this one. So stop threatening to kill your professor, and come back into the Avenging Axe. I’ll go to the College, find out what’s going on, and sort it out.”

Makri stares at me for a long time. It’s alien to her nature to let another person fix a problem for her.

“Lisutaris is planning to introduce you to a professor at the university,” I point out.

“Can you fix it today?” demands Makri.

“I can try.”

“If you fix it today then it’s okay. If not, I swear I’ll kill Toarius tomorrow, and every other person at the college if I feel like it.”

Makri spins on her heel to march back into the tavern. Then, as if remembering something, she spins round again.

“What’s happening on the case you’re working on?”

“It’s gone bad.”

“Anyone dead?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

I stare at her.

“What do you mean, how many?”

“I just wondered.”

“Four, if you must know. Why is everyone suddenly interested in my business?”

Makri marches back into the tavern. Not having had the chance to fill up on beer, I follow her. I head for the bar with a determined expression on my face, warning everyone to stay out of my path. Unfortunately this has no effect on Dandelion, who appears from nowhere and practically throws herself in front of me.

“I have terrible news,” she wails.

“If it’s something to do with the stars, I’m not interested.”

“You must listen!”

“Can it wait till I get a beer?”

Apparently not. There’s no putting the woman off. Dandelion is practically jumping up and down in her frenzied eagerness to tell me something.

“They’re betting on the result. Even though I told them it was wrong.”

She’s lost me completely here.

“What are you talking about?”

“Everyone is laying bets on how many deaths there are going to be in the case you’re working on! It’s because I warned you there was going to be a bloodbath! A bookmaker has been here and they’re taking bets!”

“Dandelion!” says Makri, loudly. “Don’t distract Thraxas with your fanciful stories. He’s a busy man.”

“She gets these strange ideas,” says Gurd, and looks guilty.

I stare at the pair of them.

“Is this true?”

“First I’ve heard about it,” says Makri. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to the College to clear me of theft?”

“That can wait. I wondered why you were so keen to know the exact body count.”

Makri contrives to look innocent.

“I wouldn’t place a bet on such a tragedy as four deaths,” she says, in a dignified manner.

“Four?”

It’s Parax, who’s been listening in the background. “Did you say four? Already?”

He turns to Moxalan.

“I want to raise my bet.”

There are some mutters of interest from various onlookers who seem to be heavily involved already.

“We could be looking at double figures,” says one of them.

I’m furious.

“Is the whole tavern in on this? I can’t believe you’d all stoop so low!” I cry, taking in Gurd, Makri and the assembled lowlifes in one sweeping stare.

“Couldn’t you just have stayed quiet, you idiot?” says Makri to Dandelion.

“Don’t pick on Dandelion,” I roar. “She’s the only honest person in the place. Makri, I’m appalled at you.”

A vocal faction want to know if it’s true that the Sorcerers Guild has declared war on the Brotherhood.

“If they start throwing spells around we could be talking about fifty deaths. Maybe more.”

“If Thraxas gets killed, do we keep on counting?” demands Parax of Moxalan.

“No. It’s clearly stated in the rules that Thraxas’s death ends the body count.”

“What rules?” I demand.

“The rules of the contest. Hey, don’t look at me like that, Thraxas. I’m a bookmaker’s son. Just because I’m going to college doesn’t mean I’ve left the business.”

I shake my head. Sweat is pouring down my tunic. I never expected to find any trace of ethics among the clientele of the Avenging Axe, but even I’m surprised at this. It’s immoral. Taking bets on how many deaths there are going to be in my current case? What’s that going to do for my reputation?

I curse everyone roundly. So irate am I that I actually march out of the tavern without picking up a beer and I can’t remember the last time I did that. I need to get to the Mermaid to recover the pendant as quickly as possible, so I set off at a brisk pace, promising myself that I’ll have more than a few harsh words for Makri and Gurd when I get back.

Youthful dwa dealers hover round the alleyway that leads to the Mermaid. Close by are customers in various states of consciousness. Even in the open air the heavy aroma of burning dwa is easily discernible. The situation with this narcotic has now got completely out of hand. Ten years ago the local youths would have been stealing fruit from the market. Now they’re knifing strangers in the back for a few gurans. The violence of the gangs that control the trade has increased in proportion to the profits involved. The huge increase in illegal profits has led to city-wide corruption on unheard-of levels. Turai is a mess. It’s not just the Orcs we need protecting from.

Lisutaris hired me to retrieve her pendant. I’ve failed once and I don’t intend to fail again. I march towards the Mermaid ready to look Casax, the Brotherhood boss, squarely in the eye and demand the return of the jewel. This doesn’t work out so well. Before I reach the door it bursts open and Casax, Karlox and about twenty of their associates rush out of the building, pursued by smoke and flames. The Mermaid is about to burn to the ground. I shake my head. It’s turning into another really bad day.

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