Thraxas and the Elvish Isles

Chapter Eight

By the time we reach the ground about fifty Elves are standing in a circle between the large pool and the towering Hesuni Tree, and they’re making enough noise to wake Old King Kiben. Camith hangs back but I barge my way through. Standing forlornly in the centre of the circle is a tall young female Elf I take to be Elith-ir-Methet. Lying next to her is another Elf, this one dead, with blood seeping from an ugly wound in his chest.

Elith is holding a blood-stained knife.

“Elith-ir-Methet has killed the Tree Priest,” say the Elves over and over again, horror and incredulity in their voices.

Things are looking worse for my client.

The surrounding Elves seem at a loss. No one is making any moves to drag the culprit away, examine the body, or do anything really. I stride forward.

“Thraxas,” I announce. “Investigator, guest of Lord Kalith.”

I examine the body. The light is fading and I’m not as familiar with deceased Elves as I am with murdered Humans, but I’d say he’s only been dead for a matter of minutes.

“Did you do this?” I ask Elith.

She shakes her head. Then she faints. I curse. I was hoping for a little more information. Three tall Elves wearing the nine-starred insignia of Lord Kalith’s household arrive on the scene and start to take control. When the crowd apprises them of the facts one of them departs immediately, presumably to inform Kalith of events, while the other two pick up Elith. Her long golden hair trails to the grass as they start to carry her away.

“Where are you taking her?” I demand.

They decline to answer. I follow them. The crowd troops along in our wake and I lose sight of Camith. I notice that one Elf in particular seems to be doing a lot of wailing, something about his poor brother. Before we reach the great wooden ladders that lead up to Kalith’s Tree Palace more of his household appear. While their manner holds none of the undisguised hostility that the Civil Guards in Turai would display in similar circumstances, they make it clear that this matter is now in the hands of their Lord and the crowd is not to advance any further.

“Thraxas of Turai,” I say imperiously as they bar my way. “Assistant to Deputy Consul Cicerius.”

I try to look important. It gets me through. My weight can lend me a certain grandeur. Elith is carried up the ladder and I climb up right behind her.

We ascend a long way, past platforms decorated with carvings of eagles intertwined with ivy and woven with streamers of golden leaves. The trees that support the Palace seem to reach up forever and my limbs are aching by the time we reach the top. As we clamber on to the final platform Kalith is there to greet us.

His attendants place Elith in front of him. She stirs. Lord Kalith glares down at her.

“You have killed Gulas-ar-Thetos, Priest of the Hesuni Tree!”

Elith blinks, and makes no reply. She appears dazed, maybe just from shock, but maybe from something else. Her pupils seem to me to be dilated, though with Elves it’s hard to tell, the whole race generally having such big eyes anyway.

“Well, so it is alleged,” I say, moving to her side. “But nothing has been proved against her.”

The Elf Lord is positively displeased to see me. “Leave my Palace.”

“I never desert a client. And shouldn’t someone be getting her a healer? She looks as if she could do with some attention.”

“What sort of attention did she give my brother?” roars an Elf behind us, and he makes an effort to rush at Elith. His companions restrain him.

I don’t like this at all. My client is surrounded by a horde of hostile Elves and the ruler of the island seems in no mood to listen to pleas on her behalf. Simply because Elves have a reputation as just and tolerant, it doesn’t mean that Kalith won’t decide that the best thing to do with the murderess is to throw her off the highest platform and have done with it. I’m relieved when Vas-ar-Methet arrives. He doesn’t do much except stand there looking anguished, but I figure that his daughter is at least less liable to summary justice with him in the picture.

Kalith orders Elith to be taken to a secure place and guarded well. He allows Vas to go with her, to minister to her sickness, then tells his guards to bring him witnesses to the event so that he can have the full story from people who saw what happened. Then he orders me to get out of his sight.

I depart without an argument. I could do with talking to some witnesses myself. I’m about to fortify myself with klee for the journey back down the ladders when I get a mental image of the Elf falling from the rigging, so I put the flask away and make the descent sober.

Back at the Hesuni Tree the crowd is still gathered. A few of them are wearing the white robes that denote their status as actors.

“More evil has befallen us,” moans an Elf to her friends, and they moan back in agreement.

I can understand why they’re upset. If the most important religious official in the land has to get murdered, you really don’t want it to be right at the moment you have a host of foreign guests to impress. No wonder Lord Kalith is furious. That, however, is a problem for the Elves. My problem is gathering information and clearing Elith’s name. Unless she turns out to be irredeemably guilty, in which case I’ve a jail break to plan. For desecrating the Hesuni Tree, Elith was facing banishment. For murder of the Tree Priest, she’s facing execution. I will not allow Elith to be convicted of murder. For one thing, I owe her father. For another, Lord Kalith has really started to annoy me.

I introduce myself to a group of Elves and ask them if anyone actually saw Elith sticking the knife into Gulas-ar-Thetos. They don’t know. It all happened before they arrived on the scene. The next group gives me a similar reply. Some Elf—no one knows quite who—arrived to find Gulas dead and Elith lying beside him with a knife in her hand.

I’m hindered in my investigations by the activities of the Elves sent by Kalith to gather witnesses, and more than once I’m just about to question someone when he or she is hustled off to the Tree Palace, but at least the attendants don’t send me away, or threaten me with arrest. As darkness falls I’ve learned about as much as I can and I decide it’s time to talk to Vas-ar-Methet. I head back towards the Tree Palace but in the gloom I bump into an Elf coming the other way. He raises his head and beneath the hood I see a face I recognise. It’s Gorith-ar-Del, and he doesn’t look any happier to see me now than he did during the voyage.

“Interfering again?” he demands.

I decline to answer, but as I hurry away I’m struck by the murderous look he had in his eyes. There is an Elf who hasn’t been spending much time singing in the trees. There’s something about him that doesn’t quite add up and I make a mental note to check him out later.

Back at the ladders that lead up to the Tree Palace I have the good fortune to arrive just after Prince Dees-Akan and his entourage. The guards part to let them through and I hurry after as if I’m part of the official party. Making the climb for the second time tonight I develop the strong conviction that it is a mistake to live up in the trees. My limbs wouldn’t take too much of this. Prince Dees-Akan catches sight of me.

“Were you invited to the Tree Palace?” he demands.

“Yes, your highness,” I lie, and saunter past. The doormen look doubtful. An Elf with drooping shoulders and downcast gaze comes towards us and I march past crying out Vas’s name.

“I’m here. Take me to the patient.”

I grasp the startled Vas-ar-Methet’s arm and steer us through to the first courtyard.

“Where is she?”

“Thraxas, it is all so terrible, I cannot—”

I interrupt him impatiently. “Never mind that just now. Just take me to her. If I don’t get to speak to her now I might never get the chance.”

Vas nods. Back in the War he wasn’t an Elf to hang around dithering when action was needed. He leads me through the courtyard and up another ladder to a higher platform. From there a walkway stretches over most of the length of the Palace. Lord Kalith’s attendants are dotted around, but no one tries to get in the healer’s way.

“She’s being held in a building at the back of the Palace. I can get us close, but I doubt they’ll let you in.”

“I’ll think of something.”

We are now high above the Palace, further from the ground than I would wish to be. I look down at the blanket of trees below us, and imagine how easily I would plummet down through them if I lost my footing. We reach the end of the walkway and descend into another courtyard, this one darker and less ornate than those at the front of the building. Vas points to a door in front of which three Elves are stationed, each of them armed. These are the first Elves I’ve seen on Avula to carry swords openly.

“They are guarding Elith,” whispers Vas. “I didn’t want to leave her, but Lord Kalith sent word that I was to be dismissed before he came to question her himself.”

“Where is he now?”

“Hearing the accounts of those who witnessed the affair. I imagine that he will be here before long. The death of our Tree Priest is a catastrophic event, Thraxas. I will not wish to continue living if my daughter is found to be guilty of his murder.”

“Well, don’t do anything rash,” I tell him. “I’m going in.”

The guards challenge me. I speak the one solitary spell I’m carrying with me, the sleep spell. It works well, as it always does. The three guards sink gently to the ground. Vas-ar-Methet gasps in amazement at my action.

“You worked a spell on Lord Kalith’s guards?”

“What were you expecting? A few cunning lies? I need to see Elith and I need to see her now.”

“But when Kalith—”

I don’t stay around to listen to the rest but hurry into the cell, where Elith is sitting on a wooden chair, gazing out of the barred window.

I greet her and introduce myself as a friend and wartime companion of her father.

“Why are you here?”

“Your father hired me to investigate the damage to the Hesuni Tree. He says you’re innocent, so I believe him. Now there are a few more things I have to deal with. Fine, I’ll deal with them. Tell me everything and make it quick. What happened to the Tree and what’s the story of you not remembering anything? How did you escape from prison, and why were you found with the knife right beside the dead Priest?”

Elith is taken aback. Since the ministrations of her father she’s looking healthier but, not surprisingly, she’s extremely distracted. I look her straight in the eyes and tell her to snap out of it.

“There’s no time for rambling, so get to the point. Lord Kalith is on his way here; three of his guards are outside sleeping off a spell, thanks to me, and he’s not going to be very pleased about it. So in the brief time we’ve got I need to know everything. Don’t sigh, don’t cry and don’t stray from the point. Just tell it like it happened.”

At this, Elith-ir-Methet manages a weak smile.

“I remember Father speaking of you now,” she says. “You appear in many of his war stories. It was good of you to come. But really, you can do nothing to help me.”

“I can. Tell me about the Tree. Did you damage it?”

She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think so. But I might have. I really can’t remember. They said I did it.”

“Who said?”

“Gulas, the Tree Priest. And his brother Lasas.”

“Why can’t you remember?”

She looks blank and tells me she just can’t. Already I’m starting to dislike her as a client.

“What were you doing near the Tree?”

“Just walking. We live nearby.”

I’d like to question her plenty more about this, but time is short and there’s the murder to consider.

“How did you get out of your cell tonight?”

“I wasn’t in a cell. Kalith had merely confined me to a room in the Palace and I gave my word I would not try to leave.”

“So why did you change your mind?”

She shrugs. I grow impatient.

“Is this hopeless-Elf-maiden routine the best you can do? You realise how much trouble you’re in?”

Elith just sits there: tall, slender, golden-haired and apparently suffering from a severe attack of amnesia. I ask her what happened after she left the Palace.

“I descended to the forest and went to the Hesuni Tree.”

“What for?”

“I wanted to see Gulas-ar-Thetos. It was he who was my main accuser in the matter of damaging the Tree.”

She stops. Tears start to trickle down her pale face.

“What happened then?”

There’s no reply. I change tack. “Your cousin Eos-ar-Methet died on the voyage from Turai to Avula. Were you friendly with him?”

Elith is startled. “No,” she says. “Well, yes, I knew him. Why?”

“Because I’m wondering about his death. You know any reason he might have been acting strangely?”

Elith goes quiet, and I’m fairly certain she’s hiding something. I ask her again what happened when she left the Palace earlier this evening.

“She killed Gulas, that’s what happened,” roars a voice as the door flies open and Lord Kalith marches in, flanked by four Elves with swords.

“How dare you interrupt an Investigator in private conference with his client?” I roar back. “Have you no idea of the due process of law on Avula?”

Kalith strides up to me and puts his face near mine, which involves some bending over on his part. His men meanwhile surround me and point their swords in my direction.

“Are you responsible for putting my guards to sleep?” he demands.

“Guards? I didn’t see any guards. Just wide open space and a comfy cell at the end. Now would you mind giving me a little time alone with my client? I really must insist—”

The attendants make to grab me. Not wishing to be grabbed, I step back quickly and prepare to defend myself. Elith prevents an ugly scene by laying her hand on my arm.

“Stop,” she says, quite softly. “I appreciate your trying to help me, Thraxas, but you can do nothing for me. Lord Kalith is right. I did kill Gulas-ar-Thetos.”

“Disregard that statement,” I say quickly. “The woman is under stress and doesn’t know what’s she’s saying.”

“She knows very well what she is saying,” retorts Kalith. “She murdered our Priest. Three Elves witnessed the event. At this moment they are giving sworn statements to my scribes.”

It’s a bad turn of events but, as people have been known to say in Twelve Seas, Thraxas never abandons a client.

“Witnesses have been known to make mistakes,” I point out.

Kalith smiles, which surprises me. He’s regained his composure.

“Thraxas, I could almost like you, were you not such a buffoon. One certainly has to admire your persistence. You enter my Palace without an invitation, you sneak over to this cell and you put three of my guards to sleep with a spell. You question Elith-ir-Methet against my express wishes. Then, despite the fact that she admits the crime, and that there are independent witnesses to testify that she is guilty, you persist in standing here blustering about client-Investigator privileges. You have never thought me sympathetic to your case, but believe me, if my trusted healer Vas-ar-Methet had not spoken so highly of the character you showed during the Orc Wars, I would never have even allowed you on board my ship. And he was right, in some ways at least. He told me that you were disinclined to give up on anything you started. An admirable trait in time of war, but not so now. Elith is guilty. Nothing you can do will change that fact. And you must now leave it to me to dispense justice, as is my right and duty.”

I protest, but he holds up his hand, forbidding further speech, and gestures to his guards. “Enough, Thraxas. These Elves will escort you from the Palace. No doubt we will meet again at the festival.”

And that, for the moment, is that. The four armed Elves escort me out of the cell, along the courtyard, back up to the high walkways, and out of the Palace.

Once back on the ground, I turn towards the Hesuni Tree, having no intention of going home just yet. The large clearing is now empty of life. Light from the moons reflects from the still water of the twin pools and the Hesuni Tree stands majestically at the far end of the water. I decide to take a look at the Tree, and march over.

To me it looks like any other large tree. I can’t pick up any traces of its spiritual power, but that’s only to be expected, me being Human rather than Elf, and not very spiritual. I can’t sense any sign of sorcery in the air either. I can’t learn anything, in fact. Studying the grass in the area where Gulas lay dying reveals nothing except that a lot of Elves have since walked all over it.

“Are you looking for something that will save Elith?”

It can be annoying the way these Elves approach without making a sound. I whirl round and lift my staff, illuminating an Elf by the Tree.

“Lasas-ar-Thetos?”

He bows slightly. I wonder at him being here on his own. As his brother has just been murdered, I might have expected him to be comforting the family, or mourning, or something.

“I must assume my new position and minister to the tree,” he says, as if in answer to my thoughts.

“Why did Elith kill your brother?”

“She is insane. We knew it from the moment she damaged the Tree.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I believe so. Now, please, leave me. I must communicate with the Tree.”

“Yeah, I guess the Tree must be pretty upset, with all this going on. Do you know Gorith-ar-Del?”

Lasas scowls at me, frustrated by my persistence.

“No,” he replies. “I do not.”

It seems to me that Lasas is lying. I’m about to question him further when he starts chanting softly, his eyes closed, his head swaying gently from side to side. Torchlight and voices from the other side of the clearing announce the arrival of some Elves from the Palace. I depart. It feels like a long walk back to Camith’s house. I climb wearily up to my temporary dwelling and find Makri sitting in my room, studying a scroll.

“How’s the case going?” she asks.

“Getting difficult,” I confess. “Elith-ir-Methet has just been accused of murdering the Tree Priest.”

I haul my boots off. “And I still can’t find any beer. I think the Elves are hiding it from me out of spite.”

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