Thraxas and the Oracle

Chapter Seventeen

I notice our Commander glancing at the thazis stick in Makri’s hand and the bottle of wine in mine. “We were just discussing my investigation.”

Lisutaris frowns. “Have you ever gone through a day without a bottle or flagon in your hand?”

“Eight days at sea, without beer, in a leaky boat, Commander. After I rescued you from Turai.”

Lisutaris smiles, which is a surprise, given her recent hostility. “I should probably be grateful it’s your only vice,” she says. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a bag of thazis, rolling herself a stick with dexterity born of long practice.

“I don’t think you can say that drinking is Thraxas’s only vice,” says Makri. “You’d have to mention gluttony as well. And gambling. He really has a problem with gambling.”

“I’ve come to talk to you about something important - ” begins Lisutaris.

“Then there’s the bad language. And what about his laziness? Sometimes you just can’t move him, no matter what.

“You forgot my tendency to violence,” I growl.

“You see? Drinking, gambling, violence, It’s just one thing after another. I really don’t see how you can say that drinking is Thraxas’s only vice. It’s just not an accurate description of the man.”

Lisutaris purses her lips. “I believe you’ve made your point, Ensign Makri. If I might be allowed to speak?”

“Of course, Commander.”

Lisutaris nudges Droo awake with her toe. “Junior Ensign Sendroo, go outside, get Anumaris, and make sure no one listens to my conversation in here.”

The young Elf nods, and departs swiftly. Lisutaris waves her hand briefly and mutters a spell.

“What was that?”

“To prevent anyone listening in. We can’t be too careful.” The Sorceress inhales deeply from her thazis stick. “I’ve just been in discussion with Legate Apiroi. I’d rather not have been, but he sent me a message I couldn’t ignore. Apparently the Legate has learned I went to the oracle.”

“How?”

“He wouldn’t say. I presume Deeziz was behind it. She seems to have a talent for sending anonymous messages and sowing discord. Apiroi thinks he has me in a tough spot. He’s threatened to tell King Lamachus about my visit unless I promote him to my command council.”

“That’s outrageous!” cries Makri. “He can’t blackmail you! You’re War Leader.”

“Apiroi seems capable of anything. He’s one of the most ambitious reptiles I’ve ever encountered. He’s determined to take over as leader of the Niojan faction, and if he’s after my position as well, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Lisutaris pauses to inhale from her thazis stick. “All in all, it was a difficult meeting.”

“What are you going to do?” asks Makri.

“I told him I’d consider his proposal.”

“How long will that hold him off for?”

“Long enough for me to deal with the situation.”

“How are you planning to deal with it?” I enquire.

Lisutaris exhales a stream of thazis smoke. “That’s not something I can tell you. But I will deal with it.”

I notice that the sorceress seems relatively composed, given the possible gravity of her position. I wonder what she means when she says she’ll deal with it.

“However that’s not really why I’m here,” says Lisutaris. “I’ve come to tell you that I have to leave camp again, in secret. Tonight.”

“The Niojans are arriving tonight.”

Lisutaris nods. “That makes it awkward. I should be here to greet their leaders. Nonetheless, I have to make an excursion.”

“Why?”

“The High Priestess of Vitina is bringing me my Oracle.”

“What?” I almost explode. “That’s insane. You’ve just told us that Legate Apiroi is trying to blackmail you about your last visit. Now you want to see the High Priestess again?”

“It is unfortunate timing. That’s why I’m keeping it secret. No one will know apart from you and Makri. Neither of you are Deeziz. After eight days on a boat together, I know you too well. I never thought I’d be grateful for that.”

Makri is agitated. “Lisutaris, “ she begins, forgetting to call her Commander, as she normally would. “I don’t think this is a good idea. It’s far too dangerous. Last time Deeziz ambushed us. It could happen again.”

“What if we run into the whole Orcish Army? We don’t even know where they are.”

“The fact that we can’t locate the Orcish army is a good reason for going. I’m hoping the High Priestess might have some news for me. She sent me a message that my Oracle is ready, and I need to have it.”

I remain firmly against the idea. “Can’t she come here and give you it in person?”

“The High Priestess would not come near the Niojans, who outlawed her religion. Or any of the true Church officials who travel with the army.”

“Well I’d hate to inconvenience her. But I think she might make the effort. Couldn’t she send a letter?”

“No. The oracle must be delivered in person, in an appropriate place. I’m going to meet her in a small temple of the Goddess Vitina, not far from here. It’s deserted these days, but still suitable for the transmission of a prophesy. It’s quite an honour. The High Priestess does not normally make journeys.”

I put the wine bottle to my mouth. It’s empty. Makri passes me her thazis stick. “Commander, this is a really bad idea. As your Personal Security officer, I advise against it. We fought the Orcs together fifteen years ago. We were on the same wall in Turai when it collapsed. I know what I’m talking about when it comes to Orcs, and security. Don’t leave the army and wander off on your own.”

Lisutaris is inhaling from another thazis stick. The wagon is thick with pungent smoke.

“Sorry, Thraxas, “she says. “I do value your opinion. But we’re going.”

“If Legate Apiroi does tell people that you visited the oracle, and then you do it again, the Niojans won’t follow you as War Leader,” says Makri.

“I know. But I need the High Priestess’s prophesy. The Goddess Vitina is more important to me than the Niojans.”

“Is it reasonable to expect me to meet that High Priestess again? Last time she told me I’d throw down my shield and flee. I’m still insulted.”

Lisutaris shrugs. “Maybe your prophesy will work out well?”

“How can throwing down my shield and fleeing work out well?”

“No matter. We’re going. The three of us. Tonight. Don’t mention it to anyone else. I’ll make sure we leave the camp unseen.”

I’m dead set against it, but there’s nothing to be done. Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, War Leader, Commander, and Head of the Western Sorcerers Guild, has made up her mind to ride off into the wilds and meet this fraudulent High Priestess.

“I anticipate disaster,” I mutter.

Lisutaris reaches into her bag. It’s a small, stylish bag, but it contains a magic pocket, which can carry anything. She brings out a bottle of beer. “I brought you this.”

I take the beer and open the bottle. “This isn’t enough to make up for it.”

“It’s all you’re going to get.” She inhales from her thazis, and sits back against the side of the wagon. “Not such a bad wagon you have here. It’s peaceful after my command tent. I’m already fatigued with generals, diplomats and senior sorcerers.”

Lisutaris’s spell for ensuring that we’re not overheard seems to block off all sound from the outside. We sit in silence for a few minutes, drinking beer and smoking thazis. Lisutaris relaxes a little. She looks up at Makri.

“That idiot Kublinos has been parading round my command tent with his Elvish sorceress again. Or so-called sorceress. From what I hear, she doesn’t have much power. Do you think she’s attractive?”

“No,” says Makri, showing more tact than normal. Lisutaris turns to me. “Do you think she’s attractive?”

“I haven’t seen her.”

“You must have. Kublinos is always walking round with her like she’s some great catch. You’d think he was the only human sorcerer ever to attract an Elf. With fading looks. And virtually no power. I doubt she even belongs in the Sorcerers Guild. Probably she only was admitted due to family influence. What he sees in her, I have no idea. She has peculiar eyes. Did you notice how strange her eyes are?”

“Really strange,” says Makri.

“I don’t see how you can have missed her, Thraxas. Just look for the female Elvish sorcerer with funny eyes, no magical power, and very poor dress sense. You’d recognise her right away. She’s always trailing round after Kublinos. I almost feel sorry for him.”

“I thought you didn’t care about Kublinos?”

Lisutaris’s eyes flash. “Of course I don’t care about Kublinos! What makes you think I do?”

“The way you keep going on about him and his new lady friend?”

“Absolute nonsense. Makri, has anything I’ve said given you the remotest impression that I’m at all bothered about Kublinos?”

“No, Commander.” Makri, who has never shown the slightest tact in regards to me, has obviously learned how to use some discretion around our War Leader.

“The fact is,” continues Lisutaris. “Kublinos is obviously obsessed with me. He never stops parading around with that woman in tow, as if it’s going to upset me. It’s childish behaviour. I’m astonished at his immaturity.” She rises to her feet. “Meet me in my tent at two in the morning. Don’t mention it to anyone else and don’t be late.”

With that, she departs. I look over at Makri. “Does this Elvish sorcerer really have funny eyes and poor dress sense?”

“No, she’s gorgeous,” says Makri. “But I wouldn’t advise saying that to Lisutaris.”

I sigh. “You see, this is why women shouldn’t go to war. Now we’re all going to die because Lisutaris is distracted by some man she claimed not to care for in the first place. As far as I can see, there’s only one female sorcerer who’s any good at sorcery, and she’s on the other side. I’ll wager that Deeziz the Unseen isn’t wasting her time complaining about some petty romantic disappointment.”

I’m not looking forward to tonight’s excursion. Damn that High Priestess. She could hardly be putting us in more danger if she was working for the enemy. Maybe she is working for the enemy. Oracles have been known to succumb to bribery. I gaze at my empty beer bottle. I have a feeling of impending doom, and one bottle of beer isn’t enough to shift it.