Martin Scott - Thraxas and the Ice Dragon

«Will you be entering your bodyguard in the tournament?» Baron Mabados asks Lisutaris.

«The thin woman?» says Lasat. «I doubt she'd want to trade blows with Elupus or Basinos.»

«My bodyguard is not keen on tournaments,» says Lisutaris, evenly.

«Quite wise,» replies Lasat. One wouldn't want to see her hurt.

The other Baron in attendance, who's name I don't know, sniggers at this. Lisutaris is discomfited. I'm angry.

«You can count yourselves lucky Makri isn't entering the tournament,» I say. «Or she'd show you who was number one chariot with a sword.»

My outburst only provokes more mirth.

«Is it really wise,» says Lasat to Mabados. «In these dangerous times, to engage the services of such an ineffectual bodyguard?»

Lisutaris is about to respond but she doesn't get the chance.

«I am entering the contest,» comes a voice from behind us. Makri has arrived.

«You are?» I say.

«Of course,» replies Makri, quite calmly, as if she meant to do so all along. «And when I win, people will see which Sorcerer has the best judgement in bodyguards.»

«Well put Makri,» says Lisutaris, «Now we really must be off. Good day, Baron, Lasat.»

We walk on.

«Thanks for doing that,» says Lisutaris. «I know you didn't want to enter the tournament.»

«I'm not letting them insult us like that,» says Makri.

«Lasat still thinks he can force me out of the Sorcerers Guild, and take over,» says Lisutaris. She pauses. I notice her fists are clenched. «Are we far from Arichdamis house? If I don't get some thazis soon I'm going to explode in a fireball which may destroy the entire town. Thraxas? Are you listening?»

«Of course he isn't listening,» says Makri. «He's dreaming about his betting campaign now I've entered the tournament.»

She's right. I can sense prosperous times ahead. Makri is going to sweep all opposition before her. If I can just raise a stake, I'll show these Samsarinan bookmakers a thing or two.

As we approach Arichdamis's house, Baroness Demelzos passes by on the other side of the road, in the company of two other well dressed women, both Baronesses, according to Lisutaris. Demelzos notices us, but barely acknowledges our presence.

«That was quite rude,» says Lisutaris. «Only a few hours ago we were sharing the same mineral bath.»

«But Thraxas wasn't there then,» Makri points out.

«True. You can't expect her to stop for a chat when Thraxas is around. There's no knowing what he might come out with.»

I ignore their mockery. It's the first time I've seen the Baroness since our unfortunate encounter in Orosis. Now I'm sober, Demelzos reminds me of someone, but I can't remember who.

Arichdamis's dwelling is far more modest than those of the Barons.

«I thought he'd have a bigger house,» says Makri.

«Probably he just sits and thinks most of the time.» I suggest. «No real need for a lot of space.»

Makri looks at me with contempt. «You have no idea of the extensive scientific interests of Arichdamis, have you?»

«No. And if you're about to tell me about them, don't bother.»

By this time Lisutaris is pulling on the chain by the door, ringing a bell inside. An elderly servant appears.

«Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, here to see Arichdamis on important business.» She sweeps past without waiting for an answer. The servant, displeased at this breach of etiquette, attempts to block her way. I hold him back, not wanting to see him reduced to a pile of ashes, which is quite likely if he gets in-between Lisutaris and a bag of thazis. The Sorceress disappears rapidly through the door at the end of the hallway. Makri hurries after her, and the servant follows them, leaving me on my own. The hallway is slightly seedy. Not decrepit, just neglected. Arichdamis obviously isn't a stickler for cleanliness and I doubt his servants do more than they have to. I glance into his private temple, in the middle of the house. It's bare, with only a small statue of Saint Quatinius. From the dust on the floor, I'd say that Arichdamis doesn't visit much. The next room is crammed full of books and papers. The desk is cluttered with drawings, plans for strange machines. As I stroll through the house I see nothing that's well-upholstered, colourful or cheerful. Just some functional furniture and a lot of books and papers. It's like a gigantic version of Makri's room back in Turai.

I find Lisutaris sitting on the grass behind the house, smoking thazis. It says something for her powers of persuasion that she managed to obtain the drug from the mathematician so quickly. Presumably, he wouldn't have been that keen to hand it over, but here she is, digging into his supply already. Arichdamis is talking quite intently to Makri.

«Yes, I've calculated pi to a value between three and one-seventh, and three and ten seventy-firsts.»

Makri looks excited. «Really? That's so accurate! Can I see your calculations?»

I leave them to it, and take a seat on the grass beside Lisutaris. I hold out my hand. She hands over a small fragment of thazis.

«Nice grounds,» I mutter. They are extensive, given that the house itself isn't large. They stretch a long way back, ending in a wooded slope that rises into the mountains. Lisutaris grunts, a sound I interpret to mean she doesn't care if the grounds are nice or not. I roll myself a small thazis stick and light it from hers. It's peaceful here in the garden; probably the first time we've been at peace since our city fell. We sit in silence for a long time. A few rays of sunlight penetrate the clouds overhead. It will soon be spring.

«Plants will start growing,» I mutter.

«Yes,» says Lisutaris.

«And we'll be marching off to war.»

«True.»

«I wonder how many times I've marched off to war?»

«There's a small dragon walking down the hill,» says Lisutaris.

This seems like an odd reply. «Eh… I'm not much good on symbolism. Does the small dragon represent us or the Orcs?»

«It doesn't represent anything. There really is a small dragon walking down the hill.»

I glance round, and immediately leap to my feet in alarm. As accurately reported by Lisutaris, a small dragon is ambling down the hill towards us. It's white, about the size of a very large dog, and it has a lot of teeth and talons. It makes straight for Makri and Arichdamis. I shout a warning. Makri catches sight of it and flies into action. She draws her twin swords, sinks into her fighting crouch and gets ready to defend herself. It takes me only a few seconds to reach her and I draw my own sword, ready to fight off the beast.

The dragon draws near to Makri, rolls on its back, then sort of wriggles towards her and starts licking her ankles. Makri looks down at it suspiciously.

«What is this vile beast?» she demands. «And why is it licking my ankles?»

«It's the King's baby ice dragon,» says Arichdamis. «I'm looking after it.»

«Why?»

«It's a scientific project. They've hardly ever been raised in captivity.»

«All right. But what about the ankle licking?»

«Maybe it thinks you're its mother?» I suggest.

Makri scowls. «I think I'm going to stab it.» She raises her sword.

«No!» yells Arichdamis. «This dragon is very important to the King! It mustn't be harmed!»

Although Arichdamis is keen to protect the young dragon, it doesn't actually seem that keen on him. When he puts his hands on its tail, attempting to drag it away from Makri, it turns its head towards him and growls, quite ferociously, before once more returning to Makri's ankles.

Arichdamis looks puzzled. «I've never seen this behaviour before. Tell me, Makri, have you experience in looking after dragons?»