Martin Scott - Thraxas and the Ice Dragon

Makri stands behind Lisutaris and attempts to rectify the situation, but quickly becomes frustrated. «I can't close it. How does it work?'»

I raise my eyes to heaven. If you're having problems in the female costuming department, Makri is never going to be any help.

«Step aside and let a civilised Turanian look at it,» I say, and brush Makri aside. «The clasp is jammed.»

«We know that already,» says Lisutaris.

«Let me try again,» says Makri.

«What with? Your axe? Not every problem can be solved by violence.»

I take hold of the clasp and give it a tug. Nothing happens. I pull it harder. The clasp rips right out of the dress which then flops down around Lisutaris's waist. Makri bursts out laughing. At this moment Kublinos walks into the room. Seeing Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, with her dress around her waist, he looks surprised.

«What is… eh…?»

«Come Makri, let's go to my room and see if we can repair the damage,» says Lisutaris. They disappear. Kublinos looks at me very suspiciously.

«What was that all about?»

«Just a little clothing problem.»

«Was it you who ripped Lisutaris's dress?»

«Accidentally.»

His eyes narrow. «I have to say, Thraxas, your attempts to win the favour of Lisutaris are quite inappropriate. Apart from your unsuitable character, there's the difference in class to be considered.»

Before I can protest, he rushes on.

«Just because you rescued Lisutaris — or claim to have — doesn't give you the right to inflict yourself on her. I've seen the way you operate and I don't like it at all.»

Faced with an angry and apparently insane Sorcerer, I'm starting to think it's a good thing I'm wearing a powerful spell protection necklace. Kublinos's idea that I'm somehow trying attach myself to Lisutaris is so ridiculous I barely know how to answer.

«You're forever whispering in her ear, trying to worm your way into her affections. No doubt you persuaded her to move with you to Arichdamis's house so you can carry on your deceitful campaign unhindered.» He leans towards me. «I'm warning you Thraxas, I've got plenty of spells just waiting to be used on any shameless adventurer with his eyes on Lisutaris's fortune.»

There's no telling how this might end, but we're interrupted by the arrival of a servant. Apparently I'm wanted downstairs. I depart immediately, grateful for the interruption. There I find another servant, a young man wearing a fancy tunic with an unnecessary amount of gold braid.

«Thraxas? Baroness Demelzos wishes to see you.»

This takes me by surprise. I'd have guessed she'd happily live out her life without ever seeing me again. I shrug, and follow the servant into the narrow streets that separate the Baronial dwellings of Elath. Every few steps we pass by some richly attired group of aristocrats. Rarely can so many lords and Barons have been crammed together in such a small space. The servant stops in front of a smart carriage, with two horses in front and dark curtains on the windows. The servant checks the street to make sure no one's looking at us.

«In there,» he says.

The door opens. I step inside. It's a plush carriage, upholstered in purple with silver trimmings. Inside is Baroness Demelzos.

«Please shut the door.»

I do as she says, then take a seat opposite her. We sit in silence for a few minutes.

«Nice carriage,» I say, eventually.

She looks irritated. «You have no manners, have you?»

«Not many.»

«You never did have.»

I raise an eyebrow. «Have we met?»

«You mean before you mistook me for a serving wench in Orosis?»

Baroness Demelzos looks more irritated. I'm starting to wonder if she just got me here so she could have someone to be irritated at.

«Why were you so appallingly rude? And drunk?»

«I'd just come off an eight-day stint in a boat with no sails. Before that I'd been chased out my city by Orcs. I felt I deserved a beer or two.»

«You always did drink too much. Even as a young man you had a problem.» Baroness Demelzos leans over slightly and fixes me with an unfriendly stare. «I never expected you to treasure my memory, Thraxas, but I didn't think you'd completely forget me.»

I look at her blankly. «Who are you?»

«I'm Demmy, the barmaid you had an affair with after you won the tournament.» She sits back heavily. «I expect you forgot about me within a week.»

This is all quite a shock. I did have a brief liaison with a barmaid while I was in Samsarina. That was more than twenty years ago. «You're Demmy? Well dammit, how was I meant to recognise you?»

«I haven't changed that much,» said Demelzos. She eyes my waistline. «Unlike you.»

«But you were a barmaid. I wasn't expecting you to become a Baroness. How did that happen?»

«My father left his job in the mine and went up north to prospect for queenstone. He made the richest strike anyone ever saw. Two years after you left Samsarina I was the wealthiest young woman in the country. Soon after that I was a member of aristocracy. The Barons are an exclusive class, but a young woman with enough money is tempting for anyone.»

The Baroness is wearing a queenstone necklace, and even inside the carriage, with the curtains drawn, the blue stones sparkle. It's a very precious material, only found in Samsarina as far as I know.

«So what's it like being married to Baron Mabados?»

«Better than being a barmaid. How did life treat you?»

«Twenty years soldiering, then I ended up living in a tavern in the bad part of town.»

Demelzos was an attractive barmaid, as I recall, and she hasn't lost much in the way of looks. Her long brown hair hangs freely over her shoulders, in the style of the local noblewomen, with two slender braids looping round to meet at the nape of her neck where they're joined by a silver clasp. Though the weather is becoming milder, she hasn't abandoned her fur cape, which is luxurious, even by the normal standards of fur capes. Her shoes, while neither as extravagant nor as high-heeled as those worn by the fashionable women of Turai, are stitched with gold thread. I'd say she hasn't done too badly for herself.

«I'm guessing you'd didn't ask me here to discuss old times,» I say.

«I didn't. Though if I did, I'd have something to say about the way you left without saying goodbye.»

«I had to get back to my regiment. I was absent without leave.»

«You could have said goodbye.»

«Sorry. As a young man, I may have been lacking in manners.»

«Have they improved?»

«Not really.»

I'm feeling discomfited by the encounter. It's hard to know the right tone to take with a Baroness you knew as a barmaid.

«I'm told you call yourself an investigator,» she says. «What do you do exactly?»

«I find out things for people.»

«What sort of people?»

«All sorts. Poor people who can't afford a good lawyer. Rich people who don't want a good lawyer knowing the sort of trouble they're in. People who've got on the wrong side of someone powerful.» I pause, waiting for her to speak. She remains silent. «Do you fall into one of these categories?»

«How do you find things out? Sorcery?»

«I don't know enough sorcery to tell what day it is.»

«Didn't you go to the Sorcerer's college? I remember you used to talk about it.»

«It never worked out.»

«So how do you find things out?»

«Mostly by trudging around asking questions that other people can't be bothered to ask. It would save time if you told me what the problem is.»

Demelzos muses for a while longer. It's a comfortable carriage. I don't mind waiting. It gives me some time to digest the fact that the young barmaid I had a brief affair with went on to become a Baroness. Maybe I should have stuck around till she became rich.