Martin Scott - Thraxas and the Ice Dragon

Makri raises her eyebrows. «Like you did twenty years ago?»

«Exactly.»

«It's strange that no one else in Turai knew about this triumph.»

«I told you. I had to enter under a false name because I was absent without leave from my unit. Wait till we get to Elath, there will be plenty of people who remember old Thraxas, terror of the fighting arena. Of course, if you're too scared to enter…»

«Your pathetic attempts to make me angry won't work, Thraxas. I'm not entering. I don't want to. Anyway, I'm too busy being Lisutaris's bodyguard.»

«But it's a wasted opportunity. You should enter.»

«Why do you care?»

«You'll enjoy it.»

«No I won't.»

«Yes you will. Besides, think of the gambling opportunities.»

«Aha!» yells Makri. «I knew you just wanted to gamble!»

«What's wrong with that? Think of the odds we'll get. An unknown woman entering the greatest tournament in the West? We might get something like a hundred to one. Can we, as responsible citizens, refuse odds of a hundred to one?»

Makri looks momentarily interested. When she first arrived in Turai she had no interest in gambling. Since then I've managed to improve her character somewhat. These days she can get excited about a good wager. She sets her mouth firmly against it.

«No. I'm here to help Lisutaris rally the Sorcerers, get the armies organised and march against the Orcs. I'm not getting distracted by anything else.» Makri looks angry again. «Lisutaris is worried they might not even acknowledge her as head of the Sorcerers Guild any more. Kublinos heard that Lasat's already suggested he should be the new chief.»

This makes me frown, though it's not really a surprise. If the Sorcerers Guild believed that Lisutaris had perished, they'd need a new leader quickly, and there would be no time to organise a proper election. Lasat Axe of Gold would be the obvious choice. The Samsarinan Sorcerer has acted as temporary Head of the Guild before.

I shrug. «Well, now Lisutaris is alive, there's no problem. She's still Head of the Guild.»

«She has to be War Leader too,» says Makri.

«Now you're getting ahead of yourself. It'll take a lot of discussions and negotiations before they choose a War Leader.»

«I won't put up with any nonsense,» says Makri. «Lisutaris is going to lead an army straight back to Turai.»

I don't disillusion her, but it's unlikely to be that simple. The armies of the western nations have had some time to prepare for the Orcish assault but I doubt if they're ready yet. Then there's the Elves to consider. We don't have much chance of defeating Prince Amrag without them on our side, and it'll take them a while to sail up from the Southern Isles. It could be months before we're in a position to attack. Even then, it's by no means certain that the disparate forces of the West will put the retaking of Turai at the top of their priorities. They might decide just to hold the line at the Simnian border, and wait for Amrag to come to us.

Makri is irate at the thought. «So we just give up the city? Leave Turai in the hands of the Orcs? I can't believe anyone would think of doing that.»

«Since when did you love Turai so much?»

«Since I got into the Imperial University,» replies Makri. «The Deputy Consul said I could go and I'm going, even if I have to throw the Orcs out myself.»

Well, it's a point of view, I suppose. Makri was studying at the Guild Community College. She was the top student there. Academically, she's now qualified to attend the university. In reality, she had no chance of going, because she's female and she has Orcish blood, two things which absolutely disqualify anyone from attending. However, after her considerable service to Turai during the siege, Deputy Consul Cicerius did say he'd use his influence to allow it. But Cicerius is probably dead, and I don't know if there will ever be another class at the university.

The cabin door opens with a bang and Lisutaris strides into the room, her rainbow cloak flapping around her legs. She looks agitated.

«This is more serious than I thought,» she says.

«Have the Orcs advanced?»

«No, I can't get any thazis anywhere. Can you believe it's completely outlawed in Samsarina? Damn this new King and his anti-thazis policies.» Lisutaris gazes with concern at her almost-empty thazis pouch. «Even Kublinos doesn't have any. Have you ever known a Sorcerer without any thazis? What's the matter with these Samsarinans?»

I nod in sympathy. «They're strange. Have you noticed how they don't seem to have much beer around?»

Lisutaris sits down heavily and looks glumly at her shoes. She seems to have borrowed a nice pair, probably from the Baroness. They aren't cheering her up any, even though she's a woman who does like shoes.

«Is there any war news?» asks Makri.

«I really thought Kublinos would have some thazis somewhere,» says Lisutaris. «There had better be some in Elath, or there's going to be trouble.» She rises to her feet. «I'm Head of the Sorcerers Guild, damn it! You can't expect me to obey every petty little law in a no-account country like Samsarina.»

«There will be thazis in Elath,» I say, reassuringly. «It's just a matter of knowing how to find it. I'll sort it out.»

«Will you?» says Lisutaris, eagerly. «Good. As my Chief Adviser, this is your number one priority.»

«I'm not actually your Chief Adviser.»

«Well now I'm appointing you as a wartime emergency.»

«Is there a salary?»

«No,» snaps Lisutaris. «You just do it as your patriotic duty. And that duty is to find me thazis so I can function.» She peers out the small window. «I wonder if this barge can go any faster? Maybe I could work some sort of spell…»

Makri looks frustrated. «About the war?»

«Yes I know there's a war,» says Lisutaris. «You don't have to go on about it.»

«Don't get angry with me because you're running out of thazis,» protests Makri «You're as bad as Thraxas and his continual craving for beer.»

«What?» roars Lisutaris «Didn't you once collapse in Quintessence Street because you'd taken enough dwa to knock out a dragon?»

Makri purses her lips. Dwa is a much more powerful drug than thazis. «That was only one time,» she says. «It hardly counts.»

«One time?» I scoff. «And the rest. Who was it that vomited over the floor at the Sorcerers Assemblage?»

«Almost everybody,» retorts Makri. «After the Turanians drugged and poisoned them all.»

«The fact is, Makri, you're no more sober than anybody else.»

«I'm much more sober that you. How can you compare the occasional experiment with dwa with your continual heavy drinking?»

«I prefer to think of it as moderate indulgence. It's not like I'm addicted. Like Lisutaris with thazis, for instance.»

«What?» yells Lisutaris. «You dare to criticise me? You haven't been sober in the last fifteen years.»

«Well,» comes a voice from the cabin door. «Perhaps it's no surprise that Turai fell so easily to the Orcs.»

It's Baron Mabados. He brushes away a few strands of his long grey hair, enabling him to fix his glare firmly on me. He's a very large man, tall and brawny. The sort of Baron who's used to leading his men into battle.

«I see you decided to accompany us,» he growls.

«I did.»

«Take care your manners improve.» His eyes flicker towards Makri. If anything, his look of distaste becomes even more intense.

«Is it customary for your serving girl to carry a sword?» he barks at Lisutaris. Not waiting for an answer, he tells Lisutaris that Kublinos has invited her to share his table.

«Decent of him,» I say, affably, and head for the door. The Baron flings out an arm out to prevent me leaving.

«The invitation is for the Head of the Sorcerers Guild only.» And with that, the Baron leaves.