Martin Scott - Thraxas Under Siege (ARC)

I find myself in the narrow street where Makri and I met Marizaz, Orcish Assassin. What a strange affair that was. One that I really should have looked into further. I would have had my mind not been preoccupied with raising money, and looking after the sick. I can hardly be blamed for some neglect when it comes to investigating. The way the Avenging Axe is bulging with ailing people just now is enough to put anyone off. Once more I find myself wondering if there might be some sorcery behind it. Lisutaris can insist all she wants that no magic is involved, but I still say it's unnatural the way no one can set foot in my office without catching the malady. It goes against all reason.

I glance down at the spot where Makri killed Marizaz. A tiny splash of colour catches my eye, bright against the dull frozen mud. I reach down to pick it up. It's a small scrap of cloth, a few threads of pink. Unusual. There's not that much pink fabric to be found in Twelve Seas. It's an expensive colour. The dye has to be imported from the far west. Upper-class women might flaunt their wealth by wearing pink garments, but no one does in Twelve Seas. I wonder how it got here. As far as I remember, Marizaz wasn't wearing pink. I put the threads in my pocket and look around some more, without finding anything. Then I return to the Avenging Axe. I've made no progress and I'm stuck for inspiration.

Captain Rallee is sitting at a table with Moolifi. I decline his invitation to join them. The Captain is more gregarious these days but I'm not in the mood for admiring the fineness of his lady friend. I'm starting to resent the way he's sitting around here being pleased with himself while I'm out investigating in the cold streets. I make a brief enquiry about the likelihood of food and learn that Gurd has sent out for an emergency cook. Meanwhile he and Dandelion are attempting to manufacture some sort of stew. Knowing Gurd's lack of culinary expertise, I don't hold out much hope, unless the emergency cook turns out to be a woman of extraordinary skill, which isn't that likely.

By now in a thoroughly bad mood, I traipse upstairs to my room to have another look at Makri's book. Unfortunately it's not there. I glance suspiciously at Hanama but she's sleeping and she isn't holding a book. I'm concerned. If someone's stolen Makri's book she'll go crazy, and probably accuse me of not looking after it properly. I hunt round my room, without success. Finally I put my nose through the bedroom door, in case Lisutaris might have it. I'm surprised to find Makri sitting on the floor, reading the book in question. She looks up as I enter, and shifts uncomfortably.

"Thraxas. Finished investigating?"

"Just came back to do some research."

I stare at the book.

"Some research from that book, as it happens."

I hold out my hand.

"You can't have it," says Makri.

"What do you mean, I can't have it? I need it."

"So do I."

"What for?"

"College."

"College is closed."

"I have to prepare a seminar. For next year. On naval history."

I stare at Makri.

"Makri, you are a terrible liar. You don't have a seminar to prepare, whatever that means. If you did you wouldn't have lent me the book."

I take a step towards her.

"Hand it over."

Makri leaps to her feet.

"Back off," she says. "I need this book."

"You're researching whales, aren't you!" I cry.

"Whales? You're talking rubbish. Why would I be researching whales?"

"Because you're trying to get your hands on Tanrose's gold! How did you learn about it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," says Makri, not very convincingly. She really is a bad liar. Faced with a master of the art like me, she's wasting her time. Nonetheless, she doesn't look like she's going to give up the book without a fight. I take a step backwards, and draw myself up to my full height.

"I might have expected this from you. I'm out there doing an honest day's work and the moment I get home I find you stabbing me in the back."

"No one is stabbing you in the back. And what do you mean, you might have expected it of me?" demands Makri.

"The Orcish blood. Never trust a person with pointed ears."

Makri narrows her eyes. When she does that they have an odd, slanted appearance. Another sure sign of her non-Human untrustworthiness.

"I'm getting fed up of your Orcish insults," she says.

"Feel free to leave the city any time," I respond, and I mean it. We stare at each other angrily for a few seconds.

"How did you learn about the whale story?" I demand.

"Everyone knows about it," snaps Makri. "Glixius Dragon Killer was in here asking about whales while you were out."

"Glixius? How did he learn about it?"

"Servant gossip. Tanrose's mother's servant is the sister of one of Glixius's cooks."

Servants are notorious for gossiping. I should have guessed it wouldn't remain a secret. I'd better find this gold, and soon. If I don't, there's no telling how many people might start trying to muscle in. I curse Glixius. This man really is the bane of my life. Not only is he searching for the Ocean Storm, he's apparently looking for the hidden gold. It's not like the man is poor. He doesn't need a share of 14,000 gurans the way I do. The thought makes me even angrier. I feel slightly better when I remember that I'll soon have the chance to take some of his money from him at the card table. Unfortunately I'm immediately reminded that I don't have enough money to sit down with yet, and I get angry again.

I leave the room. To hell with them all. I've got about thirty-six hours before Turai's richest gamblers roll up to the Avenging Axe, and nothing is going to prevent me from finding the cash I need to play with them. There's a knock on the inner door. I open it to find Tirini Snake Smiter outside. I glare at her. Tirini hasn't actually stabbed me in the back but she's an associate of Lisutaris's and Makri is Lisutaris's bodyguard, so I'm annoyed at her by association.

"What do you want?" I ask.

Tirini looks surprised.

"To protect Lisutaris, of course. That's what I'm here for, remember?"

I let her in, muttering under my breath all the while.

Tirini eyes me with mild distaste.

"Don't blame me. This tavern is the last place I'd choose to spend my time. But some of us have to make sacrifices for the good of the city. Did you give up guarding the walls?"

"I have a few days off."

"Really," says Tirini, raising her eyebrows. "How reassuring. One trusts the Orcs are also enjoying a holiday."

Tirini sweeps past me and on into the bedroom to check on Lisutaris. I notice she's wearing another fancy pair of shoes with pink and gold embroidery. Was she wearing them before? I can't remember. The pink looks rather similar to the threads I have in my pocket. The ones I picked up from where we left Marizaz.

There's probably nothing in it. Lots of rich Turanian women have embroidery on their shoes. It's a popular way of showing off your wealth. But maybe I'll examine them later to see if there are any threads missing. I don't completely trust Tirini. She never appeared on the battlefield. For all anyone knows she could be an Orcish spy. Lisutaris trusts her. But Lisutaris also employs Makri as a bodyguard, so it's not like you can trust her judgement in everything.

There's a knock on the outside door.

"Go to hell!" I shout.

The door flies open. Harmon Half Elf strolls into the room. He has long fair hair, and an elegant green cloak with the rainbow motif of the Sorcerers Guild embroidered around the hem.

"Where is the meeting?" he asks, politely enough for a man who just countermanded my locking spell and barged into my office.

"What meeting?"

"The Sorcerers' meeting."

"What Sorcerers' meeting?"

Before I can reply, Coranius the Grinder strides in though the door. Coranius is one of Turai's most powerful Sorcerers, and a man of notoriously short temper.