Martin Scott: Thraxas Under Siege (ARC)

There are some strange noises outside my inner door, the one that leads down to the bar. Normally I'd be annoyed at such an early interruption to my day but I wander over genially and drag the door open. Out in the corridor I find Palax and Kaby, two young street musicians. There was a time when I'd have been displeased to see them because the young couple are not what you'd call your standard citizens of Turai. They affect the strangest clothes and hairstyles and have facial piercings never seen before in the city, and they live in a caravan which they park behind the tavern. Not the sort of behaviour to endear themselves to the average Turanian, including me. However, I've grown used to them these days, and I've enjoyed some good nights in the Avenging Axe when they've been playing their lute and fiddle.

"We need help," says Palax, anxiously. I notice that Kaby is trembling. I scowl at them.

"Didn't I tell you dwa would kill you?"

Dwa, a powerful drug, has been the bane of the city in recent years.

"She hasn't take dwa. She's sick."

I look more closely at the girl. Her face is red, she's shivering, and sweat is glistening on her forehead. It's obvious what's wrong. I'd have noticed right away had it not been for the unusual potency of Lisutaris's green thazis.

"She's got the winter malady," I say.

"I know," says Palax. "I think she's going to die."

Kaby suddenly sneezes. I step back quickly. The winter malady is not quite as deadly as the summer plague, but it's bad enough. As the city is so crowded I wouldn't be surprised if we were in for an epidemic. Kaby begins to shake, quite violently.

"Palax. Pick up Kaby and take her to the empty guest room at the end of the corridor. Keep her warm with a blanket and give her water and nothing else. Don't leave the room and don't let anyone else in. The malady spreads quickly and if anyone else comes near they'll catch it."

"Is she going to die?" asks Palax, looking quite desperate.

"No. She's young and strong. She'll be better in a few days. Now get her out of here and along to the guest room. I'll get the healer."

Palax does as I say. He has some difficulty carrying Kaby but I don't offer to help. I've had the winter malady before and it's commonly believed this makes a man less liable to get it again, but I don't feel like taking the risk. The disease isn't usually fatal but it's unpredictable. There have been times when it's struck with unusual ferocity. People can die from it. I drink some klee then go downstairs to tell Gurd the bad news in private. Gurd is alarmed.

"How bad is she?"

"Couldn't tell. The malady always looks bad at the start."

"What'll I do?" asks Gurd.

I'm not certain. Any case of the winter malady breaking out in a public building should be reported to the local Prefect's office. Unfortunately the Prefect can then impose a quarantine. If Gurd reports Kaby's illness to Prefect Drinius he's liable to see the Avenging Axe shut for at least a week, and that's a lot of business to lose. He could just keep quiet about it, which is fine if Kaby recovers and no one learns of it. But if the Prefect discovers what's happened, there'll be trouble.

Gurd chews his lip.

"Three years ago that silversmith from Lorn took the malady. He just stayed in his room and he got better. I didn't report it then . . ."

I remember. The incident passed off harmlessly enough. The winter malady often does. Some years very few people catch it, and it doesn't seem virulent enough to kill. Unfortunately there have been years when it's been a lot worse. My younger brother died of the winter malady, a long time ago. A lot of people died of it that year. Gurd decides to look in on Kaby, judge her condition, then visit Chiaraxi the healer in private. Chiaraxi is a friend, and won't close him down if it doesn't seem necessary. I watch him hurry upstairs then walk over to the counter for a beer. Makri is serving.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing," I say. "Have you heard of Moolifi?"

Makri shakes her head.

"She's a singer up at the Golden Unicorn."

Makri sneers. I raise my eyebrows.

"How did a barmaid who grew up in a gladiator slave pit become such a snob?"

"I am not a snob," retorts Makri.

"Oh no? You sneer at anything that wasn't written five hundred years ago by some obscure Elvish bard."

"I sneer at anything which involves the performer taking her clothes off before the end of the first chorus."

"Well it might brighten up some of these musty old Elvish plays. Besides, I hear Moolifi has a terrific voice."

"From who?"

"From Captain Rallee. Who has apparently been stepping out with Moolifi for the past week."

It's an interesting snippet of news, even for Makri, who's not normally one for gossip. Captain Rallee did used to be something of a lady's man, but generally these days he's too busy to pursue them. He's in charge of one of the local Civil Guards posts, and with half his men absent on war duty, he's even more overworked than usual.

"He's as happy as an Elf in a tree. He's been strutting round with her on his arm, making the locals jealous."

I muse for a while on the Captain, and his new lady. I've never seen her perform.

"I haven't been up to the Golden Unicorn for a while."

"Are you feeling the need for some exotic dancers?"

"No. But there's a big game of rak played there every week, lot of rich players. I'd like to sit down at a table with some of them."

"So why don't you?"

"Can't afford it," I admit. A man needs a lot of money before he can play cards with Praetor Capatius and General Acarius."

"You gamble too much," says Makri.

I point out to Makri that she herself has not been averse to the odd wager since arriving in Turai.

"Only because of your bad influence."

"Bad influence? I'd call it rounding out your personality. All you used to do was work and study. These days you're slightly less unbearable."

Tanrose is further along behind the bar, ladling out stew to Viriggax and a few of his mercenaries. When she's filled their bowls she hurries over to me and leans across the bar, lowering her voice so as not to be heard by anyone else.

"Thraxas. I need to consult you."

"You mean an investigation?"

Tanrose nods.

"I'm due for guard duty right now. Can it wait till I get back?"

Tanrose nods, and I tell her to come to my office when my shift at the walls ends. I've no idea what she might want me to investigate, but as she's the finest cook ever seen at the Avenging Axe, I'm more than willing to give her whatever help she requires.

Chapter Four

I have two magic warm cloaks. The first one is a fairly inefficient garment. Keeps out the chill for a while but soon starts to lose its potency. I made it myself but my sorcerous powers just aren't up to the task these days. The cloak which Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, made for me is much better. She put a spell on it which only needs a word from me to revitalise it each day. The cloak stays warm for a long time. I've done enough soldiering in freezing weather to appreciate the favour. Not that Lisutaris didn't owe me a favour or two, as I pointed out to Makri, with some justice. As do various others, I reflect, during my long spell on the walls. I gaze out into the frozen waste below with a feeling of dissatisfaction. I've fought for this city. I've lived here, worked here, paid taxes. I've sorted out the problems of the rich and poor. My investigating talents have helped keep Lisutaris in her job and Deputy Consul Cicerius out of disgrace. And where has it got me? Two rooms above a tavern in the poorest part of town with little prospect of improvement.

The wind blows a little colder. I wrap my cloak tighter around me. Down below is the rocky stretch of shoreline that leads to the harbour. Since talking about Captain Rallee and his girlfriend, I keep thinking about the card game in the upstairs room at the Golden Unicorn. General Acarius and Praetor Capatius are both regular visitors to the table. The General has a reputation as the finest gambler in the Turanian army, and he's very wealthy. Half the Turanian fleet is built from wood grown on his family's vast estates. As for Capatius, he's the richest man in Turai. He owns his own bank and his trading empire extends all over the west. If I could just get myself around a rak table with these two I'd soon show them how the game should be played.