Martin Scott - Thraxas at War

'Never mind how the manoeuvres were. What's the idea of infesting Samilius's carriage when I wanted to talk to him?'

'Reading group,' says Makri, as if that explains everything.

'But why there?'

'Lisutaris invited us in.'

'I mean why that part of the city?'

'It was convenient. Morixa had food to sell at the troop manoeuvres.'

'This all sounds very strange. Why were there Senators' wives there?'

'You think I shouldn't teach Senators' wives?'

'I think you should teach in a place where I'm not investigating.'

'Is that right?' says Makri. 'You've already tried to chase us out of Twelve Seas. Is there anywhere you'd approve of? Maybe I should take the group to Samsarina?'

An excellent idea.'

I'd prolong the argument but find myself in urgent

need of a beer, so I let it drop. Makri hands over a tankard. I drink it in one and take a swift refill.

'So how were the manoeuvres? Is the army in good shape?'

I shake my head.

'The phrase "ignominious defeat" springs to mind.'

'That bad?'

'Terrible. Phalanx number seven couldn't manoeuvre its way along Quintessence Street. Though we weren't quite as bad as phalanx number eight, who managed to crash into the Stadium Superbius. At least the mercenaries in the stadium had a good laugh. More beer. It's been a bad day. And how is a man supposed to enjoy his beer when he can't see over the bar for flowers? How many bunches are there? What did Toraggax do, loot the city?'

Makri leans over the bar to whisper.

'I think he's sweet on me.' •

'Right. So he's an imbecile,' I grunt. 'Inbred in his northern village, I expect.'

'Everyone's inbred according to you,' says Makri. 'Senators. Northern Barbarians. The entire population of Simnia.'

'Damn right they are. I wouldn't worry about Toraggax. When his uncle Viriggax finds out his nephew's been prancing round Twelve Seas buying flowers he'll soon sort him out.'

'Viriggax also brought a small bunch.'

I stare at Makri.

'You're lying.'

'No I'm not.'

Maybe Tanrose is right. Perhaps times are changing.

But I still find it hard to believe that old Viriggax, hardened mercenary, survivor of a hundred battles and feared all over the world, has been wandering around Twelve Seas looking for winter blooms. It defies common sense. Suddenly in a worse mood than ever, I take my beer upstairs, where I find that my office is freezing. I get out my grimoire, and make a determined effort to relearn the spell for lighting a fire.

Chapter Twelve

Next day I take in a large breakfast. I'm going to need my strength because I'm about to visit Rittius. Rittius and I have a long history, all of it bad. I'm still far from certain that he isn't behind the charge of cowardice that's still hanging over me.

As head of Palace Security, Rittius has been largely responsible for investigating the death of Galwinius, because the murder happened inside the Palace grounds. Praetor Samilius, head of the Civil Guards, has also been investigating. Probably this has led to some tensions and it might even have hindered the investigation. Palace Security and the Civil Guards never like working together.

It's taken me a lot of effort to get this interview, and I'm not sure why. Officialdom in Turai has been closing its doors to me but I wasn't expecting Rittius to go along with officialdom so readily on this one, because Rittius is a supporter of the Populares, as led by Senator Lodius. I might have expected him to lend some help to a man who was investigating on behalf of his own party leader.

Tanrose is in good spirits as she ladles food on to my plate. With a man like myself as a customer, she always feels appreciated. I'm not certain how things stand between her and Gurd but at least they haven't been arguing. With so many mercenaries needing service, they're too busy to do much else except hand over the food and drink. Gurd is looking at his most profitable winter season ever. He'll be well set up for the next year or two, unless we all die in battle and the city is burnt to the ground.

'It's bad,' I say, in between mouthfuls of bread. . Tanrose bakes bread with herbs and olives. It's a fine product.

'What, your investigation?'

'No, it's bad the way everyone keeps giving Makri flowers. I mean, what's got into them all? I never saw a bunch of flowers from one year to the next in this place and now a man can't move without bumping into a vase of winter blooms. It's not as if the crazed axewoman even likes them all that much. She's just pleased when anyone gives her a present.'

'So what's wrong with that?' asks Tanrose.

'What's wrong with it is that now everyone's started doing it, it won't work for me any more. You know it was your suggestion in the first place that I smoothed things out with a bunch of flowers when Makri was annoyed for some trivial reason—'

'Like when you called her a pointy-eared Ore freak?'

'That sort of thing. I still don't see why she was so upset. It's a reasonably accurate description. And I have to admit your suggestion worked well. But now she's getting spoiled. If the whole of Twelve Seas keeps marching into the Avenging Axe with flowers, where does that leave me? Next time she's upset at some imagined slight she'll get mad and stay mad and make my life hell'

'It's not the whole of Twelve Seas, Thraxas. Just an

Ore lord from the wastelands and some mercenaries from the north.'

'But where will it all end? It was bad enough with Horm the Dead playing the lovesick suitor. Now this idiot nephew of Viriggax is joining in.'

'I wouldn't say he was an idiot nephew,' says Tanrose. 'Maybe not as sharp as an Elf's ear, but smart enough. Good-looking too. A lot of golden hair, and muscular.'

'Spare me the eulogy. He's obviously a man of limited intelligence or he wouldn't be wasting his time with flowers. The city is doomed. We need fighting men to protect us, not some effeminate youth whose jaw goes slack at the first sight of a chainmail bikini.'

Tanrose smiles.

'I suppose the bikini helps. But there's more to it than that. People just seem to take to her. Maybe you should join in,' she suggests.

'What do you mean?'

'Bring Makri flowers.'

'But we're not arguing just now.'

'Well, just bring them as a present.'

I stare at Tanrose.

As a present? For no reason? Why?'

As a nice gesture to a friend?'

A nice gesture to a friend? You haven't noticed I'm a large, bad-tempered Investigator who isn't given to nice gestures?'

'I noticed. Maybe it's time you changed your ways.'

I shudder.

'Just hand over another bowl of stew, Tanrose. I stopped making nice gestures when my wife left.'

'You never made a single nice gesture in all the time she was here.'

'Is there some problem with the stew? Can a man get any food around here?'

Tanrose ladles more stew into my bowl. Not desiring any more personal advice, I take it over to a table in front of the fire and consider what to say to Rittius. I've no leads and no inspiration. The deeper I get into the case the worse it looks for Lodius. I've done a fair amount of digging into the matter of the forged will, and as far as I can see, Prefect Galwinius had a case. It's quite possible that Senator Lodius defrauded him. I've asked a lawyer to look at the papers and give me his expert opinion but I'm not optimistic about the result. If Lodius really was caught out by Galwinius attempting to defraud the Prefect, he had every reason to kill him. The meeting of the Lesser War Council wasn't the greatest time to do it, but maybe he just saw an opportunity and took it.

Once more I wish that I wasn't involved. Too late now. There's nothing for it but to place a warming spell on my cloak and hunt for some answers. And if the answers don't come out the way I want, tip off Lodius and advise him to flee the city. After praying in his temple, I figure I owe him that much, or owe it to his wife at least. As I'm leaving the Avenging Axe I again run into Hanama.