Martin Scott - Thraxas at War

Makri pulls back her hair, displaying her pointed ears.

'These mean I know how to use it. And today I'm feeling very bad towards all Humans. So you give me the information before I count to five or get ready to meet the legions of the Orcish damned.'

Makri starts counting, and she doesn't linger over it. By now the unfortunate Kerinox is looking genuinely frightened and I think he might be about to talk when Makri suddenly slices at him. He screams. I'm expecting to see his head fly off his body but Makri miraculously stops the blade just as it touches his throat.

'You were saying?'

The red-haired man looks at me imploringly.

'Get this demon away from me. I'll tell you who sent me.'

I feel rather sorry for him. I wouldn't like to be tied in a chair with Makri waving that sword around my head either. Makri retreats to my desk and sits calmly smoking my thazis while I question him.

He tells me that he was sent to kill me by Bevarius. The Consul's assistant. The man who picked up the scroll.

'Do you often kill people for money?'

Kerinox shrugs.

'Now and then.'

I don't learn much more, and in truth I'm sick of the whole thing. Once I've learned that it was Bevarius who hired men to attack me I don't need to know much more. Not from Kerinox anyway.

'If you come anywhere near the Avenging Axe again Makri will kill you with the Orcish sword. I've seen men die from it. They never seem to go easily'

I untie him. He's bruised, and bleeding from a cut under his left eye. I shouldn't feel any sympathy. He's twice tried to kill me. For some reason I feel some sympathy. He departs without another word. Throughout this, Makri has been sitting quietly at my desk, smoking thazis. I hand over seven and a half gurans and thank her for her help. She accepts my thanks as graciously as she normally does, which is not that graciously.

'You've been really bad-tempered recently. Even by your standards.'

I shrug, and light a thazis stick for myself.

'Difficult case. Men trying to kill me. Snow on the ground. War looming. Never makes for a happy life.'

'I suppose not,' says Makri. 'Though I don't see why you have to start complaining every time someone sends me flowers. It's not my fault everyone is sending me flowers. Do you have any idea why everyone is sending me flowers?'

'It baffles me. I see you have a new admirer.'

'Toraggax?' says Makri. 'I quite like him.'

'You do? I wouldn't have thought he was your type.'

Makri has never expressed any interest in any mercenary before. Or any Human, that I can remember.

'He's quite intelligent,' she says. 'And polite.'

She stubs out her thazis stick.

'I was talking to a professor at the academy. A friend of Samanatius. He studies plants. I asked him about carasin. You said Galwinius was poisoned with carasin and Senator Lodius is the only person who imports it into Turai.'

'True.'

'Well there's a whole family of plants that act in the same way,' says Makri.

'What do you mean, family? Plants don't have families.'

'Yes they do. Sort of. The professor classifies them into different species. Like they're related to each other.'

'It's the first I've heard about it. So what?'

'So there are three other plants like the carasin bush that can be used to make poison. The effect is very similar. Similar enough to fool almost anyone. They're not well known because they have no commercial use. But the professor said that a person who knew about them could make a poison that the authorities would identify as carasin because its action was just the same.'

Makri smiles.

'Interesting?'

'Very interesting. Where do these plants grow?'

'One of them grows in the hills just north of the city. So while you've been wondering who else could possibly have brought carasin into Turai, it probably wasn't carasin at all. Just some plant from the hills that anyone with a bit of knowledge could have collected.'

Makri is pleased with herself, which I suppose she has a right to be. I wonder who might have such specialised knowledge of poisonous plants. The Assassins, I suppose. Or maybe just someone from a law enforcement agency who came across the rare poison in the line of his work.

Night is falling. I ask Makri if she's working downstairs but she shakes her head

'Studying?'

'No. I'm going out.'

'Out? Where?'

'Just out,' says Makri and looks furtive.

'Is this connected with these mysterious meetings?'

'There are no mysterious meetings. It's my reading group.'

It's none of my business. I let it drop.

'It's cold as the Ice Queen's grave outside,' says Makri.

'So?'

'So lend me the magic warm cloak.'

'I need it.'

Makri complains loudly about the ingratitude of an Investigator who'd never get a single thing done if it wasn't for the aid of a far more intelligent companion who time after time lends him her valuable assistance. I scowl at her and hand over the cloak.

'Make sure I get it back in the morning. I didn't spend all that time as a Sorcerer's apprentice just so my far more intelligent companion could walk around in my magic warm cloak.'

Makri drapes the cloak around her, takes another thazis stick without asking, and departs. A messenger arrives at my door. He's carrying a reply from Domasius.

'Prefect Galwinius's estate split between wife and Consul Kalius,' says the message.

It's not such an unusual arrangement among the senatorial classes. Galwinius is a cousin of Kalius. Keeping the fortune in the family is important. His will leaves half of his money to his wife and the other half to the Consul. Nothing strange about that. Nothing strange except I've been investigating Galwinius's death and now the Consul's assistant has been trying to kill me. And the Consul's assistant picked up some scroll that Galwinius was carrying right before he was murdered. And Bevarius and Kalius were in the room when Galwinius died. And the food came from the Consul's kitchen. And now Kalius is a great deal richer than he used to be. I look at the second part of Domasius's message.

'Consul Kalius greatly in debt,' it reads. 'Lost money speculating on corn imports and has been borrowing all round town.'

It's something to think about. I'm tired. I'll think about it tomorrow. I finish my thazis stick and go through to my bedroom, which is small, cold, and generally cheerless. I speak a word of power and my illuminated staff bursts into life. It's an excellent illuminated staff, a much finer item than a man with such a poor command of sorcery as myself has any right to own. I won if from an Elf lord, at Niarit. The golden light makes my room look rather less grim. I speak another word of power to tone down the light to a soft, warm radiance. On a whim, I leave it lit while I go to sleep, something I haven't done for a long time.

Chapter Seventeen

I'm woken in the middle of the night by someone shaking my arm. I'm already reaching for my sword as I haul myself upright.

Thraxas, it's me!'

It's Makri, looking agitated. The magic warm cloak is ripped and there are grazes on her shoulders and forehead.

'What's happening?'

'Listen and don't interrupt. Tonight we went to rescue Herminis. That's what the Association meetings were about. Planning the rescue. But it went wrong.'

'Of course.'

'Why of course?'

'Because your useless Association couldn't organise a sword fight in an armoury.'

'I asked you not to interrupt,' says Makri, sharply. 'Herminis was being transferred from prison to the execution site and we knew when this was happening because the woman who cooks at the prison is a member of the Association. So Lisutaris and Tirini Snake Smiter—'

'Tirini?'

'Yes.'

Tirini Snake Smiter is a powerful Sorcerer but not one ever known to do anything except wear expensive outfits and host fabulous parties.