Martin Scott - Thraxas at War

'Please remember that you must be absolutely discreet. At this stage, the population of the city must not know of the threat. It will cause panic, and if it turns out to be a false alarm we will have panicked them unnecessarily.

Lisutaris frowns slightly.

'It is not a false alarm,' she says. I get the impression she's been saying that a lot.

'How long do we have?'

'We're not sure,' replies the Consul. 'But even if the Ores' preparations are as far advanced as Lisutaris believes, there are only three weeks left till winter sets in. We can be confident that they will not arrive before then, and of course, they cannot march from the east during winter. So we have five months at least.'

I leave the meeting knowing far less than I'd like to. I didn't press for too much information. They're not going to tell me everything they know and they have other people to see. But I intend to visit Lisutaris as soon as I can. The head of the Sorcerers Guild owes me some favours. Enough favours to tell me what we're up against, I hope.

Once back at the Avenging Axe I hunt for Makri. She's out in the back yard, practising a complicated series of movements with her axe. I ask her to leave her weapons practice and come up to my room. Once upstairs I clear some junk off my floor and get out the very last of my supply of kuriya.

'What's happening?' asks Makri. 'You have a case?'

The kuriya pool can produce magical pictures. An experienced practitioner of sorcery can use it to look almost anywhere, even back in time. I don't have the power to control it so well but I still remember enough from my Sorcerer's apprentice days to make it work, on occasion. I concentrate for a while and the air around the saucer of black liquid cools slightly.

'What's that?' asks Makri, as a picture starts to form in the pool.

'The Fairy Glade.'

In the Fairy Glade everything is tranquil. Naiads swim lazily in pools. Fairies flutter gently around the bushes and centaurs rest under the trees. We watch for a long time. It's a peaceful scene, and quite magical. I don't think I ever really appreciated it before. After a while, my power and control over the liquid runs out and the pool goes black. I look round at Makri. She's smiling.

'That was good. What did you want to look at the Fairy Glade for?'

'Suddenly it didn't seem like such a bad idea. If I'd any time I might even go for that walk outside the city walls.'

Makri frowns, knowing that something is wrong.

'What is it?'

'The Orcs. Prince Amrag is gathering his army and Lisutaris says they're going to attack. Probably as soon as winter is over. Once that happens, we're not going to have much time for anything peaceful.'

Chapter Four

For the next week I'm busy checking the water supply in Twelve Seas and sending off reports about damaged aqueducts and blocked wells. It's not the most exciting job, but it's important. If the city comes under siege the infrastructure has to be able to support the population till help arrives. The Consul is doing his best to put Turai in some sort of order, though some things have been neglected for far too long to be easily repaired. Not that Kalius and his military advisers are anticipating a siege. Historically, the Human nations have united to face the Ores on the battlefield. While I'm not party to any of the secret negotiations going on between nations at this moment, I've no doubt that frantic communications are being carried out at the highest levels. When the Ores arrive from the east they'll find themselves confronted by a massive army drawn from all the Human lands, with an Elvish army at our side.

Working under the direction of Prefect Drinius isn't as onerous as I'd anticipated. He's too busy handing out tasks to his officials to remember that he doesn't like Investigators. I don't particularly mind that my task doesn't seem like the most important thing a man could be doing right now. When the time comes, I'D be in the thick of the fighting.

So far the population of Turai remains unaware of the threat. Prefect Drinius has put the story around that the King has increased the municipal grant given to Twelve Seas, and that his officials are busy taking stock of the needs of the area prior to extensive improvements. I find myself enthusiastically greeted by citizens who tell me it's about time their local well or aqueduct had some attention.

Arriving home after a hard day at the aqueducts I climb the stairs to my office, intending to dump my cloak before heading for the bar downstairs. It's a mild shock to find my office occupied by Makri and five other women. I can't say I'm pleased.

'What's going on?'

'Literacy class,' says Makri, as if that explained anything.

'In my office?'

'We had a small crisis at the bakery,' says another of the woman. It's Morixa, heir to the pastry empire of her late mother, Minarixa. Morixa explains that the back room they were using for their classes is currently full of the last shipment of wheat before winter sets in.

'So we came here instead,' adds Makri.

'Why my office? What's wrong with your room?'

'It's too small'

I'm not pleased. No Investigator would be. A man's office is for working, drinking and sleeping on the couch. Maybe for thinking about an investigation. Not for reading classes taught by Makri. I'm about to speak a few harsh words when I remember how much the bakery means to me. Morixa might not have her mother's touch but she's making progress.

'Is this going to happen again?' I demand.

Makri shakes her head.

'We're just finishing. We'll be back in the bakery next time.'

I decide to let it pass. No sense outraging the baker for no reason. The women, all inhabitants of Twelve Seas by their dress, thank Makri and file out of my office. I look at Makri. She looks at me.

'Don't start,' says Makri.

'Start what?'

'Criticising and complaining.'

'Wouldn't dream of it. After all, what can a man expect once the Association of Gentlewomen put their hands to anything? Chaos is bound to follow. If that's the worst I have to suffer I'll be getting off lightly. How are the classes going?'

'Okay,' says Makri, but doesn't elaborate. 'How are the war preparations?'

I've informed both Makri and Gurd about the impending arrival of the Ores. Gurd took the news philosophically. He's sharpened his weapons and is ready to fight whenever required. As a resident alien in the city, he'll be called into the army. Makri won't. Already she's annoyed.

'You think I'm going to sit here while an Ore army marches up? Forget it. I'm joining up.'

'Women can't join the army.'

'Then I'll just have to tag along.'

I know that Makri will join in the fighting. It would be pointless for anyone to try and dissuade her. She detests Ores. She likes fighting. Nothing will keep her from the fray. However, I do point out to her that what we're about to face is unlike anything in her experience.

'You can beat just about anyone in close combat, Makri. I've seen you do it. But a battlefield isn't like the gladiatorial arena and it's not like fighting in the street either. There's no space to move, nowhere to go. You just stand there in a phalanx with a long spear in your hand, and the enemy phalanx charges towards you, and the strongest phalanx forces the other one back. You get trampled to death or stabbed by a spear held by someone you can't even get near. Fancy sword-play doesn't come into it, believe me. Most times you don't even get your sword out till the battle's half over.'

Makri informs me testily that she is well aware of battle tactics, having read everything the Imperial Library has to offer on the subject. I wave this away.

'Books and scrolls can't tell you what it's like. I can tell you more than any military historian. I've been in the phalanx. I've mown down enemy divisions and I've run for my life after my own phalanx was broken. Back in the war with—'