Martin Scott - Thraxas and the Dance of Death

I’m astonished by the effrontery of the woman.

“I haven’t killed anyone. The way people have been after this pendant it’s no wonder the Consul’s got wind of it. I can’t believe you’d blame me.”

“You can’t? Why not? You’re supposed to be an Investigator. And yet on the simplest of cases you have notably failed to produce any results. Tell me, Thraxas, on most of your cases do you have exact information as to the whereabouts of the stolen item?”

“No.”

“Yet I have three times told you precisely where the pendant could be located and on each occasion you have failed to retrieve it. Instead, all I get is messages telling me that some brutal slaughter has occurred and the gem is missing again. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to arrive in time to locate the item I’m paying you to find?”

Lisutaris halts in the middle of the room and fixes me with a hostile stare. Coming from the head of the Sorcerers Guild, this is quite disconcerting. Lisutaris is one of the most powerful magic users in the world and if she decided it was time to use a little magic on an errant Investigator I wouldn’t want to be that Investigator. I’m wearing a fine spell protection necklace but no such item could hold out against the might of Lisutaris for long.

That being said, I don’t allow anyone to enter my room and abuse me. I meet her gaze and inform her coldly that if I’m not given enough time to do the job then the job won’t get done, and besides, it would be a help if she’d told me the full facts of the case.

“Are you implying I have withheld information?”

“Most clients do. You said that no one knew the power of this pendant. That’s obviously not true. From the way people have been killing each other to get hold of it, I’d say its importance was well known to someone. When you first arrived here the job looked simple and we were in a hurry so I didn’t get the full background to the case. Maybe I should have. Who else in your immediate circle knew you had the pendant, for instance?”

“No one but my secretary.”

“Then maybe we should have a few words with your secretary.”

“You will not investigate her,” says Lisutaris, quite emphatically.

“I think I should.”

“I am not interested in what you think. You will not speak to my secretary and that is final. If knowledge of the pendant’s true significance has somehow been learned, it is unfortunate but no longer relevant. I don’t care how it came to happen; the point is I must have the pendant back immediately. Do you realise that Consul Kalius will be at my house in two days’ time? He is suspicious already. He’s bound to ask to see the pendant.”

“Couldn’t you fob him off with an imitation?”

“If it were only the Consul, yes. But he will have with him Sorcerers from the government, all of whom I have invited to my masked ball. No imitation jewel I could fabricate would fool Old Hasius the Brilliant. Hasius is still seething with jealousy over my election as head of the Guild. He’d take one look at an imitation pendant and squawk so loud they’d hear him in Simnia.”

Lisutaris finishes her thazis stick and lights another.

“This is such a mess! Damn it, I never wanted to be head of the Sorcerers Guild in the first place. I never asked to be placed in charge of items vital for the defence of the city. The Consul’s going to be down on me like a bad spell when he learns I’ve lost the pendant. Only last month he was telling me that some Orcish prince or other had just conquered a neighbouring country and was looking to set himself up as war leader.”

“Prince Amrag?”

Lisutaris nods. Already in the west we’ve heard quite a few reports about this prince. The Orcs hate us as much as we hate them but they’re often more riven by internal warfare than we are, which prevents them from mounting a concentrated attack on us. But every now and then a leader comes along capable of unifying the Orc nations, and when that happens it’s but a short step to an invasion of the Human lands. Prince Amrag looks like he might be the Orc to do it, and it might not be too far in the future.

“Maybe it’s time to call in someone else.”

“What do you mean?” demands Lisutaris.

“If this is so important for Turai, maybe Palace Security should be involved. They could put their whole resources to searching the city.”

“Absolutely not,” says Lisutaris, shaking her head and lighting another thazis stick. Lisutaris’s substantial use of thazis often sends her into a happy dream world, and it’s a sign of how deep the crisis is that she shows no signs of relaxing, no matter how many sticks she smokes.

“I cannot own up to the loss of the pendant. I’d be ruined. The King would expel me from the city in disgrace and I’d be shunned in every nation. My family has been in the leading tier of Turanian society for as long as the city’s been here, and I refuse to end up a mad old hermit in the wastelands casting horoscopes for travellers.”

I break open a new bottle of klee. Lisutaris, not a great drinker, downs a glass in the blink of an eye and holds out her glass for more. I pour her another glass and ask her if she knows of any reason why an operative from the Venarius Investigation Agency might also be on the trail of the pendant.

“I’ve no idea. Surely it’s not possible.”

“I’m pretty certain that’s what Demanius was doing in the Blind Horse. Before the woman died she seemed to recognise him, and she mentioned the jewel.”

“This is a disaster,” says the Sorcerer, and starts pacing again.

“It is. So far this pendant has been in the hands of various unknown thieves, the Brotherhood, and the Society of Friends. Both these organisations have contacts all over the city, extending right up into the government. When you add in the fact that whoever stole it in the first place probably knew exactly what they were getting, and probably tried to sell it to someone who also knew all about it, it’s pretty clear that the matter is no longer much of a secret. In fact, we might as well assume that everyone knows about it. Are you sure you don’t want to call in some outside help?”

Lisutaris doesn’t.

“The moment I admit the loss, I’m ruined. We have two days left. You must find the pendant.”

“I’ll do my best. I’ll do better if you fill me in on a few missing details.”

“Like what?”

“Like why so many people are dying. It’s not credible that they all just happened to kill each other in a fight over the jewel. Thieves don’t suddenly kill each other. If one is dominant the others back down after the first sign of violence. None of these crime scenes looked like the scenes I’m used to. It looked to me like something had affected the people in a way that drove them insane. Which would be backed up by some of their dying words. One man told me he was on a beautiful golden ship and another one thought he was King of Turai. Any particular reason why they might be thinking that?”

“Yes,” says Lisutaris. “Looking into the green jewel would drive an untrained mind insane. Four people who had all looked into it would be quite likely to kill each other as their dreams took over their reality.”

“You’re telling me this now? Don’t you think you could have mentioned it earlier?”

“I did say that it was a dangerous object,” protests Lisutaris.

“Not so dangerous that it was going to lead to such slaughter. So it’s quite likely that every time someone gets hold of this pendant they’ll go mad, kill their companions and make off with it?”

“Yes. But they won’t get far. If they look into it they will probably die even without violence being inflicted on them. It will just break their minds.”