Martin Scott - Thraxas and the Dance of Death

“Have you got what you came for?” enquires Lisutaris. “Will such a confession under duress stand up in court?”

“There isn’t going to be any court case. Professor Toarius is going to quietly reinstate Makri when I tell him that his son stole the money for dwa and I have witnesses to that effect. The Professor is of course very keen to protect the family name, which is no doubt why he was so quick to pin the rap on Makri in the first place.”

Barius is shaking. I place my arm round him and lower him back on to the couch. He can sleep it off. Then he should go home, but I doubt he will. It’s not my problem. I’m concerned to learn that the Venarius Investigation Agency has already got to him. I still don’t know who hired them. Outside the Rampant Unicorn, Lisutaris shudders, rather delicately.

“What a disgusting place. I am astonished that Marwini should choose to have an assignation in such a location. Who on earth was that naked young man?”

“One of the King’s athletes, I think. On his way up in the world. Or down, maybe, if Praetor Capatius catches him.”

“It’s all rather embarrassing,” says Lisutaris. “Marwini is one of my guests at the ball tomorrow. As is Senator Alesius. I am not so surprised to find him here, of course. His behaviour is well known in certain circles.”

“So can I do my examination now?” says Makri.

“I’ll see Toarius tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”

“When is this examination?” asks Lisutaris.

“The day after tomorrow.”

“So soon? Will you still be able to attend my ball as my bodyguard?”

“Of course,” says Makri. “I’ve already completed my studies. But did I tell you I have to stand up and speak to the whole class? It’s really stressful.”

Makri is still complaining as we climb into Lisutaris’s carriage. One problem solved, more or less. Now we only have the matter of an important pendant to find, followed by Thraxas being hauled before a Senate committee on an allegation of cowardice. Somehow I can’t concentrate. It’s just so annoying the way Lisutaris, the so-called Mistress of the Sky, flatly refuses to invite me to her masked ball. I suppose it’s only to be expected. The upper classes of Turai are notorious for their degeneracy and ingratitude. Adultery. Dwa. Corruption. All manner of disgusting behaviour. An honest working man like myself is far better off not associating with them.

[Contents]

Chapter Fifteen

At the Avenging Axe there’s a summons waiting ordering me to report to the Consul, and another message, from Harmon Half Elf, requesting a meeting. I throw both messages in the bin and head downstairs for a beer. There I find Dandelion behind the bar being irritating, Gurd still looking as miserable as a Niojan whore, no food on offer, and a great cluster of dock workers all keen to know if there have been any more deaths recently. The front door opens. A government official in a toga walks in, swiftly followed by another official in a toga, and they each beat a path towards me, bearing scrolls.

The togas are hitting the Avenging Axe thick and fast these days. It’s a while since I’ve worn one. I used to when I worked at the Palace, for official duties. They’re expensive garments. Quite awkward to wear, but it lets everyone know you’re not the sort of person who wastes his time doing manual labour.

“Rittius, head of Palace Security, commands that you visit him immediately,” says the first official. “To discuss important matters of state.”

“The senate licensing committee, finding you in violation of an order prohibiting you from investigating, requires you to attend a—”

“I’ll be right there,” I say, finishing my beer in one swift gulp. “I just have to change my boots.”

I only have one pair of boots. They’re not to know that. Once in my office I head straight for the door and down the outside stairs, pausing only to mutter the minor incantation I use for a locking spell.

The two rival vendors have now come to blows. I use my body weight to send them flying in opposite directions and start walking swiftly, heading for anywhere that is free of summonses, enquiries and any other oppressive state instruments.

The situation is now disastrous. I have abandoned all hope of successfully bringing matters to a conclusion. Clearly Lisutaris is going to be unmasked at her own masked ball, revealed to the world as a useless incompetent who’s lost the pendant, thereby severely endangering Turai. This will swiftly be followed by a general round-up of all guilty parties, which will certainly include me. I’m going to be charged with failing to report a crime, obstructing the authorities, lying to the Consul, going against the wishes of the Senate and God knows what else. Even the claim of Investigator-client confidentiality—dubious at best in matters of national security—won’t do me any good, because I’ve been stripped of my licence and can no longer claim to be an Investigator in the legal sense of the word. My most likely destination is a prison ship. Maybe even a slave galley.

I strain to think of some way out of the dire situation. A golden tree erupts from the road in front of me and stands there looking pretty. This is now becoming seriously disconcerting. There’s a time and a place for sorcery and it’s not in the middle of Quintessence Street while I’m trying to concentrate. Attractive as the tree is, no one is pleased to see it. Onlookers mutter alarming comments about portents for the destruction of the city and the more nervous among them start wailing and kneeling down to pray.

I have some experience of this sort of thing. In the magic space, a kind of sorcerous dimension to which only those with magical powers have access, things appear and disappear all the time. When it’s flowers and unicorns it’s fine, but last time I was there a volcano erupted and I was lucky to escape with my life. If the magic space is somehow breaking through into Turai—which is impossible, but I can’t think of any other explanation—then it might well mean the destruction of the city. Now I think about it, it might mean the destruction of everything. The tree disappears as swiftly as it arrived. Trusting that the Sorcerers Guild is currently working on the strange apparitions, I get back to my own problems.

I could go to Kalius and tell him everything I know, but it might be too late for that. Once Kalius learns I’ve known about the missing jewel for a week, he’ll be down on me like a bad spell. I’ll be turned over to Palace Security and Rittius will positively dance with glee as he’s locking me up. So telling the truth seems to be out of the question. Unfortunately, keeping silent doesn’t hold out much hope either. Everything is going to come out at the ball tomorrow.

I wonder if it might profit me to actually find out how the pendant went missing in the first place. Lisutaris has consistently prevented me from properly investigating this, claiming that only the recovery of the pendant is important. Maybe if I actually turned up at the Consul’s office with full details of who took the pendant and why, I might be able to bargain for a lesser sentence. It goes against the grain, though. I’d be acting against my client’s wishes. I keep this in reserve, though it’s a weak plan at best.

The only thing which would really help would be if I found the pendant right now and returned it to Lisutaris. She could present it to Consul Kalius and then just clam up about everything. Completely deny that it had ever been missing. Who could prove her wrong? It might still get us off the hook.

It strikes me that I may have been mistaken in following Lisutaris’s so-called leads all around the city. Naturally, when a man is looking for a lost pendant and the head of the Sorcerers Guild arrives in a hurry and tells him she has located said pendant, the man goes along with it. But where has it got me? Precisely nowhere. A lot of dead bodies and a headache from rushing around in the heat. For all I know the jewel might never have even been in any of these locations. Someone could have been leading Lisutaris on. Just because Lisutaris is extremely powerful it doesn’t mean she’s always right. Maybe if I’d just stuck to my own methods of investigation I might have made better progress. I’ve solved a lot of crimes by trudging round the city asking questions.