Martin Scott - Thraxas and the Dance of Death

“This is no time to be discussing costumes.”

“But I don’t know what to wear,” says Makri, sounding unhappy. “I don’t want everyone to laugh at me.”

It’s really too much. A man can only stand so much harassment in his own city. I firmly resolve to slip out of the city under cover of darkness and never come back.

“All the rich people will have really fancy costumes, I expect,” continues Makri. “How am I meant to compete with that?”

“Wear your armour,” I suggest.

“My armour?”

Makri brought a fine suit of light body armour with her from the Orc gladiator pit. Made of chainmail and black leather, it’s an arresting sight, and the Orcish metalwork is not something you see in Turai every day.

“Why not? You’re meant to be going there as Lisutaris’s bodyguard, so it would be appropriate.”

“But am I meant to be appropriate?” says Makri. “Don’t Senators go dressed as pirates and things like that?”

“I believe so.”

“So if I’m really there as a bodyguard, shouldn’t I be dressed as maybe a philosopher?”

Night is closing in. I should probably flee the city soon. I explain to Makri that while it is customary for people to attend these masked ball in costumes which may bear no relation to their normal station in life, it’s not something that is governed by rules.

“I doubt if Cicerius is going to dress up as a pirate. Probably he’ll go as the Deputy Consul, but wear some discreet little mask. Only the more extrovert sort of Senator will turn up in outlandish garb.”

Makri nods her head.

“I see. So really, any costume is fine?”

“I expect so.”

“I suppose a person might gain some social status by turning up in an especially fine costume. It would get noticed, I imagine.”

“Yes, Makri, you seem to be getting the hang of it. Could we stop discussing it now? I seem to have some other pressing matters to attend to.”

“Okay,” says Makri. “I just wanted to get it clear. From what you say, my bodyguard costume should do fine. And after all, how many people will be there in a full set of light Orcish armour? Not many, I’m sure. And I don’t often get the chance to wear the helmet. Thanks, Thraxas.”

Makri now looks happy. Obviously the costume problem was preying on her mind. Despite my numerous problems, I still manage to get annoyed that I’m not invited. Until it strikes me that the masked ball does present an excellent opportunity for getting myself unnoticed into Lisutaris’s house.

“Of course,” I exclaim. “I’ll dress up as something and just waltz in tomorrow evening. I give the pendant back to Lisutaris, she shows it to the Consul and the main problem disappears. Once the threat to national security is out of the way, I can start proving I haven’t been going round killing or blackmailing people. Lisutaris will speak up for me once I’ve solved her problem.”

Makri purses her lips.

“But you’re not invited.”

“So what? I’ll forge an invitation.”

“You just can’t stand it that I’m going to the ball and you’re not invited,” says Makri.

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Very likely. Admit it, Thraxas, you’ve been plotting to go to Lisutaris’s ball from the moment you learned I was going. It’s really not mature behaviour.”

“Will you stop this? I don’t give a damn that you’re going to some party. I have no wish to attend and am merely planning to do so in order to bring the case to a conclusion.”

“You don’t fool me for a moment,” says Makri, and looks cross. “What if you’re found out? People will think I let you in.”

“Who’s going to think that?”

“Everyone.”

“Well so what? Since when did you care what Turai’s aristocracy thought of you?”

“I just don’t want to be humiliated at my first major social function.”

I clutch my hand to my brow, something I don’t do that often.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Are you still dazed from staring into the jewel? I have important business to take care of.”

Makri remains convinced that I wish merely to attend the ball.

“You had better not embarrass me.”

“Me embarrass you? Who was it got so wasted at the Sorcerers Assemblage that I had to pick her up and carry her out of the hall? Who threw up in front of the Deputy Consul?”

“That was different. The Sorcerers Assemblage was full of people getting drunk and throwing up. Almost every Sorcerer, from what I remember.”

In the next street a huge mushroom of flame suddenly spurts from the rooftops. Whistles sound and Guards appear from every direction. I shrink further back in the doorway. The flames turn green then disappear.

“Another apparition. They’re getting worse.”

“More unicorns in Twelve Seas today,” agrees Makri.

“I have to get going now. I’m going to hide down by the docks. I have the pendant safe with me. Providing Horm or Glixius don’t find me, I’ll meet you at Lisutaris’s house tomorrow. See what you can find out about the secretary.”

“What?”

“Avenaris. I have strong suspicions about her. I think she had some involvement with Barius.”

“Why?”

“Investigator’s intuition. One other thing. The body count is way out of control. People are dying everywhere. I don’t exactly know how Moxalan is going to prove which deaths are connected to me, but in case it turns out they all are, get the last of the money and put a bet on sixty.”

“Sixty?”

“That’s right. See you tomorrow.”

“What are you going to do for a costume?”

“Good question. You’ll have to find something for me.”

“Just fit on a pair of tusks and go as an elephant,” suggests Makri, who’s still showing signs of resentment at my plan to attend the ball. I ignore her jibe.

“Bring me my toga.”

“You have a toga?”

“Yes, from my days at the Palace. It’s under the bed. And some sort of mask. You can find one in the market.”

“It won’t be as good as my bodyguard costume,” says Makri. “Where will I find you?”

“I’m going to hide in the stock pens at the harbour. There’s a warehouse there waiting for some horses to be shipped in, it’ll be empty for a day or two.”

Makri agrees to bring me my toga there tomorrow. I steal away along Quintessence Street, heading off down the first alley I come to. With my excellent knowledge of Twelve Sea’s back roads and alleyways, I should be able to make my way to the harbour undetected by the Civil Guards. It’s lucky I went to see Tanrose. Without her food inside me, I’d never make it through the night.

[Contents]

Chapter Eighteen

I spend a not too uncomfortable night on a pile of hay in a warehouse and remain there as the sun climbs into the sky. The warehouse has various stalls and troughs and is used as a pen for animals brought into the city by sea. Fortunately the owner is still waiting for his imported horses to arrive, so I have the place to myself. Apart from the strong smell of livestock, it doesn’t compare too badly with the Avenging Axe for comfort. I find some bread and dried meat in an unattended office which keeps me going. A watchman looks in every few hours, which has me diving under the hay, but other than that I’m undisturbed. I’m reasonably certain that the Civil Guards won’t look for me here, but I’m half expecting Horm or Glixius to track me down. No one arrives, however, and I spend the day lounging in the hay, eating dried meat, and mulling things over.

It’s the first quiet day I’ve had for a long time. After nine or ten hours lounging in the hay my head is clearer and I’m feeling rested. Maybe it’s not so bad being a horse. In the early evening Makri wanders into the warehouse, whistling softly. I emerge from the hay to greet her.