Martin Scott - Thraxas and the Sorcerers

I finish off my wine.

“Possibly. But the fact remains that I don’t want to go to the Sorcerers Assemblage. And I don’t need the work. I won a lot of money on our trip to Avula.”

“You lost it all before you returned to Turai and you are now sorely in need.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have my own sources of information. You will go to the Assemblage.”

Every time I end up working for the Deputy Consul, it’s something I’d rather not be doing. It never seems to bother him.

“You know the Sorcerers don’t allow civilians at the Assemblage? It’s Guild members and their staff only, and they’re strict about it. So unless you can get me a position as Lisutaris’s secretary, they’re not going to let me in.”

“I doubt that you would be an acceptable secretary for Lisutaris,” replies Cicerius. “But I have already dealt with the problem. The Sorcerers Guild does allow several observers from the government of the host city to attend, as a matter of courtesy. I will be there for much of the time.”

“You’re the Deputy Consul. If I walk into the Assemblage claiming to be a government official they’ll be down on me like a bad spell.”

Cicerius makes an impatient gesture.

“As I said, I have dealt with the problem. You will be there as a representative of the people of Turai. I am nominating you as a Tribune of the People.”

“A what?”

“A Tribune of the People. Are you not familiar with this post?”

I shake my head.

“It used to be a famous position in Turai. There were six Tribunes of the People, and they played an important role in the governance of the city. They were, as the name implies, responsible for representing the interests of the general population in city affairs. Three were elected by the population and three were nominated by the King and his administration.”

“When was this?”

“The institution fell into disuse about one hundred and fifty years ago. But it is still within my power to nominate Tribunes. I have already appointed Sulinius and Visus, both Senators’ sons, to assist at the Assemblage. You will be the third.”

I drink more wine. It’s a fine vintage. Though not given to excessive drinking, Cicerius keeps his cellars well stocked. An aristocrat has to, or he loses status.

“How come the post of Tribune was abandoned?”

“They fell out of favour with the King when they became too keen on supporting radical policies. After some civil unrest it was felt that they were no longer necessary, which was wise. It is far better to leave the administration of a city to the King and his officials. But none of this need concern you. You are not expected to do anything as Tribune. It is merely a convenient way of gaining access to the Assemblage.”

I’m dubious.

“Are you sure I don’t have to do anything? If there are any official duties involved, I’m not interested.”

Cicerius assures me there are no duties involved.

“Look on it as a temporary honorary post.”

“Is there a salary?”

“No. But we will be paying you for your time. Now listen carefully. We are facing some formidable opposition. The Simnians have nominated one of their own Sorcerers, and the Simnians are enemies of Turai. It is vital that their candidate is not elected. Unfortunately, Lasat, Axe of Gold, acting head of the Sorcerers Guild, is believed to favour them, which makes our task more difficult. Our city will have to make a great effort to ensure that Lisutaris gathers sufficient votes to at least make it into the final stages of the process. Are you familiar with Tilupasis, widow of Senator Gerinius?”

“I’ve heard of her. Runs some sort of salon.”

“Indeed. She is commonly described as Turai’s most influential woman.”

“Didn’t she publicly criticise you a while back? Something to do with wasting money on a statue?”

Cicerius brushes this away.

“We have had our disagreements. Tilupasis has an unfortunate habit of speaking out of turn. Nonetheless, she is a woman of considerable influence. She has proved herself to be a highly efficient organiser, and the King himself was pleased at the reception she gave for our Elvish visitors last year. Consul Kalius feels that she can play an important role in the vote-winning process.”

Cicerius, great speaker that he is, doesn’t give away too much in the way of unguarded emotions, but I get the feeling he’s not entirely convinced about this. Women are forbidden to enter politics in Turai, and an aristocratic Traditional like the Deputy Consul never feels wholly comfortable with any sign of female influence in the city. However, Cicerius can’t disregard the views of the Consul, his superior.

“Kalius trusts Tilupasis. . .” continues Cicerius.

I bet he does. They’re strongly rumoured to be having an affair.

“. . . and indeed, there is every reason to believe that she will perform her duties of hospitality well. I have already instructed Visus and Sulinius to listen to her views respectfully, and I now tell you the same. With Tilupasis to organise our hospitality, Visus and Sulinius to cater to the Sorcerers’ needs, and you to make sure there is nothing untoward going on, I am confident that Turai can succeed.”

Cicerius carries on in this manner for some time. My spirits sink lower. Arrogant Sorcerers, wealthy young senators’ sons and Turai’s most influential matron. What a collection. I’ll be the only ignobly born person in the whole place and probably as welcome as an Orc at an Elvish wedding. Thraxas, Tribune of the People. That’s going to cause a few laughs when word gets around Twelve Seas.

[Contents]

Chapter Four

The journey home is grim. I never figured I’d come so close to death just riding in a landus along Quintessence Street. Not for the first time I bitterly regret not saving enough of my winnings from Avula to buy some furs. I burst into the Avenging Axe and beg Tanrose to provide me with some hot food, before positioning myself as close to the fire as I can get without actually stepping over the grate.

Makri is wiping tables and collecting tankards.

“Have a good time with the philosopher?” I say, cuttingly. “Nice and warm in my cloak?”

“Yes thank you,” responds Makri. “The magic cloak is a great creation.”

“Well, it’s the last time you get your hands on it. I nearly died out there. Damn that Cicerius, he’s not human. You know he wants me to go to the Sorcerers Assemblage?”

I’m feeling angry about all things sorcerous. It’s ridiculous to hold their convention in the depths of winter.

“They’re only doing it to show off. No one else can move because of the snow, but the Sorcerers will all come rolling into the city boasting about how easy it was for them to manipulate the weather and what pleasant journeys they had. Braggarts, all of them. This job is a waste of time. Who cares who gets the post as leader of the Guild?”

“Samanatius says it’s a very important position,” says Makri.

“He would. Shouldn’t you be bringing me a beer instead of talking about philosophy all the time?”

“There’s nothing wrong with philosophy.”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“It’s enriching,” says Makri.

I find this very annoying.

“If you were enriched you wouldn’t have to wear that ridiculous chainmail bikini.”

“Samanatius says that women who are obliged to exhibit themselves to make a living are not degraded by the experience,” says Makri stiffly. “The audience are.”

“Samanatius is an idiot. Bring me a beer.”

“Get your own beer,” says Makri, which is hardly the way for any barmaid to talk to a customer. She should learn some manners.