Thraxas and the Ice Dragon (9 page)

"The Baroness asked me to escort you to our western reception room. Merlione is waiting for you."

For what is effectively a holiday home, it's a large enough place. We walk along plain white corridors hung with pictures of the Baron's ancestors, and past the central shrine, where I catch a glimpse of a rather modest statue of St Quatinius. It's some time since I prayed. In Turai it was standard to pray three times a day. Religious rules in Samsarina are different. There's a period in the evening when everything stops for prayer, but no set time during the day. Probably the Barons don't want their farmers suffering too many interruptions as they work in their fields.

I've formed a picture of Demelzos's daughter as a shy girl, full of imaginary fears and worries. It turns out to be not particularly accurate. For one thing, she's a little older than I expected. Eighteen, perhaps. Old enough to have been married off in some favourable dynastic match. The fact that she hasn't been probably says something about the family, but I don't know what. She greets me in a confident enough manner. She's a reasonably attractive young woman - though I'm finding that harder to judge as I get older - dressed quite simply, with a plain blue robe over a long white dress that looks much the same as those worn by most woman in Elath. They're well-cut garments, but you wouldn't necessarily take her for a Baron's daughter. She isn't wearing any fancy jewellery, which would have been obligatory for a rich young woman in Turai. She does sport a discrete queenstone bracelet.

I take a seat and get down to business. "I understand you think someone is trying to kill you?"

"Someone is," she says. "And no, I'm not imagining it."

"Who thinks you're imagining it?"

"Everyone. But they're wrong. And Alceten's death wasn't an accident either, no matter what anyone says. She was murdered."

Merlione looks me in the eye, defying me not to believe her. She has very dark eyes. She looks a little like her mother did when she was younger. It gives me a faint memory of being a lot younger myself.

"Tell me what happened."

"Only if you're here to help find out who killed her. If you're here to try and persuade me it was an accident, I'd rather not."

"I take it you weren't impressed by the original investigation?"

Merlione laughs, quite bitterly. "Investigation? There was no investigation. Daringos, the King's Steward, asked a few questions and believed whatever was easiest for him to believe. The carriage that killed Alceten was owned by Baron Girimos so he wasn't going to cause any trouble there."

"Who's Baron Girimos?"

Merlione looks at me in a rather less friendly manner. "Shouldn't you know that?"

"I'm new in town."

"That wouldn't seem to qualify you to find out the truth."

"Indulge me. I have hidden talents. Who's Baron Girimos?"

"He owns land all over the west of the country. Very rich and important. He's one of the King's main allies, so no one was going to accuse him of anything."

"Do you think Baron Girimos was behind the death of your friend?"

"I don't know. I can't see why he would be. But someone deliberately drove that carriage into Alceten. They said it was just runaway horses but I saw someone driving them. He was lying on the seat, almost hidden from view by the footboard. He couldn't ride properly like that, but he still whipped the horses into action and they mowed down Alceten. The carriage raced off down the street. When it was recovered there was no sign of a driver."

"And no one else saw him?'

"No. But I did."

"This was in the evening? When it was dark?"

"Quite dark, yes."

"And raining?"

Merlione looks offended. "Yes, it was raining. But I know what I saw. There was someone in the carriage."

"Were there any other witnesses?"

"Only Zinlantol. She works at the Record House. She told the King's Steward that there was no one driving the carriage. But she came out the building after Alceten, she can't have seen it properly."

"Has anyone explained why the horses bolted?"

"Daringos told us they must have been startled by some dogs. There are dogs there, sometimes. But I didn't hear any of them barking."

I take this in. I have known horses to be startled into bolting by dogs. I've known people to be killed by runaway carriages too, in narrow city streets. I ask Merlione what she was doing outside the Royal Record House.

"Alceten asked me to meet her. Her father was the Royal Record Keeper."

"Did you often meet her there?"

"Not often," says Merlione. "But sometimes we'd meet before going to the Queen's Bathing House. That day she sent me a message, saying she wanted to see me."

"What about?'

"I don't know. The message just asked me to meet her in the evening."

"And you arrived just in time to see her killed. Do you have any idea at all what might be behind it? Had she any enemies?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Have you?"

Merlione shakes her head, though for the first time in our interview, she looks troubled. "I didn't think so. But I was very close to Alceten when she was run over. I think the carriage was hoping to run us both down. That's not all that's happened. Two days ago I was walking along King's Royal Way and a slate came off a roof and shattered right beside me."

"You think that wasn't an accident?'

"I"m sure it wasn't."

I'm not immediately convinced. A slate falling from a roof isn't that uncommon. King's Royal Way, despite the fancy name, is a fairly dilapidated row of buildings that leads from the Baron's houses into the centre of Elath. The road is in poor repair, and so are the houses.

Merlione sips water from a silver goblet. "Why did my mother hire you?" she asks, abruptly.

"To find things out."

"But you're a stranger in town. Why you?"

"I'm a professional investigator. You don't have any in Elath."

Merlione looks doubtful. "It seems odd to me. Did someone recommend you to her?"

I'd rather avoid the subject of how I know Baroness Demelzos. It strikes me that I haven't had beer for a while.

"Could you send for some beer?"

"You mean wine?"

"No, beer."

"I don't think we have any."

"Servants usually have some."

Merlione is surprised by my request, but claps her hands, causing a servant to hurry in.

"Do we have any beer for our guest?"

The servant gives me a look of withering contempt. "I believe the chef may have a supply in the kitchen."

Merlione is smiling as the servant leaves. "I don't think anyone has ever asked for beer before. Is it true you have an Orcish wife?"

"No. I have a companion who is part-Orc."

"Is she very savage?"

"At times. She's also a scholar."

"Really?' Merlione, who seems altogether friendlier since I asked for beer, leans forward, interested. "What does she study?"

"Everything. Now we've moved in with Arichdamis she's been talking to him about measuring the volume of cones. Or cylinders. Or parabolas. Something like that, I'm not clear about it."

When the servant returns with my beer, I ask Merlione to tell me more of her circumstances. I'm not really convinced that her friend was murdered, or that her life is in danger, but I owe it to Baroness Demelzos to investigate properly. Partly because she's paying me, and partly because I did skip out without saying goodbye properly. Even if it was over twenty years ago, that bothers me a little.

Most of what Merlione tells me I already had some idea of, from Demelzos - her brother's Orgodas's wedding for instance. The household is in a state of high excitement about his upcoming marriage to the eldest daughter of Baron Vosanos, yet another of Samsarina's wealthy nobles. I get the impression that Merlione isn't that close to her brother, or her father, and may not be as interested in the wedding as she should be. I wonder if that might be influencing her reluctance to leave the house, though insisting your life is in danger just to avoid a wedding does seem like taking things to extremes.

Merlione doesn't seem to have any other close friends, even though Elath has plentiful supply of Baron's daughters, who should be suitable companions. But she's a serious young woman, studious maybe. Not the type to spend her time shopping and gossiping. As I take my leave I'm not sure what to make of the whole affair. I have some sympathy for Merlione, who seems like an isolated figure, but whether or not there's any truth in her suspicions, I can't tell.

Outside it's started to rain. The water flows neatly down the gutters in the paved roads around the Barons' houses, but further into town, where the roads are not so well constructed, the earth is beginning to cut up. Many of the buildings are poorly maintained. It wouldn't surprise me if slates fell off the roofs all the time. I walk past the town hall, another not-very-impressive, grey stone construction, and take a look at the water clock in the main square, beside the statue of St Quatinius. The clock was designed, so Makri informs me, by Arichdamis. Water flows through underground pipes and makes it work. I've no idea how.

By now Elath is filling up with people, many of them exotic by local standards. That's partly because of the tournament, and partly because of the approach of war. There's an odd atmosphere. A mixture of anticipation and fear. I recognise the emotion. I've seen it before. People feel reckless, wanting to have some enjoyment in what might be the last weeks of their lives. One or two Elves have appeared, having either risked an early voyage from the Southern Isles, or come overland from neighbouring lands. Sorcerers, mercenaries, soldiers, generals and ambassadors are all arriving in Elath. The King's Guard has increased their patrols, looking for suspicious characters. It strikes me that I'm here in the company of undoubtedly the most suspicious character in the entire country, namely Makri. If she wasn't employed by Lisutaris she'd have been run out of town already, and probably me as well.

Chapter Twelve

I'm looking forward to a few ales and a pie from the larder when I get back to Arichdamis's house. Unfortunately I find the house in uproar, or as much uproar as can be created by one elderly mathematician, two servants and an agitated part-Orc swordswoman, all of whom are engaged in near-incomprehensible babble as I enter the hallway. I have to shout to make myself heard.

"Makri? Shouldn't you be at a meeting with Lisutaris?"

Makri whirls round. "Lisutaris can't go!"

"Why not?"

"Too much thazis. She can't move."

This isn't a huge surprise. I've seen Lisutaris unable to move after too much thazis. Notably, a couple of years ago when I was trapped in a Sorcerer's mansion in Thamlin with a maddened crowd outside baying for blood. On that occasion it took a hefty slap to bring her round. I expect something similar will produce results now. Makri leads me to where Lisutaris is lying in the gardens, her head resting comfortably on a small hillock, a peaceful smile on her face. Beside her is a pile of ash. I take her by the shoulder and shake her.

"Lisutaris. Important meeting. Barons and Sorcerers. You have to get up."

She doesn't stir. I shake her harder.

"It's no good," cries Makri. "She made a new spell for making Arichdamis's thazis more powerful and she's overdone it. What are we going to do?"

Horses hooves clatter along the road, coming to a halt outside Arichdamis house.

"That must be messengers from Lasat, wondering where Lisutaris is," says Makri.

I notice that Makri's hand has drifted towards her sword. "Killing the messengers won't help. They'd just send more."

It's time for swift action. I drag Lisutaris to her feet and thrust her into the arms of Arichdamis and a servant.

"Walk her round the garden. Makri, come with me." I march back though the house and open the front door to find two messengers on the doorstep.

"Lasat Axe of Gold begs to know when Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, plans to arrive at the meeting."

I regard them coolly. "Lasat Axe of Gold must have made a mistake. Lisutaris reconvened the meeting here."

"What?"

"The meeting is to be held here, in Arichdamis's residence."

"But it's meant to be at Lasat's. He won't be pleased at this."

I draw myself up. "Lisutaris is Head of the Sorcerers Guild. She outranks Lasat. In fact, she outranks everyone. So if Lisutaris wants to hold the meeting here, that's where it will be held. Kindly tell Lasat that Lisutaris regrets the mix up in communications, but looks forward to everyone assembling here at their earliest convenience. And pass on the best regards of Thraxas, Chief Adviser to the Head of the Sorcerers Guild."

The messengers don't like it. Still, it's not their job to argue. They mount up, and ride off. Beside me, Makri is impressed. "You really pulled that off well."

"Thank you."

"Although it does strike me that in around fifteen minutes, a collection of angry Barons and Sorcerers are going to discover that Lisutaris is completely intoxicated by thazis, in a country where thazis is illegal."

"So we've got fifteen minutes to get Lisutaris into a fit state."

We hurry back to the garden where Arichdamis and his servant - both quite elderly, and neither of them strong - are still gamely walking Lisutaris around the garden. So far, it doesn't seem to be helping.

"It was very unwise of Lisutaris to boost the power of her thazis," says Arichdamis, who seems shocked by the occurrence. "Is the Mistress of the Sky prone to this sort of excess?"

"Very rarely," I reply, and send the other servant off to make deat, a herbal brew with some powers of sobering up the intoxicated. Makri and I take over walking Lisutaris around while Arichdamis slumps into a garden chair to rest.

"You might want to tell your servants that Barons, Sorcerers and probably some foreign ambassadors will be arriving soon."

Arichdamis leaps to his feet. "What? I'm not ready to receive Barons. We have no food prepared, or drink, or - "

"Tell them there's a war on. Everyone has to rough it a little. Damn you Lisutaris, will you stop grinning stupidly and open your eyes?"