Read Thraxas and the Ice Dragon Online
Authors: Martin Scott
"Some. I think I know what's been going on. I'll need to visit the King's Record House again."
"I'll come with you tomorrow," says Makri.
"If you win the tournament you'll still be celebrating."
"I won't be."
"You should celebrate."
We walk on, past the tree where Makri frightened my assailant. "I know you freed the dragon," I say.
"What?"
"I know you freed the dragon."
"No I didn't! And how could you possibly know anyway?"
"When you bring me beer and encourage me to sleep, I'd say it's a good sign you want me out the way for a while. And when you're wondering if your swords can cut through sorcery…" I halt, and turn to my companion. "So, what happened?"
"It took a while. But I managed to cut the ropes and branches. I made a big enough gap for the dragon to get through."
"What happened then?"
"He licked my face, and flew off."
I nod.
"Don't tell Lisutaris," says Makri. "She might not like it."
"That you've gone directly against the King's orders, and freed the creature that was his pride and joy? Yes, I'd say she might not like it."
"Do you think it would affect her status?"
"I think it would get her thrown out of the country. And you executed, if the King finds out you're responsible. If we're lucky, he'll think that Lasat's sorcery wasn't strong enough to hold it."
I regard Makri's actions as extremely foolish, and almost bound to have dire consequences, but I can't raise that much emotion about it. So much has happened over the past few weeks that one small dragon flying around freely doesn't seem to matter that much. With war approaching, it won't be that long till I'm standing in the middle of a phalanx with a spear in my hand, holding my shield over my head, as a much larger and deadlier dragon swoops down to attack. Probably with an Orcish Sorcerer on its back, firing spells.
"The Orcs will march soon," I say. "If we don't get our War Leader sorted out we'll be in trouble."
"Maybe it will be decided at the meeting," suggests Makri.
It takes us a while to force our way through the crowds at the edge of the tournament, on our way to the King's Meeting House. There are soldiers guarding the approach but they let us through with only a brief search. A few of the soldiers even congratulate Makri on her performances in the tournament, and wish her well. Maybe she'll have a few supporters. Elupus is a Simnian, after all, and Samsarina has never got along all that well with Simnia.
"You're late," hisses Lisutaris as we enter the building through the marble gateway.
"My fault," I say. "I was drinking beer and sleeping. What's happening?"
"Baron Mabados is complaining to the King that the integrity of his tournament has been compromised by sorcery."
"There's no arguing with that. Have you told him it was Lasat who started it?"
"The Samsarinan Sorcerers are blaming me."
At that moment the raised voices of the Barons are quietened as Daringos, the King's Steward, rises to speak. "This is all very unsatisfactory. The sword-fighting tournament is known far and wide. Samsarina's reputation will be damaged if people believe it's no longer honest. The King is deeply shocked that sorcery has been allowed to intrude." Behind him, on his throne, the King nods, letting us know he is indeed shocked.
"What happened to the Tournament Sorcerer?" asks the Simnian Ambassador. "Isn't he responsible for preventing this sort of thing?"
"I've done my best," says Markinos Moonstone. "But remarkably powerful sorcery has been employed." He glares at Lisutaris, as if it's all her fault.
"What do you have to say to this, Mistress of the Sky?" demands Daringos.
Rather than denying everything, Lisutaris decides to go on the offensive. "I had no choice. The Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild have been trying to interfere with my fighter. I was obliged to defend her."
"Nonsense!" cries Charius. "We are completely innocent. It's my belief that Lisutaris's malign spells have been entirely responsible for carrying her protégé this far."
"Makri wouldn't have needed my help if you hadn't attacked her."
"So you admit you've been helping her?" says Charius.
"There should be no sorcery used at all," says Baron Mabados. "I insist it stops."
"I shall certainly not become involved,' says Lasat, grandly.
"Oh, nonsense," I say, addressing the King's Steward. "As Lisutaris's Chief Adviser, I can confirm that Lasat started this whole business. And he's going to keep on doing it. He'll be firing spells all the way through the final, no matter what he says."
"This is outrageous!" says Lasat. "How dare these Turanian refugees cast aspersions on me. I demand satisfaction!"
"I demand you stop using sorcery."
"There must me no more interference!" insists Daringos. "The contest must be fair."
To the discomfiture of the Samsarinans, the Simnians and Niojans take the opportunity to voice some criticisms of Samsarinan incompetence, which annoys everyone, and threatens to derail the meeting. Charius the Wise - who, I should mention, I have never heard utter anything particularly wise - bangs his staff on the ground to get people's attention.
"I have a suggestion," he says.
"Speak, Charius," says the Chief Steward. "Your council is always worth hearing."
"Perhaps the best course of action would be simply to allow Lasat and Lisutaris to do as they please."
"I don't follow you."
"Give them permission to support their fighters in any way they can. Use whatever sorcery they want. Lisutaris can support Makri and Lasat can support Elupus. Let the best sorcerer and fighter win. After all, we've been wondering how to choose a War Leader. Why not let them fight it out?"
Baron Mabados starts to object, but the young King chooses this moment to speak. "I like this! That's what we should do. Lasat and Lisutaris can use their sorcery to support their fighters, and whoever wins I'll support as War Leader."
The King is smiling, obviously taken with the idea. That's enough to convince his Barons. Even the Ambassadors don't seem to object. But from the way Lasat and Charius are looking pleased with themselves, I can tell we're being outmanoeuvred.
"One moment," I say. "Lisutaris will have no problem facing Lasat, but what about the rest of the Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild? It's hardly fair if they all join in against her."
"I'm sure that won't happen," says the King. "Lasat, will that happen?"
"Certainly not, Sire. You have my word that none but I shall use my power."
"Are we meant to believe that?" I look round for support. None is forthcoming. Apparently the King and his Barons actually believe the Samsarinan Sorcerers will play fair. Or they're pretending to believe it, more likely.
"How do you feel about this, Mistress of the Sky?" asks the King.
Lisutaris knows as well as I do that there's no chance of a fair contest, but she's in a difficult position. The King trusts his sorcerers, so it will look bad for her to accuse them of being a bunch of cheats. It will look worse if she refuses the challenge. "That is acceptable to me," she says.
"Splendid," says King Gardos. "It should be an entertaining contest."
The meeting breaks up into a great gaggle of excited talk.
"So it's us against the whole Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild," says Lisutaris, as we head for the exit.
"This isn't fair," I say. "We shouldn't have accepted."
"We didn't seem to have a choice. Charius backed us into a corner. Maybe he's not as stupid as I've always thought."
"Makri," I say. "Try and win the fight before too many spells hit me. They're really painful."
"The Samsarinans will target all of us," says Lisutaris. "It's going to be difficult."
We leave the King's Meeting House, following a stream of Barons, Sorcerers, Ambassadors, Generals, servants and officials, all heading for the tournament fields. The cloudy sky above is dark red, reflecting the glowing bonfires. The air is thick with the aroma of roasting oxen, and noisy with minstrel music and drinking songs. When we reach the edge of the tournament field Lisutaris once again supplies me with the deflecting spell.
"Try actually deflecting some this time," she suggests. "Instead of just letting them bounce off you." She checks my spell-protection charm, and Makri's too. At this moment Lasat will be doing the same for Elupus.
"I wish I could just fight him fairly," says Makri. "I'd beat him."
She would. Makri's recent performances in the arena have been superb. I'd tell her that if she wasn't already big-headed enough about her fighting technique.
"Thraxas, can I have a word?"
I look round. It's Baroness Demelzos, accompanied by a servant, who hangs back, out of earshot.
"Baroness. I don't have much time."
"I know. But the wedding is meant to be tomorrow and Merlione is still refusing to leave the house."
"I think that's quite sensible."
"You can't imagine the trouble it's causing. My husband says he's lost patience. And my son just can't understand why she won't come to the wedding. Are you any nearer to finding out what's been going on?"
"Yes."
"You are?" The Baroness looks surprised.
"I have a good idea of what's behind it all. I don't have any proof yet. If I can, I'll visit you tomorrow, in the morning. Maybe I'll have something for you then."
Demelzos looks momentarily hopeful. "Well at least that's something." She frowns. "Thraxas, from the way your female companions are staring at me, I'm guessing they know about our past."
"I mentioned it to them."
"That was hardly gallant."
"I've never been accused of gallantry."
"How did they react?"
"They laughed."
The Baroness looks offended. "They laughed? That's quite insulting."
"They weren't laughing at you, they were laughing at me. They don't think I'm the sort of man who has affairs with women who go on to be Baronesses."
Demelzos looks over at Lisutaris and Makri, who are indeed staring at us, without bothering to disguise their interest. "Thraxas was quite a catch," says the Baroness. "Quite the dashing young swordsman. Plenty of women in Elath were chasing him." She leans over and places her hand on my arm. "He still has that robust charm, don't you think?"
With that, the Baroness walks swiftly away, disappearing with her servant into the crowd. Lisutaris and Makri look at me with amazement. I don't remember ever seeing Makri's mouth hanging open before. It takes them a few moments before they can speak.
"Robust charm?" says Lisutaris. "Dashing young swordsman?"
"When these women were chasing you," asks Makri. "Was it for unpaid debts?"
I smile at them, as condescendingly as I can. "Laugh all you like. We now have it on good authority that Thraxas, champion sword-fighter, was quite a catch. Shall we proceed to the arena?"
"How am I meant to concentrate after this?" mutters Makri. "It's affected my whole world-view."
I still haven't picked up our winnings on Makri's last fight. While Makri goes off to put on her armour, I hurry down to Big Bixo's betting tent. I have to barge my way through the crowd. It seems like the whole of Elath is now scrambling to gamble on the final. Combius the armourer is among the throng.
"Come to bet on Makri?" I ask.
Combius looks uncomfortable. "I'm not sure."
"She can beat Elupus."
"Maybe. But now there's sorcery involved."
"Lisutaris is more powerful than Lasat," I tell him.
"I'm not sure about that. Anyway - " Combius lowers his voice. " - people are saying the whole Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild is going to support Elupus. Lisutaris isn't more powerful than twenty Samsarinan sorcerers."
"Yes she is. Bet on Makri, she'll win."
Combius goes away, still looking doubtful. I force my way into the tent. I'd expected both Makri and Elupus to be around the same odds, but the strong rumour that Elupus will be assisted by the whole Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild has sent a lot of money in his direction. He's listed at two to five, while Makri is seven to four.
Our 10,000 winnings on the semi-final has taken our funds up to 22,042. I'd be tempted to wager it all, but once more, Bixo will only accept a bet of 5000 gurans. I place the bet, then hurry over to Generous Ges, where I do the same. As I leave, I'm silently cursing all bookmakers for their parsimony. If you're losing they'll take every guran off you. Once you start winning, they put a limit on your bets. Still, 10,000 gurans at seven to four isn't bad.
The final is due to start any minute. I rush back to the tournament field. Once there, my spirit sags as I observe the number of Samsarinan sorcerers ranged against us. They seem to be everywhere. I try not to let my anxiety show.
"Just concentrate on giving Elupus a good beating," I tell Makri. "We'll take care of the rest."
Elupus isn't a particularly tall man, but he has a strong frame and a very powerful sword-arm. He's a colourful character, as evinced by the bright silver design on his shield, and the purple ribbon he wears on his helmet, a favour for some lady or other. He's let his hair grow so it hangs down his back in a thick pony tail. That's normal for a lower-class Turanian like me, but unusual for a Simnian. Like most veterans of the arena, he carries some facial scars. When he arrives in the centre of the arena he has the audacity to bow politely to Makri, as if it were a social occasion. Makri doesn't return his bow.
My senses are again humming from the pent-up sorcery all around. I'll be lucky to make it back to he perimeter before someone fires a spell. The Marshal raises his flag and I retreat hastily towards Lisutaris. The Head of the Sorcerers Guild is ready for action. Her hair is thrust back untidily behind her ears, tied with a scrap of rainbow cloth. Her hands are already glowing with a faint purple light. Now, with no need to conceal her actions, her whole body begins to radiate magic, The entire surface of her eyes, whites and pupils, turn the same shade of purple. It's an eerie sight, something that only occurs among the most powerful Sorcerers.