“I take it he didn’t appreciate your security checks?”
“Not much. He objected quite violently when I asked him what he had for breakfast for the past thirty days. You know he was missing from the island for a day? He claims it was his standard religious duty as Lord of Avula but it could be suspicious.” Young Sendroo looks quite happy at the thought. She’s enjoying the opportunity of disconcerting her Elf Lord. I warm to her insubordinate spirit.
“Good work,” I tell her. “Keep it up. I want you to check every Elf who’s anywhere near Lisutaris. Any complaints, inform them that Captain Thraxas, Chief Security Officer of the Commander’s Personal Security Unit, has given you full authorisation to make their lives uncomfortable.”
Droo departs upstairs to collect her belongings.
“You don’t really think Lord Kalith-ar-Yil could be Deeziz the Unseen, do you?” asks Anumaris.
“Not really. But he gave me a hard time when I was on his island. I don’t mind seeing him discomfited.”
“Do we even know that Deeziz can impersonate a man? Or a male Elf?”
“No, we don’t. In Turai she appeared as a female singer. But before that we thought she was male. There doesn’t seem to be any firm evidence either way. Given her powers, it’s best to assume she could impersonate anyone.”
When our wagon is fully loaded with provisions, arms and sundry equipment, we have a very long wait as the units of the army still within the walls of the city trundle slowly through the great gates to join those assembled outside. Rinderan takes the reigns with Anumaris beside him while Droo and I sit in the back. We’re just on the point of passing through the gate when Makri unexpectedly clambers into the wagon and lies on the floor. I look down at her. Despite her fervour for war, she hasn’t cut her hair, which is extremely long and thick, and now covers quite a large part of the wagon’s wooden, slatted flooring.
“Shouldn’t you be guarding our War Leader?”
“Top secret conference,” she explains. “Only Lisutaris, Hemistos, Ritari and Kalith allowed. I’ve been excused. I thought I’d see how you were.”
“I see.”
We move slowly through the gate into the fields outside.
“Is that the only reason you’re here?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re lying on the floor looking like a woman who’s hiding from someone.”
“Why is Makri hiding?” ask Droo.
“Because she has the emotional maturity of a five-year-old and can’t face her Elvish ex-lover.”
Makri looks anguished. “They’ve made him an Liaison Officer! Why did they do that? He’s always bringing messages to Lisutaris. I have to keep ducking out of sight.”
“Makri, this is pitiful. You can’t spend the entire war hiding from an Elf. We’re meant to be on the same side.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky,” says Makri. “I might get killed quickly.”
Throughout this, young Droo has been listening. “What’s this about? What happened?”
“Makri had a brief affair when we visited your island. Apparently it didn’t finish well. He never contacted her afterwards.”
“Ooh!” Droo is very interested in this. “Who was it? Maybe I know him.”
“His name was See-ath,” mumbles Makri, still taking care to keep herself out of sight.
Droo laughs, rather tactlessly. “See-ath? That explains it.”
“What do you mean?”
“See-ath has hundreds of lovers. He’s famous for it.”
“No he isn’t,” says Makri, angrily. “He told me he was shy and hardly talks to women.”
At this, Droo positively explodes with mirth. Makri flushes an angry shade of red.
“Stop laughing!”
“Sorry. But it’s funny. Really, See-ath isn’t shy with women. He’s had lots of lovers.”
“How many?”
“Probably one a week. No, that’s an exaggeration. One a month. No, that’s not quite right either. Say one every two weeks or so. Two a month. Maybe little more.”
Makri’s face is grim. “He told me I was special.”
“You sent him a sorcerous message threatening to cut his head off.” I point out. “That probably counts as special. Not in a good way, obviously.”
“Oh God.” Makri buries her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I sent him all these messages. I’ll have to flee. Tell Lisutaris I caught the plague and you had to bury me quickly.”
At that moment Lisutaris hauls herself into the wagon, quite athletically. “Why is Makri pretending to die of the plague? I thought you were keen to go to war? Makri, I expected better of you.”
“It’s private,” says Makri, hopelessly.
“Not that private,” says Droo. “Thraxas knows about it. So do I. See-ath probably told a few people as well, especially if you’ve been threatening to chop his head off.”
Makri cringes. I struggle not to laugh. There’s something engaging about Droo’s lack of tact.
“What’s this?” demands Lisutaris. She looks pointedly at Makri. Makri unwillingly explains her situation again. Lisutaris seems interested, then frowns. “Last year I remember asking the communications sorcerer Jurias if he could send an important message to the Elvish Isles. He said it would have to wait, as he’d used up all his magic for another client. He needed time to recover. Was that your doing?”
“It might have been,” says Makri, gloomily. “I did send a lot of messages.”
“Fascinating,” I say. “Who’d have thought that Makri’s hopeless romance would end up destroying the war effort?”
“Could we stop talking about this?” demands Makri. “I’m over it now anyway.” She rises to her feet, looking quite fierce.
“I’d no idea you had a history with See-ath,” says Lisutaris. “It does sound embarrassing. But perhaps he won’t remember you?”
“Not much chance of that,” I say. “Makri was the only person with Orcish blood ever to land on Avula. She made quite an impression. After she fell in a ceremonial pool they had to perform a special ritual to cleanse it.”
“Could we talk about something else?” says Makri. She scowls. “I’ve had enough of Elves.”
Lisutaris brings the conversation to an end by telling Ensign Droo that she’s here to discuss a private matter with her Chief Security Officer, meaning me.
“I’ll see if I can find more beer,” says Droo cheerfully, as she hops out of the wagon.
“I see she’s fitting in well with your unit,” says Lisutaris, as the young Elf departs. “I’m here to talk about our visit to the oracle. We’ll be leaving the night after tomorrow. Be ready to meet outside the camp after midnight.”
“Commander, I’m still worried about this excursion. If Deeziz the Unseen has infiltrated our forces already then she might know about it. It would be the perfect opportunity for an ambush. I don’t think you should go.”
“I won’t be defenceless. Coranius, Ibella and I can muster a lot of sorcerous power. You’ll be with me. And Makri.”
“I don’t like it either.” Makri shakes her head. “All it would take would be one well placed arrow when you were vulnerable.”
“It’s very risky, leaving the army and trailing off through the countryside in a small group. You’re our War Leader. The West needs you.”
Lisutaris doesn’t dismiss our concerns out of hand, but she won’t be swayed. “There might be some risk, but it’s small. No one apart from your unit and Hanama knows we’re going.”
“I haven’t finished security checks on Hanama yet.”
“I assure you she really is Hanama.”