“Because he knows I’m one of the few sensible men left in the West, and he wanted advice.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Mainly that I didn’t want to talk about babies.”
“He’d be a good father,” says Makri.
“He would be. But he’s worried he won’t be alive long enough to see the child. That’s a sensible worry. If this campaign continues to go downhill none of us will be around for long.”
We’re still trundling slowly over the low hills on the approach to the border between Simnia and Nioj. We’ll be meeting up with the Niojan army any time now. I wonder what sort of reports Legate Apiroi and Bishop-General Ritari have been sending them.
“I found out something odd about Tirini Snake Smiter,” I tell Makri, lowering my voice so that Anumaris won’t overhear. “She doesn’t come from the respectable family she claims. I don’t think she came from Turai’s upper class at all. Her father was a sewer inspector. If he’s the man I used to know, he was about as low class as me, which is very low, in Turanian terms.”
“Why would Tirini lie about that?”
“You lived in Turai long enough to know what it’s like. Class makes a lot of difference. The upper classes are obsessed with status and they don’t like sharing their privileges.”
Makri, as a foreign female gladiator with Orcish blood, had the lowest status it was possible to have in Turai, so she knows what I’m talking about. Even so, she’s puzzled about Tirini.
“Sorcerers don’t have to come from the aristocracy, do they?”
“Most sorcerers are the sons and daughters of respectable families. Not the highest aristocracy, but respectable. There are a few from the lower classes but they don’t get far in the Sorcerers Guild. Not promoted to the best posts. I suppose Tirini didn’t want to admit her background, particularly as she was so obsessed with being Turai’s most glamorous woman. I can understand that. But I’m puzzled.”
“Why?”
“I wouldn’t have thought it was easy for her to hide her background from other sorcerers. Not when she started out, anyway. When she first went to the Sorcerers College, she couldn’t have had that much power. The professors there should have seen through any attempt at deception. They do look into their students' background as part of the induction process.”
Makri takes a small bag from a pocket inside her armoured tunic.
“Lisutaris gave me this.”
“So she hasn’t stopped using it?”
“She’s cut down a lot. Quite a lot. Well, she doesn’t smoke as much as she used to.” Makri rolls up the thazis into a stick and lights it. She inhales then passes it to me. We smoke it peacefully together for a few minutes.
“What’s wrong with being a sewer inspector anyway?” asks Makri.
“Pardon?”
“You said Tirini was ashamed of her father being a sewer inspector. I don’t see why anyone would be ashamed of working on the sewers. Haven’t you used them during your investigations?”
“Once or twice.”
“And we escaped from the city via the sewers. You might say they saved Lisutaris’s life. Anyway, they’re a good piece of architecture.”
“They are?”
“Of course. Turai’s sewerage system is one of the best there is, in any city. It was all designed by the Master Architect Janavius.”
“How do you know that?”
“I learned in college. If it wasn’t for the innovations made by Janavius, Turai would be the festering mess it deserves to be. He built eight new tunnels under the city, incorporating three ancient streams into the system, and he was responsible for - ”
I hold up my hand. “Makri, does it ever worry you that you seem able to deliver a lecture on any conceivable subject?”
“No.”
“It worries me.”
“I think you just resent that women can get a good education at the Guild College.”
“I only resent it when they’re lecturing me about it.” I inhale from the thazis stick and pass it back to Makri. “I’ll take your word that our sewers are a marvel of architecture. It might take a while to convince the rest of the population. I can see why Tirini tried to keep it quiet.”
“I suppose so. Though Janavius really deserves more credit for his work. Did you know he was responsible for adding volcanic ash to concrete, which means it can set underwater? He discovered this by - ”
I sigh, and try to block of Makri’s lecture on Turai’s marvel of underground architecture. Once she gets going on this sort of thing, she can be hard to stop. It’s almost a relief when Anumaris Thunderbolt pokes her head through the canvas flap with an angry expression on her face.
“I thought I smelled thazis! You shouldn’t be smoking that.”
“Why not?”
“You shouldn’t be intoxicated when you’re on duty.”
“We’re off duty.”
“No you are not. What if some crisis happens?”
“Then you can deal with it.”
I pass the thazis stick back to Makri. “I thought you were bad, lecturing me about drinking all the time. Anumaris here is ten times worse.”
“I’m just doing my duty!” protests the young sorcerer. “We’re on our way to war. We should be alert at all times. Something could happen.”
“Just drive the wagon, Anumaris. Nothing is going to happen.”
At that moment, Lisutaris, War Leader, Commander of the western armies, appears at the rear of the wagon. She climbs in, quite nimbly.
“I told you something might happen,” says Anumaris.
Chapter Seventeen
I notice our Commander glancing at the thazis stick in Makri’s hand and the bottle of wine in mine. “We were just discussing my investigation.”
Lisutaris frowns. “Have you ever gone through a day without a bottle or flagon in your hand?”
“Eight days at sea, without beer, in a leaky boat, Commander. After I rescued you from Turai.”
Lisutaris smiles, which is a surprise, given her recent hostility. “I should probably be grateful it’s your only vice,” she says. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a bag of thazis, rolling herself a stick with dexterity born of long practice.
“I don’t think you can say that drinking is Thraxas’s only vice,” says Makri. “You’d have to mention gluttony as well. And gambling. He really has a problem with gambling.”
“I’ve come to talk to you about something important - ” begins Lisutaris.
“Then there’s the bad language. And what about his laziness? Sometimes you just can’t move him, no matter what.
“You forgot my tendency to violence,” I growl.
“You see? Drinking, gambling, violence, It’s just one thing after another. I really don’t see how you can say that drinking is Thraxas’s only vice. It’s just not an accurate description of the man.”
Lisutaris purses her lips. “I believe you’ve made your point, Ensign Makri. If I might be allowed to speak?”
“Of course, Commander.”
Lisutaris nudges Droo awake with her toe. “Junior Ensign Sendroo, go outside, get Anumaris, and make sure no one listens to my conversation in here.”
The young Elf nods, and departs swiftly. Lisutaris waves her hand briefly and mutters a spell.
“What was that?”
“To prevent anyone listening in. We can’t be too careful.” The Sorceress inhales deeply from her thazis stick. “I’ve just been in discussion with Legate Apiroi. I’d rather not have been, but he sent me a message I couldn’t ignore. Apparently the Legate has learned I went to the oracle.”