Makri understands how bad this all is. When the Sorcerers Guild clear away the hiding spell, Lisutaris will be handed over to the authorities and sent for trial. Despite the evidence Makri is still convinced that Lisutaris didn’t kill Darius.
“Why?”
“Intuition.”
I don’t dismiss Makri’s intuition but I trust my own better. And it’s not sending me anything very positive right now. Maybe it’s the cold.
“What a mess,” I mutter.
All the while I’m wondering about Covinius, the Assassin. Could he have anything to do with this? I need to talk to Hanama, and quickly. We arrive at the Royal Hall. Lisutaris hasn’t yet turned up.
“She’ll be having her hair done by Copro,” Makri tells me. “She’s hired him for every morning of the Assemblage. Wants to make a good impression.”
“She’s going to make a hell of an impression soon.”
All around the Sorcerers are arriving, greeting each other. Many of them are notably less ebullient than yesterday. The mood will pick up when their hangovers fade. I look around for Irith Victorious. I’m planning on discreetly pumping him for information on Darius Cloud Walker. Juval borders Abelasi and the Sorcerers should know each other well. Maybe someone else wanted Darius out of the way.
Before I leave Makri I bring up the subject of the Turanian Assassins Guild. In particular, Hanama, number three in the hierarchy.
“You’re friendly with Hanama.”
“No I’m not.”
“Well, you’re as friendly as a person can be with an Assassin. I need to talk to her but she’s not answering my messages. Before I’m reduced to storming their headquarters, how about you have a word with her?”
“I’m not friendly with her,” protests Makri.
“You meet at gatherings of the Association of Gentlewomen.”
“She doesn’t go to meetings,” says Makri.
She’s lying. I guess it’s meant to be a secret.
Tilupasis takes the bad news much better than Cicerius. For her it’s just another problem to be solved, like buying votes.
“You must keep it quiet and find out the truth,” she instructs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Once you find out the truth, Kalius and Praetor Samilius will be able to arrest the murderer without involving Lisutaris. It need not spoil her chances of winning.”
“It will spoil them plenty if she really did it.”
“Nothing will spoil Lisutaris’s chances of election while I’m running her campaign,” says Tilupasis firmly. “If she’s guilty of murder then you will have to find some way of disguising the fact.”
“And how am I meant to do that?”
“You’re a sorcerous Investigator. It’s what you do.”
“What I do is catch petty thugs, slug them and send them to jail. Large-scale conspiracy isn’t my forte. And if the Sorcerers Guild catches me trying to hoodwink them they’ll be down on me like a bad spell.”
“I have great confidence in you,” says Tilupasis. “Keep me informed of all developments and let me know if you need money. I’ll instruct my operatives to learn what they can to assist you. Now, how is your companion Makri getting along with Princess Direeva? I’m very optimistic about this.”
“I doubt that Makri will enjoy being used as bait for Direeva’s votes.”
What Makri might enjoy doesn’t concern Tilupasis. She departs to carry on the campaign and I depart for a beer.
Irith Victorious is sitting at a table, looking a little the worse for wear.
“How are you today, Irith?”
“Not quite as happy as an Elf in a tree,” he replies. “Won’t feel myself till I get a few drinks in. Care to join me?”
“Of course.”
Today there are some organised events at the Assemblage. Classes for learning new spells, swapping lore from around the west, that sort of thing. Irith tells me he isn’t quite up to learning anything new right now, though he’s in the market for a magic pocket which can store beer without it going stale.
I’m looking for information on Darius. As a means of raising the subject I tell Irith I placed a bet on Lisutaris.
“Rash behaviour, Thraxas. Sunstorm Ramius is the man, I’m sure. Though I’d rather see Darius or Lisutaris in the post. Even Rokim, though I’m not keen on Samsarinans as a rule. Ramius is too much of an old soldier for me, he’ll have the Guild declaring war on the Orcs at the first excuse. Me, I like my life more peaceful. You think Lisutaris is keen on going to war?”
“Only if the thazis plants are threatened.”
“I might vote for her. I admire a woman with a respectable hobby.”
Other Juvalian Sorcerers drift in, each in a similar state to Irith. I pick up some useful information. Mainly of the negative sort, however. Darius has no obvious enemies. Gets on with most people, apart from apprentices. As Sorcerers are always firing their apprentices, that’s not much to go on, but I file it away to check out later. I nose around for more but as it’s not yet known that Darius Cloud Walker is now firmly rooted to the ground, I can’t press too much for fear of giving myself away.
Sunstorm Ramius strides through the room, greeting us as he passes.
“Just off to teach some Samsarinans how to purify poisoned water with a simple spell,” he informs us. “Care to come along?”
The Juvalians decline. They’re not quite in the mood for instruction today. Ramius smiles indulgently. I get the impression he doesn’t entirely approve of the manners of the Juvalians, but as a man who’s looking for votes he can’t go around being rude to the electorate.
“What sort of candidate is he?” says Irith. “Didn’t even offer to buy us a drink. Anyone seen Darius? He ought to be good for a beer or two. Hey, Thraxas, is Lisutaris handing out any free thazis?”
I grin at the large Sorcerer.
“I take it you’re not planning on much studying at the Assemblage?”
His companions guffaw at the notion.
“I haven’t learned a new spell in fifteen years,” replies Irith. “I’ve got plenty already. Who needs more? Are you going to talk all morning or are you going to finish that beer?”
A few hours later, slightly the worse for wear, I wander off in search of Lisutaris, finding her in a corner of the main hall, sitting beside Makri. Makri is again wearing her full armour but the effect is spoiled by her floppy green hat, which is the sort of thing sported only by small Elvish children.
Makri tells me she bought a new stud for her nose.
“It’s magic. Look, if you touch it it goes gold. Touch it again it goes silver. Then it goes gold. . .”
“. . . and then it goes silver. That’s great. Any information?”
I’m looking at Lisutaris. She’s looking at the ceiling. Or possibly the sky. I frown.
“I take it your recent troubles haven’t led you to lay off the thazis?”
Lisutaris slumps forward on to the table.
“She’s under a lot of stress,” says Makri.
I glance around. Approaching fast is a delegation of Sorcerers from Mattesh.
“For God’s sake, Makri, can’t you keep her under control? If these Sorcerers see her like this they’re never going to vote for her. Get her out of here.”
Makri stands up. She sways, clutches at her head, and sits down again.
“Sorry,” she says.
I glare at her.
“As a bodyguard you’re about as much use as a eunuch in a brothel.”
“I’ve been under a lot of stress.”
The Sorcerers draw near. I hoist Lisutaris to her feet and start walking her rapidly in the other direction.
“Tell me about your new spell for protecting a whole city!” I boom, trying to give a good impression while I drag the number one Turanian Sorcerer to the safety of a side room. Makri struggles along behind us. I dump the Mistress of the Sky on a couch. Makri slumps beside her. I take out my flask of klee and pour a healthy dose down my throat.