“Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, killed Darius Cloud Walker.”
Cicerius protests.
“This is impossible.”
“We have seen clear pictures,” insists Ramius. “She must be apprehended immediately.”
Ramius becomes aware of our presence, and looks round. He ignores me, but when he sees Makri he recognises her immediately.
“She was in the room with Darius when he died. As was Princess Direeva. What has been happening in this city? Deputy Consul, are you going to send for the Guards or must I rouse the Council of Sorcerers to apprehend Lisutaris?”
At this moment Tilupasis strides confidently into the room.
“I have sent for Consul Kalius. He will be here shortly. Until then, this news must not be allowed to spread.”
“And why not?” demands Lasat.
“It may prejudice Lisutaris’s chances in the final test.”
“The final test? Lisutaris will not be entering any final test. As Senior Sorcerer I am disqualifying her immediately.”
If Tilupasis has a reply to this, she saves it for now, but she motions for Hansius to shut the door.
“Consul Kalius will take care of the matter.”
Lasat, Axe of Gold, reluctantly agrees to await the arrival of Turai’s highest official, but I can’t see it doing anything but buying us a few minutes’ grace. Axe of Gold is not the sort of person to be pushed around by city officials. As Senior Sorcerer of the Guild, and one of the most powerful people in the west, he’s not about to take orders from Tilupasis or Cicerius. He’d bring down the city wall before buckling under to a mere government official.
Beside me Makri still looks unwell. I wonder if she might be sick again. On one memorable occasion she threw up over the Crown Prince’s sandals. Taking aim at the Consul’s feet would certainly lighten things up. Vomiting over Lasat, Axe of Gold, would be even more sensational.
The noise of celebrating Sorcerers drifts into the room, but we wait, quiet and grim, for Kalius to arrive.
[Contents]
Chapter Sixteen
Consul Kalius is the city’s highest official. Praetor Samilius is head of the Civil Guard. Old Hasius the Brilliant is Chief Investigating Sorcerer at the Abode of Justice. Rittius is in charge of Palace Security and Orius Fire Tamer is his Senior Investigating Sorcerer. Along with Lasat, Axe of Gold, Charius the Wise and Sunstorm Ramius, it makes for an impressive gathering. I don’t like the way they’re all looking at me.
“I firmly believe Lisutaris to be innocent.”
“We would like to believe you,” says Kalius.
“But we don’t,” adds Ramius.
“What grounds do you have for thinking her to be innocent?”
Consul Kalius looks at me hopefully. I’ve got most of Turai’s officialdom on my side. A rare occurrence. Unfortunately, it comes at a time when I’m faced with an almost impossible task. Now that Old Hasius the Brilliant and Lasat, Axe of Gold, have pierced the hiding spell, the pictures are very clear, and they never change. Lisutaris stabs Darius, every time. Praetor Samilius has enquired repeatedly of the Sorcerers if there could be trickery involved, but they’re adamant there could not be.
“No one possesses such power.”
“I told you, I discovered a spell that could do it.”
“You discovered it?” Ramius is cynical. But Sorcerers never like to admit there might be spells they don’t know.
“A spell to project false events into the past? It can’t be done.”
“Well, not exactly project spells into the past. But a spell for erasing past events.”
Once more, I’ve had to explain my theory of a spell of erasement and a spell of making. To the non-Sorcerers present it’s confusing, and to the Sorcerers it’s unbelievable.
“I have checked repeatedly,” insists Old Hasius. “And I firmly believe these to be the real events. Were it not so, I would have located the true reality.”
“Not if it was erased.”
“Even if such an erasement spell was used successfully, how was the new reality created?”
“I don’t know. But anyone who’s good enough to do the first part might pull off the second. We can’t be sure that Lisutaris did the murder.”
I look round at the doubtful faces. The Turanian officials are desperate for Lisutaris to be innocent. Even against their better judgment they’d be willing to believe me, but I’m not making any impression on Lasat or Ramius. They’re insisting that Lisutaris be arrested.
It’s a bitter blow. Cicerius, the most patriotic of Turanians, has hardly said a word. He’s sitting in the corner looking as miserable as a Niojan whore, though that’s not an expression I’d use to him right now, as Nioj is a sore point. Almalas came third in the ballot. If Lisutaris is disqualified, he’ll go into the final contest in her place. Not only will Turai suffer the monumental disgrace of having our candidate arrested for murder, we’ll face the prospect of a hostile new head of the Sorcerers Guild. Niojan or Simnian, neither one is going to rush to the aid of Turai.
“I feel you are not telling us everything,” says Samilius. The Praetor was appointed to the post of head of the Civil Guard as a political reward and is not an experienced Investigator, but he’s shrewd enough. He suspects I’ve been involved in all this more than I’m saying. So far no one realises that the murder took place in my rooms at the Avenging Axe, and I’m not about to enlighten them.
“I know no more than you. But I’ve been keeping close to Lisutaris since the Assemblage started and I’m sure she did not commit the crime. She had no reason to.”
“We saw her do it! In the presence of Princess Direeva and the other woman.”
“Both women of Orcish blood,” notes Sunstorm Ramius. “I insist that you inform the King and arrest Lisutaris.”
He looks to Lasat, Golden Axe. The Senior Sorcerer nods his head.
“I agree.”
“We must at least wait till we hear what Lisutaris has to say,” says Cicerius.
“Where is she?”
“I believe she usually meditates at this time. My assistant is looking for her now.”
At this moment Lisutaris arrives, accompanied by Hansius. Despite the gravity of the situation, the Mistress of the Sky remains calm. This might be due to thazis, but maybe not. Back in the war, she never panicked under pressure. Before she can be questioned, Consul Kalius orders that those not directly involved be removed from the room. This seems to mean me, Makri and Tilupasis.
“Take them to a secure place and do not let them speak to anyone,” commands Kalius. We’re led away by a sergeant of the Guard, through the main hall and along a short corridor to another room.
I don’t know if this performance fools anyone else, but it’s obvious to me that the procedure has been worked out by Tilupasis and Kalius to give us some freedom to act. So it proves. Once secure in a private room, Tilupasis starts issuing orders.
“Makri. Go back and wait for Lisutaris. If they take her anywhere, follow them and make sure she’s safe.”
Makri nods, aware that it’s time to be performing her bodyguard duties. Now that there’s action afoot, Makri has ceased to look ill. She departs. Tilupasis dismisses the sergeant.
“Did you get it?” she enquires briskly.
“You know a good Sorcerer can eavesdrop on a conversation,” I point out.
“Not here. We had this room lined with Red Elvish Cloth precisely for an occasion like this.”
Red Elvish Cloth forms a barrier to magic. No Sorcerer can pry through it. It’s fabulously expensive, and lining the room with it must have cost a fortune. If Lisutaris ever gets elected, the citizens of Turai will be paying for it for a long time.