“I still don’t believe Copro is Covinius,“ says Hanama, as we materialise back in Cicerius’s private room.
Cicerius is startled to see us arriving looking like we’ve been in a battle.
“Princess Direeva needs a doctor, and quick. We found the answer. Lisutaris will win the final test.”
“Excellent,” says Cicerius, meanwhile sending Hansius off for medical aid.
“Ramius is dead. His throat was cut.”
“That is not good.”
No one else was meant to be in the magic space, which leaves Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, as the only suspect.
“Tell me the details,” says Tilupasis, who’s already thinking of the best way to deal with the situation.
[Contents]
Chapter Nineteen
My second meeting with Turai’s leading officials is even more uncomfortable than the first.
“In brief, the situation is as follows,” says Consul Kalius. “Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, has won the final test and is now due to be confirmed as head of the Sorcerers Guild. Unfortunately she remains the main suspect for the murder of Darius Cloud Walker. Additionally, Sunstorm Ramius, one of the best-known Sorcerers in the west, was killed during the test. Although you report that various other people had infiltrated the magic space, as far as the Sorcerers Guild is concerned there were only two people there—Ramius and Lisutaris. Naturally Lisutaris is now suspected of this murder.”
Kalius is worried. As Consul, he has a gold rim running round his toga. It’s the only gold-rimmed toga in the whole city state and he doesn’t want to lose it.
“So what are we going to do about this?”
“Deflect criticism from Lisutaris,” replies Tilupasis promptly. “There is no certainty that Ramius was murdered. People can die of natural causes in the magic space.”
“His throat was slit,” points out Kalius. “It doesn’t look natural. No one is going to believe he was attacked by a rogue unicorn. Who did kill him?”
“We believe that the Simnian Assassin Covinius may be involved,” answers Tilupasis. “I’ve already put this out as a rumour.”
“Why would a Simnian Assassin kill the Simnian Sorcerer?”
“Internal politics?” suggests Cicerius, hopefully. “Whatever the reason, we must certainly spread the story that Covinius killed Ramius.”
Everyone agrees it’s very unfortunate that Covinius chose this moment to attack Sunstorm Ramius. Had he but killed him earlier in the week at the Assemblage, it would not have looked so bad for Turai. With plenty of foreign Sorcerers around we could have blamed anyone. Personally, I don’t know what to think. Since learning that Simnia had hired an Assassin I’ve been working on the assumption that he was here to kill Lisutaris. Which doesn’t seem to fit the facts, with Ramius being the victim. Unless Lisutaris really did kill Ramius, and the Assassin felt unable to attack her in the magic space because of the presence of Direeva and Makri. Is Copro Covinius? I’m no longer sure, though he can’t have been up to any good wandering around in the magic space with a crossbow. It has to have been him who shot Direeva.
I’d like to ask Hanama what she got up to after we parted, but Hanama has disappeared. Disappearing is a speciality of hers.
“How long do we have to sort this out?” asks Praetor Samilius.
“Six hours,” replies Tilupasis. “Lisutaris is due to be confirmed as Chief Sorcerer this evening, but before that happens, Charius the Wise will denounce her as the killer. I have bought us a little time but nothing I can do will prevent him from speaking out at the confirmation.”
“Could we . . . er . . . get to Charius?” suggests Samilius.
“No. He has resisted all our efforts and is now safely in the company of Lasat, Axe of Gold, and all the most powerful Sorcerers in the Guild.”
Kalius asks Samilius if the Civil Guard have come up with anything useful. They haven’t. All eyes turn to me.
“I have some leads. I’ll get on to it.”
Not wishing to expose myself to further ridicule, I’m not planning on denouncing Copro till I have some proof against him.
“You have six hours.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Though Turai’s leading politicians aren’t about to include me in their discussions of state policy, I’m well aware that there is more riding on this now than Lisutaris’s welfare. The city state of Turai is small. We have a lot of gold which other nations crave. If Simnia is looking for an excuse to make war on us, the murder of their Chief Sorcerer isn’t a bad one. If the Abelasians decide to join them because of Darius, you don’t have to be sharp as an Elf’s ear to realise that Turai isn’t going to be the safest place for a man to live.
So far all my efforts have come to nothing. Maybe I should have been more determined in questioning the Sorcerers. I might have been if I hadn’t been forced to spend time pumping the Juvalians for dirt about Lasat, Axe of Gold. Old Hasius the Brilliant again scans the city, but with so little to go on, even the efforts of such a formidable Sorcerer are futile. I ask him once more if he’s had any further thoughts on the matter of a spell for remaking reality.
“There is no such spell,” he repeats.
I’m really sick of hearing that.
Lisutaris is resting at her villa, waiting either to be confirmed as head of the Sorcerers Guild or arraigned as a murderer. Also there is Princess Direeva, recovering from her wound. Makri is with them, or so I thought. I’m surprised when she arrives at the Assemblage just as I’m leaving. I stare at her suspiciously. Last time I called her a pointy-eared Orc freak she attacked me with her axe.
“I’ve come to help,” she says. “Providing you give me a fulsome apology.”
“You think I need your help?”
“You always need my help.”
I apologise. It’ll only make life hell at the Avenging Axe if I don’t.
“Any insult was purely accidental. Your pointed ears are just one of your numerous excellent features. Many people speak highly of them. Now why are you really here?”
“Lisutaris wanted me to make sure you didn’t kill Copro. She thinks my duties as bodyguard should extend to protecting her favourite hairdresser.”
Cicerius provides us with an official carriage and we set off to visit Copro at his home in Thamlin. I tell Makri that no matter what Lisutaris thinks, Copro is up to something.
“I saw him in the magic space.”
Makri nods. She knows me well enough to realise I don’t suffer from hallucinations.
“It wouldn’t really surprise me if there was more to him than he’s saying. He was amazingly skilful with his scissors. And for a beautician, he did have a surprising grasp of world politics.”
Makri wonders why Covinius, whoever he actually is, suddenly ended up killing Sunstorm Ramius instead of Lisutaris.
“I’m wondering that myself. Damned unreasonable, seeing as we’ve spent the week protecting Lisutaris. If he’d just got in touch beforehand and said he was here to assassinate Ramius it would have been simpler all round.”
“Is it a crime you have to solve?”
“Definitely not. The Simnians can look after their own Sorcerers. All I have to do is show that Lisutaris didn’t do it.”
Copro lives in an impressive villa. Not quite as large as those belonging to our wealthy Senators, but big enough. Few tradespeople of any sort live in Thamlin. The average working Turanian dwells in far more humble surroundings, and even those whose skill or good fortune have made them rich—some of our goldsmiths, for instance—wouldn’t really be welcome here. But Copro seems to have attracted a higher status to himself. The grounds at the front of his house, now covered in snow, are in summer a marvel of exuberant good taste, with plants, trees and bushes arranged in glorious harmony according to his own design. As with hair, make-up and dress, Copro’s gardens have had a profound effect on the fashions of the city.