“I need your help,” he says. “Though, as always when we meet, I wonder why.”
“Presumably you’ve got a job which is unsuitable for the better class of Investigator.”
“Not exactly. I hired the better class of Investigator but he fell sick. As did the second.”
“Okay, so I’m third choice.”
“Fourth.”
“You’re really selling me the job, Cicerius. Maybe you’d better just describe it.”
“I want you to act as an observer at the Sorcerers Assemblage.”
“Sorry,” I say. “Can’t do it. Thanks for the offer, I’ll see myself out.”
“What?” Cicerius is startled by my abrupt refusal. “Why can’t you do it?”
“Personal reasons,” I reply, and head for the door. I’m not about to tell the Deputy Consul that attending the Sorcerers Assemblage would make me feel small, powerless, insignificant and a general failure in life.
Cicerius plants himself in front of me.
“Personal reasons? That is not an acceptable reason for refusing the commission. I am not offering you this job for fun. I’m offering you it because it is a service that Turai needs from you. When the city needs you, personal reasons have no significance. Now kindly sit down and listen.”
The Deputy Consul could easily make my life in Turai very awkward. He wouldn’t have to pull too many strings to have my licence revoked. So I sit down and listen, and drink his wine, but I don’t make any pretence I’m enjoying it.
“You are aware that the Sorcerers are to elect a new head of their Guild?”
I am. The Deputy Consul doesn’t have to tell me that this is an important matter for Turai, as well as every other Human nation. The Sorcerers Guild in each land has its own organisation and its own officials, but unlike many of the other Guilds, the Sorcerers have an international dimension. While a member of the Turanian Bakers Guild would probably not be too interested in the Simnian Bakers Guild, every magic user in the west looks up to the leader of the Sorcerers Guild. The post carries a lot of weight and brings a great deal of prestige to the home city and state.
“Our King and our Consul are most keen that a Turanian is elected new head of the Guild.”
I’m not surprised. Turai has been slipping in political importance for a long time now. We used to be a big voice in the League of Independent City States, but that organisation has now almost fallen apart, riven by internal rivalries, leaving the small state of Turai dangerously exposed. We’re in the front line against the Orcs to the east. To make things worse, Nioj, our northern neighbour and historical enemy, has spent the last decade making threatening noises. King Lamachus would like nothing better than to swallow us up, and if he decides to do it there doesn’t seem much prospect of anyone else coming to our aid. Turai is still a great friend of the Elves, but the Elves are a long way away. It would make a lot of sense to cement the Sorcerers Guild to our city state.
I can see problems ahead.
“Are we seriously going to try for this? Who have we got for the post? There are a lot of powerful Sorcerers in the world, and the way Turanian Sorcerers have been dying in the past few years, I don’t see who we could nominate.”
Cicerius nods, and sips some wine from a silver goblet.
“We had hopes for Tas of the Eastern Lightning. Very powerful.”
“But not very loyal. It’s probably just as well he got killed, he’d have sold us out in the end. I guess Mirius Eagle Rider would have been the next best choice till he handed in his toga. But who else is there? Old Hasius the Brilliant is too old, and Harmon Half Elf doesn’t qualify for head of the Human Sorcerers Guild.”
“We considered Melus the Fair,” says Cicerius. “She is strong. But she’s already employed as Stadium Sorcerer and the people like her. Removing her from that post would be very unpopular. However, we do have another very excellent Sorcerer. Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“You’re not serious.”
“And why not? Lisutaris is very, very powerful. It was she who overcame the Eight-Mile Terror which almost destroyed the city last year. She has a good reputation at home and abroad because she fought valiantly in the last Orc War. Even now people still talk about the way she brought a flight of war dragons crashing from the sky.”
“I was there. I remember the incident. And very impressive it was. But that was more than fifteen years ago. Before Lisutaris developed into the city’s most enthusiastic thazis user.”
Cicerius pretends not to understand me.
“Does she use thazis?”
“Does she? Come on, Cicerius, Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky, might be a heavy-duty Sorcerer, but she lives for the weed.”
Cicerius is untroubled.
“In these decadent times, Thraxas, we cannot set our standards as high as we once might have. You know as well as I do that a great deal of degeneracy has taken root in the Sorcerers Guild as well as elsewhere. Dwa abuse is common, and the drinking habits of many of our Sorcerers leave a great deal to be desired. For some reason Sorcerers seem very prone to this. Compared to dwa and alcohol, thazis is a very mild substance. I do not approve of it but I do not see it as a serious impediment. You, for instance, use thazis quite openly, despite it still being illegal.”
I doubt that Cicerius fully appreciates the nature of Lisutaris’s habit. Many people use the occasional stick to calm them down. On a busy night, the Avenging Axe is thick with thazis smoke. But Lisutaris’s liking for thazis is on a different level. She actually invented a complicated new kind of water pipe to enable her to ingest more. She spends half her life in a world of dreams. Last time I was at her villa I found her comatose on the floor after successfully developing a spell for making the plants grow faster. Still, none of this is really my concern. Lisutaris is not a bad sort as Sorcerers go, and I’d be happy enough to see her as head of the Guild.
“So why do you need me?”
“Because we have good reason to fear that the election will not be as fair as we would wish,” replies Cicerius. “Your job would be to ensure that it is.”
Cicerius’s daughter appears behind him. She makes a face at me. I let it pass. Cicerius carries on.
“There are other candidates for the job and their nations are equally keen to succeed. We fear that some of these lands may not be averse to using underhand tactics.”
“Unlike Turai?”
“Unlike Turai.”
“So you’re not wanting me to do anything illegal?”
“If you are caught doing anything illegal, the government will disown you.”
“That’s not quite the same thing.”
Cicerius shrugs.
“Am I being hired to make sure the election is fair or to make sure Lisutaris is elected?”
“We are confident that if the election is fair, then Lisutaris will be elected,” replies the Deputy Consul.
“In other words, I’m to stop at nothing to get her the post?”
Cicerius’s lips twitch, which is as close as he ever comes to smiling.
“It is very important to Turai that Lisutaris secures the position. However, I repeat, if you are implicated in anything illegal, the government will disown you.”
“I don’t really understand why I’m the man for the job, Cicerius. Wouldn’t it be better to send someone from Palace Security?”
“I have selected you.”
It’s possible that the Deputy Consul is having problems with Palace Security. It’s headed by Rittius, a bitter rival of his. Cicerius doesn’t elaborate, but he points out that I am fairly well qualified for the mission.
“You have good investigating skills. You have some knowledge of sorcery, albeit slight. And your uncouth manners will not offend the Sorcerers as much as they might offend others.”