Are you sure you looked properly?'
'Is that as much of an insult as I take it to be?'
'No insult intended. You've been busy with the war preparations. And you weren't that fond of Galwinius.'
'I'd say that was an insult.'
'Merely a statement of fact,' I say. After all, he refused to allow Herminis to go into exile. One of the main complaints of the Association of Gentlewomen, I understand.'
'Why don't you just ask if we killed him?'
'Did you?'
'No. Though we're not shedding many tears about it.'
'His family is. Strange thing about this city, Lisutaris. No one seems to mind when a man is murdered if the man was an opponent. Myself, I never see things that way'
'Spare me the lecture,' says Lisutaris, and draws on her thazis pipe.
'Galwinius was carrying a scroll before he fell. I want to know what happened to it.'
Lisutaris rises from her chair, takes a gold saucer from a table nearby, and pours a little black liquid into it. It's kuriya, a tool for looking into the past. This is an art over which I have some control, but nothing compared to the power of Lisutaris. She waves her hand. For performing any sort of spell, no matter how difficult, the Mistress of the Sky never seems to need any preparation. All she does is wave her hand and it starts to work. A picture forms in the pool. I watch as Galwinius takes the food from Lodius. He is carrying a scroll. He falls to the ground. Lisutaris twitches her fingers and the picture alters, focusing on the floor where he falls. The scroll is partially obscured by his body. A hand reaches for it, scoops it up and tuck it inside his toga. It's Bevarius, assistant to Consul Kalius.
The picture fades. The pool goes dark.
'Bevarius?'
I'm perturbed. I don't know what to think.
'I wasn't expecting any sort of involvement from the Consul's office. Maybe it doesn't mean anything. I still don't know what was on that scroll.'
I thank Lisutaris for her help. I remember that Makri is going to be part of Lisutaris's bodyguard. She has served as Lisutaris's bodyguard before, though not in such dangerous circumstances. The Sorceress is pleased. 'Casting spells in the middle of a battle, it's hard to keep a lookout for your own safety. I've got a company of good men to protect me and Makri can probably fight better than any of them.
'Probably. Though she's never been on a battlefield.'
'She can look after herself.'
'I know. But she'll probably die anyway.'
'We'll all probably die,' says Lisutaris, and sounds quite serious about it. Obviously my own assessment of our prospects is not unduly pessimistic.
Chapter Sixteen
I send a message to Domasius, asking him to make some enquiries regarding Bevarius, Kalius and Galwinius. The Messengers Guild never stops working, even in the worst of conditions. Their young carriers are dedicated to their work. God knows why.
By now my magic warm cloak is cooling off. On the long walk down Moon and Stars Boulevard I start to feel the cold creeping in. I hurry on, cursing as my heels slip on the ice. There are a lot of people still about on the main thoroughfare and they're the gloomiest collection of faces I've seen for some time. In times of crisis the city naturally looks towards the royal family, but the royal family is not such a shining example these days. The King is still respected, but he's old, and rarely appears in public. He's been ruling through his ministers for a long time now and is no longer quite the figurehead he used to be. His elder son, Prince Frlsen-Akan, is such a degenerate lush that not even the most hardened royalist can pretend he's an inspiration. The younger son, Prince Dees-Akan, head of the War Council, is a much more competent sort of character, but somehow not the sort of prince the public has ever really warmed to. Too abrasive perhaps. Lacking the common touch. Young Princess Du-Akai is very popular and quite glamorous, but at a time like this the population is looking more for a military leader than a beautiful princess.
I wonder about Bevarius. He picked up the scroll. Why? Was he just clearing the way for the doctor? Or was there something written on it he wanted kept private? What happened to the scroll afterwards? I'll have to question the Consul's assistant again. By this time I've reached the entrance to Saint Rominius's Lane, scene of the recent attack on my person. I could take the long way home and avoid the lane. But I'm cold. It's probably safe enough. I head into the narrow passageway. After turning the first corner I find myself confronted by three men with swords.
'Here we go again.'
I intone my sleep spell and they crumple gently into the snow. I take a few steps then halt at the sound of footsteps behind me. When I turn round I find the man with red hair standing there with a mocking smile on his face. Behind him are four armed companions.
'You're pretty dumb for an Investigator, falling for the same trick twice. Now you've gone and used up your magic again.'
He motions his men to advance. I speak another spell and they all fall unconscious to the ground.
'Not that dumb,' I say.
Before leaving Lisutaris's villa I'd asked her if she could give me something to temporarily boost my spell-casting powers, and she duly obliged. I've got enough power to put any number of assailants to sleep, and it'll last for a few hours yet. I hoist the red-haired man over my shoulder and set off for the Avenging Axe. He's no
lightweight and by the time I reach the outside steps I'm panting for breath. I haul my captive up the stairs and into my office. By the time I've dumped him in a chair and thrown a coil of rope around him to hold him there, he's starting to revive. I search his pockets, finding nothing but a drawstring purse with a few half-gurans inside. A name is embroidered on the purse: 'Kerinox'.
He opens his eyes to finds the point of my sword only a few inches from his face.
'Who sent you to kill me, Kerinox?' I demand, hoping to catch him before he has time to focus his thoughts. Unfortunately he's either too smart or too dumb to remain unfocused for long. He shakes his head to clear it, swears loudly at me and then tells me to go to hell. I bat him across the face. He swears at me again.
'Who sent you?'
As soon as I'm out of this chair I'll kill you, fat man.'
I hit him across the face again and he falls silent. Silent, but not cowed.
'You want me to use a truth spell on you?'
My prisoner laughs.
'Everyone knows you don't have that sort of power. All you can do is send a person to sleep, fat man.'
It's getting on my nerves, the way he keeps calling me fat man. I stare at him, unsure of my next move. Being a private Investigator isn't like working for the Civil Guards or Palace Security. You can't just brutalise people, it's against the law. Not that I'm too worried about the law, as this man has twice tried to kill me. But if I hurt him too badly and he goes complaining about it to the authorities, I could find myself in trouble. I press my sword right up against his throat. He looks at me coolly.
'It won't take my friends long to work out where I am. This time we will kill you.'
He's right, at least about the part where his friends find him. When they wake up and get to wondering where their leader is, they might well decide to take a look in the Avenging Axe. Or they might just decide to go home, depending on how well they're being paid. While I'm wondering what to do, I hear a door closing softly further along the corridor. I stick my head out the door. Makri walks past with her nose in the air.
'Makri—'
'Don't talk to me, oaf,' she says.
I get in front of her.
'I need your help.'
'That's unfortunate. I rarely help people who abuse me and throw me out of their office.'
'Did I do that?'
'Yes.'
'I expect I was being drunk and unreasonable. You know how I get. Incidentally, I've just been in Lisutaris's villa, complimenting her on choosing you as a bodyguard.'