Thraxas at War [calibre 1.47.0]

'What's going on?'

'Nothing,' says Makri.

'She has drunken mercenaries in her room,' says Hanama, quite sharply.

'Is this true?' demands Gurd.

'Only partially,' replies Makri.

Gurd looks down at the unconscious figure of Toraggax.

'Did you punch him?'

'What is this with me punching people?' demands Makri. 'You all seem to think I spend my whole time punching everyone.'

'Well you do,' says Gurd.

'She didn't have to punch him,' says Hanama. 'She just invited him right into her room.'

'What for?'

'We're not exactly clear about that,' I say.

There are some softer footsteps on the stairs. Tanrose has arrived. She's clad in a very fancy robe, embroidered with yellow roses.

'What's happening?'

'Makri punched a mercenary,' says Gurd, who hasn't quite got the picture yet.

'I didn't punch him,' protests Makri. 'I invited him in.'

'So you just come right out and admit it?' says Hanama.

Gurd suddenly becomes suspicious, and looks at Makri and Hanama.

Are you having a meeting? You know I told you you couldn't have meetings of the Association of Gentlewomen in my tavern.'

It's not a meeting,' says Makri.

'Because I absolutely forbid it.'

'Yes, I heard you the first time,' says Makri, testily.

'Why can't they have meetings?' says Tanrose.

'Why? You expect my tavern to become a meeting place for these appalling women with their constant complaints? I will not put up with women who hate men.'

'How can you say that Makri hates men?' objects Tanrose. 'She's just told us that she's been inviting mercenaries to spend the night with her.'

'Has Makri been inviting mercenaries to spend the night with her?' says Dandelion, appearing in a nightrobe so bright it would serve as a beacon. She looks at Makri.

'Is that wise? Did you really think about the consequences?'

'That's exactly what I said,' cries Hanama.

'Hello, Hanama,' says Dandelion. 'Those are nice flowers. Did you bring them for Makri?'

'No,' says Hanama, sharply. 'I just found them outside.'

Dandelion looks down at the prone figure of Toraggax.

'If you invited him to spend the night with you, why did you knock him unconscious?'

'I didn't knock him unconscious,' says Makri.

Dandelion looks troubled.

'Did you stab him? Is he dead?'

'Could everybody just leave me alone?' demands Makri.

'Well of course,' says Hanama, icily. 'I wouldn't have visited if I'd known you were engaged in a secret rendezvous with the virile young Toraggax.'

'I was not engaged in anything!' roars Makri.

'Is this a meeting?' asks Dandelion, eagerly. 'Will you let me join the Association of Gentlewomen now?'

It isn't the most helpful thing Dandelion could have said. The corridor seems to erupt in a very loud series of accusations, counteraccusations and general bad temper. Gurd, Tanrose, Makri and Hanama yell at each other while Dandelion stands there grinning like an idiot. Realising that pre-war dementia has now set in and there's nothing to be done about it, I retreat back to my rooms. At least no one seems to be yelling at me. Which should make me feel good, I suppose, though I don't seem to be in the best of moods as I climb back into my bed.

Chapter Nineteen

The landus making its way slowly along Moon and Stars Boulevard contains three rather moody passengers. Gurd, Makri and I sit in silence as the driver negotiates his way through the icy streets. Our phalanxes are scheduled for practice. The weather is far too severe but the Consul has decreed that it must go ahead anyway. As for Makri, she's on her way to Lisutaris's villa. The Sorcerers Guild are due to appear on the field later today and Makri is required to take up her duties as bodyguard. She's carrying her armour in a bag on her lap. Also in the bag is the paper I took from Bevarius. Makri has been unable to translate some of the Orcish sorcerous terminology but it seems to concern the magical transporting of dragons, so Lisutaris should examine it.

Gurd has hardly spoken a word since we climbed into the landus. I presume this is due to last night's disagreement with Makri, though it's unlike Gurd to bear a grudge. Our landus is halted by a road block. The Civil Guards are checking every carriage, looking for Herminis. A guard pokes his head inside, then waves us through. Though the city is already in crisis, the sensational prison breakout of the Senator's wife has not failed to grip the public's imagination. The Chronicle is reporting that an armed gang, aided by Sorcerers, freed the woman from her place of captivity and are currently being hunted by every Civil Guard in town.

'You've really landed me in it this time,' I mutter to Makri, softly, so that Gurd won't hear.

'There's nothing to worry about,' whispers Makri. 'Lisutaris and Tirini have got everything hidden.'

'I'm not ready,' blurts out Gurd, unexpectedly.

'What?'

'I'm not ready to get married,'

Not feeling that it is quite the time to discuss this, I make no reply, but Gurd seems insistent. He grabs my arm.

'You saw how Tanrose took Makri's side against me last night. How can we get married? Why did you talk me into it?'

'What?'

Gurd looks pained.

'Why did you insist that I married Tanrose? I'm not ready.'

'I didn't—'

'I saved your life at the Battle of Ekinsbrog!' says Gurd. And this is how you repay me!'

I shake my head. He's a sorry sight.

'Don't worry. We'll all be dead before the ceremony.'

'What if we're not?' says Gurd. 'If I survive the war I'll still have to get married.'

'Yes, no happy solution there,' says Makri, icily. 'Maybe you should just ask Tanrose if she wouldn't mind cooking and cleaning for you for the rest of your life and just forgetting the marriage bit.'

'Don't you take that tone with me!' says Gurd, angrily.

And how dare you have these meetings in my tavern. And steal beer from the cellars!'

Makri looks accusingly at me.

'You told him about that?'

'He didn't need to!' yells Gurd. 'You think I didn't notice?'

'If you'd pay me better I'd be able to buy my own beer,' says Makri.

'You're fired!'

'Fine. I quit anyway. Remind me never to enter your disgusting tavern again.'

'You will never be allowed in my disgusting tavern again.'

Makri looks balefully at me.

'You just had to run and tell tales, didn't you?'

'Tell tales? You think that's bad?' I retort, with some justified outrage. After the catalogue of appalling behaviour you've involved yourself in recently? What a curse it was the day you walked into the Avenging Axe.'

We lapse into a brooding silence. As the landus passes through Thamlin, Makri departs towards Truth is Beauty Lane, home of the Sorcerers. She doesn't say goodbye. We turn east towards the Superbius Gate. Progress soon becomes impossible as we find ourselves mingling with a horde of part-time soldiers on their way to the practice fields. We leave the landus and join the throng. The snow is falling heavily. Visibility is poor. A few boisterous souls among the crowd attempt to cheer their friends by shouting encouragement, but mostly the citizens trudge along quietly. No matter what happens in the war, a lot of these men won't be around next summer.

Rumours in the city are rife. The Elves won't be able to sail because all the young Elves have become addicted to dwa. The Simnians won't come because they've decided to defend their own borders instead. The Niojans are doing a deal with the Ores to sack Turai and split the booty. Queen Direeva has done a deal with the Ores to provide them with a squadron of fresh dragons in return for leaving her kingdom alone.

The rumours are not all negative. Last week we heard a report that Prince Amrag had been killed in a feud arising from bad feelings among the Orcish nations over the rumour that the Prince's blood is tainted by a Human ancestor. There's little likelihood of this being true. The Prince has already shown himself capable of 'subjugating all opposition.