Thraxas at War [calibre 1.47.0]

'You were right about being in battle,' said Makri. 'From the moment it started I had no idea what was going on.'

'Me neither. Except we were taking a beating.'

'Is Gurd still alive?'

I shake my head. I don't know.

We come across a familiar figure, kneeling on the ground. It's Erisox, the Consul's cook. The poor guy was caught outside the city walls. He must have scuttled back inside quickly enough, because he's still got his little cart with him, and the portable oven. He's got an arrow in his calf and is trying to draw it out. I bend down to help. The arrow isn't embedded very deeply and won't cause too much damage when it comes out. I yank it free. Erisox screams and faints.

'Didn't do too much damage,' I say.

I look at the little oven. I haven't eaten for a while. I prise open the door, just in case there's anything left. There's a pastry inside. I take it out and offer half of it to Makri. She refuses and I swallow the pastry in a single bite.

'Erisox. He's a master of the art. I doubt there's a finer cook in the whole city. That pastry was superb.'

'Really,' says Makri.

'Yes. Perfect. And think of the difficult circumstances it was made in. Portable oven, snow falling, Orcs attacking, dragons flying overhead. Still the man makes a perfect pastry. Nothing seems to put him off.'

I halt. It's just dawned on me that Erisox has been lying to me. He moans. I help him sit upright. The wound in his calf isn't so bad.

'Erisox. The whole time I was investigating Galwinius's murder the one person I trusted was you. Because you're such a great cook. But you were lying, weren't you? You told me no one entered your kitchen, and you were there all the time. That wasn't true, was it?'

Erisox immediately looks forlorn. Having just come off a battlefield with an arrow in his leg, he's not in the mood to put up too much resistance.

'No. Bevarius came in with Rittius. Then I went to the storeroom with my assistant and Bevarius.'

'What for?'

'To make bets on the races. The whole kitchen staff at the Consul's offices usually give their money to Bevarius's cook and he places our bets.'

'So why did Bevarius take the money instead?'

'He said his cook was sick. We thought it was strange, a Senator taking bets instead of his cook, but who knows, these Senators all like to bet anyway.'

I nod. Bevarius just found a convenient excuse to get the chef and his assistant out of the way for a few moments.

'Why did you need to go into the storeroom?' I ask.

'Just being discreet. The Consul doesn't like it if his staff are placing bets during work time.'

'So where was Rittius all this time?'

'He was on his own in the kitchen.'

Rittius was alone in the kitchen. Using a little poison, no doubt. I was so busy thinking about why the Consul came back along the corridor on his own, I never checked where Rittius and Bevarius went. They went into the kitchen. Erisox lied to me. I help him bandage his calf. His lies made my investigation difficult but I can't really hate a man who has such a command of the pastry oven.

The Ores are at the gate. I should be doing something warlike.

'How did you know I was lying?' asks Erisox.

'From the excellence of your cooking. I've eaten pastries made by you in the Consul's office, on the military training grounds, and I just ate one you made while the Ores were attacking. Each one perfect. You can cook a perfect pastry no matter how difficult the circumstances. But I just remembered that on the day Galwinius was murdered, I bit into one which was slightly undercooked. The only explanation for that is that you'd left the oven unattended.'

Erisox casts his eyes down.

A whole batch, too soft in the middle. I should never have left the kitchen.'

'Don't feel too bad. A man needs to get his bets down while he can.'

'Thraxas!' bellows the loudest voice in the west. It's Viriggax, not looking in such bad shape.

'Hell of an affair, that! Since when could dragons fly here in winter? Half my troop were killed before we got near the Ores.'

Viriggax and his remaining mercenaries have carried their wounded companions inside and are now searching for some medical help before heading back to the walls. Some of the men they've carried in are badly wounded and a few have died.

'Is that Toraggax?'

Viriggax nods.

'Poor boy. First battle and he gets killed.'

Makri steps over to the body. It's quite badly mutilated. She looks at it expressionlessly. Not even a frown.

'You know your Prince is dead?' says Viriggax.

'I didn't.'

'He was a bad leader.'

He was. It wasn't entirely his fault that the Ores took us by surprise but he should have trusted in Lisutaris's warnings.

Makri moves away from Toraggax's body.

'Was someone responsible for this? I mean, the Ore Sorcerer in Turai, the surprise attack? Did someone betray the city?'

'Rittius, I think,' I mutter, softly, so no one else can hear. Makri nods.

Horses sweep into the pleasure gardens. It's General Pomius, Lisutaris and various other officials. There's no sign of the Consul. I wonder if he's dead. Officers, taking orders from the General, hurry this way and that around the gardens, issuing commands, organising the scattered troops.

'Is that Rittius's carriage?' Makri asks, indicating a vehicle to the rear of the General's.

'Looks like it.'

Makri sets off. I follow on after her. In the aftermath of the catastrophic battle, it's not a time to be investigating a murder, but I'd like words with Rittius anyway.

I force my way through the crowds of soldiers and officials that surround the General's carriage. No one pays me much notice. There are a lot of soldiers wandering aimlessly around the field, shocked by their experiences. Makri pulls open the door of Rittius's carriage and leaps inside. I hurry after her, closing the door behind me. Rittius is sitting on his upholstered seat, looking at Makri in surprise.

'Rittius, you dog,' I begin. 'I know you're a traitor—'

I stop. There's more I want to say but Makri chooses this moment to stick a dagger in Rittius's heart. I stare at Makri, then back to Rittius.

'. . . and after due process of law you'll answer for your crimes in court.'

Rittius slumps forward, dead from his wound. I turn to Makri.

'You couldn't even wait till I made a speech?'

'What for?'

'I had things to say.'

Makri shrugs.

'Nothing important.'

'You know I only suspected Rittius? I haven't gathered any proof. We generally don't execute people merely on my suspicions. We wait till after the trial'

'There's never going to be another trial in this city,' says Makri.

'You're probably right. We should get out of here.'

We slip out of the door on the far side. In the confusion, no one takes any notice of us. I'm not exactly sorry that Makri killed Rittius. He's been my enemy for a long time and I'm sure enough he betrayed the city, not to mention poisoning Galwinius. And he was probably responsible for the death of Galwinius's informer, and Bevarius too, to cover his tracks. But I do have a feeling of dissatisfaction. There were things I wanted to say. Makri might have waited till I'd got a few sentences out.

We find ourselves only a few feet away from Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky. I whisper to Makri.

'Don't say anything about what just happened.'

'Lisutaris,' says Makri. 'I just killed Rittius because he betrayed the city.'

The Sorcerer looks surprised.

'Pardon?'

'Thraxas can give you more details.'

'The details will have to wait,' says Lisutaris. 'I'm needed at the East Gate.'

She isn't looking in such good shape.

'You don't look fit for more fighting,' I say.

'I'm not,' replies Lisutaris. 'That last spell took it out of me.'

Tirini Snake Smiter, in excellent shape, appears beside her, still glamorous. She holds a scented handkerchief in her hand which she dabs around her nose as if to keep away the stench of death.