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'Thraxas. If you ever try beating down one of my very expensive doors I'll explode your head,' she says. And what brings you here anyway? I have little time to spare these days.'

Having only had a few minutes at her water pipe Lisutaris is not yet too intoxicated, but from the powerful aroma in the room and the lazy expression on her face she's not so far off. Lisutaris packs enough thazis into her water pipe to knock out a dragon. This is the woman who invented a new spell for making thazis plants grow faster.

'What brings me here, Lisutaris, is a desire for knowledge.'

'Ah. Has Makri finally shamed you into bettering yourself?'

'Very amusing. I'm here to learn what's going on and how long I've got before I'm due on the battlefield, and anything else you know about the impending invasion. None of which anyone in government is going to tell me. Could you stop sucking on that thing for a second?'

An observer of this conversation might be surprised at my rather casual attitude towards Lisutaris. She is, after all, the head of the Sorcerers Guild, not to mention an aristocrat of the purest blood. However, in the past year or so I've rendered some sterling service to her. It was me who got her elected as head of the Guild, more or less single-handed, and only this summer I saved her reputation by locating a very important mystical jewel she'd carelessly lost at the race track. Besides, I've seen her keel over in my office from overindulgence in thazis. After that I figure there's no need to be too formal.

'You'd need something to calm you down if you'd had to spend time with these people. Harmon is a dreadful bore and both Lanius Suncatcher and Old Hasius doubt the accuracy of my observations.'

'They do?'

Lanius is Chief Sorcerer at Palace Security. Hasius is Chief Sorcerer at the Abode of Justice. Lisutaris suddenly looks annoyed.

'They do indeed. It's a difficult business looking into the heart of the Orcish Lands, Thraxas. Even with the green jewel at my disposal and all the powers I command, it's almost impossible to get a clear picture. The

Orcish Sorcerers Guild have been working hard at their own protection. I can't make a connection to Prince Amrag himself and I can't eavesdrop on his private meetings. But I can get close enough to learn what he's planning. And it involves a swift invasion, you can be sure of that. I've seen the troops gathering and the dragons massing.'

'So why do they doubt you?'

Lisutaris shrugs, and draws on her pipe.

'Old Hasius the so-called Brilliant has always resented that I was elected head of the Guild. It clouds his judgement. That and his senility. It's high time they pensioned him off. As for Lanius, who knows? Palace Security are always looking out for their own interests. His boss Rittius has never been a friend of mine. Between them all they're proving to be a problem. It's a time for the city to be making preparations and forging alliances, not bickering about the precise meaning of what I've seen in the east. Naturally that oaf Ovinian the True reports their doubts back to the Palace. That man is a fool. How he ever became Chief Sorcerous Adviser to the King is beyond me.'

I sympathise with her annoyance.

'It's often the way in this city. Worthy men are passed over in favour of some dolt who's good at flattery. Look at me. Thrown out of my job at the Palace. I was the only decent Investigator they had.'

'You got drunk at Rittius's wedding and insulted his bride,' says Lisutaris. 'Right after you insulted Rittius. Which, as I remember, was almost immediately after you insulted Praetor Capatius.'

'So what were you doing? Taking notes? These people

deserved to be insulted. It's no wonder I was driven to drink. Is there any chance of a glass of wine?'

Lisutaris ignores my request, being too busy muttering about Ovinian.

'He had the nerve to suggest that my judgement may be clouded due to my annoyance over Herminis. As if I would let a domestic matter interfere with my war duties!'

I wonder if Lisutaris is going to lecture me about Herminis. I've already listened to several long diatribes from Makri on the subject. Herminis is the wife of a Senator, or was until a few months ago, when she stabbed him in the back with his own dagger. In court she claimed that her husband had violently abused her for all the ten years they were married. The court, feeling that this was not an adequate defence for a charge of murder - which legally it wasn't - sentenced her to death. She's currently languishing in prison awaiting execution. What's particularly annoying Makri, and probably Lisutaris, is that if the situation had been reversed and the Senator had killed his wife, he would have been given the option of exile from Turai. In all but the most exceptional of cases, members of the Turanian ruling classes are allowed to leave the city before execution. This option has not been extended to Herminis. Tough on the lady, but that's the way things work in Turai. Why Makri feels the need to berate me about it I've no idea. Fearing that Lisutaris may be working up to some berating of her own, I ask her how things stand in the matter of forging alliances.

'Quite well, fortunately. We've sent messengers all over the west and contacted the Elvish nations.'

It's a strange thought that as we sit here, smoking thazis in this peaceful room, all over the west the first preparations are being made for the raising of a gigantic army.

'What sort of force can Prince Amrag muster?'

'Hard to say. He's been in a position of dominance for a relatively short time. Yet from my observations it seems as if the other Ore nations are answering his call. We're guessing that their army will be roughly the same size as last time.'

'Who exactly is we?'

'The War Council. As organised by the Consul. I never had that much regard for Kalius, but at least he's got things moving quickly'

We sit in silence for a moment, both reflecting on the last war. After a lot of desperate fighting there came a point where we threw them back from the city walls, and at that moment I was, at it happened, standing next to Lisutaris. I saw her bring dragons down from the sky, and when her sorcerous power ran out I saw her pick up a sword and behead an Ore who made it to the top of the walls. Immediately after this the wall collapsed. I've no idea how any of us survived. We wouldn't have if the Elvish army hadn't arrived at that moment and taken the Orcish forces in the flank.

'Still, we beat them last time. We can beat them again.'

'Perhaps,' muses Lisutaris. 'Though the armies of the Humans and the Elves are probably weaker these days. Not too much weaker, I hope. If they are, we're going to have to flee a long way west before we find a place to hide.'

Lisutaris doesn't show any sign of summoning refreshments.

Any chance of some refreshments?'

'I have no beer.'

'But you do have a notably fine wine cellar. Nothing too fancy, a nice Elvish table wine will hit the spot.'

Lisutaris pulls the bell rope, summoning a servant. She's not such a bad woman, really. Smokes far too much thazis and spends a lot of money on clothes, hair styling and the like, but she's served the city well. We're about the same age, though you'd hardly know it. She's preserved her looks a lot better than me. Of course, she had more looks to preserve. And my life has been a good deal harder.

I take a glass of wine.

'Good wine. Maybe you ought to spend the next four months enjoying the contents of your wine cellar.'

'If we have four months,' says Lisutaris.

'What do you mean?'

'I suspect the Ores may march earlier.'

I'm puzzled.

'Earlier? Winter is only a week or two away. They can't cross the wastelands in winter.'

Lisutaris looks thoughtful.

'So everyone says. And they never have before. But I picked up a message from Amrag to another Ore lord that seemed to imply they might be planning it this time.'

I'm sceptical about this. Campaigns are rarely launched in winter; the weather is far too fierce for marching.