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Karlox has a nasty cut on his face where I kicked him. I know, because he's standing over me with a sword in his hand. #2 | | |
"You ever consider knocking?" I growl. #3 | | |
"Door wasn't locked," says Karlox. #4 | | |
I'm still lying on the couch. The point of Karlox's sword is making it awkward for me to rise. He's got five men with him. They're looking for the money I owe. I don't have it. #5 | | |
"The Orc bitch went out," grunts Karlox, reading my mind. I was hoping she'd burst in and rescue me. "Got the money?" #6 | | |
"On its way. I'm just waiting for payment to arrive." #7 | | |
Which is true. Cicerius owes me plenty for clearing his son, and clearing the Princess. I can't really #8 | | |
explain this to Karlox however, and I doubt it would make any difference if I could. For Karlox it's more fun if I don't have the money. #9 | | |
"Got a spell ready?" he asks, knowing full well that I haven't. #10 | | |
"No? Not much of a Sorcerer, are you? Not much of anything really. Apart from a gambler. A bad gambler. Very unlucky. And this is the most unlucky day you're ever going to have, fat man." #11 | | |
One of his thugs laughs. They advance and stand round me, swords drawn. #12 | | |
"What is going on here?" demands a now familiar voice. It's Cicerius. I never thought I'd be so pleased to see him. He strides into my shattered room, a grim frown on his narrow face. #13 | | |
"Well?" he says, going right up to Karlox and looking him squarely in the face. This is a little awkward for Karlox. Not only is Cicerius much too important for him to push around, but the Traditionals use the Brotherhood as muscle during the elections. #14 | | |
"Some private business, Praetor," says Karlox, uncomfortably. #15 | | |
"The gambling debt, no doubt," says Cicerius. #16 | | |
Of course. I forgot everyone in the city knew about it. #17 | | |
Cicerius motions to his attendant. The attendant draws out a purse, counts out some coins, and hands them over to the Brotherhood enforcer. #18 | | |
"Depart," orders the Praetor. #19 | | |
Poor Karlox. He's sadder than a Niojan whore at this turn of events. He was looking forward to doing a little enforcing on me. He departs, followed by his men. #20 | | |
I rise, grateful at this turn of events, and thank Cicerius. He looks at me with disapproval and gives me a brief lecture on the stupidity of gambling, particularly if I'm not good enough to win. #21 | | |
"The money will be deducted from your fee." #22 | | |
Praetor Cicerius, looking more incongruous than ever in his crisp white toga in my shattered room, informs me that the Princess has been cleared. #23 | | |
"The Consul has been reliably informed that the dragon was in fact killed by Orcs from their Embassy. An internal Orcish power struggle, apparently. The Civil Guardsmen picked up their bodies here in Twelve Seas." None of this is true, of course. It's just the story circulated by Bishop Gzekius to clear the Princess's name, as promised. "The Orcish Ambassadors are not happy, but as several of their Orcs were found in a place they were forbidden to enter, a church, they cannot protest too much. The King is relieved to learn that his daughter has not been indulging in illegal activities. It's a satisfactory outcome. I don't suppose it's true?" #24 | | |
I tell him no, it isn't and fill him in on most of the details, including everything I know about the Bishop's misdemeanours. The Praetor is shocked to learn the extent of the Bishop's machinations. I imagine Gzekius will find his influence at court waning from now on. Of course Bishop Gzekius will now have it in for me in no uncertain fashion so it won't hurt to have Cicerius ranged against him. Despite being troubled by what I tell him the Praetor has to admit that I've done what I was hired to do. The Princess is in the clear. Soon everyone in Turai will hear rumours that the whole trouble was the fault of he Orcs trying to steal the Cloth. There's some truth in that, I suppose. They did start it when they hired Glixius to get it for them, although events quickly spiralled out of his control. #25 | | |
The Praetor informs me that he has already let it be known to the Niojan Ambassador that his attaché Attilan was killed by the rogue Orcs after he stumbled on their criminal activities. Clever of the Praetor. Gets Turai a bit of breathing space. Nioj will still destroy us one day. #26 | | |
Whether it was the Pontifex I saw at Attilan's house or the Elves that killed the attaché, I don't know. The Elves, I think. Now that the Orcs have been blamed, it doesn't seem to matter much. #27 | | |
"Of course our Elvish allies who sent us the Cloth are not fully satisfied. We may have shifted the blame for the theft on to the Orcs but there is still no sign of the Cloth. Do you know where it is?" #28 | | |
I shake my head. I've been expecting Cicerius to give me a hard time about this—I haven't forgotten Consul Kalius accusing me of lying—but he seems quite prepared to believe me. #29 | | |
"Well, I cannot expect you to do everything. I am already grateful to you for keeping my son out of court and preserving his reputation. And that of the Prince. However undeserved that may be." #30 | | |
He makes to leave, but halts at the door. "Princess Du-Akai wishes me to pass on her sincere gratitude," he says, and departs abruptly. As he opens the door the smell of smoke drifts in from the smouldering buildings in the street outside. #31 | | |
I muse on the Praetor's words. Not bad. The Princess likes me. Maybe I can do a little social climbing on the back of that. Anything to get out of Twelve Seas. Makri appears the moment he departs. #32 | | |
Having returned half-way through his visit she has, of course, been listening at the door. #33 | | |
"Looks like your luck's changing, Thraxas. Everyone's pleased with you. The city officials, the Royal Family—even the Brotherhood is off your back." #34 | | |
I nod. It's true. Things do look better than a few days ago. My enemies are either pacified or departed. Apart from Glixius Dragon Killer—with my luck he will have survived the riot—and the Society of Friends, who will no doubt be mad as hell at me for messing things up for them. I can live with that. #35 | | |
I stub my toe on something on the floor. It's a bottle of beer. Must've been hidden under the sofa. I open it and take a long swig, then stare out the window at the wreckage outside. #36 | | |
"Somehow you don't seem too pleased," says Makri. #37 | | |
I turn to face her. "I'm pleased enough, I guess." #38 | | |
"Well you're looking as miserable as a Niojan whore." #39 | | |
I take another drink. "I don't like being given the run-around, Makri. Not by anyone, but particularly not by you." #40 | | |
Makri raises her eyebrows. I tell her to stop acting innocent. #41 | | |
"The Association of Gentlewomen stole that Cloth, didn't they? Don't bother looking shocked and per-plexed, you haven't been in civilisation long enough to fool an experienced liar like me." #42 | | |
Makri continues to look shocked and perplexed. She denies any knowledge of what I'm on about. #43 | | |
"Oh yes? I've wondered all along what Hanama's involvement in all this was. The Assassins don't hunt for stolen goods, they assassinate people. It seemed just possible that they would've wanted the Elvish Cloth for their guild, to make their own magic-proof room perhaps, but in that case why was it always Hanama who kept appearing everywhere? Why not some other Assassin? There are plenty of them. Way too many in fact. But it was always her. And she's a difficult woman to shake off, as the Elves found out last night." #44 | | |
Makri continues to be silent. I continue to talk. #45 | | |
"I knew immediately when I saw the Elves that Hanama had killed them. A knife throw to their hearts before they could even move. Very efficient. Difficult to carry out, of course, given that Elves are practically impossible to take by surprise, and they move pretty damned quick when they're in danger. #46 | | |
But not beyond the powers of Hanama. They only outsmarted her before because she was half drowned in the flood. I wondered at first how she could possibly have known it was the Elves—after all, I'd only just worked it out and I swear no one did before me—then I realised. I mentioned it to the Princess just before I went after them myself. And to Lisutaris. One of them got a message to Hanama, and fast. Quite a group, this Association of Gentlewomen, Makri. Princesses, Assassins, Sorcerers. And barmaids." #47 | | |
I fix her with a stare. #48 | | |
"Are you suggesting I've been passing on infor-mation?" says Makri, not sounding too pleased about it. #49 | | |
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