Thraxas Under Siege (ARC) Page 20

  Moolifi deals me the fourth and final card. It is a black queen. I have a straight run in the same colour. It will beat anything except four of a kind. Horm studies his money for a while. It's laid out in neat piles in front of him, unlike mine, which is strewn around messily.

  "I have seven thousand gurans," he says. "Around the same as you, I'd judge."

  He pushes it all into the centre of the table, and looks me in the eye.

  "It's your bet," he says.

  I count my money. I have enough to cover the bet, just. If I go along with it one of us will be forced from the table. With this one bet I can save Makri and rescue the Ocean Storm for Turai. Or I could lose everything. My straight run is a good hand. Horm's might be better. I could back out, escape with the loss of just a few hundred gurans. I wonder if Horm is bluffing. I can't tell. I take a sip of my excellent beer and think for a few moments.

  I remember once when I was fighting as a mercenary away in the south, the captain of our company tried to force me out of a game by betting 100 gurans on a pair of 2s. One hundred gurans was all the money I had in the world and I'd had to fight hard and long to earn it. I covered his bet. I lost. I ended up fighting for six months as a mercenary and I was worse off than when I started. Gurd had to buy me food on the way home, and it was lucky he was with me or I'd have starved to death in some far-off land.

  I start sliding my money across, pushing each ragged bundle of coins in one after the other. It takes me a few moments to count out the seven thousand. I stare at Horm.

  "So, what do you have?"

  "The Ocean Storm isn't yours to gamble," comes a voice, familiar but not entirely normal. It's Sarin, looking quite crazy. She's pointing a crossbow, illegal inside the city walls, but still her favourite weapon. From the wild look in her eyes I'd say she was deep in the grip of the fever. As a powerful Sorcerer in an alien land, Horm is undoubtedly protected by some powerful spells. But I don't know how safe he is. A full-size crossbow at such a short distance is a very deadly weapon. At this range the bolt would go right through a normal man and through the man behind him as well. I've seen it happen, and I wouldn't want to be the third man standing behind them either. I wouldn't lay much money on Horm's spells saving him from harm.

  Before anyone can move, Sarin fires the crossbow. As soon as she releases the string, I jerk my head towards Horm, expecting to see him driven back from the table, but instead I find that Moolifi has raised her hand and caught the bolt, which is quite impossible. No one can catch a crossbow bolt in mid-flight; you can't even see it in the air. There are a few gasps from around the room. I turn towards Moolifi.

  "Are you by any chance another Sorcerer in disguise?"

  "I am," says Moolifi.

  "I'm guessing Deeziz the Unseen?"

  "Then you have guessed correctly," says Moolifi.

  "Ridiculous," cries Horm. "Deeziz isn't a woman."

  "I assure you I am. Though it's suited me till now to hide myself with veils and sorcery."

  All around the tavern chairs are tumbling over as Lisutaris and her fellow Sorcerers leap to their feet. They're not the only ones. Captain Rallee is already upright, a baffled expression on his face as the shocking news that he's been dating the most famous Sorcerer in the Orcish lands sets in.

  I turn towards Lisutaris.

  "You see? I told you Deeziz was in the city."

  But Lisutaris isn't listening to me. She's already speaking a spell. I get myself out of the way quickly but Deeziz remains in her chair. She appears quite untroubled. She raises one hand and moves it a few inches. There's a sort of ripple in the air, and nothing more.

  "You can't harm me," says Deeziz. "I've negated your sorcery."

  "We'll see about that," growls Coranius the Grinder, and lets loose a powerful bolt. Or tries to. The shaft of purple lightning that flies from his hand travels no further than a few inches before dissipating into the air.

  "You are wasting your time," says Deeziz. "I am more powerful than any of you."

  "I doubt it," says Lisutaris.

  "Whether you doubt it or not, it's true."

  Deeziz the Unseen rises gracefully to her feet.

  "I spent ten years on a mountaintop while you attended parties and balls, Mistress of the Sky. I took my skills to new heights while Sorcerers in Turai cast horoscopes for princess. You doubt my power? Me? The Sorcerer who made you fall sick and sapped your strength?"

  "The Sorcerer who fooled me into thinking she was a singer from Nioj!" roars Captain Rallee.

  I can see why he's upset. It was hardly civilised of Deeziz to trick him. If we get out of this alive, it's not going to do his reputation in Twelve Seas any good at all.

  "Disguising yourself as a beautiful woman when all the time you're a foul Orc!" continues the Captain.

  Deeziz looks slightly pained.

  "That's uncalled for, Captain. I wouldn't say I was foul."

  She waves her hand again, and the Human disguise drops from her features. Her skin darkens, her hair turns black, her features become a little stronger. She looks at me.

  "Do you think I'm unattractive?"

  "Er . . ." I hesitate, and look round for support.

  "I think you're still very pretty," says Dandelion.

  "Good features," adds Tirini.

  "I think you're very beautiful," says young Ravenius, then looks abashed as everyone stares at him. "For an enemy Sorcerer, I mean."

  "Even so," I say, "you can see why the Captain's angry."

  "The Captain was a most pleasant companion," says the Orc Sorcerer. "And made my stay in your city much more bearable than it might otherwise have been. But enough of this. Lisutaris, I'm disappointed in you. Your sorcery is less powerful than I've been led to believe. Deputy Consul Cicerius, you are a fool. And as for you . . ."

  She turns towards Horm the Dead.

  "Your life will not be worth living once Prince Amrag learns that you were willing to gamble the Ocean Storm away for the sake of a woman."

  Horm moves very swiftly, trying to fire a spell at Deeziz, but she waves her hand once more, sending him crashing backwards against the wall. Nothing could demonstrate her power more than the ease with which she defeats Horm. I'm hoping Lisutaris has some brilliant plan for beating her, because I certainly haven't.

  Deeziz snaps her fingers and the Ocean Storm rises out of Horm's cloak and flies into her hand. She looks at it thoughtfully for a few seconds, then towards Cicerius.

  "Perhaps it was harsh of me to call you a fool. After all, you did what you thought was best. You sent troops and Sorcerers to the south of the city to guard the sea wall. But as you will see, that was a mistake."

  "What do you mean?" asks Cicerius.

  "I mean it's what we wanted you to do. I have created panic and suspicion in Turai. I have planted rumours of Orcish incursion. I've caused phantom Orcs to be seen around the harbour. I've spread rumours of Orcish fleets around your shores. I have introduced Orcish Assassins inside your city to bring panic. I've made you send so much of your defences to the southern walls that your other walls are now insecure. Your Sorcerers Guild has insufficient power left to guard the rest of the city."

  Deeziz looks again at the Ocean Storm, and then, bizarrely, she starts to sing. She sings a verse of "Love Me Through the Winter," Moolifi's most famous song. Not emotionally, like the times she performed it for an audience, but quietly. Everyone looks on, quite mystified. If the most powerful Orcish Sorcerer arrives in your midst, the last thing you expect them to do is to start singing.

  Moolifi halts, and looks towards Lisutaris. "I've sung that song every day since I arrived here. It's based on a powerful old Elvish invocation. I wove spells into it to baffle my enemies, and bring you to ruin. And now it's done."

  "What's done?"

  Deeziz tucks the Ocean Storm into her elegant little bag.

  "Are you aware that this tavern stands on a dragon line?" she says.

  "Yes," says Lisutaris.

  "It
runs right through the city to the northern gate, where the river enters Turai. I've sent the power of the Ocean Storm along the dragon line. In around thirty seconds a wave of incredible power will flow down the river, breaking all your defences and smashing the gate. As soon as that happens, Lord Rezaz will march into Turai."

  "Rezaz is nowhere near Turai," cries Coranius.

  "On the contrary, he and his army are about to march through your shattered northern wall."

  At this moment Lisutaris once more attempts to fire a spell at Deeziz. Deeziz brushes it off quite nonchalantly.

  "Your sorcery is useless against me. But not against Lord Rezaz's army, perhaps. So it would be better for Prince Amrag if you were not around to use it."

  With that, Deeziz the Unseen raises both arms in front of her, chants a short sentence, and there's an almighty explosion. I'm thrown backwards and crash into the wall, and pass out immediately.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When I wake up, it's dark and I'm very confused. Not the sort of confusion that comes from indulging too freely in Gurd's fine ale, and coming round on the floor wondering what day it is. More the sort of confusion that makes me wonder who I am and what my name is.

  I stand up, looking around me dumbly. I'm in a large room. There are tables, chairs, half-finished drinks and a lot of cards scattered around. I'm the only person in the room. There's a fire in the hearth, burning low. It's still confusing. I can't make any sense of it at all. I notice my throat is very dry. There are drinks all over the place but I'm drawn to a bottle on the table where the cards are. I pick it up and glance at the label. The Grand Abbot's Ale. Odd name for a beer. I raise it to my lips and drink it all down.

  And then it comes back in a flash. The Grand Abbot's Ale restores my memory. I'm Thraxas, private Investigator, currently engaged in a game of cards with Horm the Dead and various others. Except Horm and all the others don't seem to be here any more. The last thing I remember is Deeziz the Unseen casting a spell. I'd guess it was some powerful spell of confusion. Powerful enough to knock me out, despite my spell protection charm. I wonder if it worked on everyone else. From the way they've all wandered off, I think it has. Particularly as the card table is still loaded with money. People in Turai would have to be very confused indeed to leave money lying around in public.

  My cards are still on the table. I flip them over: 7, 8, bishop, queen, all black. I turn over Horm the Dead's cards: four kings. It's a better hand than mine. He would have won. Of course, technically, the game hasn't finished yet. We never got round to declaring our hands. But he's no longer at the table, while I'm still here, which makes me the winner. Thraxas, number one chariot at the card table. I toss the cards in a heap then scoop all the money into my bag.

  I walk past the bar and into the rooms beyond. Gurd's room is empty. No sign of him or Tanrose. I check the store rooms. Also empty. I hurry upstairs. I have a feeling there's something badly wrong but I can't quite put my finger on it. My office is empty and so is my bedroom. There seems to be a lot of noise outside. I hurry along to Makri's room. Makri is lying on the floor, drenched in sweat, barely conscious. Lisutaris is beside her, unconscious. I kneel down beside them. Makri opens her eyes.

  "Are you confused?" I ask.

  "Compared to you, no," says Makri. "What happened?"

  "Deeziz. Enemy Sorcerer. Cast a powerful spell downstairs."

  "I heard a bang," whispers Makri. "I found Lisutaris wandering in the corridor. I dragged her in here."

  "You see anyone else?"

  Makri shakes her head.

  The noises outside get louder.

  "What's happening?"

  "I think the city has just fallen to the Orcs."

  "What?"

  Makri attempts to sit up, but fails. She's very weak, and the effort of dragging Lisutaris into her room has taken the last of her energy. I tell her to wait while I check on events outside. I walk along the corridor and go into the small cupboard which contains a ladder leading to the roof. It's an awkward climb, not one that I've made for a while. By the time I struggle on to the roof the noises outside are deafening. People are screaming in panic and confusion. I look north. Dragons are swooping over the city and smoke and flames curl over the Palace. Lord Rezaz the Butcher has taken the city and the population is fleeing as best they can. I struggle back down the ladder, and head for my office. I put on my magic warm cloak, take my sword, my illuminated staff and my grimoire of spells. I put a bottle of the Abbot's klee in my bag, along with thazis and the large joint of venison Lisutaris sent me. It's a heavy load, though not much to be taking away from the city I've lived in all my life.

  I now have to get myself, Makri and Lisutaris to safety. I'm concerned about Gurd, but he's not around and I've no way of locating him. It's possible Tanrose has taken him off somewhere. Or it's possible he's just wandered off and has been killed by the Orcs.

  Back in Makri's room I ask Makri if she can stand. She shakes her head.

  "The Orcs have taken the city. We have to get away."

  Makri scowls.

  "Orcs? In the city? We have to fight."

  She attempts to rise, but fails.

  I pick her up.

  "My swords," says Makri.

  I pick up her swords and her favourite axe and head downstairs to the back of the building. Luckily the cart is still in the stables. Everyone in the tavern must have been too confused to take it. I dump Makri in the cart and run back upstairs. I don't know how much time I have. The Orcs will be sweeping through the city. If resistance has completely crumbled it won't take them long to reach Twelve Seas. I pick up Lisutaris and carry her downstairs. I throw her in the cart then set about getting the horse affixed to the reins.

  When I make it out into Quintessence Street I'm greeted by a scene of terrible panic. People are running everywhere, screaming that the Orcs are here and we're all going to be slaughtered. It's quite likely. But I've encountered Orcs many times, and I haven't been slaughtered yet, so I'm not about to give up now. I drive the horse forward through the crowd, all heading south towards the harbour in a desperate effort to escape from the invaders.

  I have no thoughts of staying and fighting. With dragons swooping over the Palace, and Lord Rezaz's army inside the walls, we're already beaten. I don't intend to lose my life in a dark street in Twelve Seas for no reason. I spur the horse on.

  Makri emerges from her stupor.

  "What's happening?"

  "We're leaving Turai."

  "Why?"

  "It seems like a good time for a fresh start."

  Makri opens her mouth to protest, but lacks the strength, and she sinks back into unconsciousness. Our progress is interrupted when the wagon becomes hemmed in by people and we come to a halt. I look around impatiently for some means of escape but there's nowhere to go. If the Orcs arrive now we're finished. Neither Makri nor Lisutaris are in a fit state to be of any help.

  At this moment a dragon flies overhead and a troop of heavily armed Orcs advances into Quintessence Street, sending the crowds fleeing in terror. There is a terrible panic as people dive through windows into houses, climb walls, anything to escape. For a moment I consider just picking up my sword and confronting the Orcs. I can kill three with my sword and another four or five with a spell before I die. That's not too bad. I notice the alleyway on the right looks familiar. I once climbed out of the sewers into that alleyway. There's a manhole cover there. I take Lisutaris in one hand, Makri in the other and drag them over the side of the wagon. It's fortunate that neither of them are heavy women or I'd never make it. When I reach the manhole cover the Orcs are no more than fifty yards away. I open the cover, drop Makri and Lisutaris through it, clamber inside, and pull the cover over my head. Then I descend the ladder as quickly as I can, because if the water level in the sewer is high, Makri and Lisutaris will be drowning by now.

  The water is several feet deep. Makri is struggling to stand but Lisutaris is floating face down. Praying that I haven't a
ctually killed Turai's leading Sorcerer, I drag her out of the water.

  "What are you doing?" croaks Makri, slightly more animated after being dumped in the sewer.

  "Escaping. The Orcs are right overhead. Can you walk?"

  Makri nods, and then falls over.

  "No, seriously," I say, dragging her to her feet. "Can you walk?"

  "I'm strong," says Makri, and falls over again. For a moment I wish I'd just stayed and fought the Orcs, but I grit my teeth and start dragging Makri and Lisutaris through the sewer. It's a tough job but at least I know where I'm going. I've been here before. I was once chased through this sewer by Glixius Dragon Killer, curse his name. I wonder if he had something to do with the appearance of Deeziz in the Avenging Axe. I wouldn't put it past him.

  My illuminated staff lights the way but progress is painfully slow. The last time I was here it wasn't only Glixius I had to worry about. I encountered an alligator as well. Damn these sewers. And damn Makri and Lisutaris for being too ill to walk. If an alligator arrives I'll feed them to it and make an escape myself.

  After what seems like hours Lisutaris grunts, and starts to come round.

  "What's happening?"

  "You got hit by a spell of confusion and the Orcs have taken the city. We're escaping through the sewers."

  "We have to fight!" cries Lisutaris.

  "It's too late to fight."

  "We can't run away!"

  "Can you remember any spells?"

  Lisutaris looks blank.

  "Spells?"

  "The things you do sorcery with."

  The Sorcerer looks puzzled.

  "Oh yes. Spells. No, I can't seem to remember any."

  "Then we'd better keep moving. We're not far from the outlet on the shore. If we're lucky we'll be far enough away from the Orcs. I don't expect they'll scour the coastline tonight."

  Now that Lisutaris is conscious again, the going is a little easier. I sling Makri over my shoulder. Even though she seems to be unconscious she keeps hold of her bag containing her two swords and her axe. At least she's not leaving the city empty-handed.