Thraxas - The Complete Series (131 page)

“How interesting.”

“So he’s a Sorcerer as well as an Assassin?”

“Will you stop calling me an Assassin?” says Copro, materialising in the centre of the room.

Makri takes her twin swords from her magic purse.

Copro laughs.

“Do you imagine those can hurt me?”

Makri, not one for banter while she fights, waits silently, swords at the ready. Copro ignores her and speaks to me, telling me of the great enjoyment he has obtained from monitoring the incompetence of my investigation.

“Do people hire you for your amusement value, fat man?”

“All the time. I crack them up at the Palace.”

“Well, I am not an Assassin. I find myself baffled that you could think me to be Covinius.”

“I don’t think you’re Covinius. I used to, but it just occurred to me that you’re Rosin-kar. Once the disgruntled apprentice of Darius Cloud Walker.”

Copro looks less pleased.

“And what do you base that on?”

“Summer Lightning. An Abelasian hair-styling term, I believe.”

“That is hardly proof,” retorts Copro.

“Maybe not. But it was enough to get my intuition working. And it will be enough to get the Sorcerers Guild to investigate your past and link you with Darius’s murder.”

“Darius’s murder? Lisutaris has been shown to be guilty, I believe.”

“You faked the evidence,” I say.

Copro smiles.

“You don’t know how I did that, do you? I’ve spied on you, Thraxas, as you’ve toiled round the city, asking questions. Every Sorcerer you came to, you asked the same question. Is there a spell for remaking reality? Everyone said no. No one knows how to do it, except me. I am the greatest Sorcerer in the west, and the world will soon know it.”

By this time I’m starting to worry. From the tone of Copro’s voice and the glint in his eye, I’d say I was dealing with a fairly insane beautician. Probably he never really got over being booted out by Darius.

“So why did you kill Darius?”

“I owed it to him.”

“Maybe. But why bother to frame Lisutaris for the murder?”

“I was well paid by Sunstorm Ramius. The Simnians were just as keen as the Turanians to eliminate the opposition.”

“But why get involved?” exclaims Makri. “You’re such a great beautician. Weren’t you happy doing that?”

“Moderately happy,” replies Copro. “But in truth, I was finding it wearing. And I loath Lisutaris. Eternally sucking on that water pipe. The woman is a disgrace to Sorcerers everywhere. While she and her kind have stagnated in the west, I have travelled the world in an effort to hone my skill. I have learned sorcery unheard of in these lands. Now I’ll show the Guild who it was they refused to allow to finish his apprenticeship.”

Copro is looking madder all the time.

“I offered my services to Simnia. When Ramius was elected head of the Guild my reward was to be Chief Sorcerer of the conquered lands.”

“What conquered lands?”

“Turai and Abelasi.”

“Tough on you it’s all gone wrong. Ramius is dead and Lisutaris won.”

Copro’s eye starts to twitch.

“I intended to kill her in the magic space. I didn’t understand why she had not been arraigned for the murder. Despite the excellent job I did in framing her, Turai had somehow managed to keep her name clear. I found that most annoying.”

Copro shrugs.

“No matter. She will be tried for the murder eventually. No one will find the secret of my spell for remaking reality. And no one apart from you will ever realise I am Rosin-kar. I see that you are wearing spell protection charms. It may take a while for me to wear them down. Rather than waste time I will now introduce you to one of my favourite creations.”

Copro claps his hands. The statue behind him opens its eyes, and steps forward. It raises its four arms, each one carrying a sword. I raise my own weapons to defend myself. Makri does the same. The statue advances a few steps then topples over with a terrific crash and lies motionless on the ground. Makri looks puzzled.

“Is that it?”

Copro is furious.

“Don’t feel bad,” I tell him. “Animating a statue is a really difficult thing to do.”

Copro claps his hands again and tigers appear from nowhere, rending at us with their claws. Makri starts fighting but I remain calm. I know these are illusions. I walk straight through a tiger and they all vanish. Immediately serpents slither down the walls and slide towards us. I feel them twining round my legs as I walk forward. It takes all my concentration to keep going. Illusionary or not, I hate to be covered with snakes. Dragonfire erupts from the walls, covering me in golden light, and a nameless demon jabs at my eyes with a spear. I ignore it all and keep walking. Finally I back Copro up against the far wall. The illusions fade away.

“You have a stronger will than one would suspect,” says Copro.

“Cheap illusions never bother me.”

“Speak for yourself,” says Makri. “Those snakes were really disgusting.”

“The Sword of Aracasan is no illusion,” says Copro, suddenly pulling a short blade from beneath his tunic.

I stare at the blade, rather worried by this turn of events. The Sword of Aracasan, a fabulous item long thought lost to the world, has the property of making its bearer invincible in combat. Armed with such a blade, a novice could hew his way through an army.

“That’s not really the sword of—”

Copro swings it at me. The blade travels faster than the eye can see, and were I not already protecting myself with my sword it would have taken my head off. As it is, the flat of my own blade slams into my face and I fly back across the room and bang my head on the four-armed statue. I try to rise but my legs no longer seem to be functioning. Copro smiles. The sword flickers in the air, again faster than the eye can see.

“A remarkable weapon,” he says, and advances towards me. He isn’t paying much attention to Makri. Possibly Copro doesn’t feel threatened by any woman whose hair he’s styled. Makri leaps at him and engages him in combat, but even her gladiatorial skills can’t overcome the Sword of Aracasan. They fight furiously for a minute or so, but each time Makri attempts to land a blow the magical sword parries it, and she’s hard pushed to avoid the answering strokes. Finally she leaps backwards and yells.

“Get him, Thraxas!”

Copro turns towards me. Makri stabs him in the back. He slumps to the floor with a surprised look in his eye.

I struggle to my feet. Makri is looking sadly at the body.

“You should’ve stuck to the beauty trade. You were good at it.”

She sighs.

“Lisutaris isn’t going to be pleased.”

She looks more cheerful.

“On the other hand, I suppose this ends the case? I mean, we’ve killed the bad guy. That usually does it.”

“We’ve killed one bad guy. Covinius is still around and we don’t have any proof it was he and not Lisutaris who killed Ramius.”

I’m bleeding. I rip a length of cloth from a towel and wrap it round my head. The villa is in chaos, with servants running around and screaming.

“Furthermore, I don’t have any proof that Copro killed Darius. He confessed to us, but who’s going to believe it?”

“When Samilius and the Sorcerers come down to investigate, won’t they find things? You know, auras and such like?”

“Maybe. Quite probably Old Hasius and Lasat might find enough here to link Copro to the Avenging Axe and the death of Darius. There’s still the matter of this remaking spell, though. If I knew how that was done, life would be easy.”

“Let’s take the sword,” suggests Makri.

I reach down, but before I can grasp the hilt it vanishes.

“I guess we weren’t worthy.”

I tell the servants that the head of the Civil Guard will be here soon to take care of the crime scene and if they touch anything they’ll all be in big trouble. Having no more time to waste, we depart into the cold and make our way back to the Assemblage.

“Do you have any thazis?” asks Makri.

“You need to calm down?”

“No, I just want some.”

We light some sticks as we ride back to the Royal Hall.

“Lisutaris has better thazis,” says Makri.

“Is she planning on cutting down when she’s Chief Sorcerer?”

Makri doesn’t think so.

“She did say she might be able to get some excellent plants imported from the south once she had better contacts in the Guild.”

“You’re far too keen on thazis these days, Makri. And dwa. You used to be a pain in the butt when you were studying and working all the time, but at least you got things done. What happened to you?”

“I got sad about See-ath,” she says.

“Any chance of cheering up?”

“I’m feeling a bit better after the fight.”

T
hough the main room at the Royal Hall is crowded with Sorcerers awaiting the confirmation, there is little sign of celebration. Fatigue has set in, and dismay at the death of Sunstorm Ramius has sobered them up. Losing one Sorcerer was bad enough, but the death of a second makes this the most unfortunate Assemblage since the infamous episode in Samsarina twenty years ago when three drunken apprentices burned down a tavern in a dispute over a game of cards, killing themselves in the process.

They huddle in their delegations, discussing the various rumours that circulate through the building. As Lisutaris is about to become the new head of the Guild, few Sorcerers want to come right out and accuse her of killing Sunstorm Ramius. That might be a very bad career move. But there are plenty of whispered comments, and much talk about foul tactics by the Turanians.

My report to Cicerius and Direeva is brief and to the point.

“Copro the beautician turned out to be Rosin-kar, onetime apprentice to Darius Cloud Walker and now secretly transformed into a powerful Sorcerer. He’s dead in his villa. If Praetor Samilius gets some of his people down there quickly enough they can probably find evidence linking him to the murder of Darius. As for Ramius, I’m nowhere, and since his body was hauled out of the magic space the Sorcerers are starting to talk. I still think that Covinius was the most probable killer, but I don’t have any proof.”

“We have proof,” says Cicerius.

I’m stunned.

“What do you mean, you have proof?”

“A witness saw Covinius emerge from the magic space.”

“What witness?”

“A man called Direxan, who’s here with the Matteshan delegation. Not a Sorcerer, he’s a Matteshan Tribune.”

I don’t understand this at all. Cicerius explains that Direxan was minding his own business outside the Royal Hall when a green portal of light suddenly opened and the notorious Covinius appeared. He dropped a knife, and disappeared into the snow. The knife had a fragment of cloth on it, which has been matched with Ramius’s cloak.

“Is this true?” I demand.

“Absolutely. Direxan has already made a sworn statement in front of Kalius and Lasat, Axe of Gold. It will shortly be announced to the Assemblage that the notorious Assassin Covinius was the killer of Sunstorm Ramius. Lisutaris is in the clear.”

“But how did this Direxan identify Covinius? No one knows what he looks like.”

“Direxan does. He was present three years ago when Covinius assassinated his superior, the Deputy Consul of Mattesh.”

“It’s extremely fortunate that such a good witness was available,” adds Tilupasis.

“More than fortunate,” I say.

“Presumably it was an internal affair involving Simnian politics,” says Cicerius. “It was my opinion all along, you will recall, that we did not have to worry about Covinius. Our concern is Lisutaris, who is now close to triumph. Have we enough evidence to now clear her name with regard to Darius?”

“No.”

“Why did you kill Copro before gaining such evidence?”

“He attacked me with a vicious magical sword.”

“You must find evidence. The confirmation is in one hour.”

Two apprentices knock and enter, with Charius the Wise in their wake. He regards Cicerius and Tilupasis with cold anger and struggles to control his manners.

“Are you still planning to have Lisutaris put forward as head of the Guild?”

“Certainly,“ says Cicerius, in his friendliest manner. “After all, she won the test.”

Charius’s long moustache sways slightly as he draws himself to his full height to stare down at the Deputy Consul.

“I am well aware of the tactics employed by Turai to gain this post. In my twenty years as master of the final test, I have never witnessed such a shameless display of illegal behaviour by any nation. You have used every underhand means at your disposal to unfairly influence the outcome of the election.”

Cicerius and Tilupasis, being politicians, are taking this calmly enough, but I can’t resist butting in. After all, it was me that had to struggle round the magic space in a snowstorm.

“Come on, Charius. Are you trying to say that other nations weren’t doing exactly the same? And as for that final test, whose novel idea was it to set some mathematical problem? Lisutaris could have beaten Ramius in any test of sorcery. Smart idea, setting a problem she couldn’t do, then sending in a Simnian mathematician. Whoever thought that up was sharp as an Elf’s ear.”