I inform Makri stiffly that I was far from addled, and was certainly not crazy. “It was merely the rational response of a man who has been pushed past the limit by the ludicrous behaviour of a woman who has no idea of how to behave in polite society. What happened when you saw Casax? I take it he wasn’t too keen to return the money?”
Makri shakes her head. “Afraid not. He wasn’t keen to see me in the first place and I had to do a fair bit of fighting just to get to him. I grabbed his purse, but there’s only a hundred or so gurans in it. And after that a battle just seemed to develop between me and his men. I didn’t realise there were so many of them.”
Makri grins happily, hands me the purse, and squeezes past me to peer out of our porthole.
“The Elvish Isles. Avula, birthplace of Queen Leeuven. And the festival! I can’t wait. Remind me why we’re going there?”
“You’re not going there for anything. I’m going to get my friend Vas’s daughter out of jail. She’s accused of attacking a tree.”
“Attacking a tree? And they threw her in prison? These Elves certainly love their vegetation.”
“It was a special tree. The Hesuni Tree in fact. No doubt you have learned all about Hesuni Trees at the Guild College.”
“Heart and soul of the tribe,” pronounces Makri.
“Exactly. I don’t have all the details yet, but Vas’s daughter is in bad trouble. So kindly try not to ruin everything for me. Vas is an old friend and I want to help him. Also I can’t afford to look bad in front of Cicerius and Prince Dees-Akan.”
“Is he the dwa-ridden drunken Prince or the sober responsible one?”
“The sober responsible one. Well, sober and responsible as far as Turanian Princes go.”
“You mean he’s a lush?”
“He’s not quite as bad as his older brother. And don’t insult the Royal Family.”
My cheerful mood has vanished. I can see this is going to be a tough journey.
“When we get to Avula I doubt you’ll be allowed to go ashore, but if by some miracle you are, for God’s sake don’t mention your—your—well you know what I’m talking about. You’ll panic the Elves.”
[Contents]
Chapter Four
On the second day of the voyage Vas-ar-Methet manages to escape from his official duties for long enough to fill me in on the details of the case.
“My daughter’s accuser is Lasas-ar-Thetos, Chief Attendant to the Tree. He is the brother of Gulas-ar-Thetos, the Chief Tree Priest. According to Lasas, he caught her in the act of chopping into the tree with an axe, after she had previously tried to set it on fire.”
“What does your daughter have to say about this?”
“She remembers nothing of the incident.”
I raise my eyebrows. I don’t expect all my clients to be innocent, but the least they can do is think of a good excuse. “She remembers nothing at all?”
“No. But she does not deny that she was there. Unfortunately her memory of events appears to be completely empty. She cannot remember a thing from the time she left our house till the moment she found herself in custody.”
“You know that doesn’t look good, Vas. Doesn’t she even remember why she went to the Tree?”
Vas shakes his head. I ask him if he believes her and he is quite emphatic that he does.
“I am aware that it looks bad for her. She has no defence to present to the Council of Elders who will try her. But I do not believe that my daughter, as fine an Elf as there is on the entire island, would ever commit such a sacrilegious act. It is completely against her character, and besides, she had no reason to do it.”
Despite Vas-ar-Methet’s strong desire to see his daughter cleared, I can’t learn nearly enough from him. He has no idea of what she might have been doing near the Tree, no idea when she ever visited it in the course of her normal life, and no idea of who else might have wished to damage it.
“Do you think her memory was sorcerously affected? Has anyone checked?”
“Yes. The case has been investigated by Lord Kalith’s officials, and that includes Jir-ar-Eth, his Chief Sorcerer. I understand that he found no trace of sorcery being used in the area, although everyone knows that that would be hard to establish anyway. The Hesuni Tree creates a powerful mystical field around it. All sorcery would be affected, and it is impossible to look back in time at anything that happened there.”
I nod. I’m used to sorcery not working out too well when it comes to investigating. The idea of a Sorcerer having a look at events, sorting out some clues and producing a neat answer is fine in theory—and it works occasionally in practice—but generally there are too many variables to make it reliable, or even feasible. That’s why I’m still in a job. You always need a man who’s prepared to pound the streets looking for answers. Or, in this case, pound the trees. The Avulans live mainly above the ground, on villages suspended in the tree tops, with walkways connecting them. Last time I visited the Elvish Isles I remember travelling briskly over these walkways, admiring the ground below, but I was a lot younger then, and a lot thinner.
As Vas leaves the scrawny little Elvish girl arrives and tells me that Lord Kalith wants to see me in his cabin. I make my way there, shielding my face against the heavy rain that pounds down on to the deck. Despite the poor weather the wind is in our favour and we’re making good progress. The ship rolls gently beneath my feet and the motion brings back many memories. It’s some time since I’ve been on a voyage, but I haven’t lost my sea legs.
Lord Kalith’s cabin, while comfortable, is not ostentatious. There’s little by way of decoration to show that Kalith is the head of his tribe, though I cast a jealous eye at the fine furniture. All I have in my cabin is a bunk, and it makes for a very poor seat, particularly when the ship pitches into a trough.
Lord Kalith himself wears few emblems of his rank, as is common among the Elves. An Elvish Lord would regard anything more than a small circle of silver in his hair to be bad taste. His cloak, while slightly more sumptuously cut than those of the other Elves, is the same shade of green, and untrammelled by any decoration.
“I understand you have been questioning my crew.”
I nod. There’s no denying it, though really I have been doing little more than acquainting myself with the background of the case.
“I wish you to stop,” says Lord Kalith.
“Stop? Why?”
“As master of this ship and Lord of my island, I do not have to give you a reason. I merely wish you to stop. My sailors should not be disturbed in their duties.”
I shrug noncommittally. I would have no qualms whatsoever about outraging Kalith and every other Elf Lord while carrying out an investigation, but I figure there’s no point in annoying him yet. If things go badly for me on Avula, I’ll annoy him plenty there.
I do take the time to point out to Kalith that I am here at the bidding of Vas-ar-Methet, and was given to understand that he had his Lord’s approval. Kalith concedes that this is true, but makes it clear that he never thought it was such a great idea.
“Vas-ar-Methet is of great value to me. I could not refuse his request for help in the matter of his daughter. But I am quite certain that, sad as it may be, his daughter did actually do what she is accused of. On Avula, you have my permission to ask questions, within reason. Here on my ship, I expect you to behave with decorum, and refrain from distracting my crew.”