As the man on my left lunges in, I step nimbly to one side, bring my blade down on his wrist then kick his legs so he crashes to the ground. The second man leaps at me. I parry his blow, twisting my own blade in such a manner that his flies from his hand, spinning through the air to land in the snowdrift behind us. I punch him in the face. He loses his footing on the icy ground, and lands with a dull thud.
I stare at Rezox.
“Were these the best you could find?”
Rezox screams at the men to get up and attack me again. I look down at them.
“Better get going. You just used up the last of my patience. Attack me again and I’ll kill you.”
They’re petty thugs. Not good for much but just smart enough to know when they’re about to die. They scramble to their feet and without so much as glancing at Rezox stumble off into the darkness. I place the point of my sword at Rezox’s throat.
“Let’s go.”
I lead him off to the next warehouse, where I’ve left a small wagon and a horse. The horse is none too pleased about being left in the cold space, and snorts angrily as we arrive.
“I’ll split the dragon scales with you,” says Rezox as I load him into the cart. I don’t reply. We set off. Technically it’s illegal to ride horses or wagons in the city at night, but on a night like this there won’t be any civil guards around, and I’ve no intention of struggling on foot to the Transport Guild’s headquarters.
“You’re a fool,” he sneers. “You’re too stupid to know what you’re doing. What does the Guild mean to you? They’re just as corrupt as everyone else.”
“Maybe. But they hired me to arrest the thief. And you’re the thief. So here we are.”
Rezox can’t understand why I care. Neither can I.
“I’ll hire a lawyer and beat the charge in court.”
I shrug. He probably will. Turai is a corrupt city. There are plenty of clever lawyers always ready to represent men like Rezox.
The warming spell has completely worn off and my cloak offers me no protection from the elements. I’m numb with cold. Rezox still looks comfortable in his luxurious fur. He should have tried to bribe me with that.
[Contents]
Chapter Two
Next morning I sleep late. I’d sleep later if Makri didn’t barge into my room complaining about the weather.
“Is this stupid winter ever going to end?” she demands.
Makri is young and she hasn’t been in the city that long. She isn’t used to our climate yet. The seasons in Turai may be grim, but they’re very regular.
“Sure it’ll end. In two or three weeks. And how many times have I told you not to barge into my room in the morning?”
Makri shrugs.
“I don’t know. Ninety, a hundred, something like that. Will it get hot in two weeks?”
“No. After winter we get the cold, rainy season. Which is also terrible.”
“I hate this place,” declares Makri, with feeling. “The summer’s too hot, the autumn’s too wet and the winter’s too cold. Who’d build a city here? It just goes to show that Humans are foolish.”
Makri is actually half Human herself, along with one quarter Orc and one quarter Elf. Which race she chooses to criticise depends on the circumstances.
By this time I’ve dragged myself out of bed and opened my first beer of the day. My rooms are freezing and I throw some wood on the fire, which is still smouldering from the night before.
“At least the Elves have the good sense to live in the Southern Isles where it’s hot. And I still don’t see why we had to come back so quick.”
I’m in agreement with Makri about this. Just six weeks ago we were far south on Avula, one of the largest Elvish islands. After some initial unpleasantness—the Elves panicking about Makri’s Orcish blood, me being slung into prison, the usual sort of thing—life smoothed itself out and we were settling down for a pleasant vacation, more or less welcomed by all. Unfortunately Deputy Consul Cicerius and Prince Dees-Akan, also members of the Turanian visiting delegation, wouldn’t let us stay, claiming that they were needed back in Turai for important official business. This led to all Turanians being obliged to board ship and set off homewards in some of the worst weather I’ve ever voyaged in, and I’ve sailed through a lot of bad weather. Makri, a very poor sailor, set some kind of record for sea sickness. She swore on more than one occasion she was going to kill Cicerius for making her endure such a journey. When we put in at Turai and found ourselves deep in the middle of such a fierce winter, I was tempted to agree with her.
I tell Makri to stop prowling around.
“If you have to infest my rooms at this time in the morning, at least sit down.”
“I can’t sit down. I’ve got too much energy. I want to go to college. Why do they shut it in winter?”
“Because most students wouldn’t want to fight their way through snowdrifts to get there. And neither would the professors.”
The twenty-one-year-old ex-gladiator is a very keen student and finds this interruption to her studies extremely frustrating. Yesterday she struggled all the way up town to the Imperial Library, only to find that it too was closed.
“I was furious. Don’t librarians have some sort of duty to the public?”
“It’ll be open again soon, when the Sorcerers arrive in town.”
“I can’t wait. I can’t stand doing nothing. Are you tracking anyone violent just now? Do you need me to kill them?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Makri continues to pace up and down. She’s been in an odd mood since we got back from Avula and I’m not sure why. I wouldn’t care, if it wasn’t for the fact that she keeps waking me up in the mornings, and I’m finding it wearying. Fifteen years ago I could march all night and fight all day. These days I need my sleep. She asks me how I got on last night and I tell her that everything went fine.
“Just hung around outside the warehouse till Rezox showed up. Nothing to it really, he had two thugs along but they weren’t what you’d call fighters. I chased them off, Rezox tried to bribe me, I refused and now he’s in the custody of the civil guards, charged with stealing dragon scales.”
“Who wants dragon scales?”
“Elegant women.”
“What for?”
“Jewellery.”
“Aren’t dragon scales too big for jewellery?”
“The jewellers cut them to size. Then they sell them to rich women who want to sparkle. Costs a lot for a pair of dragon-scale earrings.”
“Did the Transport Guild pay you well?”
“Standard thirty gurans a day. I thought I wouldn’t have to work all winter with the money we won on Avula.”
Whilst there, Makri trained a young Elf to fight. She did this so effectively that the young Elf won the junior tournament. As this Elf was previously the weakest, most pathetic Elf on the island, I was able to pick up a bundle by shrewdly backing her at long odds. It was a gambling triumph, one which was rather marred by a run of bad luck at the card table on the journey home.
“It was dumb to lose your money.”
“What else was I meant to do on the ship? At least I enjoyed my share. What did you do with yours?”
Makri doesn’t answer. In all probability she gave it to the Association of Gentlewomen. More fool her. There are plenty of rich women in the Association, but Makri says she has to do her bit. She gets back to complaining about the weather.
“I hate the cold. I have to wear too many clothes. It doesn’t feel right. Why won’t they open the library? How am I meant to practise with my axe when it’s too cold to go outside? You know Gurd warned me for taking some thazis from behind the bar? As if he can’t spare it. I hate working here. I hate Turai. I hate Twelve Seas worse. Why is it so cold? At least in the gladiator slave pits no one froze to death. What’s the point of living in a place like this? Nothing ever happens. I loathe it. I need a new nose stud, I’m bored with this one. You know that young guy that comes in the tavern, he works at the tannery? He had the nerve to ask me out, and only last month I heard him saying how anyone with Orcish blood should be run out the city. I was going to punch him but Gurd always complains if I hit the customers. It gets me down. Don’t you ever tidy your room?”