Thraxas and the Ice Dragon - By Martin Scott Page 0,32

her quill. Suddenly, she's not so friendly.

"I was. I'd rather not talk about it."

"I'd just like to ask you a few questions."

Zinlantol is about my age, maybe a little older. She has a surprisingly steely gaze. "Who sent you?" she demands.

"Baroness Demelzos."

Zinlantol looks at me very suspiciously, wondering if I'm telling the truth. "Did you actually see the accident?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I already told Chief Steward Daringos everything I know. He conducted a very thorough investigation."

That seems like an odd answer. I haven't implied that he didn't. I persevere. "Did you see any sign of a driver in the carriage that knocked Alceten over?"

"Of course not. I would have reported it if I had. It was simply an accident. The horses weren't secured properly, and they bolted."

"Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why did they bolt?"

"Presumably something startled them."

"But you don't know what?"

"No. I'd only just left the building when the accident happened. All I saw was poor Alceten being run down."

"It doesn't sound like you had much time to see what was happening. I hear it was raining too. Heavy rain. Visibility can't have been that good. How can you be sure there was no driver?"

Zinlantol rises to her feet. "If you have no official business at the King's Record House, I think it's time for you to leave."

We stare at each other. I take in her dress, the plain woollen drape that covers her shoulders, and a thin metal band on her ring finger, all of them cheap. But then there's the valuable queenstone earrings.

"Nice earrings," I say. "A present from a friend?"

The record keeper abruptly spins on her heel and walks off, disappearing from view through a door marked 'private.' I walk towards the entrance, past the statue of Saint Quatinius. I think he might be staring at me.

"That's what I do," I tell him. "Bully middle-aged women for a living."

The soldiers outside the door ignore me as I leave. They're discussing the tournament.

"Elupus will win it again," says one "I've got my money down already."

Chapter Fourteen

The weather is improving rapidly. Spring appears quickly in these parts. It's warm, and I'm labouring slightly as I make my way towards the Bathing Houses to meet Lisutaris and Makri. As I pass the King's Bathing House, General Hemistos emerges looking clean, healthy and weather-beaten. To my great surprise, he greets me in very friendly manner.

"Thraxas, wasn't it? Is your companion Makri due to fight today?"

"She should be, unless the other fights run late."

"Excellent," says the General. "I look forward to it. Was she really champion gladiator of the Orcish lands?"

There's an eager tone in Hemistos's voice which makes him sound younger than his years. I recognise the tone. I've heard young men sounding eager about Makri. Usually when they've just seen her walk by in the tavern wearing her chainmail bikini. General Hemistos is full of questions, and even when we encounter Baron Girimos and Harbour Sorcerer Kublinos, he doesn't stop. We meet a few more Barons, all heading to the Queen's Bathing house to pick up their wives before heading to the tournament. Normally I'd be shunned by such a company but such is their interest in Makri that for once I'm a welcome guest.

"She usually favours a twin sword technique, I believe?" says the General. "Will she be able to cope with a sword and a shield?"

"She should," I reply. "Makri can use any sort of weapon."

While it's gratifying not to be shunned, I'm not actually all that pleased about Makri's sudden rise to prominence. I'd rather she remained an outsider. If these Barons start favouring her, her odds will plummet. It was a mistake for her to appear in front of them all yesterday, shoving that young dragon around like it was a puppy. And of course, in her frankly-indecent man's tunic and leggings, she was exhibiting a lot more female shape than they're used to seeing. No wonder she got their attention.

"Vosanos!" calls Baron Girimos. "Just arrived in town?"

I recognise the name. Baron Vosanos, father of the girl that Demelzos's son is marrying. I observe him as he walks across the busy road to join his fellow Barons. He's an elderly man, the oldest Baron in view by some way. Slightly built, long, thinning grey hair, with a polished walking stick in his hand. Despite the warmth in the air, he's wearing a heavy cloak, with a thick fur collar, the sort of cloak that lets you know the owner has plenty of money. His daughter's a