Thraxas and the Ice Dragon - By Martin Scott Page 0,51

spilling out of taverns, laughing and singing. Elath is now packed full of visitors, and the local authority has set up more oil lamps in the streets, illuminating the scene. As neither Lisutaris, Makri nor I are feeling much like revelling, it's a relief to reach Arichdamis's house. My relief is short-lived. Merlione is waiting for me. She's wearing a rough, dark cloak and hood over her normal garments, having travelled here in disguise. That's understandable. It's a huge breach of etiquette for a Baron's daughter to be out visiting strangers late at night. Mabados would erupt if he knew. I lead her into one of Arichdamis's guest-rooms where we can talk in private.

"I only have a few minutes," she says. "I have to get back before anyone misses me. Someone tried to kill me today."

"Tell me what happened." We're interrupted by a loud crashing noise and Merlione jumps anxiously. "It's all right, it's just Makri and the dragon."

Merlione calms herself, with difficulty. The strain is getting to her. "I went out into our flower garden and someone shot an arrow at me."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I didn't see. They must have been in the bushes, or the trees. But I bent down to pick a flower and at that moment an arrow went past me and stuck in the fence." She reaches into the depths of her cloak, producing the arrow.

"What happened then?"

"I ran inside." She looks anguished. "I didn't tell anyone. They won't believe me. My father already thinks I'm making things up."

"You should tell your mother. She'll believe you."

"I don't want to worry her more. Everything's so difficult already."

"Tell her. She can cope. And stay indoors from now on."

"Have you found anything out?" she asks.

I admit I haven't made much progress, though I assure her I'm working on it. I escort her home, and keep watch till she's safely inside.

Chapter Twenty-One

Next morning I set off early. With no strong leads and not much to go on, it's time to start bothering people. I'm intending to talk to anyone who might know anything about Baron Mabados's family. I spend the next six hours doing precisely that. In the main I talk to servants, but also question the messenger who delivers letters to Mabados's mansion, an apprentice at the saddler where he has his horses outfitted, and a woman who's been hired to provide flower arrangements for his son's wedding. It costs me some bribe money but that can't be helped. Servants don't just gossip to strangers for free.

The saddler's apprentice introduces me to a another apprentice at the coach repair shop, where I manage to inspect the carriage that killed Alceten, which was damaged in the collision. It's a medium-sized phaeton, similar to the one Kublinos has lent to Lisutaris. These phaetons aren't very grand, and while there's a cover to provide shelter from the elements, they're quite open at the front. I'm not certain anyone could remain concealed while driving. There is a tall foot-guard. It might be possible to lie behind that, if you were small enough. Merlione did say that visibility was poor. I leave the repair shop unconvinced either way.

Thanks to Lisutaris, I've managed to secure an appointment with Daringos, the King's Chief Steward. He's too busy to spare me more than five minutes, but when I meet him by arrangement at the Assembly House, he's friendlier than I anticipated. He goes so far as to tell me he can understand why there might be suspicions about Alceten's death, as it was such a shocking and unexpected event.

"But I looked into it thoroughly, and it was an accident. Someone stole the carriage from Baron Girimos's grounds the night before. We haven't been able to find out the culprits, though it was probably some revellers from out of town. Elath can be boisterous during the tournament. Whoever took it abandoned it in the street. The horses were probably nervous, and they bolted. Probably startled by dogs, there are quite a few strays down there.

"Can you be sure it wasn't deliberate?" I ask.

"There was nothing to suggest it was. The senior record keeper, Zinlantol, saw it happen. She's a reliable witness."

"You don't think there could have been someone driving the carriage?"

"Of course not. Zinlantol would have seen him. Besides, why would anyone kill that poor young woman? I've investigated quite a few misdeeds in my time, and there's always a motive. No one had a motive for killing the Record Keeper's daughter. She didn't have an enemy