Thraxas and the Ice Dragon - By Martin Scott Page 0,70

with Makri. I told you it would be all right."

"How did you make things up?"

"With a well-chosen gift. Makri is very susceptible to gifts. Because of her background, you see." I'm pleased with myself, and let it show. "Of course, not any old gift will do. It has to be right. I spent a long time hunting round Elath, looking for something special. Must have been in twenty shops before I found that notebook."

Lisutaris shakes her head. "There's something not quite right about this."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean that you upsetting Makri with your appalling behaviour and then getting away with it just by handing her a present doesn't seem fair, somehow. I'm sure you don't deserve to be in the clear."

"Well," I say, reaching into the small bag I'm carrying. "I may make the occasional blunder. "But Thraxas of Turai is always willing to admit his mistakes, and rectify them. Back in Twelve Seas, I was well-known for my tact. Here, I brought you these." I hand a bunch of flowers to Lisutaris.

"Flowers?"

"To apologise for your inconvenience in having to visit Big Bixo's betting shop."

"I hope you're not expecting me to start crying."

"Of course not. The flowers are merely a small token of apology, and a sign of the tremendous esteem in which I hold you."

"Oh." Lisutaris seems quite taken aback. "Well thank you. I'll put them in water."

"You're welcome." I make a swift retreat, while I'm on top. All in all, it's been a successful morning. One moment the house is full of women who are angry at Thraxas. Next moment, everything is rosy. Who would have guessed, back in Turai, when Tanrose first told me that buying Makri flowers would have positive results, that the same tactic would prove so useful in the future? I'd never have stumbled on the idea myself.

After my busy morning, I could do with some rest. I retire to my room, remove my boots, lie down, drag the cover over me, and sink into a refreshing sleep.

Later in the day, as we make ready to leave, harmony has almost returned to the household. Lisutaris has her hand on Makri's shoulder, casting a minor healing spell on one of the many bruises she's picked up during the tournament. Lisutaris doesn't specialise in healing but she's quite capable of dealing with most injuries. Treating Makri's wounds with sorcery is allowed under tournament rules, providing any spell used has worn off by the time the fighters enter the ring.

"Not that anyone seems to be caring much about the rules any more," says Lisutaris. "I'm expecting Lasat and his cohorts to go all out to stop Makri today."

I agree. Lasat won't want to risk Makri reaching the final, and facing Elupus. Lisutaris again gives me the spell of deflection, to help her hold off enemy sorcery.

"If the Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild really makes a mass attack, it's going to be difficult to hold them off," I say.

"I know. But Makri's got a good spell protection necklace, it's not that easy to hit her. We might be able to protect her."

I'm still not looking forward to the Sorcerous barrage I'm letting myself in for. I have another plan of action already ticking over in my head, though I'm not going to mention it to Lisutaris. Makri's opponent in the semi-final is Bhuralin, a swordsman from Kamara, north west of Samsarina. I've seen him fight and I was impressed by his technique. Makri picks up her sword and shield.

"Thanks for the notebook."

"You're welcome."

"But I wasn't crying because of that," says Makri. "I was just upset about the dragon."

Lisutaris's carriage is outside. As always, there's a gang of children and a few older youths hanging around, gawking at Makri. I hang back for a few moments, talking to them. Then we ride towards the edge of town, where the crowd is already dense as the tournament nears its climax. Both semi-finals will be held in the late afternoon and the final will take place at midnight, by torchlight. After that there's drinking, dancing and feasting round bonfires. I'm looking forward to the drinking and feasting. I haven't felt the urge to dance for a while.

"Makri, do you know how queenstone got its name?"

"It's said it was named after Queen Eferinis."

"Wasn't she just a legend?"

"The stories about her are semi-legendary, but my old history professor thought she probably did exist. She was meant to have discovered queenstone in the Samsarinan mountains with her sorcery. She gave it to her