Thraxas and the Ice Dragon - By Martin Scott Page 0,77
to disguise their interest. "Thraxas was quite a catch," says the Baroness. "Quite the dashing young swordsman. Plenty of women in Elath were chasing him." She leans over and places her hand on my arm. "He still has that robust charm, don't you think?"
With that, the Baroness walks swiftly away, disappearing with her servant into the crowd. Lisutaris and Makri look at me with amazement. I don't remember ever seeing Makri's mouth hanging open before. It takes them a few moments before they can speak.
"Robust charm?" says Lisutaris. "Dashing young swordsman?"
"When these women were chasing you," asks Makri. "Was it for unpaid debts?"
I smile at them, as condescendingly as I can. "Laugh all you like. We now have it on good authority that Thraxas, champion sword-fighter, was quite a catch. Shall we proceed to the arena?"
"How am I meant to concentrate after this?" mutters Makri. "It's affected my whole world-view."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I still haven't picked up our winnings on Makri's last fight. While Makri goes off to put on her armour, I hurry down to Big Bixo's betting tent. I have to barge my way through the crowd. It seems like the whole of Elath is now scrambling to gamble on the final. Combius the armourer is among the throng.
"Come to bet on Makri?" I ask.
Combius looks uncomfortable. "I'm not sure."
"She can beat Elupus."
"Maybe. But now there's sorcery involved."
"Lisutaris is more powerful than Lasat," I tell him.
"I'm not sure about that. Anyway - " Combius lowers his voice. " - people are saying the whole Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild is going to support Elupus. Lisutaris isn't more powerful than twenty Samsarinan sorcerers."
"Yes she is. Bet on Makri, she'll win."
Combius goes away, still looking doubtful. I force my way into the tent. I'd expected both Makri and Elupus to be around the same odds, but the strong rumour that Elupus will be assisted by the whole Samsarinan Sorcerers Guild has sent a lot of money in his direction. He's listed at two to five, while Makri is seven to four.
Our 10,000 winnings on the semi-final has taken our funds up to 22,042. I'd be tempted to wager it all, but once more, Bixo will only accept a bet of 5000 gurans. I place the bet, then hurry over to Generous Ges, where I do the same. As I leave, I'm silently cursing all bookmakers for their parsimony. If you're losing they'll take every guran off you. Once you start winning, they put a limit on your bets. Still, 10,000 gurans at seven to four isn't bad.
The final is due to start any minute. I rush back to the tournament field. Once there, my spirit sags as I observe the number of Samsarinan sorcerers ranged against us. They seem to be everywhere. I try not to let my anxiety show.
"Just concentrate on giving Elupus a good beating," I tell Makri. "We'll take care of the rest."
Elupus isn't a particularly tall man, but he has a strong frame and a very powerful sword-arm. He's a colourful character, as evinced by the bright silver design on his shield, and the purple ribbon he wears on his helmet, a favour for some lady or other. He's let his hair grow so it hangs down his back in a thick pony tail. That's normal for a lower-class Turanian like me, but unusual for a Simnian. Like most veterans of the arena, he carries some facial scars. When he arrives in the centre of the arena he has the audacity to bow politely to Makri, as if it were a social occasion. Makri doesn't return his bow.
My senses are again humming from the pent-up sorcery all around. I'll be lucky to make it back to he perimeter before someone fires a spell. The Marshal raises his flag and I retreat hastily towards Lisutaris. The Head of the Sorcerers Guild is ready for action. Her hair is thrust back untidily behind her ears, tied with a scrap of rainbow cloth. Her hands are already glowing with a faint purple light. Now, with no need to conceal her actions, her whole body begins to radiate magic, The entire surface of her eyes, whites and pupils, turn the same shade of purple. It's an eerie sight, something that only occurs among the most powerful Sorcerers.
The Marshal drops his flag, and then quite a lot of things happen at once. Makri raises her sword, light flashes from Lisutaris's hands, and I'm hit on the chest by something that feels like a blacksmith's hammer.