Read Online Thraxas and the Ice Dragon by Martin Scott - Free Book Online
Authors: Martin Scott
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being married to Baron Mabados?"
"Better than being a barmaid. How did life treat you?"
"Twenty years soldiering, then I ended up living in a tavern in the bad part of town."
Demelzos was an attractive barmaid, as I recall, and she hasn't lost much in the way of looks. Her long brown hair hangs freely over her shoulders, in the style of the local noblewomen, with two slender braids looping round to meet at the nape of her neck where they're joined by a silver clasp. Though the weather is becoming milder, she hasn't abandoned her fur cape, which is luxurious, even by the normal standards of fur capes. Her shoes, while neither as extravagant nor as high-heeled as those worn by the fashionable women of Turai, are stitched with gold thread. I'd say she hasn't done too badly for herself.
"I'm guessing you'd didn't ask me here to discuss old times," I say.
"I didn't. Though if I did, I'd have something to say about the way you left without saying goodbye."
"I had to get back to my regiment. I was absent without leave."
"You could have said goodbye."
"Sorry. As a young man, I may have been lacking in manners."
"Have they improved?"
"Not really."
I'm feeling discomfited by the encounter. It's hard to know the right tone to take with a Baroness you knew as a barmaid.
"I'm told you call yourself an investigator," she says. "What do you do exactly?"
"I find out things for people."
"What sort of people?"
"All sorts. Poor people who can't afford a good lawyer. Rich people who don't want a good lawyer knowing the sort of trouble they're in. People who've got on the wrong side of someone powerful." I pause, waiting for her to speak. She remains silent. "Do you fall into one of these categories?"
"How do you find things out? Sorcery?"
"I don't know enough sorcery to tell what day it is."
"Didn't you go to the Sorcerer's college? I remember you used to talk about it."
"It never worked out."
"So how do you find things out?"
"Mostly by trudging around asking questions that other people can't be bothered to ask. It would save time if you told me what the problem is."
Demelzos muses for a while longer. It's a comfortable carriage. I don't mind waiting. It gives me some time to digest the fact that the young barmaid I had a brief affair with went on to become a Baroness. Maybe I should have stuck around till she became rich.
"My daughter thinks someone is trying to kill her," she says, eventually.
"Are they?"
"I don't think so. Why would anyone try to kill a Baron's daughter?"
"Baron have enemies, I suppose."
"Probably," agrees the Baroness. "But I can't see any reason they'd trouble my daughter Merlione. But ever since the accident she's been scared."
I lean forward. "Accident?"
"Her friend Alceten was killed by a runaway carriage. Merlione saw it happen. She'd gone to meet her at the Royal Record House. Alceten's father was the Record Keeper. She came out the building, waved to my daughter, and then she was struck down by a carriage. It was a terrible accident. Alceten's family is distraught. But that's all it was, an accident."
"Merlione doesn't think so?"
Baroness Demelzos shakes her head. "She's convinced it was deliberate. Worse, she thinks she's next."
"Were there any other witnesses?"
"I think so. Daringos, the King's Chief Steward, did carry out an enquiry. If there'd been any hint of foul play I'm sure it would have been discovered." The Baroness sighs. Briefly, she looks older. "My daughter just won't accept it was an accident. She's a quiet girl…" The Baroness's voice tails off.
"You mean quiet and sensible, or quiet and neurotic?"
"My daughter is not neurotic."
"So she's sensible?"
"I'd say so. And she's good-natured, and intelligent. I love her dearly. I'm sure she's in no danger but I hate to see her frightened. Do you think you could talk to her? Just in case there's anything in it?"
I mull things over for a little while. Outside I can hear the civilised tread of passing Barons, and the voices
"Better than being a barmaid. How did life treat you?"
"Twenty years soldiering, then I ended up living in a tavern in the bad part of town."
Demelzos was an attractive barmaid, as I recall, and she hasn't lost much in the way of looks. Her long brown hair hangs freely over her shoulders, in the style of the local noblewomen, with two slender braids looping round to meet at the nape of her neck where they're joined by a silver clasp. Though the weather is becoming milder, she hasn't abandoned her fur cape, which is luxurious, even by the normal standards of fur capes. Her shoes, while neither as extravagant nor as high-heeled as those worn by the fashionable women of Turai, are stitched with gold thread. I'd say she hasn't done too badly for herself.
"I'm guessing you'd didn't ask me here to discuss old times," I say.
"I didn't. Though if I did, I'd have something to say about the way you left without saying goodbye."
"I had to get back to my regiment. I was absent without leave."
"You could have said goodbye."
"Sorry. As a young man, I may have been lacking in manners."
"Have they improved?"
"Not really."
I'm feeling discomfited by the encounter. It's hard to know the right tone to take with a Baroness you knew as a barmaid.
"I'm told you call yourself an investigator," she says. "What do you do exactly?"
"I find out things for people."
"What sort of people?"
"All sorts. Poor people who can't afford a good lawyer. Rich people who don't want a good lawyer knowing the sort of trouble they're in. People who've got on the wrong side of someone powerful." I pause, waiting for her to speak. She remains silent. "Do you fall into one of these categories?"
"How do you find things out? Sorcery?"
"I don't know enough sorcery to tell what day it is."
"Didn't you go to the Sorcerer's college? I remember you used to talk about it."
"It never worked out."
"So how do you find things out?"
"Mostly by trudging around asking questions that other people can't be bothered to ask. It would save time if you told me what the problem is."
Demelzos muses for a while longer. It's a comfortable carriage. I don't mind waiting. It gives me some time to digest the fact that the young barmaid I had a brief affair with went on to become a Baroness. Maybe I should have stuck around till she became rich.
"My daughter thinks someone is trying to kill her," she says, eventually.
"Are they?"
"I don't think so. Why would anyone try to kill a Baron's daughter?"
"Baron have enemies, I suppose."
"Probably," agrees the Baroness. "But I can't see any reason they'd trouble my daughter Merlione. But ever since the accident she's been scared."
I lean forward. "Accident?"
"Her friend Alceten was killed by a runaway carriage. Merlione saw it happen. She'd gone to meet her at the Royal Record House. Alceten's father was the Record Keeper. She came out the building, waved to my daughter, and then she was struck down by a carriage. It was a terrible accident. Alceten's family is distraught. But that's all it was, an accident."
"Merlione doesn't think so?"
Baroness Demelzos shakes her head. "She's convinced it was deliberate. Worse, she thinks she's next."
"Were there any other witnesses?"
"I think so. Daringos, the King's Chief Steward, did carry out an enquiry. If there'd been any hint of foul play I'm sure it would have been discovered." The Baroness sighs. Briefly, she looks older. "My daughter just won't accept it was an accident. She's a quiet girl…" The Baroness's voice tails off.
"You mean quiet and sensible, or quiet and neurotic?"
"My daughter is not neurotic."
"So she's sensible?"
"I'd say so. And she's good-natured, and intelligent. I love her dearly. I'm sure she's in no danger but I hate to see her frightened. Do you think you could talk to her? Just in case there's anything in it?"
I mull things over for a little while. Outside I can hear the civilised tread of passing Barons, and the voices
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