Thraxas and the Ice Dragon Read Free

causing his head to explode. As she's now looking angry enough to do it, he gets the message, and rushes off to fetch Kublinos.
    Lisutaris grunts in annoyance. "I knew Samsarina would be like this," she mutters to Makri. "If you think women have a hard time in Turai, wait till you've been here a while."
    I'm distracted by the sound of clashing swords. Several men are practicing their fighting technique in the courtyard below.
    "Officers make you practice a lot?' I ask the guard who's been left with us.
    "That's Basinos, sword fighting champion of the southern armies. He's getting ready for the tournament."
    Of course, the great sword fighting tournament. I hadn't realised it was so close.
    "Is he a favourite?" I'm always keen to pick up tips in case there's an opportunity for gambling.
    "One of the best in Samsarina. But there are a lot of good fighters. I'd say Elupus the Simnian will win it again this year."
    I've heard of Elupus, of course. He's won tournaments all over the West. Makri comes over to watch. After studying Basinos's combat technique for a few seconds, she makes a small sound of derision.
    "His defence is weak," she says. "I'd send him packing soon enough."
    The guard grins at me. Makri might be carrying two swords and an axe but he obviously doesn't imagine she knows how to use them. I grin back at him, because it's just struck me that while Makri is one of the most lethal sword-fighters ever to enter an arena, she's completely unknown in Samsarina. If she were to enter the tournament, no one would give her a chance. The bookmakers' odds would be immense. A man could make a fine profit by backing her.
    Finally an officer arrives to take us to Kublinos. "Send ahead for beer," I tell him, but I don't think he's really paying attention. He leads us through narrow streets lined with fish vendors and sail-makers' shops. As we turn a corner he indicates a large, rather splendid looking building in the distance.
    "Kublinos's official residence."
    Lisutaris draws herself up as we approach. Bedraggled or not, she still exudes power and dignity as she strides through the gate of Kublinos's residence, where we're greeted by a uniformed attendant.
    "Tell Kublinos that Lisutaris, Mistress of the Sky is here."
    "And we need beer immediately," I add.
    "Pardon?" The servant looks confused.
    "We need beer. The head of the Sorcerers Guild has just survived a dangerous voyage across the ocean. I'm shocked that no one yet has offered us beer. Bring flagons."
    Lisutaris purses her lips. "My eh… Chief Adviser Thraxas… is… " She shakes her head. "Just give him some beer. And take me to Kublinos."
    Lisutaris and Makri disappear down the purple carpet that leads to the main staircase while I head downstairs with a kitchen servant.
    "Does the Sorcerer require any particular sort of beer?" he enquires.
    "Hard to say. Just bring them all and I'll sample them. And don't stint on the flagons, keep bringing them till I tell you to stop."
    I will say this for the Samsarinans - they may be a bunch of rural bumpkins who spend most of their time plodding along in fields, but they do produce some fine beer. Dark and full of flavour. With six or seven flagons inside me, and the remnants of four loaves of bread on the table, I start to feel more like myself again. For the first time since I was forced to flee Turai, life seems not quite so hopeless.
    "Of course," I say, quite loudly, to the servant who brings me my eighth flagon. "You can't blame a man for feeling hopeless if he's stuck on a boat with a crazy Orc, a depressed Sorcerer, and no beer. Stronger spirits than mine would have quailed. Do you have any more bread? A few yams maybe?"
    I notice my flagon is empty. "What's the matter? Is there a beer shortage? The Head of the Sorcerers Guild isn't going to be pleased when she hears you've been stingy with the ale."
    It seems to me that the servant is a little tardy in bringing my ninth large flagon, but I don't make a fuss. After all,