Thraxas - The Complete Series by Martin Scott Read Free Book Online

offend them, Thraxas? You owe them money as well?”
    I shake my head. I had no idea I’d offended the Society of Friends. I try to avoid offending large criminal organisations.
    Considering there are nine dead bodies in my room the Civil Guards make surprisingly little fuss. The attackers’ tattoos confirm them all as members of the Society of Friends, and the Society cuts little ice down here in Brotherhood territory. The Civil Guard isn’t going to waste too much time on the matter, especially as I’m a Private Investigator. Captain Rallee observes that, whatever the reason for the attack, I probably deserved it.
    Gurd is distressed at the damage to the room, but reasonably jovial about the whole affair. He hasn’t had a good fight for a long time.
    “Who was that woman?”
    “Hanama. A high-up member of the Assassins Guild.”
    Makri’s eyes widen. “There’s an Assassins Guild? I never knew they were so organised.”
    “Well it’s not an official guild. They don’t go to meetings with other guilds or send representatives to the Senate. But they exist all right. And a bunch of very deadly killers they are too. They’re behind most of the political murders here, and they’ll work for anyone who pays them.”
    “But she wasn’t trying to assassinate you, was she?”
    I shake my head. “She seemed to think I had some Red Elvish Cloth.”
    “Huh?”
    I shake my head. I can’t make it out either. “The consignment that went missing on its way to Turai,” I explain. “But what it’s got to do with the Assassins, or why Hanama thinks I’ve got it, is a mystery.”
    A municipal cart rolls up outside and some government workers start carrying the bodies out. Tholius, Prefect in charge of Twelve Seas, doesn’t spend a lot of the King’s money on keeping the place tidy but he does at least provide a service for mopping up corpses.
    “What is this Cloth?” asks Makri, as I pour myself a beer to calm myself after the fight.
    “The most valuable substance in the west. Worth more than gold or dwa because it’s completely impenetrable to sorcery. It’s extremely rare and the Elves guard it pretty closely. They make it from the roots of some bush which only flowers every ten years. Or maybe twenty. I can’t exactly remember, but it’s rare. It’s illegal for anyone but the King to own it here. He’s got a room lined with it at the Palace where he discusses state secrets with his advisers. Because it forms a total magic-proof barrier it’s the only place that’s completely safe from prying Sorcerers, so he can be sure that enemy Orcish Sorcerers aren’t eavesdropping in wartime for instance. The Orcs don’t have any of this stuff, which gives us an advantage. Plenty of people would like to get their hands on some.”
    “Were the Society of Friends after the same thing?”
    “It’s possible. I can’t think why else they’d be here. How did word get around that I’ve got the Red Elvish Cloth? It’s got nothing to do with me. It’s not even in the city.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because the Elves mark all their cloth when it’s in transit. A sort of magical signal, so any Sorcerer can locate it. After it reaches our King, an Elvish Sorcerer removes the mark, making it undetectable, but before that’s done, Palace Sorcerers could locate it with their searching spells, and I know they’ve been scanning the city.”
    “Maybe whoever stole it removed the mark,” suggests Makri.
    “Unlikely. Elvish magic markings are practically impossible to erase. Usually one of their own Sorcerers does it for the King. I wish I knew how I’d become involved in all this. I’d better learn a more powerful locking spell for my door. It didn’t take Hanama long to get through it.”
    “I like her,” says Makri.
    “What d’you mean, you like her? She was holding a knife at my throat.”
    “Well, apart from that. But she was a good fighter. I always like good fighters.”
    “You’ll be a fine