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Good. I decide to give it to her straight.
    “There weren’t any letters, Princess. Your box was there in Attilan’s safe all right. Nice box. Very fine inlay. No letters though. Just an Orc spell for putting a dragon to sleep.”
    “How dare you examine the contents!”
    “Welcome to the real world. And how dare you send me on a case with false information. Thanks to you, Princess, I’m up to my neck in the murder of a Niojan diplomat. Sure, you used your influence to get me out of prison but that’s not going to prevent the Consul pinning the murder on me if no one better comes along. So I’d suggest you start telling me the truth.”
    We stare at each other for a while. Princess Du-Akai shows no inclination to start telling the truth.
    “Do you know who killed Attilan?” I demand.
    “No.”
    “Did you?”
    She’s shocked. She denies it.
    “Why did you want me to get that spell? Where did it come from? And why was it in your box?”
    The Princess clams up. She makes to leave. I’m mad as hell. Anytime I’m thrown in a cell I at least like to know the reason. I say a few less than complimentary things to her. She tosses a small purse on the table and tells me our business relationship is ended.
    “Don’t slam the door when you leave.”
    She slams the door. I count the money. Thirty gurans. Three days’ pay. Not bad. Another four hundred and seventy and the Brotherhood will be off my back. I wish I knew what it had all been about. I drink some more beer. It feels too hot to go to bed. I fall asleep on my couch.

Chapter Seven

I ’m woken about three thirty in the morning by Makri.
    “Makri, how many times do I have to tell you not to barge into my rooms? I might be doing something personal.”
    She laughs at the thought.
    “I’m going to start putting a closing spell on that door.”
    “Your closing spell wouldn’t hold out for fifteen seconds against me, Thraxas.”
    I expect it wouldn’t. Makri started fighting in the slave pits when she was thirteen. Seven years as an Orcish gladiator does give a person a tendency to be forceful. I struggle to rise as Makri clears some space on an old box to set up my niarit board.
    “What’s the matter with you?” she asks. “You’re looking sadder than a Niojan whore.”
    I tell her what happened with the Princess. “I got three days’ pay but I was hoping for a lot more. I guess she won’t hire me again after this. And I wouldn’t count on her help getting into the University.”
    “You mean you insulted her?”
    I admit it, but point out it was justified.
    Makri takes out a couple of thazis sticks.
    “This’ll cheer you up.”
    “If Gurd catches you taking them from the bar you’ll be out on your ear.”
    She shrugs. I light my thazis stick.
    “How’s your studies at the Guild College?” I ask.
    “Okay. Better than rowing a slave galley.”
    “You don’t sound too happy about it.”
    “It would be fine if the other students weren’t on my back all the time. I heard someone whispering ‘Orc’ when I was coming out of my rhetoric lecture. I’d have chopped his head off except then they’d throw me out. Also they don’t let me take my axe into class.”
    Makri lights up another thazis stick and sets up the opposing forces on the board, the front rank being, from left to right, Foot Soldiers of the Hoplite variety, Archers, then Trolls. The back rank comprises Elephants, Heavy Mounted Knights and Light Mounted Lancers. Each player has in their side a Siege Tower, a Healer, a Harper, a Sorcerer, a Hero and a Plague Carrier. At the very back of the board is the Castle, the object of the game being to defend your own Castle and storm your opponent’s.
    “Kerk was hanging around outside your door earlier,” Makri tells me.
    Kerk is an informant of mine. Fairly useless generally, and a hopeless dwa addict.
    “Must have some information for me. He wouldn’t come in if he heard I was with a client. I’ll look him up tomorrow.”
    I open