Thraxas and the Elvish Isles by Martin Scott

Author:Martin Scott
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781841490021
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2000-04-14T12:00:00+00:00

[Contents]

Chapter Eleven

Lady Yestar is not at all as I had anticipated. As she is the wife of Lord Kalith and a very aristocratic Elf in her own right, I had expected her to be cool and aloof, distant in that particular way only an Elf with a long lineage can be. Some of the great Elvish families can trace their ancestry back as far as the Great Flood, an event that, though only mythical to the Human nations, is historical to the Elves.

Yestar certainly looks the part; she’s tall, pale-skinned and tending towards the ethereal. At first sight she gives the impression of being an Elf to whom the affairs of a Turanian Investigator will be well below her notice. In this I am mistaken. She turns out to be a friendly, cheerful, intelligent Elf who greets us warmly while laughing at the enthusiastic antics of her daughter. I notice that she wears eye make-up, which is rare among the Avulans.

Isuas herself seems transformed in the presence of her mother. She still trips over rugs but her shyness largely disappears and she no longer seems like the hopelessly inadequate child of a very busy and important family.

Lady Yestar rises further in my estimation when, in reply to my polite question about the availability of beer on Avula, she informs me that, while it is generally not drunk in the Palace and other similarly elegant establishments, it is brewed and enjoyed by many of the common Elves.

“I could ask my attendants where you might meet with other Elves who partake of it.”

By this time I’ve shaken off the effects of the thazis binge but I’m not so sure that Makri has. I’m surprised to see her patting Isuas affably on the head and admiring her floppy green hat.

“Would you like it?” enquires Isuas.

Makri would, and accepts it with glee.

“Bezin hat,” she says, cramming it over her head, where it looks ridiculous.

Bezin is a pidgin Orcish word that Makri uses of things she approves of. It’s utterly unsuitable for use in a place like this but fortunately Lady Yestar has never encountered pidgin Orcish and it passes unnoticed.

“You must have had an interesting life,” says Yestar. “Isuas is full of stories about you.”

“Very interesting,” agrees Makri. “Champion gladiator of the Orcs and now barmaid at the Avenging Axe. Also I’m studying at the Guild College. And I help raise money for the Association of Gentlewomen. They’re trying to raise the status of women in Turai. Do the males on Avula treat the females like lower forms of life? Turanian men are dreadful; you wouldn’t believe some of the things I have to put up with as a barmaid.”

This is all quite inappropriate as an opening speech to Avula’s Queen, but Yestar only laughs. More than that, she conveys the impression that yes, she has met a few dreadful males in her time. I sip some wine, and let them talk. Lady Yestar obviously likes Makri and that is all to the good.

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