by Steven Brust
“Did his wife go to her when he needed to borrow the money?”
“No, she should have though. We’d have found it.”
“If you find it now, and give it to me, that’ll solve the problem.”
“Over time, the amount has become rather large.”
“Yes, that does happen.”
“Hence, I thought I’d negotiate.”
“You see, Lord Blue, I’m generally willing to negotiate.”
“Generally?”
“Generally. But there’s the matter of the holes you put in one of my people. I don’t care for that. And then there’s the fact that instead of coming to me like a gentleman and explaining that he was having problems, in which case I’d have been willing to work something out with him, he avoided me for several weeks, and then you show up. To be blunt, Lord Blue, I’m just not feeling inclined to negotiate much of anything. So, now what?”
He glanced at the sword on the table. I carefully placed my hands on the table, smiled at him, and waited.
“You’re very good,” he said at last.
“At what?”
“Fighting. I can tell. You think you can take me. I think I can take you.”
I smiled and waited, my hands on the table. The weight of the dagger in my left sleeve was reassuring.
He glanced at Loiosh and said, “You think your friend there will give you an edge.”
“Possibly,” I told him.
“I don’t think it will be enough.”
I nodded, my eyes never leaving his. I was pretty sure I could take him even without Loiosh’s help. But you never know until you’re there.
“But,” he said, still maintaining eye contact, “as I told you, I would prefer to negotiate.”
“I’m not inclined to negotiate.”
“Do you really want to push this?”
“I’m in a bad mood. I told you why.”
“You shouldn’t lend money at ruinous interest rates, then threaten violence when people can’t pay, and then act surprised when they go to extraordinary lengths to protect themselves.”
“Have I been acting surprised?”
“Good point.”
“I have more good points. Like, he knew the rates when he took the loan. And he would have had no reason to fear violence even when he got behind if he’d come to me and explained his problem. I’m always willing to work with someone, up until the time they bring in a hired sword to mess up my people.”
“He didn’t handle this very well.”
“No.”
“He could have gone to the Empire, instead of to me.” I didn’t say anything to that. After a while he said, “Yes, well, we both know that would have been a mistake.”
“Yes,” I said.
“So, what do we do now?”
“You’re talking, I’m listening.”
“What if we give you double the initial amount of the loan and call it even.”
“If I didn’t have a guy being patched together by a physicker, I’d probably go for that.”
“And I pay for the physicker.”
I mulled it over. Evidently, he was serious about wanting to avoid violence. Well, the fact is, I’d like to avoid violence as well. I’m here to make money, not mayhem. But it annoyed me to have a punk like Byrna pull something like this. It annoyed me a lot.
“Boss?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s business.”
“Yeah.”
I said, “All right, I accept the deal. But the money comes through you. I don’t want to see Byrna. I don’t trust myself.”
He nodded. “I’ll have the money sent to you. And if you give me the name of the physicker, I’ll take care of that, too.”
I felt obscurely disappointed, but agreed.
“Good then,” he said. “One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You hungry?”
Interesting indeed. What might this be about? Probably nothing it would be smart to get involved in. “Just ate,” I told him.
“All right.”
But then, we Easterners are curious beasts. “I could stand a drink, though.”
“On me.”
I stood up and preceded him out the door. He wasn’t a Jhereg, so he might not have appreciated the courtesy.
“Boss? What’s this about?”
“No idea. Maybe he wants to show how friendly he can be to Easterners.”
“You think?”
“Probably not. But I suspect if we take him up on the drink we’ll find out.”
We went back into the room, and I could feel the Dzurlord, Ibronka, looking us over carefully. Then she stood up and walked toward Lord Fox. Sticks, who’d been leaning against the bar, walked over to greet me, just coincidentally putting himself between me and Ibronka.
Foxy said, “Lord Taltos, this is Ibronka. Ibronka, Lord Taltos.”
I bowed without undue exaggeration and said, “This is Stadol, and this is Shoen. Let’s find a table.”
We did, except for Shoen and Sticks, who each took a table flanking ours. The guy with the funny name ordered us two bottles of Khaav’n; apparently he was settling in for a while. His hand was under the table; so was Ibronka’s. If we were going to be romantic, I wanted Cawti there. If we were going to be violent, I wanted Cawti there for that. I should have thought to invite her, dammit.
They brought the wine, already opened, and Blue poured it for us. We drank some. It was pretty decent, though I’d have served it slightly chilled.
I sat back and studied him some more, and waited. Loiosh shifted a little on my shoulder; he was waiting, too.
“So,” said the Blue Fox. “I’m glad we were able to settle things peacefully.”
“Uh huh.”
He hesitated, then said, “There’s a reason, of course.”
“I’m sure there is. Want to tell me about it?”
He nodded, hesitated, then said, “I could use your help.”
“I wondered about that,” I said. “The trouble is, you aren’t Sethra Lavode.”
2
“No,” he said. “In fact I’m not. Um, would you mind explaining that remark?”
“She got away with that once—messing up one of my people as a means of hiring me. I don’t think—”
“Oh,” he said. “No, that isn’t what happened. I agreed to help Byrna, like I said, then I learned something about you, and it occurred to me that if we didn’t slaughter one another, we might be able to work together to our mutual advantage.”
“Do you believe him, Loiosh?”
“I think so. Maybe.”
I drank some wine to give myself time to think, and swallowed wrong and coughed noisily, which gave me lots of time to think but no ability to do so. Embarrassing, too. They pretended not to notice.
When I was recovered, I wiped my eyes and summoned what dignity I could and indicated that I was listening.
“You don’t know a lot about me,” he said.
No, but more than you think I do, I thought. And I’ll be learning more quickly. But I only nodded.
“I’ve been doing what I do for, well, since the end of the Interregnum.”
I nodded, waiting; I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction. But then he waited, and then he raised an eyebrow, so I sighed inwardly and said, “All right. What is it you do?”
“I rob people.”
“You rob people.”
“Yes. I hold my sword at their throats, and require them to give me their money. They oblige, and I send them on their way.”
“Is that honest?”
“No one’s ever asked me before. I’ll think about it and get back to you.”
“Thanks. So, how can an honest businessman like me be of service to a dangerous highwayman like yourself?”
“I was told you think you’re funny. That’s all right, I think I’m funny, too.”
“What else were you told?”
“That you have ways of learning things
no one can understand, that you practice the Eastern sorcery—”
“Witchcraft.”
“Hmm?”
“We call it witchcraft.”
“Right. And you also dabble in the more traditional sorcery. And that you’ve gotten lucky often enough that it probably isn’t luck.”
I tried to think of who he might have spoken with who would have given him that sort of report, but it was a pointless exercise so I stopped. “All right,” I said. “What can someone with my skills do for someone in your profession?”
“You also have influence, and you know a lot of people.”
I didn’t say yes, or no, or nod, or shake my head. In fact, I had no idea what he was talking about, but if he was operating under some sort of illusion about me, it might work to my advantage.
He glanced at Ibronka, who was leaning back and studying me while, I’m sure, holding his hand under the table; they were probably also talking psychically. He said, “Things have been getting more difficult over the years.”
“In what way?” That seemed neutral enough.
“More and more use of sorcery to maintain the safety of the roads, and to learn the identity of those of us who violate it. People with large sums or valuable jewels teleport instead of traveling by road, or if they have to travel, they teleport most of the money, so all we can take is what they have to travel with.”
“Sorcery,” I said. “Bad stuff.” About which I knew fairly little. He was right earlier when he said I dabbled.
“Inconvenient, in any case. And it’s getting worse. Now it’s becoming difficult to find clients safely.”
I laughed. “Clients,” I said. “I like that. I like that a lot.”
He permitted himself a smirk. “Yeah, me, too.”
“I’m missing the part where I can be helpful.”
“I usually operate in an area to the east of here.”
“Ah. I start to see.”
“No, no. Not that far east.”
“Oh, all right.” My anger receded quickly, because it hadn’t had time to work itself up, but I still missed half of his next statement. “Sorry, say that again?”
“I said they’re starting to tag the money.”
“Tag?”
“That’s what they call it. Sorcerously mark it.”
“So it can be identified as stolen?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“That’s how I feel about it.”
“How are they—”
“They’ve set up places where you can have your money tagged, so if it’s stolen, a sorcerer can identify it. I was lucky enough to learn about it before servicing a client who’d done that. Now that we know what to look for, we can tell, but it’s getting common enough that we’ve had to let some prime targets go.”
“You have my sympathy,” I said. “What happens when the proper owner tries to spend it?”
“The tagging is tied to him, so he just rubs it off.”
“What if he forgets?”
“A merchant gets in trouble, I suppose.”
“And it’s cheap to put on?”
“Very. They do it by volume, so with gold it costs next to nothing.”
“Sounds unfortunate.”
“Right. So … why am I coming to you?”
“I was just getting to that question.”
“I’m wondering if maybe there’s a way for me to get the money to you, and for you to return me money that hasn’t been tampered with. For a fee, of course.”
I shook my head. “Can’t do it. Not my kind of thing. But I could make a suggestion.”
“If your suggestion is the Left Hand, I tried that.”
“Oh. You’re well informed. Sorry it didn’t work. What happened?”
“They were willing to do it. For thirteen orbs for each imperial.”
“That’s what they wanted?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “It’s like highway robbery.”
“That’s very funny, Lord Taltos.”
“Why thank you, Lord Blue.”
Ibronka glared at me a little, then looked away as if I wasn’t worth her time.
“I liked it, Boss.”
“Thanks, Loiosh.”
He said, “So the Left Hand is out of the question. If you don’t want to get involved in this, do you have any suggestions for who might?”
“Let me think about that.”
“I’d be willing to pay for any idea that—”
“Let’s not worry too much about the paying part. Let me just try to think of something. Hey.”
“What?”
“Why am I doing the thinking? You’re the Tiassa.”
He rolled his eyes; I considered myself answered.
Did I know anyone who’d be interested in a deal like that? No one I’d want to give it to, at any rate. But it was an interesting exercise, trying to figure a way around it.
“Boss? Do you care?”
“Let’s say I’m intrigued.”
“If you say so.”
“Any idea who came up with this?”
“Some Imperial sorcerer. There were complaints about the safety of the roads, you know.”
“See how it is?” I said. “As soon as you get good at something, they move to cut you off. It’s as if they fear anyone being successful. I sympathize.”
“Uh huh.”
“The Tiassa isn’t doing his job, Loiosh. So if anyone’s going to come up with a brilliant idea, I guess it’ll have to be you.”
“I’ll get right on that, Boss.”
“How does it work, exactly?”
“It’s pretty straightforward. It takes a few seconds to do a bagful of coins, and an hour with each one to undo it.”
“Sort of cuts into your profits.”
“Exactly.”
“What if you spend it a long way from where you got it? Every merchant in the Empire isn’t checking.”
“I’ve been doing a bit of that. But more of them are starting to. The Empire is offering tax reductions to any merchant willing to check coins. They supply—”
“Oh.”
“Hmmm?”
“I heard something about that. Some device, and they’d give me a reduction on my taxes if I—”
“You’re a merchant?”
I looked innocent. “I am part owner of a perfectly respectable psychedelic herb shop, thank you very much.”
“Oh. I see.”
“I thought it was some sort of listening device they were trying to install.”
“It might be that, too,” he said.
“You don’t trust the Empire much, do you?”
“As much as you do. Less, because I probably know it better.”
“All right. So it won’t work much longer to just use the coins elsewhere. What do they do if you spend it somewhere that doesn’t have the means of detecting it?”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“What if you went to, say, my shop and bought an ounce of dreamgrass. I wouldn’t know the coin was tagged. So then I’d spend the coin somewhere, and—”
“Oh, I see. They treat it just like they do a coiner: ask you where you’d gotten the coin, and try to work back from there.”
“I was approached by the Empire about six weeks ago. How long has this been going on?”
“About that long, more or less.”
I nodded. “A new program. They’re always thinking, those Imperial law enforcement types. They never let up. It’s an honor to run rings around them.”
“That’s been my feeling, yes.”
“So it sounds like the only choice is to reduce the cost of removing the—what were they called?”
“Tags.”
“Right. Reduce the cost of removing the tags.”
“That’s better than my idea?”
“What was your idea?”
“I was going to write the Empire a letter saying please stop.”
“Heh,” I said. Then, “Woah. You are a Tiassa.”
“Meaning?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Somehow, I doubt they’d be impressed by the letter.”
“I don’t think a letter is the best way, but the idea is sound.”
“What idea?”
“Convincing the Empire to stop tagging the coins.”
“Are you serious?”
“Why not?”
From the look on his face, he thought I was jesting; from the look on mine, I think, he eventually decided I wasn’t. His eyes narrowed and he looked even more cat-like, but I declined to scratch him behind the ears. He said, “How would you do that?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Oh. Thought you might have something.”
“I think I might.”
“What?”
“The idea you just gave me. Convince the Empire to stop tagging the coins.”
“Which you have no idea how to do, and, therefore, no reason to believe it can be done.”
“You’ve stated our position exactly,” I said. “I’m proud of you.”
Ibronka stirred and said to Bluey, “Mind if I eviscerate him?”
“Just one?” he said. “And an Easterner?”
“I’m not thinking of a fight, more of pest control.”
“I’d rather you didn’t just yet, love.”
“All right.” She turned back and smiled sweetly at me.
I decided I liked her. “It must be hard on you,” I told her. “Most of the time when dealing with clients, you have the advantage. Has to be hard for a Dzur to take.”
She pretended I hadn’t spoken.
I spent a few minutes thinking over the problem, and when Loiosh asked again why I was bothering, I pretended he hadn’t spoken. I can do that stuff, too.
It wasn’t at all the sort of thing I could do, but I had friends—or acquaintances at least—who could do a lot of things I couldn’t. Sethra Lavode, Morrolan, Aliera, Kiera—
Kiera.
Kiera had told me once, about … how did that work? I remained silent as the idea built a nest and laid some eggs.
Blue-guy might have a stupid name, but he wasn’t stupid. He said, “What is it you know that you aren’t telling me?”
“Lots of things,” I said. “And the reverse is true as well, I’ve no doubt. Do you want this done, or don’t you?”
