by Steven Brust
Fox-boy, still glaring, one hand on Ibronka’s arm, said, “If I already know it, why are you saying it?”
“I’m trying to figure out why you’re coming after me.”
“Because you had her beaten, and cursed.”
“Actually, H’noc did, as you know.”
“He works for you.”
“True enough.” I shrugged. “She worked for me, too. And she stole from nums. That’s what happens when you do that. And there are healers, you know. By now—”
“Not the point,” he said.
“No,” I said. “I suppose it isn’t.” I sighed. “You understand, I hope, that you’re an idiot.”
Oddly, that did nothing to reduce the glare he was still sending at me. Fortunately, I’m used to being glared at, and it no longer gives me the night sweats.
I leaned back. “You went through all that work because a tag who stole from a num got slapped around a little. What was my man supposed to do, give her a bonus? So you arrange to have me beaten—nice move, by the way, two for one, and then—what—you wanted to get me arrested? You know what happens if I go down for possession of tagged coins? A fine, a few lashes, maybe a little time. Then I’m right back here. What’s your point, anyway?”
“I’ve heard all I want to,” he said.
“If you’d talked me into attacking you the first time we met, you weren’t even planning to kill me, were you? Just cut me up a bit.” I shook my head. “Like I said, you’re an idiot.”
“If you want to pay in full,” said Ibronka, “it isn’t too late.”
“Yes, it is,” said Blue-boy. “He wouldn’t be talking like this if he didn’t have his people all around us. They’ll cut us down before we have time to draw, love.” He looked at me. “Right?”
I looked back at him and nodded once.
Ibronka said, “It might be worth the attempt.”
The Viscount shook his head.
“Stay alert. If it happens, it’ll be fast.”
“I was about to tell you that, Boss. I’m on the Dzur.”
I signaled for another pitcher. No one had spoken by the time it arrived, but after I’d poured us each another cup, Ibronka sat down. Fox-guy said, “So, what do we do about this?”
“I don’t know. The wine is good. We can just enjoy one another’s company. Talk a little. Exchange thoughts. Do you think any of the new foot-tax will actually end up helping the poor? And just who counts as the ‘poor’ anyway? Or we could talk about the new Botanical Garden they’re building near the Tsalmoth Wing. I’d like to see a section of roses. What would you like?”
Ibronka said, “I think I have a good chance of taking your head off before your people drop me.”
“Okay, then, you pick the topic.”
“Or maybe instead of taking it off, I’ll split it down the middle. Like a melon, you know? If I do it just right, both halves will sort of tilt away from each other. It’s the cutest thing.”
“I’d be sad to miss it.”
“There’s something I’m not getting,” said the guy in the blue cloak. “You’ve set up this meeting. You don’t want to kill us, or you wouldn’t do it this way, but you can certainly protect yourself. Or you at least think you can, which is the same thing.”
“Philosophically, that’s—”
“So, why are we here?”
“We really are getting philosophical, aren’t we?”
“You enjoy banter as much as I do, but you’ve just been…” He cocked his head, then straightened up suddenly. “You’re waiting for something.” He stood. “Let’s go, love.”
“Too late,” I observed, gesturing over Foxy’s left shoulder at the gentleman who was approaching. He wore the black and silver of the House of the Dragon, and had the high cheekbones and characteristic bridged nose. His eyes were dark, and he didn’t look altogether pleased.
As he approached, I rose and bowed. “Lord Feorae, I presume.”
“You presume wrong,” he said coldly. “My name is Donnel, and I have the honor to serve the Lord High Investigator of Adrilankha.”
I nodded to Blue-boy. “The Lord High Investigator is Feorae. This guy works for him.”
“I picked up on that.”
“Of course you did.” I turned back to Donnel. “I am Vl—”
“I know who you are,” he said. His voice hadn’t warmed up. “That was a nice move you made. My lord the Lord High Investigator is at present entangled with the Phoenix Guards. It will take some time to get that straightened out. In the meantime, you, Jhereg, may come along with me now, or wait until the Phoenix Guards appear to escort you. But I assure you, if you wait for them, it will be more unpleasant for you.”
I felt my eyebrows climb. “Me? What did I do?”
“You didn’t think we could trace the coins?”
I sighed. “I had hoped not.”
Foxy chuckled. “Not what you were hoping for, perhaps? The wrong person getting arrested?”
I shrugged. “You take your best shot. I’ll live.”
Donnel turned to the Fox. “And as for you, sir, I have nothing to say. This is between you and your father.”
Blue-boy stared off into space. “My father will understand. My mother will be disappointed, however.” Then he turned to me. “Have a pleasant time with the magistrates, Lord Taltos.”
I stood and unbuckled my sword belt, passing the rapier over to the constable. To Foxy I said, “Can I expect you to be at the flogging, at least? It will help to look into your smiling face.”
“Sorry,” he said, “public punishments aren’t my thing.”
“I’ll be there,” said Ibronka. “If they give you more than fifty. Otherwise it isn’t worth my time.”
I smiled. “When I’m done with this, maybe we’ll finish our conversation.”
“Maybe we will,” said Foxy.
“Loiosh, take off; it’ll save trouble.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.” He launched himself from my shoulder and flew in a high circle before heading back toward my part of the city.
Donnel took hold of my arm above the elbow. I wanted to glance back at the Blue Fox and Ibronka, but I resisted the temptation.
Donnel led me away.
5
As we got around the corner, Kragar said, “Where to now, Vlad?”
I jumped, cursed, and said, “Back to the office. You can send the muscle home.”
“All right.”
“Omlo, you can break character now; we’re safe.”
My captor released me and said, “Yes, my lord.” He handed me back my sword belt and I strapped it on.
“See there? You didn’t even die.”
“When they looked at me, I was sure they could see through my disguise.”
“You managed it,” I said. “And even if you hadn’t, I had a few people there, ready to jump in.” There was no reason to tell him that the people were there to keep me alive, and would probably have let him get cut to pieces.
We made it back to the office without incident, and Cawti was waiting there. I suggested everyone sit down.
“Very cute,” said Kragar.
“What?”
“The stupid grin on your face when you saw your assassin.”
“Her name is Cawti,” I said. “And the only reason I don’t kill you is that I’m going to let her have the pleasure.”
“Sometime,” she agreed, “when you aren’t expecting it.”
“Not until you’re married, I hope. I wouldn’t want to miss the wedding.”
“Oh, of course,” she said.
“Goodness, Vlad. She even has your threatening smile.”
“It’s an Eastern thing.”
I sat down behind my desk.
Omlo said, “My lord? Is it over?”
I nodded. “Yes. All finished. At least for a while.”
“A while?” said Kragar.
“Until Foxy and his little friend figure out that I haven’t been arrested and won’t be fined and
flogged. Then they might come back for me. Or maybe not. And you,” I added, addressing Omlo, “should expect a visit from the Phoenix Guards.”
“I—”
“Don’t worry. You delivered some gold from the Viscount of Adrilankha to a Hawklord named, uh, whatever you called yourself. You received three copper pieces for this service. That’s all you know. They won’t spend much time with you.”
“My lord,” said Omlo, “can you explain?”
“Explain what?”
“Why we just did, ah, whatever it was we did.”
“Oh. Our friend the Fox wanted me arrested and flogged and such because I owned the brothel where Neritha was beaten. They had an attachment to her. So we just convinced them that I’ve been arrested.”
“But then, if it was all a fake, why did we go through all of that with Lord Feorae?”
“In the second place, to make it look good. In the third, just because it’s fun to mess with the Phoenix Guards. In the first, because when Feorae sorts everything out, they’ll do a trace, and the trail will lead back to you, and then to His Excellency the Viscount of Adrilankha, also known as the Blue Fox.”
“But you—”
“I never touched the bag of gold,” I said.
“Boss, you’re really irritating when you’re smug.”
“Shut up.”
Omlo considered this. “What happens then?”
“To him? Nothing. But word will get back to his mother and father, and now they owe me, because they’ll know I could have made things uncomfortable and embarrassing for all of them, and I didn’t.”
“When,” said Kragar, “did you figure out they didn’t really want to hire you about the tagged coins?”
“It didn’t make sense from the beginning,” I said. “What’s the point of working to beat a system that will collapse on its own? He had to be setting me up for something. I suppose I wasn’t absolutely sure about it until I saw your report on him, and learned he hadn’t been a highwayman for a long time.”
“And how does this fit in with Byrna?”
“My guess is they went looking for someone who was in trouble with me. It shouldn’t be too hard to find if you’re willing to be friendly, spend money, and listen a lot in the right places.”
Cawti said, “You know, Vlad, we really need to be aware that, once they realize what you pulled, they will come after us again.”
I very much liked that “we” and “us.” I said, “Maybe. But I have a theory that getting me in hot water was secondary. The main thing they wanted was something else, and they’ll get that.”
Kragar knew what his job was: “What’s that?” he asked.
“The next order of business. Omlo, unless you have more questions, I won’t need you for this part. It’s just as well you don’t know about it.”
He stood and bowed. “You have my thanks, my lord.”
“I’ll see you on the stage,” I said.
He smiled and backed out, still bowing—like you do for royalty. Nice touch, I thought.
When he’d gone, Kragar said, “Well?”
“The last bit is firing H’noc.”
“For what?”
“For trying to have me beaten.”
Cawti nodded. Kragar frowned. “When did he do that?”
“A few days ago. I didn’t mention it because it didn’t work out for him.”
“How do you know it was him?”
“Because nothing else makes sense. Who else has a reason to attack me?”
“Everyone who knows you, Vlad. But what reason does he have?”
“Fox-boy got him to do it. I don’t know, a bribe or a threat. I’ll confirm it before I actually fire him.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He was the one who actually beat Neritha, so Fox-boy and Ibronka are going to want him to pay. What better way to make him pay than to have me do it for them?”
“Oh,” said Kragar. “And he could be that sure you’d figure it out?”
“Yeah. He studied me enough to know I’m not an idiot.”
“I guess I should study you more.”
“Heh.”
Cawti said, “Can I help with the firing?”
“Sure. You and Kragar can escort me there, and then hang around outside and make sure I’m not interrupted.”
“When are we doing this?” asked Kragar.
“Now,” I said, and stood up.
On the way over, Kragar said, “When you fire H’noc, who are you going to get to run the place?”
“You want it?”
“No.”
“Think Melestav will want it?”
“I doubt it.”
“Maybe Tessie.”
“He’d be good. Experienced.”
“Yeah.”
We reached the Couches and I walked in like I owned the place, partly on account of I did. The muscle at the door was someone I didn’t recognize, but he evidently recognized me. He bowed and said, “My lord, how may I—”
“H’noc,” I said. “Here. Now.” There were a couple of nums hanging around, drinking and waiting to pick out their tags. They looked at me. I didn’t much care.
He went off to get H’noc. I told the two nums that the business was closed for now, but they were welcome back tomorrow. I suggested that they leave right away. The Dragonlord looked like he might want to make an issue of it, but then he just shrugged and left. When they were gone, I moved to the back of the room and leaned against the wall, looking tough. H’noc arrived at once, flanked by the tough guy who’d been at the door, and another, taller and broader and equally dangerous-looking. I said, “You two: Go.”
They looked at H’noc for instructions. I said, “Don’t look at him, look at me. I’m saying to go away. Do it now.”
They hesitated. Then first one and then the other turned and walked away. H’noc said, “My lord, if I have somehow—”
“Let’s take a walk,” I said.
Cawti and Kragar were behind us as I led him around to an alley behind the Couches; then they pulled back out of sight. H’noc didn’t look altogether happy.
I drew and placed the point of my weapon under his chin. “You,” I said, “are fired. Depending on how you answer my question, you might also be dead. Do you want to be dead? I think you don’t want to be dead. If I’m wrong, tell me. Do you want to be dead?”
Ask someone a question with an obvious answer, and then insist he answer you. It’s kind of humiliating, because it drums home to the guy just what position he’s in. I know a few tricks like that, and I keep learning more.
H’noc said, “Ask your question.”
“How did he talk you into it?”
He looked even less happy than he had, but he glared instead of cowering. Good decision: if neither is going to do any good, you might as well take your best shot at not being laughed at.
I pressed a little with my rapier. His head went back and a bead of blood appeared and ran down his neck. I said, “I know you wouldn’t do it for money, not from a civilian. So what was it?”
“If I tell you, I get to live?”
“Yes.”
“All right. He said if I didn’t he’d shut me down.”
“Now, just how was he going to do that?”
“His mother is the Countess of Whitecrest.”
“He used his family influence? That’s cheating. Why didn’t you think to come to me with this problem?”
“My place, my problem.”
“My place,” I said. “Though right now I agree it’s your problem, too.”
He made a point of glancing down the length of my blade, then back up to meet my eyes. “Seems like,” he said.
“All right,” I said. “That’s all I need to know.”
“He said you wouldn’t find out. Ooops, I guess.”
“I guess.”
I’d told him that if he answered my question, he’d get to live. But, like I said, I lie sometimes.
WHITECREST
CHAPTER ONE
KHAAVREN
The Captain of the Phoenix Guard received a summons at the ninth hour of the morning on Midweek. The Empress, it seemed, wanted a private audience with him in her breakfast room. Such a meeting at such a time was not unprecedented, but neither was it usual, so when Khaavren found the message waiting, he knew something was up.
He took the long walk to Her Majesty’s apartments without speculating, or even wondering. He nodded to the guards on duty, and exchanged good-mornings with various acquaintances on the way, until he finally presented himself, and was admitted.
The Empress Zerika was dressed simply in her gold morning gown, which anyone but Khaavren would have at least admitted to himself was fetching, and she sat at her table nibbling at fruit and drinking tea. She nodded to Khaavren and gestured him to one of two chairs that had been set across from her. Khaavren knew that the Empress customarily breakfasted alone.
“Good morning, Captain. Tea?”
“Klava, if you have it.”
The Empress nodded to a servant, and the klava was presently brought. Khaavren drank it as poured, with a napkin wrapped about it to protect his fingers, and waited for Zerika to speak.
She ate another bite of fruit, sipped her tea, and carefully set the cup down. It was, Khaavren noticed, a tiny little cup, thin and fragile-looking, decorated with red and blue wavy lines. She said, “Forgive me, Captain, but we’re waiting for someone. I’d prefer not to have to repeat this.”
“Of course, Majesty.” He smiled. “I have klava.”
“Have some fruit as well, if you wish. And there’s some cheese and rolls.”
“I’m fine, Majesty.”
She nodded, and there was no further conversation for some minutes, until a servant announced the arrival of Kosadr. Khaavren kept his surprise to himself, nodded a greeting to the Court Wizard, and waited patiently while Kosadr accepted tea, cheese, and bread. The wizard ate slowly, carefully; Khaavren wanted very much to kick him. Studying Her Majesty, he had a suspicion that the Empress felt the same way.
Kosadr was lanky, dark, and not as young as he looked. He eventually seemed to realize he was holding things up, and said, “Please, Your Majesty, proceed.”
