by Steven Brust
So, then, as we look, the instant after the Easterner has thrown his knife, we see two of the Issola being chased about the room by jhereg, in a scene reminiscent of some of the lower-class bawdies available for four coppers on Verendu Lane. With one of the Issola concerned—quite reasonably in the opinion of this historian—with the knife that had penetrated a full three inches into his chest, this left five Issola who were charging Count Szurke.
Or so they thought. In fact, they were facing not only Szurke, but also Khaavren, who, drawing his sword, placed himself in a guard position beside the Easterner.
Khaavren, as was his custom on such occasions, feinted toward one long enough to interfere with her attack, so that he could concentrate on the other. This opponent was an exceptionally tall woman who wielded an especially long sword to add to this advantage. Khaavren, therefore, took a step forward as he parried her attack, after which he disengaged with lightning speed and, still moving in, passed his sword through her body, leaving her stretched out full length upon the floor.
Meanwhile, the Easterner had taken a peculiar stance in which only his side appeared as a target. He emerged with another small throwing knife, though exactly where on his person it had been concealed was impossible to say, and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it underhanded in the direction of one of his enemies. Although the weapon had been thrown too weakly to do any damage, and even failed to arrive at its target point-first, it nevertheless caused him to duck, which permitted Szurke to address himself to his other opponents. He took a step backward, then, much as Khaavren had, feinted toward one while in fact concentrating on the other. This man was in the process of making a lunge at the Easterner’s body—a lunge that would have had murderous effect if Szurke had remained where he was; however, not wishing to feel several inches of steel enter his vitals, he stepped lightly and quickly to the side, after which he delivered three very fast cuts with his thin blade to his opponent’s sword arm, with the result that the Issola’s weapon fell from his nerveless hand.
The three remaining Issola recovered their guard positions, as, in fact, did Khaavren. The two jhereg, as if by command, returned to the Easterner’s shoulders; the Issola they had been chasing took positions next to their comrades, also in guard positions. Szurke, for his part, not only did not assume a guard position, but, on the contrary, ignored his opponents entirely. Instead, he coolly turned toward the stage, bowed, and said, “My apologies for the delay in the beginning of your performance. I give you my word, I look forward to hearing your music once this little matter is disposed of.”
No one spoke. In fact, there was no sound at all, save soft, constant cursing from the Issola whose arm and hand the Easterner had cut and the moans from the one Khaavren had wounded.
Khaavren, never removing his eyes from his opponents, said, “My dear Count, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Well,” said the Easterner.
“You left so quickly before, that I feared the hospitality displeased you.”
“In fact,” said the other, “the klava left something to be desired.”
“Indeed? I am concerned to hear it.”
“It tasted as if it had been made with hot coffee, when, of course, the coffee must be made cold, then heated, then run through the filter.”
“I had not been aware of this circumstance,” said Khaavren. “And I thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
“You are welcome,” said Szurke laconically. “My lord Captain—or should I say brigadier?”
“Captain,” said Khaavren.
“Very good, then. My lord Captain, what should we do with these, ah, miscreants?”
“Miscreants?” said Khaavren.
“Brawlers in public places.”
Khaavren chuckled. “I admit, the notion of arresting them on this charge appeals to my humor. It is less humorous, but more reasonable, to arrest them on a charge of attacking an officer of the Phoenix Guard; a charge, by the way, for which the punishment is death. However—” He paused here and looked at the four Issola who remained in guard position, weapons out. To judge by the expression on their countenances, the statistic recited by Khaavren had no effect on them whatsoever. “However,” he continued, “for now, I should prefer to understand something of what this is all about.” He paused, turned his head toward the stage, and said, “Lady Saruchka, might I trouble you to step forward?”
Now, the reader must understand that Lady Saruchka was not only an Issola, but, moreover, a performer; hence it should come as no surprise to the reader that her reply, when it came, was delivered in a calm, even voice with no hint of agitation. “I will do so, my lord, but I should prefer to have a sword in my hand. Alas, I left mine in the pacing room.”
“But, my lady, if you had the sword, upon whom would you turn it?”
“Why, upon them, my lord. That is to say, my mother’s brother, his son, his daughter, and her husband.”
“As I had suspected,” murmured Khaavren.
The Easterner, who was close enough to Khaavren to hear, said, “As I had suspected you suspected.”
“Well,” said Khaavren. “Would you care to explain matters to me?”
“It is not my place to do so. Perhaps Lady Saruchka would, if you asked.”
The bard, hearing this, said, “Do you think I should, Vlad?”
“If you wish, Sara. It is entirely your decision.”
“Perhaps I will, then.”
As she finished speaking, she had placed herself next to Khaavren, and, holding her reed-pipe as if it were a weapon, she stared at the five Issola. “Or,” she added, “you could ask them. Hearing their opinion cannot fail to be amusing.”
Khaavren shrugged and, addressing the Issola whose arm had been wounded, said, “Would you care to offer an explanation?”
The Issola, who was ignoring the blood that continued to fall from his arm, said coolly, “My lord, what is it you wish to know?”
“In the first place, your name.”
“I am Dury.”
“Thank you, Lord Dury. Now, if you would be so kind as to explain, why did you attack this Easterner?”
“Why, what else could we do when he has dishonored our House and our family? You perceive, my lord, one cannot challenge an Easterner to a duel.”
“Oh, I understand that well enough.”
As this exchange took place, Khaavren observed a glance exchanged between the Easterner and the bard.
Khaavren cleared his throat. “Please forgive the brusqueness of an old soldier,” he said. “But I will to be clear about this. The Easterner and the bard are lovers, are they not?”
“Yes,” said Dury, at the same time the Easterner and the bard said, “No.”
“But,” added Szurke, “I would very much like to be.”
“And I,” added Saruchka, “am very nearly ready to consider it, out of annoyance if for no other reason.”
“How, you are not?” said Dury.
“I answered the captain, my lord uncle,” said Saruchka. “Had you asked, I would have declined to answer. With this in mind, I am certain you can understand my reluctance to give reassurances.”
“And yet,” said Dury, on whose face a certain degree of consternation was now visible, “it has seemed to me that the two of you have been seen together, and have met secretly, and—”
“Good my lord uncle,” said Saruchka, “if our meetings were secret, well, then we did not want them known. If we did not want them known, what would make you think I will now explain them?”
“For my part,” said Szurke, “I would be curious to hear the explanation from our brave captain.”
“From me?” said Khaavren.
“Why not?”
“You believe I arrived already understanding the circumstances that led us all here?”
“You pretend you do not?” asked the Easterner with a smile.
“Well, perhaps I have certain guesses.”
“I would admire to hear them.”
“Shall I tell you, then?”
“If you would. You perceive, we are all listening.”
“Then, if you insist—”
“To be sure, I do.”
“—I will explain.”
“Well?”
“This is it, then: The Lady Saruchka, who had already earned the ire of her family by playing social music, gave the appearance of having—how may I say this? ‘Taken up’ is I believe the expression, with an Easterner. That, in the event, they were wrong did not stop them from attempting to deliver a beating to the upstart Easterner. The Easterner, unaware of the reason behind the attack, or, indeed, the nature of it, assumed his life was in danger and reacted accordingly. This led to the death of—who, exactly?”
“My brother, Amlun,” said Dury.
“Amlun is dead?” said the bard.
“Yes,” said Dury.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” said Saruchka. “Vlad, that wasn’t nice.”
“Sorry,” said the Easterner.
“What remains to be answered,” said Khaavren, “is, if you two were not romantically involved, just what were you doing together?”
“That is a good question,” agreed Szurke.
“I’m glad you think so,” said Khaavren.
“Another good question is, whatever became of the mysterious artifact called the silver tiassa?”
“What is that?” asked Dury.
“I had expected that you wouldn’t know,” said Khaavren.
“Well, I am pleased to meet your expectations, but what is it?”
“No, no,” said Khaavren. “It is not for you to ask questions. It is for you to answer them, at least until I have decided what to do with you.”
“It is up to you, of course, but may I suggest that finding us a physicker might not be unreasonable?”
“Cha,” said Khaavren. “None of you are hurt badly.”
“As you say,” said Dury.
Khaavren, then, turned to Lady Saruchka and said, “What is your opinion, my lady? Should I arrest them?”
She laughed. “Aside from the amusement value, no. I imagine they are sufficiently chastised by having been defeated, twice, by an Easterner.”
Dury kept his eyes facing straight ahead, and made no response; but it is undeniable that his face reddened somewhat.
“Very well, my lady. I will do as you say. Naturally, the Empire has no interest in matters within your family, or between you and your House.”
“I am pleased to hear it, my lord Captain.”
Khaavren then turned to Dury, bowed, and said, “You may go.”
For an instant, the Issola looked as if he might say something; then it looked as if he wished to do something; but in the end he simply made a deep courtesy and, enlisting the help of the others, assisted the wounded out the door.
When they had left, Khaavren turned toward Saruchka and said, “Now, then. Will you tell me of the silver tiassa?”
“I confess myself astonished, Captain, that you know so much of what has transpired, and yet have no guess about this artifact for which you have been looking for so long.”
“But, how do you know we’ve been looking for it?”
“Vlad told me.”
Khaavren turned his eyes to the Easterner, who said, “I could not imagine the Empire being so concerned about the health of one poor Easterner—Imperial title or none—as to devote this much effort to the search.”
“And you reached this conclusion when, my lord?”
“When the concert was announced. It was obvious that it was only scheduled in order to bring us all together.”
“And yet, you came anyway?”
“You perceive, Captain, that I am hardly going to pass up an opportunity to see Sara.”
“Indeed? Then, the Lord Dury was not entirely wrong.”
“Oh, he was perfectly right, if my wishes were the only consideration. But perfectly wrong when Lady Saruchka’s wishes are taken into account.”
“That is not necessarily true, Lord Taltos,” said Sara with a smirk.
The Easterner coughed, and appeared to be uncertain about where he was looking. One of the jhereg on his shoulders began to bob its head up and down furiously, almost as if it were laughing. Khaavren, other than a certain disgust at what was being implied, had little interest in the matter. He said, “In any case, it was not dalliance that brought the two of you together two months ago, nor that caused the lady to retrieve your sword—which sword, I perceive, she has returned to you.”
“She was kind enough to do so,” said the Easterner, who appeared to have recovered somewhat, although his face was now as red as Dury’s had been.
“So then,” said Khaavren. “The questions remain—what is the nature of the association between you, and where is the silver tiassa?”
“As to the last,” said Saruchka, “I can tell you that it is where it is needed.”
“The answer,” said Khaavren, “is not satisfactory.”
“I am concerned to hear it,” said Saruchka.
“As am I,” said Szurke.
“You must understand,” said Khaavren, in whom a certain heat was beginning to rise, “that the Empire has invested no small amount of time and effort in this matter.”
“Why?” said the Easterner.
“What do you ask me?”
“Why? What is the importance or significance of this object to the Empire?”
“As to that—”
“Well?”
“It is not my place to say.”
“That is right,” said Szurke. “Only—”
“Yes?”
“Then it is not my place to answer your questions.”
“I understand, my lord. But if you do not—”
“Yes, if I do not?”
“I shall be forced to continue my inquiries.”
“Well.”
“And it is not impossible that these inquiries will involve finding you in order to ask you more questions.”
“Well.”
“And if I must hunt you, I can make no guarantee that others who might be looking for you will not also discover where you are.”
“Ah. I see.” A smile tugged at the corners of the Easterner’s mouth. “You make a strong argument, Captain.”
“And then?”
“You seem determined to discover what was behind all of this.”
“And if I am?”
“It seems odd.”
“And why would it seem odd?”
“Because you already know.”
“You think so?”
“I am convinced of it.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Because you are brigadier of the Special Tasks group.”
“And if I am?”
“You could not have become involved in this without investigating me. I make no doubt that you know nearly as much about me as the Jhereg.”
“I do not deny what you say.”
“Ensign Timmer works for you.”
“And if she does?”
“She would have told you what she knows as well. With all of this information, and with a mind like yours, you cannot have failed to discover the answer.”
“That is possible,” said Khaavren. “Nevertheless, I would prefer to hear it from you.”
“If you wish,” said Szurke. “The boy has it.”
Khaavren nodded. “As I had thought.”
“So then, what will you tell Her Majesty?”
“Yes. I am considering that very question. Tell me, do you know what it does?”
“I do not actually know, my lord. I have suspicions.”
“And those are?”
“My lord, to be inspired, well, that is to find the moment when the conscious mind comes together with parts that are unconscious. Is that not true?”
“You speak in generalities.”
“And if I do?”
“I prefer specifics.”
The Easterner shook his head. “I�
��ve already said enough. Too much.”
“You’re afraid I’ll attempt to take it?”
“If Her Majesty orders you—”
“I doubt she would do that.”
“In any case, I have said all I intend to say on the subject.”
Khaavren bowed slightly to signify that he understood. “Then I have no more business here,” he said.
“Then I will bid you farewell, Captain, for I do have business here.”
“Ah, have you?”
“Indeed. I am going to listen to music.”
With that, Szurke sat down in the nearest chair. Lady Saruchka, smiling at him, turned and stepped back onto the stage, where the other musicians had been waiting patiently as unimportant matters such as life and death were settled.
Khaavren turned his back on the Easterner and the bard and took himself back onto the streets of Adrilankha, where his duty lay.
Epilogue
We met outdoors, beneath a low grass-covered hill. There were a few pillartrees here and there around us, but mostly we were in the open. We sat on the grass and said our various hellos in our various ways.
“How are you feeling?” said Sara.
“I don’t know,” said the boy. “Better, I think.”
“You’re sounding better,” I said. “A lot better. Do you still have dreams?”
He nodded. “Not as often, though.” He looked down at the object in his hand. “How does it work?”
“I don’t exactly know,” I said. “A god made it, that’s all I can tell you.”
“I don’t either,” said Sara. “I’m curious, though. Maybe when you don’t need it anymore, I’ll borrow it for a while and see what I can figure out.”
I shrugged. “For now, if it helps—”
“Someone’s coming, Boss. A rider, just behind the hill.”
I stood up. My hand went to Lady Teldra’s hilt, but I didn’t draw.
“What is it, Vlad?” Sara was standing, too, her hand on her weapon.
“I don’t know.”
“Just one? No effort at concealment?”
“Just one. Colors of the Tiassa. Oh, it’s—”
“Of course it is. I should have guessed.”
“Oh,” said Sara, as he appeared over the top of the hill. “I should have guessed.”
Lord Khaavren dismounted when he reached us, wrapped the reins around his hand, and bowed.
