Sethra Lavode

by Steven Brust

  He sat behind Tazendra's secretary, staring at the map of the Empire, and reflected for some time. After completing his reflections, he walked out of the now deserted castle (at least, he had seen no sign of the Teckla for some time), saddled and mounted his horse, and began riding west.

  Chapter

  the Seventy-Ninth

  how piro met someone who proved to be skilled at arithmetic, and grassfog discovered that he was something of a prophet

  Thirteen or fourteen months had passed after Khaavren spoke with his son: months that included great and sweeping changes in all of the cities, especially in Adrilankha, which changes gradually slowed down and diminished as one got further away from the great centers of commerce. In many ways, the nearly two years between Zerika's appearance with the Orb and the Battle of Adrilankha saw more changes more quickly than had ever occurred before, or ever would again.

  It could also be said that the changes produced by the end of the Interregnum (the term coming to be used for the period of history ended either by Zerika's emergence with the Orb or her arrival in Adrilankha) had effect in direct proportion to the effect of the Interregnum itself—in other words, if a certain area had only slowly and gradually felt the effects of Adron's Disaster, then it only slowly and gradually felt the effects of the return of the Empire.

  One of these regions where change was felt only slowly was, to be sure, Mistyvale County, where Piro, still under the name of the Blue Fox, inspired fear in the hearts of all travelers. To some extent, even in the short months to which we referred above, Grassfog's prediction had been proven correct:

  Some travelers, indeed, preferred to pay a sorcerer to teleport them from one place of safety to another. But for those who had goods to deliver—and with the kerosene refineries and the smelters beginning to work again, there were plenty of these—the cost of having goods teleported would have been prohibitive, and so, instead, they used the time-honored system of caravans, hoping that large numbers of merchants traveling together, along with mercenary soldiers in good numbers, would give them a measure of protection against road agents in general and the Blue Fox in particular.

  The caravan system met with some success, at least as far as Piro was concerned. While some of them were small enough to be taken, Piro had, regretfully, to let many of them pass by, as he did not choose to risk injury to his small band any more than was necessary.

  On the occasion of which we write, the size of the caravan was barely respectable, consisting of five small carts, covered in heavy canvas, and pulled by mule or pony, and the escort was only three warriors in front and an equal number in back, commanded by a tired-looking captain on a tired-looking horse. As the caravan came around a turning of the Great Southern Road (it had once been at least relatively great, and certainly ran through the southernmost part of Mistyvale County) Piro, looking through a particularly fine touch-it glass (ebony with gold embossing, a recent gift from Ibronka), remarked, "I believe we can take them easily enough. Grassfog and I to stop them, first group take the flank, second group in reserve from behind."

  "I have no quarrel with this plan," said Ibronka. "Come, let us act quickly before they reach a place where they can run, giving us that much more difficulty in chasing them down."

  "With this I agree. You will take the first group?"

  "Of course. And Kytraan the second?"

  "Naturally."

  "Then I will inform them."

  "Do, and send Grassfog to me. But first—"

  "Yes?"

  "I should like to kiss your hand."

  "Certainly. Here it is."

  "You are precious."

  "My brave bandit!"

  "Quickly now!"

  "I am already leaving."

  It took only minutes to arrange everything: by this time, the Blue Fox and his band were well versed in such games. Grassfog returned with the word that everything was ready, and everyone understood his instructions. Piro nodded, and together they stepped out onto the road. Piro held up his hand, and the captain of the escort, who was riding in front, drew rein and looked down, saying, "Well, gentlemen? Is there something you wish? I beg you to speak quickly, because we are in something of a hurry, wishing to reach Covered Springs before night falls."

  "Oh, I do not believe that will present any problem. In only a few more miles you will strike the road that runs directly to it; but I am certain you are already aware of your route."

  "Entirely."

  "Then all is well. It remains merely for us to transact our business, and you can be on your way."

  "Business? I do not understand what you do me the honor to say. What business have we to transact?"

  "Why, only that my friend and I," here Grassfog bowed elegantly, "are anxious to assist you by reducing your burden. That way your animals will not have so much weight to pull."

  "Reduce our burden? Well, and by what do you wish to reduce our burden?"

  "Well, let us see what you are carrying so that we may consider the matter."

  The horseman frowned. "You want to see what we are carrying in order to consider how to reduce our burden?"

  "You perceive, you have only repeated my statement, turning it into the form of a question."

  "Well, but it very nearly sounds as if you are proposing to rob us."

  "I admit it is something very like."

  "I do not wish to insult you by laughing—"

  "Ah, you are delicate. So much the better."

  "But there are two of you, and seven of us, and, moreover, I am mounted, and you are not."

  Piro, who had been closely following the other's arithmetic, nodded his agreement with these calculations and said, "I have no argument with what you say, only—"

  "Well?"

  "You may observe by looking behind you that, in fact, instead of two of us, there are five."

  The captain of the escort dutifully looked back, as Ibronka emerged from the woods, and, next to her, stood Iatha and Ritt.

  "Well, but you perceive, seven is still greater than five. And then, there is, in addition, the matter that, by spurring my horse forward, I could ride you down easily enough."

  "As to the second, sir," said Piro, "that is, without question, true. But you must perceive that, should you be so precipitate as to spur your horse at me, my friend here would be obliged to run his sword through your body." As he finished this speech, Grassfog coolly drew his sword, which was nearly as heavy as the one Ibronka carried, and held it in the relaxed grip of one who knew its length.

  "Well, that is true for the second, but what of the first?"

  "Oh, as to that, if you would look again, you will see that our numbers are, in fact, eight." As he spoke, Kytraan, Röaana, and Belly emerged, swords drawn, and positioned themselves behind the caravan.

  We should add that, during all of this, the merchants themselves had grown successively paler. As for the captain, he observed the new arrivals, and said, "Yes, the numbers do alter the case."

  "That is my opinion, sir; I am glad that we are in agreement."

  "Before we continue with our business—"

  "Then," interrupted Piro, "you agree we have business?"

  "Oh, certainly; you have convinced me completely."

  "Very well then. But forgive me; you were saying?"

  "Yes, before we continue with our business, will you permit me to put a question to you?"

  "That is only just," said Piro. "What, then, is this question?"

  "Are you not, in fact, the Blue Fox?"

  Piro bowed. "You have named me, sir."

  "And so, then, there is a reward, is there not, of a thousand imperials for your capture? And that, in case you should (may the Favor preserve us) be brought in dead, you are still worth five hundred imperials?" (The reader may observe that, in two years, the size of the reward has increased.)

  "Sir, permit me to observe that, with regards to numbers, you reckon like a true arithmetist."

  "Well, it is true that I have a
tolerably long head. And, is it not also the case that there is a reward of eight hundred imperials for each of your companions if you are brought in alive?"

  "Why, yes. And if these figures were all added together, why, it would be a good round number."

  "Thanks, my lord. That is my opinion as well."

  "But then, I hope you do not think of attempting to collect these funds?"

  "I fear, my friend, that this was exactly my thought."

  "I beg to observe that you will not be given this reward unless we are brought in."

  "Of this statistic I am already aware."

  "And that does not deter you?"

  "Not in the least."

  "You perceive, nothing good can come of such a rash intention."

  "You think not?"

  "Well, consider that we are all tolerably skillful players."

  "Oh, of that I have no doubt. I hope you will be equally generous with regard to us?"

  "Certainly, I have no doubt at all. But yet—"

  "Well?"

  "Eight against seven. Come, you must know that some of you will be killed if you make this effort. Is it worth it, just for a bit of gold?"

  "I think so. And then, I must dispute with your numbers."

  "How, my numbers are wrong?"

  "You have said I was something of an arithmetist."

  "That is true, I do not doubt your skills in this regard."

  "Very good. Then attend."

  "I am listening."

  "It is true that your number is eight."

  "Ah, I am glad of that, at least, because it proves that I am not given over to illusion."

  "Oh, there is no question of that."

  "And then?"

  "It is in regard to our numbers that your estimate may be incorrect."

  "Well, let us see then."

  "Yes, we will count carefully, so that there can be no mistake."

  "Very well, we will begin with you, as you are in command. That is one."

  "One, yes. Go on."

  "Then there are three who are directly behind you, and who are even now exchanging grimaces with my three friends."

  "You are right again, which makes—?"

  "Four."

  "I agree. Four. Go on."

  "There are another three in the back, who are facing three of my friends, all of whom have drawn weapons, and they but await the word to begin what promises to be a frightful—and, I should add, unnecessary—slaughter."

  "So then?"

  "Well, that makes seven."

  "That is true."

  "And so?"

  "But then, you have not counted the carts."

  "The carts?"

  "Yes. The five carts."

  "Well, but what about them?"

  "Why, each cart has room for two soldiers."

  "Oh, I agree that each has the room, but does each have the soldiers?"

  "Certainly. Why else should they be covered? Gentlemen!" he called. "If you please, it is time."

  The covers on the carts were thrown back, and, indeed, each cart held a pair of warriors, each of whom now stood up, leapt to the ground, drew, and placed himself on his guard.

  "Now then," continued the officer. "If my reckoning is correct, twice five is ten."

  "It is," said Piro, who was endeavoring to overcome his astonishment at the contents of carts which he had assumed carried only goods to be traded.

  "Well, and ten and seven is, let us see, seventeen, is it not?"

  "Oh, I have already said that I cannot dispute with you as to figures."

  "So then, it appears, our numbers are seventeen to eight, and—"

  "Yes, and?"

  "Then there are those who appear to be merchants."

  "Ah, you say, 'appear to be.'"

  "Well, yes."

  "So then, they are not in fact?"

  "Not in the least."

  As he said this, the five supposed merchants pushed aside their robes, revealing that each had a sword, which he now drew in good style.

  "So then," continued the captain, who, we should add, no longer appeared to be as tired as he had, any more than the "merchants" appeared to be pale, "seventeen and five is twenty-two, is it not?"

  "You calculate soldiers the way a merchant counts coins—that is to say, without a flaw."

  "So then, it seems we have twenty-two against your eight, and so—"

  "Yes, and so?"

  "It only remains for me to beg you to surrender."

  "Oh!"

  "Well?"

  "That word! 'Surrender'!"

  "Is it not a perfectly good word?"

  "I confess, I do not like how it sounds in my ears."

  "And yet, consider that, to resist, well, I believe you, yourself, used the word 'slaughter.'"

  "That is true."

  "And so?"

  "Will you permit me to put to you a question?"

  "It seems to me that you were sufficiently complaisant to permit a question from me; how can I do any less? What, then, is this famous question?"

  "Did you, in fact, set out to-day with the intention of setting a trap for me?"

  "How, you don't know?"

  "Oh, I suspect; nevertheless, I should like to hear if my suspicion is correct."

  "Sir Blue Fox, you must know that you are not popular among the merchants."

  "Well," said Piro, shrugging.

  "To answer your question, yes. We set out to-day to capture you."

  "I am honored."

  "I am glad you take it that way, sir."

  "How else?"

  "Some might disdain us for our choice of industry."

  "Perhaps, but I would not be one to do so. You are procuring your bread with your sword arm, as soldiers have always done, and, moreover, as we do ourselves."

  "You are very gracious, sir."

  "It is nothing. Only—"

  "Well?"

  "It is a shame that, from time to time, such gentlemen as ourselves must cross swords. But then, if we did not, why, what reason would we have to exist?"

  "Do you truly mean to resist?"

  "Cha! Can you doubt it?"

  "But, what of your friends?"

  "Well, if you will give me a moment, I will ask them."

  "Take as much time as you need; the day is young, and contrary to an earlier remark I may have made, we have nowhere we need to be."

  "You are very kind. Well, my friends? Do any of you wish to surrender?"

  This produced an immediate, emphatic, and unanimous denial, followed by Ibronka saying, "My dear Blue Fox, are we to begin the dance soon? I am beginning to feel a certain ennui."

  Piro returned his attention to the captain and shrugged. "You see how it is?"

  "Then, there is nothing that remains but to play it out."

  "One thing first, sir."

  "And that is?"

  "I believe that, in an instant, I am going to do my very best to pass my sword through your body; I anticipate you attempting to be just as polite with regard to me. Therefore, I should very much like to know your name."

  "That is only just, but—"

  "Well?"

  "I only know you as the Blue Fox, which I am certain is not your real name."

  "So then?"

  "If you give me your actual name, well, then I shall give you mine."

  "But consider, sir, that, as I live outside the law, well, I have good reason for not wishing my name to be known."

  "Oh, I do not dispute your reasons."

  "So that, if I were to tell you my name, it would follow that I would have to kill you in order to keep my secret."

  "That is but natural."

  "You are sanguine about this?"

  "Perfectly."

  "Very well, then." And dropping his voice, he said, "I am called Piro, the Viscount of Adrilankha."

  The other bowed and said, "I am Noarwa e'Tennith."

  "Honored."

  "The same."

  "Would you prefer to give the charge
, or receive it?"

  "Oh, on that subject, I am utterly indifferent."

  "Very well then," said Piro, at last drawing his sword, "we are about to have the honor of charging you."

  "Very well."

  "Charge!" cried Piro, and lunged up at the one called Noarwa. The Dragonlord parried the attack, using his knees to direct his horse to the side; but that is exactly where Grassfog was, and the latter, also striking upward, caught Noarwa with a thrust that entered under his rib cage and penetrated very nearly as far as his right shoulder. It is probable that this would have killed him in any case, but Piro, wishing to take no chances with his identity, made certain by severing the Dragonlord's throat as he slid off his horse.

  Ibronka took the word "charge" in its most literal sense, and, wielding her longsword in both hands, she stepped forward, striking down from right to left; then, without ever stopping the motion, from left to right, after which she took another step forward and executed a two-handed lunge. The most likely explanation for the results of the first instant of battle is that the warriors had not truly expected to receive a charge; or, if they had, they had not considered that it would occur so quickly. But the fact remains that Ibronka's first three strokes had removed three of them from combat, one with a slash across his chest and stomach, a second who was missing her sword hand, and a third who had received two feet of steel fully in her chest. Before the others around these three had quite recovered, Ritt and Iatha were next to Ibronka, and furiously dueling—indeed, so furiously that Iatha gave one a cut on his wrist that caused him to drop his weapon from a nerveless hand.

  Kytraan, notwithstanding the order to charge, had something of a grasp of tactics in such combat, and so he quickly arranged his small force—that is, himself, Röaana, and Belly—in a sort of triangle facing out, where they endeavored to keep their blades moving continually to avoid any injury to any of them, while simultaneously looking for any openings their enemies might give them. This method was so effective that, although they did not inflict any wounds, neither did they receive any, although they were, in point of fact, holding off nine opponents.