by Steven Brust
“Uh, sorry. Did you ask me something? I drifted off there for a bit.”
The Demon shrugged. “He’s speaking for himself. Me, I’ve always liked you, Taltos. But business is business.”
Yes, it is. To a Jhereg or an Orca. They were thinking like Orca, which happens a lot. If this worked, it meant they were also seeing things like a Hawk.
Because that’s the thing about Hawks. They can spot a norska from miles away, but the guy holding the snare never enters into their calculation. With a Hawk, it’s never about what they see, it’s about what they don’t see.
Meanwhile, I think if Poletra had clenched his jaw any harder, it would have broken. “We can find out what you’re planning. We can hurt you. We can hurt you in ways you haven’t had nightmares about.”
“I don’t know. I have some awfully vivid nightmares. When we’re done, I’ll tell you how you did.”
“Bring him,” he said.
I’d like to tell you that it was cold calculation to get him to do what I needed him to do, but that’d be crap. I didn’t need him to do anything. If he’d walked away, I’d have been fine with that, and Loiosh and I would have had many delightful conversations about whether it was all the preparation that produced the result of not needing it, or it was all a big waste. No, I’d just been needling him because he’d pissed me off.
But he’d have done it anyway. So, as old Napper used to say, don’t matter.
Yeah, old Napper. A good guy. Until they stuck a Morganti blade into him.
Verra.
No more time for doubt, no more room for screw-ups, no more attention for self-pity. And I know that somewhere, deep down, I was loving this. Loving it, and hating it, and, above all, doing it. As they tightened their grip on me, I relaxed my legs, so they were carrying all my weight. I couldn’t reach Lady Teldra, and I couldn’t drive my elbows into into their guts.
But I didn’t have to.
They had me gripped so I couldn’t get away, their thumbs carefully placed on the back of my arms, fingers in the direction they didn’t want me to go. I straightened my legs and drove toward them, pushing against their thumbs with my arms, and for just a second I was free of them.
I threw myself between them and into the window behind me.
It came loose like it wasn’t even attached—which it wasn’t—and I went through it. I landed on my right shoulder, which I didn’t like, and I had the wind knocked out of me. My momentum from the jump carried me over the cliff.
It was a long way down. I felt like I had a lot of time. I’m sure I didn’t, really, but it seemed like I did. As I went down I was turning head over heels, but I can’t tell you anything about what I saw. All I recall are flashes of color—gray for the rocks, green for the water, orange-red for the sky. Or maybe my imagination is filling in for what my memory won’t tell me. I don’t know. I fell. I do remember thinking that if I hadn’t had the chains on, I would have been able to use the cleverly designed cloak to slow myself down and, with luck, made sure I landed in a good position.
“Boss?”
“So far, so good.”
Then I hit.
Water is much harder than you think it ought to be. I mean, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as landing on solid rock, but I’ve landed on solid rock after a long fall, and I sure couldn’t feel any difference. I didn’t lose consciousness; but I wasn’t quite all there as I submerged, either. And, what with the chains and all the other hardware I was carrying, I went down fast.
Breathing was an issue. I didn’t have the amulet on, and spells for breathing underwater are pretty easy. The trouble is, using sorcery then and there felt like calling more attention to myself than I wanted to. It was going to take them a little while to find me, and I needed all of that time. But, in my befuddled state, what is more significant is that it was impossible to get my mind clear and focused enough for sorcery. To blow myself up right then trying to do a water-breathing spell would have made me feel ridiculous.
Besides, that isn’t what I’d planned for, and now was very much not the time to start second-guessing myself. I went ahead with the plan.
I’d like to tell you that it took me five seconds to get out of the chains, but I’m just not that good. Even with Kiera’s lockpick, which I’d been carrying under my collar, it took me the better part of a minute. I had to hunch over to reach them.
And that water was cold, by the way. Very cold. I know that just a little east of that spot is a place where Easterners like to swim on hot days. All I can say is, they’re made of sterner stuff than I am. In any case, the chains were gone, my lungs were bursting, and something in me said, “Wasn’t I just in this position?” But this time, at least, I didn’t have to cut my own throat. I pulled off my rapier sheath, removed the rapier, stuck one of the sheath ends in my mouth, and blew into it as I raised the other end over the surface. I just happened to know how deep the water was in this spot, having recently questioned a kid who had gotten an anchor for me.
You should know that that first good lungful of air is just as good when you haven’t just cut your throat. I mean, in case you’re ever in that position.
Problem solved.
Well, that problem solved. There was still the matter of being a few feet underwater with some killers after me.
“Boss?”
“How are things up there?”
“Warm and dry, Boss. There?”
I should have expected that. “Loiosh, what’s the sit—”
“They’re standing looking over the cliff talking about what sort of locate spell to do.”
“All right. Taking their time, are they?”
“They’ve put a teleport block around the area.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“No, a new one. Tighter.”
“All right. You stay out of the way. They have something planned for killing you and Rocza, and that’s a worry I don’t need right now.”
“Got it, Boss. Is it time?”
“Almost.”
“All right. I’m ready.”
I replaced the lockpick under my collar, letting the torsion wrench fall because who cares.
I was at the bottom of the ocean-sea, breathing through a specially designed sword sheath. I’d been carrying it around for years, wondering if it would ever be useful, and here it was. So I was under water, knowing they’d find me soon, with a teleport block in place, and no way to effectively avoid a locating spell.
No problem.
I still had that psychic force buzzing around my skull—diminishing, but not gone. And I had at least a little time before they fished me out of the water, so I might as well do something useful. I couldn’t break the spell on the cord holding Lady Teldra to her sheath, and I couldn’t untie the knot (ever tried untying a wet knot under very cold water?). But I could manage to send my thoughts through the knot, tracing each turn; and once I’d done that, it was a simple matter to loosen it, loosen it more, and then let it fall off.
She came into my hand and I stood up and stepped toward shore, water dripping from my hair.
“Okay, Loiosh. Now.”
“On it, Boss.”
I tossed the rapier sheath aside and climbed out of the water. Lady Teldra was in the form I’d first seen her—an exceptionally long knife, narrow, straight blade, and only the smallest crossguard. And, of course, the tiny gold links that made up her hilt. I re-sheathed her for the moment. I took off my cloak and tossed it aside, because it was wet and very heavy. The harness around my shoulders was now revealed, with various pieces of cutlery hanging from it. Under the circumstances, that was all to the good.
How to get up the cliff? Well, as it happened, there was, just thirty or thirty-five feet away, a set of steps just recently hammered into the stone of the cliff. By recently, I mean yesterday. Steps and handholds, like a ladder built into the rock. Isn’t that a lucky break?
It took me maybe a minute to climb it.
Why, you ask, didn’t they see me?
I could feel the counterspells working on the fog, and I figured I didn’t have long before they managed to get rid of it. Well, fine, then. I opened the little box, withdrew the amulet, and slipped it around my neck. I could no longer sense the magic. Right around then, the fog dissipated, and there were the Jhereg. Three bosses, three sorcerers, and ten hired thugs.
And there was me, more or less in the middle of them, holding Lady Teldra, who had changed shape, and now resembled a rapier, light and useful in my hand. I felt bad for the hired thugs. I used to be one myself.
Loiosh and Rocza came and landed on my shoulders, looking at those surrounding me, and hissing. In direct violation of my orders. Shows you how useful orders are, doesn’t it?
But, all right.
Now, I just needed to survive.
I made tiny circles with Lady Teldra, while I also turned, so everyone knew exactly what he was facing.
“Well,” I said. “All right, then. Who wants to start the party?”
“You aren’t getting out of here alive,” said Poletra.
“No? Well, who wants to go first, then?”
“Nicely done,” said the Demon. “But even if you escape us now, this only puts you back where you were.”
“Are you making me another offer, my lord?”
“Yes,” he said. “Let us end this. We won’t use the Morganti blade. We’ll—”
“No!” said Poletra. “I want to see this—”
“It’s business, not personal,” said the Demon, with something of snap in his voice.
I said, “Hey, if the two of you want to have this out, I can come back later. Should I make an app—”
Then came a new voice into the mix. “Count Szurke?” and my knees almost turned to water; not from fear, from relief. It came over me in waves and torrents and it took more than just a little effort to keep my voice even when I replied.
“Yes,” I managed. “That’s me.”
17
MAKING ENEMIES OR MAKING A STAND
“Boss. The weapon.”
“Oh, right.” I quickly sheathed Lady Teldra—no point in rubbing his nose in it, after all.
“I am Khaavren, Captain of the Imperial Guard, and I must ask you all to surrender your weapons.”
Diyann, the silent one, took a step toward him. Khaavren seemed to have about thirty guardsmen with him, and they were spreading out in a nice circle. Diyann said, “I have no weapons. May I ask what this concerns?”
I cleared my throat. “I can answer that,” I said.
I had everyone’s attention again.
The Demon said, “Taltos. Well. What?”
I recited from memory, “‘Whosoever shall, for monetary gain, or the equivalent in station, merchandise, or other considerations, put at risk Imperial security through the use of such arts or techniques as described in parts two or three above, shall be subject to any or all of the punishments described in section nine below.’ Let me skip to paragraph six of section nine below, because being stripped of your House titles doesn’t matter much, and what’s a few lashes? Here’s the good part. ‘The forfeiture of all monies, properties, wealth, and other interests. This to be extended to family and other associates as deemed appropriate by the Imperial Justicers.’”
I smiled. “That should cover it,” I said. “As you can guess, ‘part three above’ is rather complex, but what you were just trying to do—eavesdrop on psychic communication—”
“It had nothing to do with Imperial security!” said Poletra.
I shrugged. “If you can convince the Justicers of that, why, I’m sure there will be no problem.”
Poletra said, “But you—”
“I?”
“You taught it to us!”
“Oh? Did I receive gold for this service? Or anything else? In fact, it would seem that I got no benefit at all, however you want to calculate it.”
“No, you received—” He broke off, his face—none too pretty at the best of times—twisting up. Even if he were willing to say, in front the Imperial Guard, that they’d been planning to kill me, it wouldn’t have helped him. Because I had received nothing. No consideration, no benefit. Because they had betrayed me.
The Demon looked like he was trying to fight off a smile. “All right,” he said. “I can see half your play. Any and all wealth and property, and the right to keep digging until they’ve found everything, and then they take more. So, there’s the rind. What’s the fruit?”
I nodded to him. He really did know me. I turned to Khaavren and held out my signet ring. “My lord Captain,” I said. “I present to you my identification as Imperial Count of Szurke. I hereby invoke my right to defer justice. I would, therefore, request and require that this arrest be temporarily suspended.”
“You have that right, my lord,” agreed Khaavren, keeping his face straight. “Suspended for how long?”
“Until my death or extended disappearance,” I said.
“As you wish, my lord,” said Khaavren. “But I must secure the identities of all of these—persons—so that, in the event of your death, we’ll know where to look.”
“Of course,” I said. “Take your time.”
Poletra glared and ground his teeth and vowed under his breath to do things to me that he knew very well he couldn’t do. The Demon almost laughed aloud, and said, “Well played, Taltos.” Diyann simply nodded. That guy was really scary. I think if I’d first gone to him instead of the Demon, this wouldn’t have worked out so well for me.
But no point in dwelling on that.
“Will there be anything else, Count Szurke?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you, Captain.”
The other Jhereg—the sorcerers and the thugs—were just sort of milling about, not sure of what they should be doing. I walked out past them, keeping my eyes forward, because if I’d caught anyone’s eyes I’d have been gloating, and I don’t like to do that.
I started back toward the road, which, once more, took me past the cliff. I went back into the room and picked up Sara’s euphonium. I looked it over, and shook my head at the little ding in the side and the egg on the valves. I’d have to apologize to her. With luck, when she heard the whole story she wouldn’t be too upset. I also grabbed Daymar’s wand.
I looked around the room, feeling, I admit it, a little smug.
“Boss, you did it!”
“Seems like.”
I put the euphonium in its case, slung the case over my shoulder, and walked back outside. It was just starting to get dark, but I could still see the path that took me next to the cliff. I stepped onto it, once more overlooking the cliff. The Jhereg and the guards were gone.
So that’s when they hit me.
This time, it wasn’t Loiosh who let me know; I felt it myself. It was elegant, subtle, precise, deadly, and useless. From what I could figure, the attacker was a powerful sorcerer who knew I’d taken off my amulet, but didn’t know I had put it back on again. I know that I felt the attack as a sharp point aimed at my head. The field produced by the amulet is so effective that when I’m any distance from the Orb, even that doesn’t penetrate; so an attack so strong I knew it was happening meant I was up against someone who was very, very good.
I shouldn’t complain—the first total idiot they send after me will probably be the one to get the job done.
“Boss? Was that—”
“Yeah. Can you tell where it came from?”
“Sorry, it was too brief.”
Well, okay. It had to be someone nearby. That meant one of the three sorcerers who’d been at the meeting. If I could find out who, I could maybe do something.
At which point I realized how ironic it was. If I could find the sorcerer, I could use the recently proven technique to listen in on the sorcerer reporting back, and learn who was behind
it. Only I no longer had the hawk’s egg, and if I removed the amulet, I’d be very quickly dead.
In the meantime, my only movement was ten or so steps away from the cliff. The sorcerer had to know the attack had failed, so what would the next step be? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to make it easy to build up a wind strong enough to sweep me over the cliff. Just because I’d survived a fall into the water didn’t mean I cared to repeat the experience.
I shivered. I’d been too busy until now to realize that I was soaking wet, and cold. I hoped I wouldn’t pick up the lung-squeeze, because it seemed I wouldn’t be able to remove the amulet to have it cured, and that would be an awfully stupid way to die.
I kept thinking of stupid ways to die, as if, short of old age, there are any smart ways.
What would come next? I was also wondering where I’d miscalculated; why I was being attacked right when I figured I was all done with that. But I didn’t have a lot of attention to spare to working that out, and the implications of it being a sorcerous attack, or anything else. What would come next?
“Loiosh, see if you or Rocza can spot someone nearby who might be doing this.”
He didn’t reply, but they left my shoulders.
I drew Lady Teldra.
Lady, I don’t know what sort of sorcerous skill you have, but if you can manage to find out where that attack came from, it would be pretty damned helpful right now.
Nothing.
Wait. Was my attention being drawn in a direction, or was I imagining it?
“Loiosh, check off to the right, in the direction of those trees.”
Yes, I became convinced of it. The communication was strange, and not in language, but there was communication, and if I’d had time, I would have been pleased about that; maybe I’d even have smiled.
I started walking toward the spell. I tried to get a feel for how far it away it was, but I couldn’t get that. I kept walking, and I became aware that I was really, really angry. Angry enough to be stupid. Maybe angry at myself for whatever miscalculation I’d made so that after all of this, I was still a target. I don’t know. But I was angry, and if there was any way to do it, someone was going to be very sad.
