by Steven Brust
“Shut up.”
I did so, and waited.
She looked past me; I gave her time to think.
“It isn’t easy,” she said. “My loyalties are divided. I don’t think there are any right answers.”
I nodded.
“All right. I’ll tell you this much. Her Majesty is not very happy about all of this.”
“Norathar. Warlord. Your Highness. Whatever I’m supposed to call you. I picked up on that.”
She nodded, her eyes still focused past me; I had the feeling that I wasn’t there. “Her friendship with Morrolan goes way back, you know.”
“Morrolan? How does Morrolan enter into this?”
She focused on me, a puzzled look on her face. Then she said, “I keep forgetting how much you don’t know.”
“So. fill me in on some of it?”
“You want a history lesson?”
“No. I don’t. I really, really don’t. I think I’d rather have another beating. But if I need one to understand what’s going on, then I’ll just sit here and take it.”
She made an effort at a smile. “I think we can skip it, for now.”
See? My goddess loves me. “Okay, what do I need to know. That you can tell me.”
She hesitated, then it came out quickly. “When she asked me to be Warlord, she extracted a couple of promises. One I’m breaking now, by talking to you. The other is that Aliera is to escape.”
“Escape,” I repeated.
She nodded.
“I trust Aliera doesn’t know about this?”
“That is correct.”
I sighed. “Well. And the Empress is, you say, a reborn Phoenix?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Just what is that supposed—”
“Sorry. That was out of line. Being stupid doesn’t mean being decadent.”
She said, very precisely, “I do not consider Her Majesty to be stupid.”
“No, I guess she isn’t. In fact, this shows how smart she is.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A stupid person can make only certain, limited types of errors; the mistakes open to a clever fellow are far broader. But to the one who knows how smart he is compared to everyone else, the possibilities for true idiocy are boundless.”
“Vlad—”
“Norathar. Never, ever, will Aliera go along with this. To escape is to admit guilt. Think about it.”
She started to argue, stopped, frowned. I let her work it through. It shouldn’t have taken that long.
“You’re right,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I have to speak with Her Majesty.”
“Good thinking. Had a whole plan, didn’t you?”
She nodded. I was tempted to smirk, but she might have killed me. Besides, it wasn’t all that funny.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll get out of your way. This clears up a few things, but unfortunately, doesn’t help me. But at least I’m convinced you didn’t order those Dragonlords to attack me.”
“How do you know they were Dragonlords?”
“Huh? Well, for starters, if they were Jhereg they’d have killed me.”
“And if they were Orca?”
I stared at her. She flushed; something I could never have imagined her doing.
“Well done, Boss!”
“Every once in a while, you get a break.”
I let her sit there for a moment and reflect on the difficulty of unsaying something. Then I said, “Don’t feel too bad. I’d been pretty sure of it, anyway.”
She cursed softly under her breath.
“I feel your pain,” I said.
“You will soon,” she said.
“So, feel like filling in the missing piece?”
She glared. “And if I don’t?”
That took me a moment, then I got it and shook my head. “No, no. I’m not going to tell anyone anything about what you did or did not tell me. I’m asking you to fill in the pieces I’m missing. If you don’t, I’ll find out another way; that’s all.”
She bit her lip, then nodded. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“I know the Jhereg and the Orca are working together. On what, exactly? And how are they forcing the Empress to cooperate?”
“All right.” She took a deep breath. “It goes back to before the Interregnum.”
I almost made a remark about how I’d been promised no history, but there are times not to be clever.
“The Jhereg had come up with a big moneymaking scheme that they never got to pull off because the world blew up before they could try it. And maybe for other reasons, too, I don’t know. Anyway, the Left Hand got wind of it a few years ago, started collaborating with the Right Hand and the Orca, and have been trying to put it back.”
“And what is ‘it’?”
“Narcotics, hallucinogens, psychedelics, disassociatives—”
“Norathar, I don’t know most of those words.”
“All right. Opium. Logfungus. Dreamgrass. Laughwort. Koelsh leaf. Poppy extract.”
“What about them?”
“What if they were suddenly illegal?”
“Huh?
“What if—”
“I heard you, I’m just trying to wrap my head around it.”
“What would happen?”
“I don’t know. Um, well, it would drive the prices through the roof.”
“And who would sell it?”
“The Jhereg, of course. Yikes. What a scam! And the Orca?”
“They’d supply it.”
“And the Left Hand?”
“Facilitating deliv—I hadn’t said anything about the Left Hand.”
“It was my own theory. Go on.”
“Facilitating delivery and hiding and selling spells to detect Imperial agents, the way they do now with gambling games.”
“I didn’t know they did that; I never used them.”
“They do. And there is liable to be Iorich involvement too—bribes for mild sentences, and so on.”
“Iorich do that?”
“Funny guy.”
I shook my head. “This is huge. How are they convincing the Empress to go for it?”
“The massacre at Tirma.”
“Huh?”
“Word is about to leak out that it happened because the sergeant was using a combination of koelsh leaves and poppy.”
“Oh. Hmmm. Public outcry?”
The Warlord nodded.
“Is it true? Was he?”
“No.”
“Then why can’t he be made to testify to that?”
“In fact, once this becomes public, that is exactly what will happen.”
“Well, and?”
“And who will believe it? It will be seen by the nobles and the middle classes as a means of distracting attention from the lucrative trade in brain chemicals.”
“How does arresting Aliera help?”
“If Aliera is arrested on an obviously bogus charge, it will add weight to the idea that the massacre in Tirma came from orders on high. It will look like the Empress blames Aliera, but knows she can’t get a conviction on the actual charge, because—”
“Because it must be approved by the Council of Princes, who wouldn’t approve it, so the conviction must be on an Edict, which bypasses peer approval.”
“Well, very good, Vlad. I had no idea you were so well acquainted with the law.”
“I’ve managed to pick up a few pieces here and there,” I said modestly.
“So, now you know, and now I’ve betrayed an oath by telling you.”
“Yeah. And now I know what’s going on, and why, but I’m not sure it helps me.”
“On the contrary,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “It potentially helps you a great deal.”
“How is that?”
“If you reveal what I’ve told you—”
“Oh, come on, Norathar. You know I won’t do that.”
She grunted. “There’s another thing it gets you,
then: an ally.”
“You?”
“Yes. Anything I can do without betraying Her Majesty.”
“Hmmm. That may be a bit like, ‘I’ll run any errand you want that doesn’t require me to stand up.’ Still, I appreciate the offer, and I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Do that,” she said.
So there I was: I’d uncovered what was hidden, I’d found the big secret, I’d turned over the key rock, and now I just had the minor, unimportant little detail of figuring out what to do about it. Splendid. I tried to recall some of the vocabulary I’d picked up during my brief stint as a foot soldier, but you have to keep up with those skills or you lose them.
So, back to the beginning. I’d have to wait for Kiera to get some confirmations, and wait for Kragar to learn a few details about the Left Hand. In the meantime—
“Vlad?”
“Hmmm?”
“I asked if there was anything else.”
“Oh, sorry. No. Thank you.”
She nodded and I took my leave. If the fates loved me, I’d make it back to my room alive, and Kiera would be waiting there. I did, and she wasn’t—make of that what you will.
I unloaded a few pounds of hardware next to the bed, and stretched out on it. It felt wonderful for about ten seconds, then I gradually became aware of each bruise. Once, long before and in a different part of the world, I’d removed my amulets to perform a simple spell to get rid of some aches and pains. It had proved a mistake for two reasons: It almost got me killed, and it had given Loiosh a chance to say I told you so. I was willing to risk the first, but I’d rather hurt than take a chance on the second.
I didn’t fall asleep, but to take my mind off how much I hurt, I spent some time wishing someone would bring me something to eat. Loiosh picked up on the thought, and made an offer of sorts which I rejected; I wasn’t that hungry.
“Boss, do we have a plan?”
“We will.”
“Oh, good. I feel so much better when we have a plan.”
“In that case, maybe you come up with one this time. One that doesn’t involve a dead teckla.”
“Division of labor, Boss. That’s what makes this work, you know.”
“Yeah, I keep forgetting that. Division of labor. I come up with the plans, and you laugh at them.”
“Exactly.”
I closed my eyes, the better to concentrate on everything that hurt. No, I don’t know why I do these things; stop asking.
After a while, I heard a clap at the door and at almost the same moment Loiosh said, “It’s Kiera.”
Now, there was good news at a good time. “Please bring your sneaky and most welcome self inside,” I called out.
The door opened and she came in, looking worried. “I heard you were beaten,” she said.
“How did you hear that? Are there more of you than I know about?”
She gave me a reproachful look.
“Sorry,” I said.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked me over carefully. Loiosh flew over to her, and she absently scratched under his chin while she studied me. “They did a pretty thorough job, it seems,” she said judiciously.
“I guess. Want to tell me what you learned?”
“Just what you expected me to.”
My heart skipped a beat. Yes, I’d expected it. But I hadn’t really, well, expected it. “Details?”
“Minutes of a meeting called by Her Majesty to discuss the massacre in Tirma.”
“And?”
“The list of those present include the representative of the Jhereg.”
“Is that usual for something like this?”
“No.”
“All right. And the representative said?”
“Nothing that was recorded.”
“Then—?”
“Did they hit you in the head a lot?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
She made a disgusted sound. “Work it out anyway.”
“They wouldn’t have had the Jhereg representative there, except to hear something, or to inform the Empress of something.”
“Yes.”
“And either way, it means the Jhereg has their hand in this.”
“Which you knew.”
“Suspected, then later had confirmed by—uh, I shouldn’t say.”
“All right. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why is the Jhereg involved.”
“Two reasons. I can’t talk about one, and I don’t need to talk about the other.”
“You don’t need to? What do you mean?”
“Kiera, have you been beaten too, lately?”
Her eyes narrowed as she concentrated, then she said, “Oh. You think it’s all about you?”
“I always think it’s all about me. When I’m wrong I look stupid; when I’m right, I’m still alive to keep looking stupid.”
“It’s a little hard to believe,” she said.
“Why?”
“Engineering a massacre of peasants, embroiling the Empress in—”
“No, no. I don’t think that was about me. That just gave them the opportunity.”
“Ah. You mean, not the problem, but the solution.”
“Yes.”
“The Jhereg knew that if Aliera was in trouble, you’d find out and come back and they could get to you. They were doing something else involving the Empress, and just grabbed the opportunity to pull you into it.”
“Pretty much. You know the Jhereg. Does that seem farfetched?”
“No,” she said with no hesitation.
“It doesn’t to me, either.”
“Do you have an idea of how to deal with it?”
“One. Tell the Empress.”
“Vlad, do you know what happens if you do that?”
“Something pretty unpleasant for the Jhereg. Do I care?”
“What about for the Empire?”
“Do I care about that?”
“And for Zerika?”
“Like she cared how unpleasant it was for Aliera?”
“She did, you know.”
“Stop, Kiera, before you move me to tears. Oh, wait, no, that’s the pain from the beating I got for asking questions about how much she cared.”
“I don’t think that’s why you got beaten.”
“No, neither do I. I think it was because it’s considered rude for Easterners who are also Jhereg to go asking questions about the Warlord.”
“Maybe.”
“You have another idea?”
“No, just a feeling.”
“A feeling.”
“The beating. It doesn’t feel right.” I started to make an obvious remark but she cut me off. “No, listen, Vlad. I’m serious. Try to reconstruct the sequence in your head.”
“It isn’t that hard. I was asking questions about Norathar, and—”
“Of whom?”
“Eh? Well, Norathar, first of all. And Cawti. And a servant in the Palace, who first told me Norathar was now Warlord.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Is it? Where did these Dragonlords hear about it?”
“I assume from the Teckla. Or, indirectly from the Teckla.”
“That’s what’s bothering me.”
“You didn’t even know about it.”
She didn’t deign to answer that. “Imagine how they heard it.”
“The Teckla gossips to one of his friends, the Dragonlord overhears it—”
“When is the last time you knew of a Dragon listening to a Teckla’s gossip?”
I shrugged, which sent pain shooting from my rib to the opposite shoulder. “Okay, then the Teckla mentions it to someone who someone will listen. Snake up a rope, as they say.”
“When did you speak to the Teckla?”
“Yesterday.”
“So, how long did this all take?”
“Kiera, how long does it take?”
“I’m not saying it’s impo
ssible. I’m just suspicious.”
“What do you think happened instead?”
“I would very much like to know.”
“If you’re offering to look into it for me, you know I’m not going to turn you down.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, cross-legged, which was only strange when I thought about it later. “I’m not sure,” she said at last. “The fact is, I don’t want to look into it, I want to figure it out.”
“I know that one.”
“So, any ideas?”
“Yeah, give up. At least, it’s never worked for me.”
“Vlad—”
“Look, I still think it was just what it seemed to be. How can I figure out what I don’t think happened?”
“Work with me.”
I sighed. “All right, let’s assume you’re right. In the first place, if the beating wasn’t a message not to investigate the Warlord, then the message didn’t come across very well, because I have no idea what it might be about.”
“I think we can assume they weren’t telling you not to help Aliera.”
“That sounds pretty safe.”
“So, what else have you been doing that might have offended someone?”
“Hiding from the Jhereg. And you know how much Dragons hate that.”
“Heh.” Then she said, “No, wait a minute.”
“Kiera, if Dragonlords start caring about Jhereg business—”
“Vlad, what made you think they were Dragons?”
I sighed. “Everybody is asking me that. Mostly because if they were Jhereg, I’d be dead. And if they were Orca, I’d have won.”
“Orca? What do Orca have to do with this?”
I waved it away. “If they weren’t Dragonlords, who do you think they were?”
“I think they were Jhereg.”
“Then why didn’t they—”
“Because they weren’t hired to kill you, just to beat you.”
“By whom?”
“The Left Hand,” she said.
10
Q: Please state your name and house.
A: Efrin, Teckla.
Q: Where do you live?
A: Nowhere. I used to live in Tirma.
Q: Address the Court as “my lord.” You say you live nowhere, how is that possible?
A: My home was burned down on the same day my wife, my son, and my daughters were murdered by butchers in uniform.
