Iorich

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Iorich Page 23

by Steven Brust


  “You mean, a rescue at the last minute and all?”

  I nodded. “I have no idea if I can, or how, but I might be able to pull something like that off.”

  He nodded slowly, rubbing his chin, then said, “No.”

  “No?”

  “Legally, it would have no standing. Let me explain. There are three ways this can go: She can be tried for what she was arrested for, or she—”

  “Wait, what she was really arrested for, or what the official charges were?”

  He blinked, hesitated, and said, “I’ll start over. There are three ways this can go. One: She can be arrested for practicing Elder Sorcery, she—”

  “It’s crap.”

  He shrugged. “That’s as may be. Two: She can be investigated for her role, if any, in the massacre. Or, three: All charges could be dropped and she could be released.”

  “Eh? Well, that would be best. How can we get that to happen?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’m just listing the possibilities. Now, I can represent her on the charge of Elder Sorcery. If the investigation into the massacre happens, she should find another advocate, because that falls under Military Code, or Imperial Responsibility, or some combination, and in any case I know nothing about it.”

  “Well, but getting her released—”

  “That isn’t something we do; that’s just something that could happen if the Empress takes it into her head to do it, or if the Justicer decides there’s no case. Now, we’re going to be appearing before Justicer Moriv. I’ve tried cases with her before, and we get along all right.”

  “That’s important, I assume.”

  He nodded. “She’s easygoing, for a Justicer, but doesn’t tolerate any deviations from strict code; that’s probably why they picked her.”

  “But she has to obey Imperial orders, right? I mean, if the Empress tells her to drop the case, she has to drop it.”

  He hesitated. “It isn’t that simple.”

  I stifled a groan.

  “An order from the Imperial Advocate would do it, certainly.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “The one representing the Empire in the proceedings. My opponent, if you will.”

  “Oh. Is that something liable to happen?”

  “If he thinks he can’t win.”

  “How do we convince him he can’t win?”

  “In court.”

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “It’s what I’ve been working on.”

  “How’s it looking so far?”

  “Not all that good, but there are a few points that might get us somewhere.”

  “And if the Empress ordered the, what was it? Imperial Advocate? to stop the prosecution?”

  “Same as ordering the Justicer to. Technically, they aren’t permitted to. But, ah, it would have a strong influence. I can’t predict what would happen.”

  “So we’re back to convincing Her Majesty to drop it, and hoping for the best.”

  He gave me a look. “Or I might win the case.”

  “Right. Sorry.” I hesitated. “The Empress is under a lot of pressure from a lot of different directions. What happens if she sees a way out?”

  “Leading question. She’ll take it, of course, barring any significant factors you haven’t mentioned.”

  “How would it work?”

  “The best way is to present a request to dismiss to the Justicer and the Imperial Advocate, with a copy to Her Majesty. The trick is finding grounds for the request. We don’t actually have any, which puts all of them in a tricky position.”

  “I have information that the idea of arresting Aliera came from the Jhereg representative; does that help?”

  “Is it information from someone who will say so under the Orb?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Then it doesn’t help.” He hesitated. “Unless.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “The idea came from the Jhereg representative—to whom?”

  “Uh, to the Empire.”

  “No, no. To whom did the representative make—”

  “Oh. To Her Majesty.”

  “Ah. That’s different. Then the Orb will remember it, which means that it happened legally.”

  “Um, and so?”

  “So we present a claim on conspiracy against the Jhereg.”

  “Oh, they’ll love me for that.”

  He shrugged. “They have a lot of affection for you now, do they?”

  “Good point. How does it work?”

  “We present a petition to have the Orb interrogated about the source for the idea of arresting Aliera—it doesn’t matter how we know about it, as long as we’re specific about the request. Then you have to show reasonable probability that there was a Jhereg assassin working against the investigation.”

  “I can do that,” I said.

  “If you get lucky.”

  “Shut up.”

  I asked him, “How does it work from there?”

  “They grant the petition, look at the evidence of a Jhereg assassin, find reasonable grounds that the prosecution was from a private conspiracy rather than cause of justice—what?”

  “Nothing. An involuntary noise. Go on.”

  “And when they’ve established that, they dismiss the charges.”

  “What about the Imperial investigation part? I mean, the real charges?”

  “I have no control over that, and if there is one, as I said, I’d be the wrong advocate to handle it.”

  I nodded. “All right. So my part is simple—stop the assassin in such a way that it’s known he was an assassin.”

  “When will this happen?”

  I checked the time with the Orb. “Four to six hours from now.”

  “Oh! Well, if you’ll pardon me then, I need to get these petitions drafted.”

  I nodded and got out of there.

  “Boss, how are you going to identify the assassin, much less prove what he is?”

  “That isn’t what I’m worried about, Loiosh. I’m worried about how to stop the Imperial investigation.”

  “Why stop it? Will they really convict Aliera just for killing a few Teckla?”

  “If we’re lucky, we’ll find out,” I said.

  16

  To assert that final responsibility for actions taken by Imperial Representatives rests with the Empress is to state a truism without substance. In this case in particular the discoveries of this committee show that the problem is, above all, that Imperial policies are carried out by human beings, who are necessarily flawed. While incidents such as this are regrettable, the facts do not support blanket condemnations of Imperial policies with regard to rebellion, much less the Empire itself. Rather, incidents such as this must be accepted as in some measure unavoidable.

  However, there are, in the opinion of this committee, certain steps which can be taken to minimize the frequency and severity of such events, which steps are listed in Appendix 27.

  The big question was whether I had enough time to set everything up: I only had a couple of hours left until the meeting, and if this was going to work, I had to arrive early to try to convince them to let me attend, and to watch everyone arrive in hopes of spotting the dzur among the norska.

  The same sergeant was working in the Dragon Wing. He did not look pleased to see me.

  “Same thing,” I said. “If you would be so kind as to inform the Lord Morrolan that I wish to see him, and add that it is urgent.”

  He scowled but agreed.

  “And,” I said. “If I might trouble you for an additional ser -vice, please have someone find the Warlord and tell her the following: Vlad has a way out. I’ll be waiting in that same room I was in before, if that is acceptable.”

  Then I wandered for a bit until I found an errand-runner, parted with a few coins, and arranged for a message to be delivered, fast, to a certain innkeeper in a certain hostelry not far from Malak Circle, near where I used to work.

  Then I found the room where I’d waited before, and waited a
gain, drumming my fingers on the arm of the chair and hoping everyone would arrive in time.

  Norathar was the first to arrive. She entered without clapping and said, “What is it?” without even sitting down.

  “I’ll tell you when the others are here,” I said.

  “What others?”

  “Just friends.”

  She sat down facing me, looking like she wanted to read my plan on my face. If it were that easy to do, I’d have no trouble identifying the assassin.

  A few minutes later, there was a clap, and Morrolan entered. He looked at me, looked at Norathar, and said, “Well?”

  “We’re still waiting,” I said.

  “For?”

  “The others,” I said, just to be contrary and because turning Morrolan’s bait is always fun.

  He rolled his eyes and sat next to Norathar. Daymar was there within about a minute. He looked around the room curiously, as if he hadn’t realized the Dragon Wing had places to sit. The others, it seemed, didn’t know quite what to make of him. Well, neither did I, for that matter.

  A few minutes later, there was a soft but firm clap, and Kiera entered; she was the one I’d been most worried about reaching, so I relaxed a bit. “Just one more,” I said.

  “Who is that?” asked Kragar.

  I stared at him. He smiled sweetly and said, “Ah, glorious vengeance,” and smirked. I felt better seeing that the others, including Kiera, were also startled. I did not give Kragar the satisfaction of asking when he’d arrived. I just said, “We’re all here now.”

  “Good,” said Norathar. “Get on with it.”

  I outlined the situation as I understood it, except that I made it sound gloomier than it was so it would be more dramatic when I announced that I had a way out. It would have worked better if they didn’t know me so well. Kiera smiled a little, Morrolan stared off into space, and Norathar said, “Get on with it” again.

  So I did, making it as clear as possible, and only glossing over the part where I had some doubts I could pull it off. I should have known better. “Vlad,” said Kiera. “How are you going to identify the assassin?”

  “I have some ideas on that,” I said.

  Norathar said, “He’s going to brandish a knife and see who reacts as if he knows what he’s doing.” That hurt, because I had been considering that.

  “There are problems with that,” I said.

  “Yes. Like, if no one reacts right. Or if more than one do.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Now, Kiera—”

  “Hmmm?”

  I glanced at Norathar. “Uh, no rudeness intended, Norathar, but in your official capacity, you don’t want to hear this. I’ll whisper.”

  She rolled her eyes, and I stood up, leaned over to Kiera, and whispered.

  She listened, then said, “Sounds easy enough.”

  Yeah, I’m sure it was, for any thief good enough to steal the mustache off an Easterner’s face. But I just nodded to her and sat down again.

  Kragar said, “You never mentioned what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Keep the Jhereg off-balance while we do the other stuff. We don’t want them interfering until Aliera is out, with papers with a big Imperial seal on them saying the matter is over.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Any idea how?”

  “Yes. Find the Imperial Representative, and keep her occupied.”

  “Just how am I going to do that, when I can be interrupted at any time?”

  “Kragar, meet Daymar.”

  “We’ve met,” said Kragar. Daymar, it seemed, missed the inflection in Kragar’s voice, and just nodded.

  “What’s my part?” asked Daymar.

  “Dress up as a Jhereg, go with Kragar, and make sure the Jhereg representative can’t get any psychic messages. And doesn’t know it.”

  “Dress up like a Jhereg?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  He paused. Then, “All right.”

  “Good.”

  “What about sending?”

  “She’s welcome to talk to anyone she wants. I just don’t want any Jhereg telling her to go see the Empress right now.” I stopped and looked at Kragar. “Just to be clear, if they figure out what you’ve done, and I don’t see how to prevent that, you might become a target.”

  Kragar yawned. I shrugged. Then I winced.

  “Still in pain?” said Kiera.

  “Some.”

  “Is it going to—”

  “I hope not. Morrolan, it’s clear enough?”

  He nodded. “I go to the advocate’s office. What’s his name?”

  “Perisil.”

  “Right. I wait there for, uh, three more hours and a bit, then, if I haven’t heard from you, I take him in to see the Empress. Sounds easy.”

  “I hope so. Warlord?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Sorry, Highness.”

  She stared at me. I really, really should learn not to bait Dragonlords. It’s a bad habit, and one of these days it could get me into trouble. But it’s so much fun. I cleared my throat and said, “You know where to be, and when?”

  “Yes. I’m to make sure no one tries to prevent Morrolan and the advocate from reaching Her Majesty.”

  I nodded.

  “That’s it, then,” I said. I checked the time. I could make it if I hurried.

  “Good luck, Vlad,” said Morrolan. Kiera just smiled her smile. Daymar was lost in thought. Norathar shrugged. They all got up, one at a time, and filed out. When I was alone, I pulled the dagger from my boot and studied it and tested it. It was a stiletto, my favorite weapon for making someone become dead. My favorite target, when possible, is the left eye, because it is back there that Dragaerans keep the part of their brains that permits psychic activity. Not that I’m necessarily trying to cut off psychic activity, but if you take it out, they go into shock instantly. That takes a weapon with reasonable length, and a good point. This one had that, though the edge wasn’t anything to brag about.

  But I had no time to sharpen it just now. I replaced it in my boot, tested the draw, didn’t like it, and ended up arranging a quick rig against my stomach on the left side, hidden by my cloak. I tested it, and it worked, and it didn’t hurt much more than a whole lot. Fair enough.

  I set out for the Stone Bridge, cutting around the Palace district, Loiosh and Rocza keeping an eye on the foot traffic to make sure no one was interested in my movements.

  I was a bit distracted: For one thing, it hurt to move. For another, the trickiest part of the whole matter was just coming up. I thought about asking Cawti to help, but I had the impression a recommendation from her might not go over well with these people. I thought up several possible stories and rejected them.

  I still hadn’t made up my mind when I got near the cottage.

  “Check.”

  “On it, Boss.” And, “Different guy, same spot.”

  “All right.”

  I stood behind an oak that would have taken three of me to wrap my arms around, and I rubbed a bit of stuff onto my skin, glued on the beard, and set the wig in place.

  “What do we do?”

  “Your choice: cloak, or outside.”

  “Neither?”

  “Loiosh.”

  “Cloak, I guess.”

  “Get in, then.”

  They did. I approached the cottage and remembered to pound on the door with my fist, instead of clapping. That hurt, too.

  The door opened, and a middle-aged woman, Easterner, opened the door. I couldn’t guess from looking which part of the East she drew her ancestry; she had a large mouth, and wide-set eyes that were almost perfectly round, like a cat’s. The look in the eyes, at the moment, was suspicious. “Yes?” she said.

  “I’m called Savn,” I said, pulling the name more or less out of the air. “I’d like a few minutes of conversation with you before the gathering here, if you don’t mind.”

  “How do you know about the gathering here?


  “That’s the voice, Boss. The one doing most of the talking.”

  “All right.”

  “I’m hearing double, Boss. Can I—?”

  “All right.”

  There came the psychic equivalent of a relieved sigh.

  I said, “Many people know about the gathering here, and the one later with Lord Caltho.”

  “Everyone knows about that one.”

  “Yes, including some people you would probably rather didn’t.”

  “The Empire?”

  “Worse.”

  She studied me for a moment, then said, “Come in.”

  It was bigger than it had seemed from outside: one big room, with a stove in one corner, and a loft overhead that I’m sure contained the sleeping quarters. There were a lot of plain wooden chairs set out—at least twenty of them. I suspected the chairs accounted for most of the expense of the place.

  She pointed me to one. I sat; she remained standing. Heh. Okay, so that’s how it was going to be.

  “Boss, should you be talking out loud? Here? If I could listen—”

  “Um. Damn. Good point.”

  “Mind if we take a walk?” I said. She looked even more suspicious. I said, “The Empire may be hearing everything we say here, and, worse, someone else might be, too.”

  She frowned, hesitated, then nodded abruptly. I stood up, we walked out the door and down the street. When we were a good distance away, I started talking, but she interrupted before I had a word out.

  “Who are you?” she said.

  “I gave you my name. What’s yours?”

  “Brinea. Now who are you?”

  “I’m what you’d call an independent factor. I’m not with the Empire—” she looked like she didn’t believe that “—or with anyone else. I have a friend who’s caught in the middle of it, which means I’m temporarily on your side.”

  “My side is—”

  “Spare me,” I said. “I have information you’ll want to know, and no interest whatever in politics, whether Imperial or anti-Imperial.”

  She pressed her lips together and said, “What information is that?”

  “Is today’s meeting, here, to plan for the meeting with Caltho?”

  “That’s a question, not information.”

  “All right. If it is, there is liable to be a disguised Jhereg assassin here, who is planning to kill Caltho and blame it on you.”

 

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