Hawk (Vlad) (27 page)

“Going to arrive early?”

I shook my head. “Just exactly when I’m expected.”

“How trusting of you.”

“Kragar, you weren’t serious, were you? I mean about—quit laughing. Jerk.”

Still smirking, he made a gesture to Deragar with his eyebrows, and the latter went out, then returned with a bottle of Piarran Mist.

“What?” I said. “Some sort of last-drink ritual, so if I die, I’ll have had the good stuff? Seriously, Kragar?”

“Shut up and drink it, Vlad.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” I told him.

We drank, and didn’t talk about old times, or new times, or anything at all. However much I may laugh at stupid rituals like that, it was very, very good; it went over my tongue like clear water, but left a whole symphony of flavors and hints of aroma that gave me something to think about instead of whether I was about to die, and, more important, how much I hated waiting.

Kragar seemed to appreciate it as much as I did; Deragar might have, too, but if so he hid it well.

I stopped after two cups, because having my mind foggy wouldn’t be a good idea. Then I stood up. “Okay,” I said. “I’m heading out.”

“It’s still pretty early,” he said. “I mean, if you really are planning to get there exactly on time.”

“I have a stop to make on the way.”

“All right,” said Kragar. “Good luck.”

I took most of the coin I had left and set it aside with a note telling Deragar it was his. It was a lot, but he’d earned it. And soon, I’d be able to get at my own bank account. Or not.

I slung the euphonium case over my shoulder.

I made sure the lockpick was where it should be, and that I had the flask, the orange, the ring, the hollow knife, the glass ball, the wand, and the egg. I was wearing the cloak. I went through every weapon I was carrying, again, one at a time, to see they were accessible and that I remembered where they were.

I took the secret passage for what would almost certainly be the last time, and I didn’t let myself think a good-bye to my old lab as I passed it by.

If I lived through this, I decided, first order of business was going to be some new clothes—something that fit better, and looked better. Yeah, that’s what I’d do.

No, a good meal first. Maybe Valabar’s. Certainly Valabar’s.

Focus, Vlad. Task at hand and all that. Worry about later, later.

It was afternoon, just making its way toward evening, but the light was still good. There were lots of Teckla in the market, wearing bright blue, and yellow, and red, and sometimes disregarding their House colors entirely. I wondered why it was only the Teckla who felt so free to ignore their House colors, and why I’d never noticed before. Do most Dragaerans wear their House colors because of tradition? A social obligation? Just feels right? I don’t know; I always wore the gray and black because everyone else in the Organization did; I’d never questioned it. If I’d thought of it, I’d have asked Kragar—it was just the sort of thing he and I could talk about for hours over wine and biscuits. Well, too late now.

Stop it, Vlad.

Vlad. I was Fenarian, but had been given a name—Vladimir—imported from a neighboring kingdom. Cawti had always called me Vladimir. There was something caressing about the way she’d said it.

Cawti.

Sara.

I let out a breath between clenched teeth and continued. As I passed a market, I thought I saw Devera, Aliera’s daughter, looking at me. I almost stopped, but when I looked again she was gone, so I decided I was either imagining it, or she didn’t want to talk to me. She is a very unusual child, but I guess now isn’t the best time for that conversation. I put it out of my head and kept walking until I reached the Imperial Palace.

I’d allowed a lot of slack time in my schedule, but if no one on the list of people I could call on was here, I might be in trouble. It would not do to be late to my own meeting.

There were a pair of guards blocking my way into the Dragon Wing. The expressions on their faces were not encouraging.

I showed them my signet ring, and they weren’t entirely sure how to handle it. While they were deciding, I said, “Count Szurke requesting an audience of Lord Khaavren. If he isn’t available,” I added, “any of his subordinates will do.”

They let me pass.

The Dragon Wing of the Imperial Palace is nearly as confusing as Dzur Mountain, but there are more people to ask questions of, and some of them are willing to answer. I made it to the captain’s office, and was informed that Khaavren would be willing to see me at once, no doubt on account of me holding an Imperial title and all. It was good for that. Also good for having the Empress send someone looking for me when I was almost dead, and saving Orca kids from arrest. I wondered how far I could stretch it.

There’s a lot I could tell you about Lord Khaavren, called Papa Cat behind his back, as I happened to know. But most of it is beside the point. What matters for now is that he wears at least two different cloaks within the Imperial Hierarchy, and both of them involve giving orders to people who have the right to perform violence with Imperial sanction. The office I found him in had to do with his role as Captain of the Imperial Guard, as opposed to the much more interesting one.

He was seated behind a desk, just like I used to be. He stood up and gave me an exactly correct bow. “Count Szurke,” he said.

“My lord Captain,” I said.

“May I offer you something?”

“Please. Hot water, a fine-mesh strainer if you have one, and two glasses.”

An eyebrow went up. “Will I enjoy whatever it is you’re about to share?”

“Sorry. No. It tastes like—it doesn’t taste good at all, but I wasn’t offering to share it.”

“All right,” he said, obviously intrigued.

He gave the orders, and the two glasses appeared. I dumped the ground koelsch leaves into one, poured hot water over it, then strained it into the other and drank it. I guess it didn’t taste all
that
bad; it was a bit like if it stopped trying so hard to be a bitter tea, it’d be a fairly effective bitter tea, if that makes sense.

“I assume,” he said, “that the beverage isn’t why you’re here.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “Sorry.” This may be the first time in my life I’ve apologized to a Dragaeran twice in a single conversation.

“So, how may I be of service?” he asked.

“That must have been painful to say.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

“I’d like something from you.”

He shifted in his chair and studied me through narrowed eyes. “It seems to me, Lord Tal—that is, Count Szurke—that I have paid that debt.”

“No argument.”

“Then give me another reason to help you.”

“Political infighting.”

“Go on.”

I hesitated. I hadn’t figured out how to put this so I could get what I wanted without pissing him off; and I should have. I spoke carefully. “If there were some department, say a law enforcement unit within the Empire, that wanted to get an edge over a rival department within the Empire, it would seem worth a little effort on the part of the captain, wouldn’t it?”

He didn’t speak, or even move, for what seemed like a long time. Then he said, “What sort of edge, what sort of effort?”

I stood up, took the platinum ring out of my pouch, and set it on his desk. He picked it up and looked at it, then at me. “How did you get this?”

“I didn’t kill anyone for it,” I said, answering the question he hadn’t asked.

“But you know who did?”

“No, just where it ended up. I got it back.”

“All right,” he said. “You have my attention.”

“I want to report a crime,” I told him.

Part Three

T
ALONS
AND
B
EAK

15

M
AKING
B
ARGAINS
OR
M
AKING
T
ESTS

We saluted each other, and I headed out of the Palace, which took quite a while. From the Street of the Dragon, I cut across on Twohills so I could pick up Kieron Road near the edge of the city. Where they joined was a good place for an ambush, so I took my time and was careful. Loiosh let me know it was safe.

I continued the journey. As close to the Orb as I’d been in the Imperial Palace, I knew what time it was, and I was doing all right. I checked my weapons again, focused only on the destination, on getting there safely. One step at a time, that’s how you do these things. Make sure you’re putting all your effort into whatever the current task is, because if that fails, you’ll never get to the next one. And, just now, the next step involved many steps. Walk, walk, walk. While hoping not to be spotted. Being killed now, right before—no, I’d hate that.

Adrilankha proper had vanished behind me, and I was still alive. So far, so good, as the guy who’d fallen off the cliff said halfway down.

“Okay, Loiosh. Up now, and keep a good eye.”
I turned off Kieron and climbed an empty, rocky hill to my right.

“Boss?”

“Too many Jhereg know where I’m going. I’m going cross-country from here.”

“Good thinking. But won’t we get lost?”

“Probably. But I’ve allowed time for that, too.”

“Have it all figured, do you, Boss?”

“I hope so,”
I told him.

I got to the top of the hill and started across rocky hills and through occasional sparse woods. Fortunately, in all of my wandering, I’d become an expert in this and it no longer bothered me and that was two lies in one statement.

For a wonder, I didn’t actually get lost. I ended up on a low hill, crouched among rocks, and staring down at the building where, in a short time, we would be settling some important issues. Important to me, at least.

I opened the pouch and took out the small, clear bulb. I set it on the ground next to me.

“Loiosh?”

“Got it, Boss. You’re going to tell me when—”

“Yeah.”

I waited for a while—a long while, thinking about nothing in particular. I took the opportunity to relieve myself; not that I especially needed to, but I had learned early on that having a full bladder when everything in the world is happening at once was just an annoyance I could do without.

Time passed. I stood up to pace, changed my mind, sat down again. Several times. You take your excitement where you can get it.

Below, four men in Jhereg colors appeared in front of the door. I recognized one as the Demon. I also wondered who knew this place well enough to teleport to it, and if that would be a problem. I still don’t know, and no it wasn’t, so never mind.

I stood up, brushed myself off, and walked down to meet him.

Of course, one of the Demon’s people spotted me and said something I was too far away to hear. The Demon stopped, looked around, saw me, and waited.

“Good precaution,” were his first words after I was in earshot.

“It disturbs me how well you know me.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been trying to kill you for several years, you know.”

I nodded. “True enough. And you, m’lord, are punctual as always.”

“Shall we?” he said, then politely went in first, and even more politely had his bodyguards go in front of me, thus sparing me a lot of itching between the shoulder blades. It didn’t actually prove anything, but, like I said, it was polite.

“Okay, Loiosh.”

“Boss—”

“See you in a while.”

Loiosh and Rocza left my shoulders and flew away.

I followed the Demon into the place. We stepped into a long hallway. The first door on the right was to an antechamber with an oversized fireplace and a door. Past the door was the room we were to meet in. If you’re paying attention, you’ve noticed that, with windows facing the ocean-sea, the antechamber should have been on the
left
. Sorry, can’t help you with that.

The Demon opened the door and went into the antechamber, while his bodyguards took positions against the wall opposite the fireplace. If there were as many bodyguards coming as I expected, or even half as many, it was going to get awfully crowded in there.

The Demon cleared his throat.

“Right,” I said. I flipped the cloak aside and moved my arm out of the way, hating it. But if that’s what it took, that’s what it took.

One of the bodyguards pulled out what looked like a piece of silver cord, and approached me. He licked his lips. I suspect he wasn’t enjoying this much more than I was. He glanced at the Demon, and I could see him brace himself. I could also see him reminding himself of how much extra he was getting for this.

He wrapped the cord around Lady Teldra’s hilt and around my belt, and made a tight knot. Then he made a gesture, and backed away quickly. He stank of fear, which I admit gave me a certain satisfaction.

I didn’t feel anything, except that, maybe, there was a vague sense of something missing, as if I were in a room in which the light was just the tiniest bit dimmer than it had been a moment before. Only it wasn’t sight, it was, well, something else.

“One hour,” said the Demon. “As agreed.”

“As agreed,” I agreed.

I followed the Demon into the room itself.

“Anyone else here yet?” asked the Demon over his shoulder.

“I don’t think so, m’lord. But I wasn’t waiting that long.”

That earned me a quick glance. I looked back at him, and he barely shrugged.

The room we were in was the one I’d picked out—the only one possible. There was a long, lacquered table, set with several more chairs than we’d need. One thing I hadn’t been able to determine in advance was where I’d be sitting, but I’d decided it shouldn’t matter too much. Or, at any rate, I hoped it wouldn’t.

The Demon indicated that I should sit at the head of the table, and he put himself by my right hand. I wondered if it were a courtesy, a gesture of respect, or if he just wanted to be able to reach my right hand quickly. Maybe some of all of those. But it put me with my back to the window, and it couldn’t get much better than that. If things kept going like this, I might actually survive the day. I removed the euphonium case from my shoulder, set it next to me, and sat.