The Book of Taltos (49 page)

There were five more in the next room, one at a desk and four lounging around. I knew them all for killers at once. The one at the desk nodded to me, the others looked me over much the way I look over a game hen before I loosen its skin to fill it with mushrooms, garlic, and tarragon.

There were three doors. I pointed to the middle one, asked a question with my eyebrows, received a nod, and went through. His desk was big, and he sat behind it like he belonged there. There were two Jhereg in the room with him, one quiet-looking wisp of a man with a pinched-in face and a dimple who was either an accountant or a sorcerer, and another tough, this one with the cold look of someone who would kill anyone, anytime, for any reason at all. When I came in he shifted his shoulders and ran a hand down his chin, in a gesture I recognized as checking to make sure the surprises under his cloak were all in place and ready. I automatically ran a hand through my hair and adjusted the clasp of my cloak. All of mine were set.

There were no windows in the room, and, so far as I could tell from a quick glance, no other exits. I’d give odds that there was a hidden door somewhere, because that’s how these people work, but I couldn’t find it. Loiosh shifted uncomfortably on my shoulder; he didn’t like the lack of an escape route, either. Rocza, on my other shoulder, picked up some of his nervousness. Boralinoi’s eyes rested on each of the jhereg in turn, then he looked at me.

“I’ve heard of you, Lord Taltos,” he said.

“And I, you, Your Lordship.”

“You wanted to speak to me. Go ahead.”

“It’s a private matter, Your Lordship.”

Without taking his eyes from me, he said, “Cor, N’vaan, don’t speak of this to anyone.”

That was the best I was going to get, then. I said, “I’m coming to you for advice about my marriage, Your Lordship.”

“Sorry. I’m not married.”

“A shame, Your Lordship. Marriage is bliss, you know. But I believe Your Lordship might be able to help me, anyway.”

He took a scent-cloth from his collar and waved it in front of his face, dabbed it against the corners of his mouth, crumpled it up in his hand, and leaned back in the chair. “You’re talking about the woman who’s been working with those troublemakers in South Adrilankha.”

“She’s the only wife I have, Your Lordship. I’d sure hate to lose her.”

“Why do you come to me?”

“It was by your orders that those people were arrested. I would think you could have one released.”

“What makes you think I arranged it?”

“A dream I had last night, Your Lordship. We Easterners always believe our dreams.”

“I see.” He leaned forward and stared at me. “Listen to me, Baronet Taltos, so I don’t have to repeat myself. Those troublemakers are making trouble, and not just in South Adrilankha. The trouble they’re making affects what happens in the rest of the city and beyond its borders. We’ve already had noticeable cuts in our profit in several areas, traced directly to Teckla getting too smart for themselves. If a thing like that happens on its own, so be it; I wouldn’t interfere. But it isn’t happening on its own, these people are making it happen. And who’s right in front of making it happen? Your wife, Taltos. A Jhereg. The Empire has come to us, through our representative, and complained. They’ve denied petitions of ours because of the trouble stirred up by this Jhereg Easterner wife of yours. We can’t have that.

“Yes, I got them arrested. I’ll even tell you how, Taltos. I had a sorcerer of mine blow up a watchstation in South Adrilankha, and leave messages all over it that looked like they’d done it. Does that shock you? It shouldn’t. They needed to be put away, and I’ve put them away. If I haven’t done it thoroughly enough, then I’ll go back and do it again.

“I’m sorry it’s your wife who’s involved, Lord Taltos, I really am. But that’s just your hard luck. Let her out? She was the one I most needed to get. So live with it. Go out and find someone else. If I have my way, she’ll
rot in the Imperial Dungeons until the Great Sea of Chaos floods the Empire. That’s all I have to say. Happy New Year.”

“Easy, boss.”

“I know, Loiosh. I’m trying. Keep Rocza under control, will you?”
I didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to check my temper, and to keep the effort off my face. Then I spoke very slowly and carefully, to make sure there was no mistake.

“So you arranged for my wife to be arrested by the Empire?”

“Yes.”

“That is, my wife in particular?”

“Yes.”

I looked him up and down once, and said, “You know, I believe I’m going to mess you up.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, and concentrated very briefly. The door behind me opened, and, as I turned my head, five of them came through. They were all of them holding daggers; no doubt they’d been waiting for this. I turned back and saw that Boralinoi had pushed his chair back and the two who’d been standing there stepped between him and me. The tough one drew a shortsword. There was an awful stillness, as if the time between heartbeats had stretched across an ocean of movement, holding the world exactly as it was for just one instant that took forever.

“You’re right,” I said at last. “I’m going to kill you.”

Interestingly enough, if there’d been fewer of them I might not have gotten out of there. But the room wasn’t really big enough for all of them to work together, as long as I got the jump; and I did. Loiosh let me see what was behind me well enough for me to throw a pair of daggers into the stomachs of the two directly behind me, which slowed them down a great deal, and at the same time Rocza flew at the most dangerous of them, the sorcerer.

I spun away throwing a handful of darts randomly in the general direction of the three between me and the door, then pivoted away from whatever those behind me might be up to. I was through the door before they could recover. Loiosh went flying down the hall to find out what was up ahead while I turned back to the door.

I had just time to draw my rapier, which is sometimes a handicap against the huge Dragaeran longswords, but worked very nicely indeed against the
Jhereg with the dagger who charged out at me. I cut his knife hand and scored his neck in two quick movements of the wrist that would have made my grandfather proud, then backed up a few steps.

I took a throwing knife into my left hand as Rocza flew out the door and past me to help Loiosh in case he was in trouble. Verra, my goddess, what a team we were that day! The tough one with the shortsword appeared in the door and took my knife directly in his chest. He didn’t go down, which was ideal, since he blocked the door quite effectively. Loiosh gave me the all-clear for the next room, and I was through it and down the stairs.

I’m not much of a sorcerer, but it doesn’t take much of a sorcerer to fuse a door shut, and the few seconds that gained me made all the difference.

“Two toughs in here waiting for you, boss. We’re distracting them, but—yikes!”

“You all right, Loiosh?”

“Near miss, boss.”

“Tell me when.”

“Wait . . . wait . . . .”
I took Spellbreaker into my left hand, wishing I’d had a third hand to hold some darts.
“Now!”
and I charged through the door, point-first.

Loiosh and Rocza had, indeed, distracted them, and the point of my rapier through a throat distracted one of them more. The other, slashing desperately at Rocza, concentrated on me and gestured, but Spellbreaker, spinning wildly, handily stopped whatever it was. I slashed in his general direction just to give him something to think about, then I was through the door. Loiosh and Rocza beat him out of it, I shut it, did my little fusing thing again, and ran like hell down the stairs.

The leatherworker seemed to be just a leatherworker, because his only reaction to seeing me appear with a blooded sword was to squawk and cower, and then I was in the street, across the street, behind a building.

“We’re teleporting, folks.”

“What if they trace it?”

“Watch me.”
And I put forth my power and appeared in the courtyard of Castle Black, where a guest is always safe, as I’ve good reason to know. I didn’t throw up, but the aftereffect of the teleport had me on my knees and the world spinning. Seeing the ground a mile below didn’t help, either, but
knowing I was safe, if only for a moment, more than made up for the discomfort.

After a time, I got to my feet and headed for the great double doors, my knees vibrating like Aibynn’s drum.

Matters of State II

L
ADY
T
ELDRA DIRECTED ME
to the third-floor study in the South Wing, where I found Morrolan closeted with Daymar, whom I mentioned earlier. Daymar was thin and angular, with the sharp nose, chin, and jawline of the House of the Hawk, softened by a broad forehead and wide-set eyes. Loiosh flew over to greet Morrolan. Rocza, oddly enough, flew over to Daymar, whom she had never met, and stayed on his shoulder for the entire conversation.

Morrolan and Daymar were hunched over a table. Between them was something that looked to be a large black jewel. They were poking at it and staring at it as if it were a small animal and they wanted to see if it was alive. I went over to the table myself, and it took them a few moments to notice me. Then Daymar looked up and said, “Oh, hello, Vlad.”

“Good morning. What is that?”

“That,” said Morrolan, “is black Phoenix stone.”

“Never heard of it,” I said.

“It is similar to gold Phoenix stone,” said Daymar helpfully.

“Yes,” I said. “Only black instead of gold.”

“Right,” said Daymar, not noticing my sarcasm.

“What is gold Phoenix stone?”

“Well,” said Daymar, “once we discovered the black, we started digging around in Morrolan’s library and found a few references to it.”

“Morrolan,” I said, “would
you
care to enlighten me?”

“Do you recall,” said Morrolan, “the difficulty we had with psionic contact on the island?”

“Yes. Daymar was cut off, as I recall.”

He looked up from scratching Rocza’s chin. “Not cut off,” he said. “I collapsed from the effort of maintaining contact.”

I stared at him. “You?”

“I.”

“My goodness.”

“Yes.”

Morrolan said, “The only place Phoenix stone occurs is on the eastern and southern coast of Greenaere. Essentially, no psychic activity can pass through the effect of the stone, and the concentration around the island is sufficient to make it unreachable.”

“Then why could Loiosh and I communicate?”

“Exactly,” said Morrolan. “That is, indeed, the question. The only idea I’ve been able to come up with is that the connection between witch and familiar is fundamentally different from psionic communication. But how it is different, I don’t know. I’d been planning to reach you, but since you are here, perhaps you’d be willing to assist us in a few experiments to determine exactly that.”

“I’m not sure I like this, boss.”

“You and me both, Loiosh.”
To Morrolan I said, “This may not be the best time.”

His eyebrows focused on me. “Why? Has something happened?”

“Oh, nothing. Another close brush with death, but what’s one more of those?”

For a moment he looked puzzled, trying to work out where the irony was, then he said, “Would you like some wine?”

“Love some. I’ll help myself.” I did so.

Morrolan said, “Tell me about it, Vlad.”

“Jhereg troubles.”

“Again?”

“Still.”

“I see.”

Daymar said, “Can I help?”

“No. Thanks.”

“Say, boss, doesn’t Aibynn have one of those things hanging around his neck?”

“Come to think of it, yes.”

“So
that’s
why I could never spot him.”

“Or anyone else on Greenaere, probably. Yeah.”

I turned back to Morrolan. “Where did you find this?”

Alittle Morrolan smile flitted across one side of his face. “Exploring,” he said.

“Where?”

“In the Imperial Dungeons.”

My heart started hammering. I said, “Cawti—”

“She’s fine. We didn’t actually speak much, but I saw her—”

“How did you—?”

“I was visiting the Palace, and I got lost, and about thirty Imperials got lost as well, and there I was.”

My hands were getting tired where I was gripping the chair. I relaxed them. “Did you speak at all?”

“I said hello, she looked surprised and nodded to me, by which time my guide was too nervous about the whole thing to keep me there. But I kept noticing these crystals about the place, so I acquired one on my way out.”

“But she seems well?”

“Yes. She seemed quite, um, spirited.”

“Did—damn. Wait a moment.” I grumbled, debated ignoring whoever it was, decided there was too much happening right now, and let my mental barriers down.

“Who is it?”

“Me, boss. Where are you? I can hardly maintain contact.”

“Just a moment, Melestav.”
I moved to the far side of the room, well away from the crystal.
“Is that better?”

“Some.”

“Okay. What is it? Can it wait?”

“Another messenger, boss.”
There was something odd in his tone. I said,
“Not from Toronnan this time?”

“No, boss. From the Empress. She wants to see you. Tomorrow.”

“The Empress?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Tomorrow is New Year’s day.”

“I know.”

“All right. I’ll talk to you later.”

I turned to Morrolan. “Can you think of any reason why the Empress would want to see me on New Year’s day?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Do you sing?”

“No.”

“In that case, it must be something important.”

“Oh, grand,” I said. “I can hardly wait.”

“In the meantime,” said Morrolan, “I just want to try a couple of things. I assure you there is no risk.”

“What the hell, boss? The worst that can happen is that it’ll kill us, and then we don’t have to worry about what the Empress is going to do.”