The Book of Taltos (50 page)

“A point,”
I said, and told Morrolan to go ahead.

T
HE NEXT DAY WAS
the first day of the Month of the Phoenix, in the Year of the Dzur, during the Phase of the Yendi in the Reign of the Phoenix, Cycle of the Phoenix, Great Cycle of the Dragon, which is why most of us say the year 244 after the Interregnum.

I was off to the Imperial Palace. Happy New Year.

If you’re sitting on the edge of your chair waiting to hear what the Imperial Palace was like, you’re in for a disappointment; I don’t remember. It was big and impressive and was built by people who know how to do things big and impressive, and that’s all I remember. I was there just past noon, all dressed up in my Jhereg colors, with my boots brightly polished, my cloak freshly cleaned, and a jerkin that fairly glittered. I had found my pendant of office and put it around my neck; just about the first time I’d worn it since I’d
inherited it. I had thought for a long time about leaving Loiosh behind, and he’d politely refrained from the conversation, but in the end I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so he sat proudly on my right shoulder. Rocza, who
had
been left behind, wasn’t very happy about it, but there are limits to how much of an outrage I wanted to be the first time I officially appeared before the Empress.

Appear before the Empress.

I was a Jhereg, the scum of society, and an Easterner, the scum of the world. She sat with the Orb revolving about her head, in the center of the Empire, and at her command was all the power of the Great Sea of Chaos, as well as all the military might of the Seventeen Houses. She had survived Adron’s Disaster, and braved the Paths of the Dead, rebuilding, almost overnight, an Empire that had fallen to ruin. Now she wanted to see me, and you think I was in shape to take notes on architecture?

I’d seen her once before, but that was in the Iorich Wing, when I’d been questioned concerning the death of a high noble of the House of the Jhereg. It seems that a minor boss in the Organization, a certain Taishatinin or something, had bought himself a Dukedom in the House and then proceeded to get himself killed. I can’t imagine why he wanted it except perhaps to feed his self-esteem, but there it was; he was a Duke, and when a Duke is murdered, the Empire investigates.

And somehow my name came up, and, after spending a couple of weeks in the Imperial Dungeons, I was ordered to testify “Under the Orb,” with the Empress there to observe, and all these peers of House Jhereg who had no power at all in the running of the Organization. I was asked things like, “When did you last see him alive?” and I’d say, “Oh, I don’t know; he was always pretty dead,” and they’d rebuke me sternly. They asked my opinion as to who killed him and I said that I believed he had killed himself. The Orb showed that I was telling the truth, and I was; messing with me the way he’d been doing was like asking to die. The only time the Orb caught me lying was when I made some remark about how overwhelmed I was to be speaking before such an august assembly.

I remember catching a glimpse or two of the Empress, seated behind me to my left, and wondering what she thought of the whole thing. I thought
she was pretty for a Dragaeran, but I don’t remember any of the details, except for her eyes, which were gold.

This time I noticed a little more. After a vague period of feeling as if I were being handed from one polite functionary to another, and in which I gave my name and titles more times than I had in the last year put together, I was allowed into the Imperial throne room, and then I heard my name, stepped forward, and became aware of myself and my surroundings for the first time that day. Globes and candles were lit, and the place was full of aristocrats, all in a festive mood, or pretending to be in a festive mood.

I was aware of her, too. She wore a gown that was the color of her eyes and hair, and her face was heart-shaped, her brows high and fine. I stood before her in the Hall of the Phoenix. Her throne was carved of onyx and traced with gold in the representations of all Seventeen Houses. I instinctively looked for the Jhereg, and saw part of a wing near her right hand. I also discerned unobtrusive black cushions on the throne and didn’t know whether to be amused or not.

The seneschal announced me and I stepped forward, giving her the best courtesy I knew how to give. Loiosh had to adjust himself to keep from falling off, but did so, I think, fairly gracefully.

“We give you welcome, Baronet Taltos,” she said. Her voice was just a voice; I mean, I don’t know what I expected, but I was surprised when she sounded like someone you’d meet at the market pricing coriander.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I ask only to serve you.”

“Indeed, Baronet?” She seemed amused. “I suspect the Orb would detect a falsehood there. You are usually more careful in your evasions.”

She remembered.

“It is a pleasure not to have to dissemble before Your Majesty,” I said. “I prefer to lie directly.”

She chuckled, which didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was the lack of scandalized murmuring from the faceless courtiers behind me. Perhaps they knew their Empress. She said, “We must speak together. Please wait.”

“I am at your service, Majesty.”

As I’d been coached, I stepped backward seventeen steps, and then to the side. I wondered if watching an hour or so of Imperial business would be boring or if it would be interesting. In fact, it was startling, because I had
momentarily forgotten the festivities, and the first thing I noticed was Aibynn holding his drum to the side and speaking with the singer I recognized, and someone I didn’t know who was holding an instrument similar to the Eastern Hej’du.

I went over and said hello. Aibynn seemed faintly surprised to see me, but also distracted. Thoddi was more gregarious, and introduced me to the other musician, an Athyra whose name was Dav-Hoel.

“So, there are three of you now,” I remarked to Thoddi.

“Actually there should be four of us, but Andler refused to play before the Empress.”

“Refused?”

“He’s an Iorich, and he’s upset about, you know, the conscription in South Adrilankha, and the Phoenix Guards, and that kind of thing.”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” I said. Thoddi nodded as if he understood, which I doubted. “Anyway,” I said, “good luck.”

Shortly after that, they were called on. Thoddi began to sing some old tavern song about making candles, full of innuendo and bad rhymes, but I watched Aibynn. He had the same dreamy smile as always, as if he were hearing something you couldn’t hear, or seeing something through his half-shut eyes that you couldn’t see.

Or knew something you didn’t know.

Such as, for instance, that he was about to assassinate the Empress.

“He’s going to do it, Loiosh.”

“I think you’re right, boss.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Can you think of any way to leave?”

“Well, no.”

“What do we do?”

“You come up with a plan. I’m fresh out.”

I watched with a horrified fascination as Aibynn began to move, the drum cradled against his left side. He spun in place for a while, then began to dance out and back as the singing died and they just played. Was he moving closer to the Empress? I tore my eyes away from him and saw her having a low-voiced discussion with a lady of the House of the Tiassa. The Empress smiled, and though she spoke with the Tiassa, her eyes were on the musicians.
She had a good smile. I wondered if it was true, the tavern gossip about a lover who was an Easterner.

Aibynn was, yes, closer now. If he had concealed a knife, or a dart, or a blowgun, he could hardly miss, and no one was near him. I began to move forward. I glanced back at the Empress, and she was looking at me now. I stopped where I was, unable to move, my heart thundering. She smiled at me, just a little, and almost imperceptibly shook her head. What was she thinking? Did she think that
I
 . . . ?

The song ended on a roll of the drum and a clatter of the lant-like instrument Thoddi played, and the musicians bowed. Aibynn returned to the side, and they started another song, an instrumental piece I didn’t know. I stepped backward, shaking and confused. What had just happened? What had almost happened? How much had I imagined?

Dav-Hoel’s instrument teased the melody the same way Aibynn’s drum was teasing the rhythm. On the other hand, I wished they’d just play the song, but everyone else seemed very impressed, and the Empress looked positively excited. I’ve never been very knowledgeable about music.

After that they did a silly song about snuff, then an instrumental they introduced as the Madman’s Dance, and then Loiosh said,
“Boss, wake up! The Empress!”

“Huh? Oh.”
She was gesturing to me, still looking amused.

I came forward, bowed once more, and she said, “Come with me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She stood, stretched quite unselfconsciously, threw a purse to the musicians, and went behind the throne through a curtained doorway. I followed, feeling self-conscious enough to make up for both of us. She turned back to me and nodded that I was to catch up to her. I did, and the four of us, the Empress Zerika, the Orb, Loiosh, and I, walked together in silence. Was it stranger for her to be walking with a Jhereg, a jhereg, or an Easterner? On the other hand, if it was true that she had a human lover—

She caught me staring at her and I turned away, feeling myself blushing.

“You were thinking improper thoughts about your Empress?” she said in a voice that sounded more amused than offended.

“Just speculating on rumors, Your Majesty.”

“Ah. About an Eastern lover?”

“Um, yeah.”

“It’s true,” she said. “His name is Laszlo. He isn’t my lover because he is an Easterner, nor despite it. He is my lover because I love him, and he is an Easterner because that is the house in which his soul resides.”

I licked my lips. “How can you read my thoughts without my familiar catching you at it?”

She laughed, just a little. “By watching your face, and by guessing. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

“That’s all?”

“It is often enough. For example, I saw you try to foil an attempt on my life that was not going to take place. Had you forgotten the Orb, which protects the life of the Emperor?”

I blushed once more. I
had
forgotten. To cover, I said, “It hasn’t always worked.”

“You,” she said, “are not Mario. And neither is your friend from Greenaere.”

“Then I imagined the whole thing?”

“Yes.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“You were not troubling to keep your worries from your countenance, and you
are
an assassin.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes,” she said, “you.”

There was nothing to say to that, so I said nothing. We went around a corner and through more plain white halls. She said, “For some reason, I do my best thinking when walking right here.”

“Like a Tiassa,” I said without thinking.

“What?”

“Excuse me, Your Majesty. Something I heard somewhere: Tiassa think walking, Dragons think standing, Lyorn think sitting, and Dzur think afterward.”

She chuckled. “And when do you think, good Jhereg?”

“All the time, Your Majesty. I can’t seem to help it.”

“Ah. I know the feeling.” We walked some more. She seemed very casual with me, but there was the Orb, circling her head slowly as we walked, and
changing color occasionally; from the murky brown a few moments ago to a calm blue. I wondered if she was deliberately trying to confuse me.

“You are a very unusual man, Baronet Vladimir Taltos,” she said suddenly. “You bring someone you think might be an assassin into the Empire and allow him to appear before me, and yet you were ready to act to protect me when you thought he might really do something.”

“How did you know he is from Greenaere?”

“I suspected it when I found him psychically blank. I checked with the Orb, and there are memories recorded of the sort of clothes he wears and the type of drum he plays.”

“I see. Your Majesty, why did you summon me?”

“To see what you looked like. Oh, I remembered you faintly, from your skillful dancing around the truth during a certain murder inquiry. But I wanted to know a little better the man who threatened his own House representative right on the Palace grounds, and whose wife is best friends with my Heir.”

I chuckled at that, remembering the nature of that friendship.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “I know all about it.”

“How?”

She shook her head. “Norathar has told me nothing. But I am, after all, the Empress. I suspect I have a better spy network even than you do, Lord Taltos.”

Ouch. “I wouldn’t doubt it, Your Majesty.” What
didn’t
she know? Did she know, for example, that I was the one who had started the war with Greenaere? Probably not, or I’d be in the cell next to Cawti. “Is this how you usually spend the New Year’s festivities, Your Majesty?”

“It is when we are threatened with war, and simultaneously with rebellion. I worry about these things, Baronet, and decisions must be made—such as if I am to step down and let the House of the Dragon take the Orb. I will spend today seeing everyone who I think may have a role to play in all of this.”