“Oh, good. While you’re finding out, what are these interests of his? No, don’t tell me. He’s trying to solve the age-old problem of creating a place that exists across different worlds.”
I watched her closely and saw it hit. “You are not,” she said, “doing a very good job of convincing me you’re not a spy.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll try to do better.”
“Wait here.”
She collected her people with looks and led them out of the room, leaving the door open. I turned the chair again. If it was a test to see if I’d try to escape, I passed, but that’s because I had no interest in leaving. If it was a test to see if I’d refrain from looking through the desk drawers, I failed.
“Keep a watch, Loiosh.”
“On it, Boss.”
I got up, went around to the front, and checked for obvious traps on the desk drawers. I didn’t see any, nor any locks. I opened the one on the upper right and had just enough time to see a stack of identical papers labeled “Requisition” when Loiosh said, “Someone’s coming.”
I returned to the chair just as Gormin walked into the room. I managed to cover my reaction by stretching and coughing, then stood up and gave him a head bob.
It seemed strange that he didn’t seem to recognize me. Yes, I understand he couldn’t, that to him we hadn’t met; but it still seemed strange. I said, “How do you do, I am Vlad of Szurke. Szurke is an Eastern County under the seal of the Empire.” I dug out my ring and showed it to him, and his eyes widened appropriately, and he bowed. My thinking was that the better terms I was on with this guy, the more information I could get about the place.
“Sir,” he said. “If you wish to accompany me, I will show you where you may take your ease.”
“Will there be food?”
“Shut—actually, yeah, good question.”
“Will there be food?”
“Of course, sir. I’ll bring you something as soon as you’re settled.”
“I might live after all.”
I followed him out into the corridor. “I am instructed,” he said, “to let you know that you are free to visit any room along this hallway, save the lieutenant’s office when she’s not there. This is the library, where you may find something to divert you. This will be your bedchamber, should you be with us overnight.”
“How very civilized,” I said. He didn’t know how to take that, so he didn’t respond.
He showed me into a small withdrawing room, complete with chairs and tables. “If you care to wait, I will bring refreshment.”
“Tell him to hurry.”
“No.”
There wasn’t much to see in this room, so I concentrated all of my attention on how hungry I was. After about twenty minutes and a thousand years, Gormin returned with a tray balanced on one hand and a napkin wrapped around his other arm, with a wine bottle in the free hand. I started salivating.
He set the tray on the table with almost the flourish of a Valabar’s waiter. “Rice and vegetable soup,” he said. “Sliced kethna in cream sauce. Cherry tubers covered in corn meal and roasted, and a poppy-seed roll.”
“Thanks,” I said.
He didn’t show me the bottle, but he did announce it as a ’31 Khaav’n, and poured it.
It was the same sort I’d found in the cellar at the manor; for all I knew, it was out of the same cask.
Gormin bowed and left. Loiosh, Rocza, and I attacked the food without ceremony. It takes real skill to time peas in soup so they are at the point of maximum sogginess but haven’t yet fallen apart, and drying out kethna that much isn’t as easy as you’d think. I devoured everything, and even sopped up the too-sweet soup with the flavorless bread. It was wonderful. While Loiosh and Rocza licked the crumbs off the plate, I enjoyed the wine. Now that I could concentrate on it properly, it was good, one of those red wines that are almost purple and that experts describe as “full-bodied”—as opposed to, I don’t know, skinny wines. Anyway, I liked it, and had another glass, and then Gormin returned.
“Have a chair,” I said.
“Sir,” he replied with a bow and remained standing.
“Okay, then,” I said. “What now?”
“Sir?”
“Am I going to be interrogated again?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir.”
Loiosh stumbled on my shoulder, then caught himself.
“Loiosh? Are you all right?”
Rocza stumbled.
I looked at Gormin. “You son of a bitch,” I said, and let a dagger fall into my hand, which then continued unceremoniously onto the floor, where it stuck. Nice point on that one, I thought.
He took a step back and the light from the candles on the mantelpiece got in my eyes expanded turned thin and became strips turning back on themselves brush of cloth over my face a soft breeze makes the hiss of wet charcoal as the lines go sideways now and maybe I can control them make them slow slow a voice a yell steel screeches a piercing sound that turns blue in the bitter taste of coffee that’s too old and too strong and too busy to sort things out make the lines change wider or thinner still nothing voices all blending maybe if it would just go dark yes yes dark working quiet want quiet voices fading no! Verra leave me alone alone just me not just me why is my heart pounding head pounding are my eyes even open foul stench of jhereg shit Loiosh! “Loiosh!” “We’re okay.” “What…” What was I saying thinking doing seeing no it was okay Loiosh was fine something there focus concentrate concentrate focus focus focus.
There were four of them. Three of them. Four of them. It was hard to tell with the room spinning so hard. I tried again to pull a dagger and succeeded in holding on to it, held it out in front of me as menacingly as I could manage. I tried to say something threatening, but realized that the only thing coming out of my mouth was saliva.
Two of them. There were two, and they were both standing there, armed, but hadn’t attacked me yet. Why? My head was a little less fuzzy, but my eyes and hands didn’t want to do what they were told. No, there were three of them, but one was the officer, standing in back, waiting.
She said, “Can you take him?” but she’d said it seconds ago, and it was only now penetrating my brain. I felt myself getting dizzier and thought I was going to pass out, and somewhere in there realized I was still in the chair.
I dropped the dagger—this time on purpose—and drew Lady Teldra. I felt an odd jolt travel up my arm to my head and then it seemed like there was a sparkly, bright blanket being thrown over me and—
Loiosh was nuzzling my ear.
“Boss?”
“Are you okay?”
“We’re fine. It made us woozy for a bit. And incontinent. And they had to clean it up.”
I opened my eyes. I was in the same room, the same chair, but the dishes and the wine bottle had been taken away.
“How long was I out?”
“A few hours.”
“What did they do?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Boss, your hand?”
I looked at it, blinked, and then started to re-sheathe Lady Teldra, then stopped because holding her made me feel better. “What—”
“They wanted to question you.”
“Oh. How did that work out for them?”
“They eventually decided to just let you sleep.”
I felt stiff and uncomfortable, like I’d fallen asleep in a chair, maybe because I had. Also, my head felt like it wasn’t fully connected to my body. After a few more minutes, I went ahead and sheathed Lady Teldra, and it took work; my hand was shaking. I wanted to get up and escape, but I was in no shape to walk, much less fight if—
“Anyone guarding the door?”
“I’ve heard some shuffling and throat clearing. It sounds like there are two of them.”
I closed my eyes and tried taking a few deep breaths to see if that would clear my head. I woke up sometime later after a confused dream in which it was very important to light some cha
rcoal on fire and it was raining.
“Loiosh?”
“A couple of hours. There was a guard change outside the door. Definitely two of them.”
I tried standing up, keeping a grip on the chair. My knees were a bit wobbly, but they held me, so I tried a few steps. Not bad. I went back and forth a few more times, and started feeling like, if there came an argument, I would have at least as good a chance of hurting the other guy as myself.
I quickly ran through the list of poisons I knew about. I didn’t know all of them, but I knew many; had even used one once. I don’t care for poison: people react to it too differently for it to be reliable, and it’s much too easy to accidentally poison the wrong target. To the left, however, it has the advantage that you can be leagues away at the time of death. So, let me see: joflower requires much stronger-tasting food to hide it in. So do cyanide and sandsnail venom. Buttonweed was possible, except I’d still be waiting for it to work. I tested my tongue to see if there was any aftertaste. There wasn’t, so that eliminated a few others. Hmmm. Strange.
“Maybe they weren’t trying to kill you?”
“Then—oh. Yeah. Good point.”
There were things I’d heard of, though never used, that could supposedly make someone drowsy and pliable and willing to answer questions. I should have thought of that right away, and probably would have if whatever was used on me hadn’t fogged up my head. Still, a gutsy move to try it on an Easterner; they can’t have known if or how well it would work on me. There must be something they wanted to know very badly. Well, okay, there were things I wanted to know very badly as well.
“You two sure you’re all right?”
“We’re fine, Boss.”
“Okay. This might be boring, but it might not be.”
His only answer was to squeeze my shoulder.
I checked that my rapier was loose, tapped Lady Teldra’s hilt, and opened the door.
Yes, there were two of them, just across the hall, facing the door. I recognized them from earlier: one was the guy who’d been eyeing me curiously, the other was Trev, who said, “My lord, if you would care to wait, I’ll fetch someone.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’re welcome to leave. We have no orders to stop you.”
“Maybe I want to explore.”
Her eyes darted to Lady Teldra, but it was only a flick, then she said. “If you go beyond the limits, I’ll stop you.”
“Think so?”
“Yes.”
The guy was playing the “solid, silent partner ready to assist” bit, right down to the set of his jaw and the puffed-up chest. It was obvious that they’d both been in the room when Lady Teldra was out, and they’d both wear Purple Robes before they’d let me see how terrified they were.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll wait.”
I went back into the room, moved the chair so it was facing the open door, and sat down. The guy went off to get someone while Trev waited. I was bored and, yeah, I admit it, a little nervous for about ten minutes, then I heard the gentle tromp-tromp-tromp of many people in heavy boots. Either things were about to get interesting, or things were about to get interesting.
I stood up as Gormin appeared in the door—I confess, he wasn’t who I expected. I saw the lieutenant over his shoulder, and there were a few others. Gormin turned, nodded to the lieutenant, then came in and closed the door. I sat down again and said, “Have a seat.”
“Sir,” he said, and remained standing.
I crossed my legs. “Why do you call me sir?”
“Sir?”
“Why ‘sir’ and not ‘my lord’ or something?”
“Sir? I don’t—”
“There’s obviously a subtle difference. I was called ‘my lord’ by someone else. Yet another said, ‘m’lord’ like it was all one word. Why? What does it mean?”
“I hardly know how—” He stopped and looked puzzled. It was like I’d asked him how he managed to move his arm.
“Okay,” I said. “Skip that. Why are you dressed as a Teckla?”
He stared at me.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “You think I can’t tell an Issola when one is being polite to me?”
“I am,” he said slowly and distinctly, “of the House of the Teckla, sir.”
“But you weren’t born into it.”
“Sir, may I request we speak of other things?”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself. Who is Klaver?”
I suppose it was a cruel game I played with him, but he’d tried to drug me, so I wasn’t overwhelmed with sympathy. He was by this time so confused he said, “A Vallista, sir. A rival of Lord Zhayin’s, who is determined to learn Zhayin’s secrets.”
“But Zhayin hasn’t solved his problem yet, so how can he?”
“Sir—”
“Well?”
“I don’t know. I imagine he can’t.”
“Then it would be stupid to think I’m working for him, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t—I suppose.”
“Am I going to meet Zhayin?”
“I don’t think so, sir. He’s very—”
“What of his wife?”
Sweat appeared on his forehead. “His wife, sir?”
“Yes. Perhaps I could meet the Lady Zhayin?”
“She—I—sir.”
“Yes?”
“She is no longer with us.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“There was an accident.”
“Involving Tethia?”
One way I’d known he was an Issola was the way he stood: like someone had shoved a stick up his ass but he’d learned to relax that way. Suddenly the relaxation was gone, and he was standing even straighter. “How do you know of her?” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.
I shrugged. “You know. Word gets around.”
“Sir—”
“What sort of accident was it?”
“I could hardly say, sir.”
He was recovering.
“Where did it happen?”
He stiffened again. “Why would you ask that, sir?”
“Just curious. The bedroom? The bath? Out riding?”
“I really shouldn’t say.”
“The Halls of Judgment?”
He started coughing.
“Careful, mate. Don’t hurt yourself. Want some water? Maybe some wine? I can leave the drugs out of it if you’d like.”
He turned and left, looking like he was about to get sick. I guess Issola, or Issola-turned-Teckla, don’t like to do that in front of people. And actually, I’d lied to him: I didn’t have any wine to offer.
“Boss? How did you know she died in the Halls of Judgment?”
“I didn’t. It was a guess. Sort of. But if I ask about Tethia, and I’m answered about the death of her mother, then time is doing something weird. So, where does time get weird?”
“Okay. But I don’t see how that makes sense of things.”
“It doesn’t. It makes even less sense now.”
“Oh. Good. As long as we’re making progress.”
I considered whether to wait for Gormin, or maybe someone else, or whether I should just set out and explore, or maybe just leave. I mean, the whole “sixty hours” thing went under the hill when they drugged me, right? I didn’t know what to explore for anyway, and if I did set out, things would likely get bloody. How weird would it be if I killed Gormin, whom I’d met, I don’t know, some few hundreds of years in the future? I hadn’t even thought about that until now, and I had actually thought about killing him when I realized what he’d pulled on me. Now, though—yeah, maybe just leaving was the right move. What happens when you make something impossible happen? Is that how you make a path through time? I shook my head. That didn’t seem likely, but neither did I have enough information to make a good guess about how likely or unlikely something was.
I stood up and walked out the door, nodded to the two guards. They nodded back, looking wary but deter
minedly not frightened. As I was making up my mind what to do, three Teckla in Vallista livery, none of whom I recognized, walked in front of me holding covered trays. I smelled strong spices and something that reminded me of watermelon. They continued down the hall, unlocking a door just before the lieutenant’s office, going through it. I heard it lock behind them.
“What’s through there?” I asked.
“Couldn’t say,” said Trev.
“Mind if I look?”
“I’m afraid that’s not permitted.”
I thought about making an issue of it. At a guess, Zhayin and perhaps Discaru and maybe a few others were in a dining room that way. But I wasn’t sure what I could learn from them now that I couldn’t learn just as well later. And I was getting a little tired of wandering aimlessly around hallways.
“Maybe you should escort me out and I’ll be on my way,” I said.
“We’ll be happy to,” said Trev, which I was pretty sure was just honesty.
She took the lead, the guy followed me. “Watch your distance,” said Trev.
I was shown out the door, feeling like I’d missed a chance to learn some important things, but not sure what I should have done differently. I wished I could have explored the place a little more. I looked around, noting what I could about the area and the castle. Even the outside might have told me something.
It still might.
“Loiosh?”
“Yes!”
“Then … now.”
I let a dagger fall into my hand and reversed it. There was flapping and cursing behind me. Trev was already drawing when she turned, and took a backward step; but I was moving by that point. I closed the distance and caught her on the chin with the pommel. I turned to see Loiosh and Rocza in the other guy’s face, biting at him, flapping their wings, staying out of the way of his flailing steel. They were both pretty good at this game by now.
“Drop your weapon,” I said. “Or die. I’m good either way.”
He called me a bad name, still swinging his weapon.
“Back off, give him a chance to surrender if he wants to.”
They returned to my shoulder. At the same time, I dropped the dagger and drew my rapier, then advanced so that by the time he faced me I was already inside his guard. He froze, I froze, and he called me another bad name.