“Well?”
“Yes, Sire?”
“What have you been about?”
“My duty, Sire,” lied Khaavren, with a significant glance about him, asking if His Majesty really wished Khaavren to discuss the exact nature of his activities before the assembled court.
The Emperor harrumphed, and gave into Khaavren’s hand a piece of paper, adding the words, “Please see to this at once, if your duties will spare you long enough.”
Khaavren ignored His Majesty’s irony, and merely bowed and said, “Yes, Sire,” after which he backed away and retreated to the hall outside of the Portrait Room, where he broke the seal on the note and read it on the spot. As with Khaavren’s note to his servant, we will reproduce the text of it here:
“Order for Lord Khaavren, Captain of the Guard, to Arrest His Highness Adron e’Kieron, Duke of Eastmanswatch, etc. etc., At Once and Confine him in a Secure Place within the Iorich Wing, taking All Necessary Precautions against Escape or Undue Disturbance.”
Khaavren read the message again, and then a third time. Khaavren had had much experience in performing the necessary translation from the ciphers in which the most apparently simple order was couched—that is, he understood that a great deal could be conveyed in what was left unsaid, or in the precise wording of the orders His Majesty did him the honor to entrust to him, and what was said in this order was, indeed, enough to cause our Tiassa some unease.
By including his name, and even going so far as to use his title as well, Khaavren was being told that the responsibility for this order rested on his shoulders—he could delegate as much as he chose—but his position, perhaps even his head, would answer for the success or failure of this mission.
Next, there was the phrase, “At Once.” All orders were to be carried out at once; that His Majesty deigned to make this explicit indicated something of His Majesty’s state of mind, which would brook no delay for any reason.
Even more disturbing, however, was His Majesty’s use of the phrase, “Secure Place.” There was no reason to believe that any prison in the Iorich Wing was not secure—what this meant was that Khaavren would be held responsible, not only for arresting Lord Adron, but for seeing to it that Adron remained arrested; Khaavren had been given the responsibility that normally fell to the jailer. This was emphasized and even underlined by the remarks about escape and disturbance. His Majesty, then, feared an attempt would be made to rescue Lord Adron, or that social unrest might break out because of his arrest, and Khaavren was to be held responsible for all of this, as well.
It was, to be sure, no small task, and the phrase “at once” compounded the difficulty, because it meant he had precious little time to make preparations for any trouble that might ensue.
He stood for a moment, thinking, then carefully folded up his order and put it in his pocket. After this, he continued his contemplations. It was all very well for His Majesty to say, “At once,” but certain matters had to be considered. In the first place, how many men would he need to make the arrest? If Adron did not choose to resist, then none would be needed, but if Adron did resist, than, shards! all of his men at once, aye, and Stonemover’s as well, would not be sufficient. Well, then, he would assume Adron would not resist. If he guessed wrong, why, Adron would have him, that is, Khaavren, killed, and Khaavren would then have fallen honorably, although his mission would not have succeeded.
“But, my dear Captain,” he said to himself, “does that matter? Come, be honest, can you recall a mission you have set out upon with less joy in a hundred years? Arrest Lord Adron? Cha! I should more happily set him upon the—but stay, let us not contemplate treason, even in our most private thoughts. We have our orders, and we must carry them out, or fall nobly in the attempt; it is all one.” He shrugged philosophically, “Still, it is, without a doubt, a shame that, if I succeed, I shall be jailing, and, no doubt, helping to prepare the execution of, one of the first gentleman in the Empire. And, by the Gods, as much a shame that, if I fail, I will be denied further company of my Lady Daro.”
As he sub-vocalized this name, he felt a certain peculiar constricting in his chest, a sensation that all lovers will recognize at once; and which sensation, along with the thoughts it carried in its wake, brought a happy, if slightly dazed, expression to our Tiassa’s countenance. This expression, however, gradually changed to a frown, as the thought he allowed to grow within himself became stronger, and he realized more fully what he would be giving up along with his life. This induced a certain melancholy, which our brave Captain checked as soon as he became aware of it.
“Come now,” he told himself sternly. “Is happiness to make me craven? This cannot be allowed. No, no I must set about my mission directly, or resign my commission and become a hermit, which would be intolerable to one of my disposition.
“Well then, Khaavren my friend, onward, and meet your fate with your chin pointed forward, if not with your heart light. But what is this? More old friends approach. Ah, temptation steps onto my path!”
This was occasioned by the sight of Pel and Tazendra, who looked on him with expressions of unalloyed pleasure—pleasure which faded, or, as the sailors say, moderated as they approached, no doubt on observing that Khaavren appeared to be unhappy about something.
Nevertheless, Khaavren made an effort to be cordial. “Greetings, my good friends,” he said. “What brings you to the Palace?”
“Why, you do,” said Tazendra.
“You are looking for me?” said Khaavren.
“In fact,” said Pel, “more than looking for you; we have found you.”
“Come now,” said Tazendra to herself. “I think I have heard that phrase before.”
“And so you have,” said Khaavren, speaking, we hasten to add, to Pel, rather than to Tazendra. “And yet,” he continued, still speaking to Pel, “I confess, as much pleasure as your company brings me, I have little enough time to spare, for duty calls, and it is a duty that, if it affords me no joy, affords me even less time.”
“Where does your duty take you?” asked Pel. “For if we can accompany you on its first steps, well, that will allow us a few moments to converse with you, and will cost you no time at all, while satisfying all we desire.”
“It takes me,” said Khaavren, “in the first place, back to my offices in the Dragon Wing, and I can think of no reason why you cannot accompany me at least that far.”
“Then lead on,” said Pel, bowing.
“Yes,” said Tazendra. “For you always lead so charmingly.”
To this, Khaavren had no rejoinder, so he began walking toward the Dragon Wing. As he did, Pel said, “Come now, tell me what you can about this poor fellow who made an attempt on your life just two days ago.”
“Two days ago?” said Khaavren. “Is that all it was? Shards and splinters, but the days have been busy!”
“And like to become busier,” said Pel.
“I have no doubt you are right,” said Khaavren with a sigh.
“Nevertheless, I am interested in this circumstance, and, if you will relate all you know and have surmised about this fellow, well, Tazendra and I will have a look and see what we can learn about him.”
“It is easily done,” said Khaavren. “The more so because I was about to go to you and ask for your help in precisely this matter when I was interrupted, first by the outbreak of civil disorder, and then by other matters following quickly on the riot’s heels, so I am now delighted that you will agree to look into the matter, and I am anxious for any enlightenment you can bring me.” And he quickly related the observations and deductions he and Aerich had made with regard to the assassin, exactly as we have already had the honor of relating them to the reader, wherefore we will not take up the reader’s time by unnecessary and redundant repetition.
“Hmmm,” said Pel. “You have, in any case, given me something to look for.”
By this time, they had reached Khaavren’s offices, and the Captain said, “Here I must bid you farewell, for duty awai
ts, and it is a duty in which you cannot help me, nor, I think, would you wish to.” He paused and looked carefully into Pel’s eyes. “A very unpleasant duty. And I am certain you would not wish to help.”
“I see,” said the Yendi. “Yes, I see. Well, in that case, allow me to wish you the best of fortune, and we will be on our way.”
As his two friends left, Khaavren sat down to begin considering and then composing the orders that might protect the city against any disturbance triggered by the arrest of Lord Adron. But he had scarcely begun considering, and was nowhere near composing, when he was informed of visitors.
“Who?” he said laconically.
“The Lady Aliera and Sethra Lavode,” said the corporal on duty.
“Ah,” said Khaavren. “Well, they may enter.”
“My dear Captain,” said Sethra without preamble, speaking even as she crossed the threshold a step before Aliera. “My dear Captain, you have led us a merry chase.”
“In truth?”
“In truth. We have been here, and all the way back to the Imperial Wing, and around the rooms you are known to frequent, and once more to the Imperial Wing, and at last back here to your office, whence we started our search.”
“I am sorry,” said Khaavren, “to have discommoded you. Yet, as you know, my time is not my own. In fact, it is, at this moment, even less my own than usual, wherefore I’m afraid I can spare none of it for conversation, however pleasant that conversation might be.”
“Oh, we quite understand,” said Aliera. “Duty waits for no one.”
“Exactly.”
“Yet, it is duty that brings us here—in fact, your duty. Or, perhaps we ought to say, a certain duty you may have been assigned.”
Khaavren felt the blow in his heart, yet he gave no sign of it on his countenance. “A certain duty I may have been assigned? Come, what can you mean?”
“We will tell you,” said Aliera.
“I ask nothing better,” said Khaavren.
“Then attend.”
Sethra said, “We wish to know, insofar as you are allowed to tell us—”
“For,” put in Aliera, “you may not be allowed to tell us, and if you cannot speak of these matters, we understand and will not press you.”
“Yes, yes,” said Khaavren. “Go on.”
“You may have received certain orders,” Sethra began again. “And we wish to know—”
“If you are allowed to tell us,” put in Aliera, with a glance at the Enchantress of Dzur Mountain.
“—If you have been given these orders.”
“Well,” said Khaavren, still struggling to maintain his composure. “You perceive I am often given an order of which I am not allowed to speak—of which, in fact, it would be nothing short of treasonous to speak.”
“Yes,” said Aliera. “And if such is the case with these orders, well, we shall not require that you reveal them.”
“That … that is well,” said Khaavren.
“Nevertheless,” said Sethra, a trifle impatiently, “we wish to ask.”
“Oh, by all means,” said Khaavren. “Yes, certainly, you may ask.”
“Then we shall,” said Sethra.
“Do so,” said Khaavren.
“Have you then,” said Sethra, “been given any orders that—”
“Yes?” said Khaavren, who began to feel that the clasp of his uniform cloak, which was exactly as he’d worn it every day for five hundred and thirty years, was too tight. “Orders that—”
“Orders that have something to do with the Lady Aliera?”
Khaavren blinked and attempted to stall for time, hoping to think of some means out of the uncomfortable situation in which he found himself. “How, with the Lady Aliera?” said Khaavren. “Why, any orders might have something to do with the Lady Aliera, for her interests could lie anywhere, and I cannot know what might have something to do with her.”
“I meant,” said Sethra sharply, “more directly.”
“Well, that is—”
Aliera suddenly cut in, “Have you orders to arrest me, Captain? For, if so, I am here, and I have no intention of resisting, but will instead appeal, first of all, to my father, next to the Dragon Council, and then—”
Khaavren sprang to his feet. “Arrest you? That is what you think? You think I have been ordered to arrest you?”
“Why, we don’t think so, Captain,” said Sethra. “And yet, we know that Aliera has offended certain people, and we thought it possible—how, could it be, Captain, that you are laughing at me?”
Khaavren controlled himself and said, “Oh, not the least in the world, I assure you. And, moreover, I assure you that I have been given no orders to arrest the Lady Aliera. The Gods! If I had, I should have carried them out the instant you set foot in my office.”
“Well,” said Aliera, “I understand that.”
“As do I,” said Sethra.
“Then,” said Khaavren, sinking back into his chair with a feeling of immeasurable relief, “there is no more to be said, except that, indeed, there is much that needs to be done, and precious little time to do it, wherefore I am forced, if you will excuse me, to bid you both a good day.”
They bowed to the Captain, wished him well, promised to see him on another occasion, and took their leave. As the Captain turned once more to considering the orders he must write, and how to couch them in terms that would produce exactly the results he desired, allowing for the interpretations of Sergeant, subalterns, and corporals, we will follow Aliera and Sethra out into the wide hall before the entrance to the Guard’s sub-wing of the Dragon Wing, where they exchanged words that cannot fail to be of interest.
“What did you think?” said Aliera.
“He would not lie,” said Sethra. “Moreover, he was not lying. Nevertheless—”
“Yes, nevertheless, he was concealing something.”
“Indeed he was,” said Sethra. “And we should, no doubt, have discovered it if you been less insistent on that point of courtesy to which you kept returning. Should such a matter come up in the future, you would well advised—”
“Perhaps,” said Aliera with a shrug. “And yet, you will admit that it was hardly a mere point of courtesy. To an officer—”
“I give you my word,” said Sethra, “that I have been an officer, and I know what orders are. So, for that matter, does Lord Khaavren. He would have known perfectly well when to keep mum without—”
“Oh, of a certainty he would have known,” said Aliera. “But it seemed to me that he must know we understood, and were not attempting—”
“To let him know,” said Sethra. “Is one thing. Yet, by insisting, you prevented us from learning just what was on his mind, and I, for one, am curious. Just a few words from him would have been sufficient to have told me a great deal. I hope you remember this next time such a situation occurs.”
Aliera, who began to grow somewhat warm, said, “Then, if I understand you, it was all right to mention it, but not to continue repeating it to the point of becoming tedious?”
“Exactly.”
“As you are becoming tedious with your lesson?”
“You say I am tedious?” said Sethra coldly.
“The very word,” said Aliera.
“Perhaps it is required when dealing with a pupil who fails to understand what is so obvious—”
“I do not recall asking you to teach me anything.”
“Yet, my dear, you so clearly require it.”
“Then perhaps you would care to give me a lesson on another subject entirely?”
“I take your meaning,” said Sethra. “And I would be delighted.”
“Take care, however, that your pupil does not surpass you—the embarrassment might kill you.”
“I accept the risk. Come, there is a courtyard just through these doors, not a hundred meters from this spot, paved with flat stonework and altogether suitable.”
“I know it; a charming place. Let us find witnesses and a judge, neither of whom ca
n be far.”
“I would think they’d abound in such a place.”
“Indeed,” said Aliera, “here are two acquaintances who will serve admirably. Greetings, my dear Tazendra. Pel, allow me to name Sethra Lavode.”
For just a moment, the unflappable Yendi appeared taken aback. He recovered quickly, however, bowed, and said, “I am honored to meet you, madam. Indeed, I am.”
“And I to meet you,” said Sethra. “For all of your activities are not unknown to me, and those of which I have heard I honor.”
Pel bowed deeply, and seemed about to speak, but Aliera broke in, saying, “Perhaps you could perform a service for us. If you, Pel, would act as my friend, and if the good Tazendra will stand for Sethra Lavode, we have a matter—”
“Alas,” said Pel. “You have no time for such games; they must be postponed.”
“How?” said Aliera. “We have no time?”
“You in particular, Lady Aliera.”
“And yet, why not? I know of nothing that presses me so urgently that I cannot attend to the desires of my friend here for a few thrusts loyally given.”
“You cannot?” said Pel. “But I can.”
“Indeed? What is it, then?” said Aliera.
“Yes,” said Sethra. “I am also curious.”
“As am I,” said Tazendra.
“Then I will satisfy your curiosity. But, before I do so, I must ask a question.”
“If it will help,” said Aliera shrugging, “you may ask ten.”
“I have been waiting for you, Aliera, because, as I was leaving Khaavren’s office, I noticed you enter, along with this lady,” here he bowed, “whom I did not, I must confess, recognize.”
“Well, yes,” said Aliera, “we have seen Lord Khaavren.”
“And—forgive me if my question is indiscreet, but I assure you I have no choice—he made no indication that he might have intentions toward you? Intentions, that is, that fall within his capacity as Captain of the Guard?”
“You are asking,” stated Sethra, “if we are certain he has no intentions of arresting the Lady Aliera.”
“You are perspicacious,” said Pel, bowing.