Page 17 of Orca


  This was all news to me. I said, “I’m not convinced.”

  “You have a devious mind.”

  “It goes with the job.”

  “Do you have any evidence? Any reason to think so?”

  “Just a feeling. That’s why I wanted to find out if you’d had any ideas about it.”

  “No.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  We were heading back in the general direction from which we’d come. He said, “So, all right, what is it you wanted? You had me make contact with you for some reason, and so far all we’ve done is chat, along with a warning so general there’s no point in giving it, and a question you could have had a messenger ask. What are you after?”

  Damn. I had certainly given him too much time to think. I said, “There’s someone who knows too much about what you’re doing, and I can’t find him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that something’s slipped, and I’m pretty sure it’s at the top, or near the top at any rate. I’m running into opposition, and I can’t pin it down.”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t run into it yet. The only suspicious action I’ve seen so far has been you and your friend Margaret.”

  Damn again. That wasn’t the sort of thing I wanted him thinking about.

  “Look,” I said, “I’m going to have to trust you.”

  “Trust all you want,” he said. “I haven’t shut you down, but I’m not under your orders.”

  He was ahead of me again.

  “And now I want a few answers.”

  And gaining.

  “Your friend Margaret claimed to have a certain hold on me.”

  “The letters. Yes. They’re real.”

  “I told her then they wouldn’t go very far, and this is as far as they go. Exactly who do you work for, and what is yourjob?”

  “I know your job, friend Loftis; but if you want to put everything out in front, then let’s hear you say who you work for.” As I said that, I was desperately trying to remember the names of the different groups you’d mentioned, and figure out which one I could most reasonably claim to be part of.

  “Heh. I am a lieutenant in the Imperial Army, Corps of the Phoenix Guards, Special Tasks Group.”

  “And you know bloody well that wasn’t my question.”

  “Are all Easterners psychically invisible, or just you? And is that why you were hired, or is it just a bonus?”

  “It helps,” I said.

  “Exactly what are you after?”

  “I’ve told you that.”

  “Yes, you have, haven’t you? You’ve told me just about everything my heart could desire, haven’t you?”

  I shook my head. “Play all the games you want, Loftis, but I don’t have time to muck around, not if I’m going to do what I was sent here to do.”

  “Shall we get something to eat?” he said.

  Add another damn or two. He was pulling all of my tricks, and he was better at them than I was—which I suppose only made sense. I said, “I’ve been told that Undauntra always wanted her troops to fight hungry, whereas Sethra Lavode always wanted hers to fight with a full meal in them.”

  “I’ve heard that, too,” he said. “But it isn’t true. About Sethra, that is.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. I’m also told that when a Jhereg boss hires an assassin, the deal is usually made during a meal.”

  “I can believe that.”

  “And I happen to know that there is a curious custom in parts of the East of making a big ceremony out of the last meal someone eats before he’s executed. He’s given pretty much anything he wants, and it’s prepared and served quite carefully, and then they kill him. Isn’t that odd?”

  “I suppose, but I think it’s rather nice, actually.”

  I shook my head. “If I were about to be executed, I either wouldn’t be able to eat, or I’d lose the meal on the way to the Executioner’s Star, or the gallows, or the Pilgrim’s Block, or wherever they were to lead me.”

  “I see your point,” he said. “But I think I’d like the meal, anyway.”

  “Well, perhaps I would, too.”

  “There’s got to be someplace around here.”

  We stopped at the first place we came to, which meant nothing since he’d been leading the way. It was marked by a sign that was so faded I couldn’t make it out, and reached from the street by walking down three steps below a hostel. It had probably been on the street level a few hundred years earlier—it seemed old enough, at any rate.

  “ What do you think, Loiosh ? “

  “I don’t like it, boss. There’s no one hanging around outside, but he had plenty of time to set something up before we got here.”

  “Good point.”

  “If you want to make a break, I can keep him busy.”

  “No. I’m going to run with it.”

  “Boss—”

  “Stay alert.”

  The ceiling was low, the stone walls were damp, and the place was dark enough to be irritating—I suspected that, except for sinking, it hadn’t changed much in quite some time. There was a big table with two long benches, about half of which were occupied by tradesmen, and a few isolated tables scattered about the room. We sat at one of those. It was toward the back, and Loftis could watch the front door while I watched the curtained-off doorway that presumably led to a private room of some sort. I could have made an issue about this—in fact, I was almost tempted to since I didn’t have Loiosh with me—but I still had some faint hopes of convincing him that the story we’d given was true.

  “What do you recommend?” I asked.

  “I don’t know; I’ve never been here before.”

  After too long, we realized that no one was going to bring us anything, so we went up to the bar and acquired a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, two bowls of fish stew, glasses, spoons, a wooden platter to carry them all on. I did the paying, he did the carrying. We brought the stuff back to the table, sat down, poured, and sampled.

  “The stew is too salty,” suggested Loftis.

  “The bread’s all right.”

  “Better than the stew,” he agreed.

  “Or the wine,” I added.

  “I was thinking about bringing you in,” he said.

  “Do you have better wine than this?”

  “A little better. Not enough to get excited about. The trouble is, we can’t find your friend.”

  “You just haven’t looked hard enough.”

  “Oh?”

  “I know some excellent Eastern wines.”

  “Make a list of them for me. And while you’re filling it out, maybe you can write down an address where I can find dear Margaret.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that. But I don’t feel too bad for you. You can’t have been looking for more than half an hour. What do you expect? Searches and wines take time to mature.”

  “Wines do, certainly. But searches can be helped. And I’d take it as a personal favor.”

  “How about if I just pay for the next bottle of wine, instead?”

  “That’s a thought. You don’t seem worried, Padraic. Is that your real name, by the way?”

  “I don’t remember anymore.”

  “Too much wine can do that to one’s memory.” He poured me some more. “You probably should be worried, though. Because, when I say that I might have to bring you in—”

  “Please,” I said. “Don’t ruin the surprise. Or the meal, for that matter.”

  “You know, I can’t even eat this stew. I wonder if they have anything else.”

  “I wouldn’t risk it if they did. We got what they recommended; what do you suppose the inferior stuff is like?”

  “Good point. Who did you say you’re working for?”

  “An unnamed Imperial group, devoted to the interests of the State.”

  “Excellent. I believe you, too. Only, I will require some form of identification, or a contact in the Imperial Palace, or a Signet.”

  I poured h
im some wine. “That could be problematical,” I said.

  “Yes. What exactly are you trying to do?”

  “There’s an old lady whose land is being taken away from her. We’re trying to find out who owns the land so we can buy it for her, but the company is out of business. She’s being evicted, you see—”

  He held up his hand. “Say no more,” he said. “Just give me her name, and I’ll see that it’s taken care of.”

  The worst of it was that he might be able to, and perhaps he even would; but I couldn’t count on it, and I certainly couldn’t give him any help in tracking you down, Kiera; especially after all the work I’d just gone through to destroy all the work you’d done in setting this up. I said, “I can’t seem to remember, just at the moment. It must be the wine.”

  “Probably.”

  “Boss, there are a couple of blades I don’t recognize outside the door.”

  “Outside the door? What are they doing?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were getting ready to go charging in.”

  “Oh.”

  Loftis sighed and pushed the food away. “Execrable,” he said. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Under the table, I let a dagger fall into my left hand, and made sure my sword was loose in its sheath. “You could paint me blue and trade me for bagpipes.”

  “Yes, that would be an option. But I’m afraid, as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing a meal with you, I’m going to have to insist on your accompanying me back to a place where I’m better equipped to get answers to questions.”

  “Damn,” I said. “I just remembered. My niece is getting married this evening, and I have to pick out some new clothes, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it today.”

  “Oh, I’m sure your niece will understand. Just what was her name, and where might I find her?” He smiled, then the smile went away and he looked at me very hard. “There are really only a couple of questions I need answered, but I do need them answered. Do you understand?”

  I matched his stare.

  He said, “Who do you work for, and what are you trying to accomplish? If you give me those answers, maybe we can work something out. If you don’t, I’m going to have to start squeezing you.”

  “It isn’t going to happen,” I said.

  “Boss, they’re coming in!”

  I rose to my feet, and I had my weapon halfway out when two men came through the curtain I was facing. I stepped to the side so Loftis couldn’t get an easy shot at me and flipped my dagger at one of them; when he flinched, I lunged for the other one, knocking his weapon out of line and nailing him in the throat. I risked a quick glance toward the door, and then saw the other two, who were looking a little startled to see me noticing them and smiling; Loftis was now on his feet, too, and he had a weapon out, but he was looking at the pair who’d come through the door. He was facing away from me, so I couldn’t see his expression, nor did I have time for a close look, because there was still the one I’d thrown my knife at. But Loftis did take the time to look at me, and there was no particular expression in that look. He said, “He didn’t break the stick,” which was just damned informative, but I didn’t have the time to ask for an explanation.

  As I turned back to the one I’d distracted, he made a break to get past me; that was fine, they could all run away as far as I was concerned.

  Only he didn’t run away.

  He got past me, then he buried his sword in Loftis’s skull, then he kept running out the door. The other two followed behind; they were gone before I realized it.

  “Boss?”

  “Don’t worry, Loiosh. They weren’t after me.”

  “They weren’t?”

  “Right. On the other hand, I suppose that means you can go ahead and worry.”

  Everyone in the room was staring at Loftis, and there was no sound, until the Dragonlord dropped his weapon, which made an appalling clamor as it hit the floor.

  He turned very slowly and looked at me; there was an expression of surprise on his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it. I could see the muscles of his neck straining, and realized that it was hard work for him to keep his head straight with the weight of a sword attached to it.

  Loftis sank to his knees, then he fell forward onto his face, looking absurd and pitiful with the sword still sticking out of the back of his head.

  Chapter Eleven

  I got out of there in a hurry, before anyone in the place could think to stop me.

  Loiosh said, “Should I follow them? Oh, never mind; they’ve just teleported. I can show you where they tele-ported from if you want.”

  “I have no intention of tracing anyone’s teleport, Loiosh; I just want to get out of here. Keep watching.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  I crossed the street and turned right at the first corner I came to, then right again, then left, then left again, and then right, then I went straight for a while, then I stopped and looked around, having gotten myself lost enough to have a chance of confusing anyone else.”

  “Well?”

  “All clear, boss.”

  “Okay, back home, then.”

  “I’ll keep watching.”

  We made it back to the cottage, both of us looking around fairly often. Buddy seemed happy to see me, Rocza seemed happy to see Loiosh, the old woman didn’t seem happy about anything, and Savn didn’t seem to care one way or another. I sat down at the table, closed my eyes, and took my first deep breath in what seemed like a year or so.

  The old woman looked at me and didn’t ask any questions, wherefore I gave her no answers. I really wished you were here, Kiera, because I felt the need to confess and to have some help sorting out what had just happened. It had all made sense—Loftis figuring it out, sitting me down where he could give me one chance to come clean, and then having his people arrest me—up to the point where they’d killed him.

  They’d killed him.

  Had he been surprised by who came through the door? Or that anyone showed up? Or only by what they did?

  He didn’t break the stick.

  That was a good one; I’d love to have found out what it meant, but there was no one around to ask. If I’d understood it, no doubt it would turn out to be the code phrase that made everything clear, and indicated exactly what I should do next. More probably, it went back to his childhood and had something to do with being hurt—at least, that’s the sort of thing that went through my head when I decided I was about to become damaged, or maybe dead.

  I regretted him. He was an honest son of a bitch, in spite of what he was doing, and he’d struck me as good at his job, although the only trace of evidence for that was that he’d hit you the same way, Kiera, so maybe he was really just a fool who knew how to impress people like us.

  I wished his last meal had been better, though.

  I said, “How’s the boy, Mother?”

  “No change,” she said.

  I said, “Savn?” He didn’t seem to hear me. He was staring into the hearth as if it was the only thing in the world. At least there weren’t any knives in it. I said, “Do you have any great ideas?”

  She glared at me, then stood up, which took her quite a while. She came over and sat beside me, saying in a low voice, “I don’t think I’m going to attempt the dreamwalk; at least, not for a while. He is responding, in a way, so that’s some improvement. I want to know how far we’ll get. I want to know if we can get him talking about something other than knives.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’ve been talking to him. You could try it too.”

  “Just talking to him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even though he doesn’t respond?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right,” I said.

  She nodded, and I went over and sat down next to him. “So how are you, boy?” I said. He didn’t respond. “I hope you’re feeling well physically, at least.” I felt like an idiot. The old woman got up and we
nt outside, taking Buddy with her.

  “It’s been about a year now, Savn.” I said. “Look, I hope you know that I’m sorry about what happened. You were never supposed to get involved in it.”

  He stared at the hearth and didn’t move.

  “You saved my life, you know. Twice. First, when I was injured, and then again. That isn’t something I forget. And all those things you said to me, they were hard to hear, but it was probably good for me.” I laughed a little. “Most things that are good for you hurt, maybe. To the left, though, most things that hurt aren’t good for you. There’s a nice riddle, if you want one. Do you like riddles? Do you like puzzles? I’m working on a puzzle now, Savn, and it has me pretty thoroughly stumped. I’d like to talk it over with you. You’re a pretty sharp kid, you know.

  “Why was Loftis killed? That’s a puzzler, isn’t it? He was working for someone in the Empire who was trying to hide the fact that Fyres was murdered, because if Fyres was murdered, they’d have to look into who killed him, and they’d probably never find out, but they would find out who wanted him dead, and that was a lot of people with a lot of connections to some of the people who keep our Empire chugging along. So maybe someone didn’t want the information hidden. I can imagine that, Savn. But that’s no reason to kill Loftis—it would be much easier, and probably cheaper, just to let someone, say the Warlord, or Lord Khaavren, or even Her Majesty, know what was going on. Killing Loftis doesn’t make any sense.

  “And it couldn’t be to help hide what he was doing, because now they’re going to have to investigate that, and that will almost certainly lead them to find out everything. But if that was the goal, it was going about it the hard way, and the dangerous way, and people don’t do that when there’s a safe way and an easy way to do things—except maybe Dzurlords, and they don’t get into the sort of subtle thinking that goes along with it. I just can’t make it fit, Savn. What do you think?”

  Evidently he thought the hearth was fascinating.

  “There’s got to be a piece of this I’m not seeing—a piece of information I don’t have. I wish I had more sources, like I used to. It used to be I could just snap my fingers and people would go scurrying to discover everything I needed to know. Now all I’ve got is what I can learn myself (with the help of Loiosh and Rocza, and a few minstrels). Should I go find a minstrel and talk to him, Savn? You were there the last time I did that, and I got some useful information, too. Remember her? She was quite something, wasn’t she?