“Nevertheless,” said Morrolan, “since the insult was delivered through me, it is my right, and my duty, to avenge it, don’t you think?”
Aliera smiled. She sat back, relaxed, the very picture of one who’s just had her worries removed. “Oh, good!” she said. “So you’ll kill him after all!”
“Why certainly I shall,” said Morrolan, showing his teeth, “thirteen days from now.”
I glanced at Sethra to see how this was affecting her. She hadn’t yet said anything, but the look on her face was far from pleasant. I was hoping that she’d be willing and able to mediate between the two of them if things started to get pushed too far. Looking at her, however, made me wonder if she had any such inclination.
Aliera wasn’t smiling anymore. Her hand gripped the hilt of Pathfinder, and her knuckles were white. “That,” she explained, “is doing nothing. I will not permit a Jhereg to—”
“You will not touch him, Aliera,” said Morrolan. “So long as I live, no guest in my house need fear for his life. I don’t care who he is, why he’s here; so long as I have extended him my welcome, he may consider himself safe.
“I have entertained my own blood enemies at my table, and arranged Morganti duels with them. I have seen the Necromancer speaking quietly to one who had been an enemy of hers for six incarnations. I have seen Sethra,” he gestured toward her, “sitting across from a Dzurlord who had sworn to destroy her. I will not allow you, my own cousin, to cast my name in the mud; to make me an oathbreaker. Is that how you would preserve the honor of the House of the Dragon?”
“Oh, speak on, great protector of honor,” she said. “Why not go all the way? Put up a poster outside the Jhereg barracks, saying that you are always willing to protect anyone who wants to run from their hired killers?”
He ignored the sarcasm. “And can you explain to me,” he said, “how it is that we can defend our honor as a House if each member does not honor even his own words?”
Aliera shook her head and continued in a softer voice. “Don’t you see, Morrolan, that there is a difference between the codes of honor, and of practice, that have come down from the traditions of the House of the Dragon, and your own custom? I’m not objecting to your having your little customs; I think it’s a fine thing. But it isn’t on the same level as the traditions of the House.”
He nodded. “I understand that, Aliera,” he said. “But it isn’t just a ‘custom’ I’m talking about; it’s an oath that I’ve sworn to make Castle Black a place of refuge. It would be different if we were at, say, Dzur Mountain.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t understand you. Of course you want to live by your oath, but does that mean that you have to allow yourself, and the House, to be used by it? He isn’t just living under your oath, he’s abusing it.”
“That’s true,” agreed Morrolan. “But I’m afraid he’s correct. There simply isn’t any chance of my breaking it, and he realizes that. I’m rather surprised that you can’t understand that.”
I decided the time was right to intervene. “It seems to me that—”
“Silence, Jhereg,” snapped Aliera. “This doesn’t concern you.”
I reconsidered.
“It isn’t that I can’t understand it,” she went on to Morrolan, “it’s just that I think your priorities are wrong.”
He shrugged. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Aliera rose, and her eyes, I saw, had turned ice blue. “As it happens,” she said, “it wasn’t my oath, it was yours. If you were no longer master of Castle Black, we wouldn’t have this problem, would we? And I don’t recall anything in your oath that prevents a guest from attacking you!”
Morrolan’s hand was white where he gripped the hilt of Blackwand. Loiosh dived under my cloak. I would have liked to do the same.
“That’s true,” said Morrolan, evenly. “Attack anyway.”
Sethra spoke for the first time, gently. “Need I point out the guest laws, Aliera?”
She didn’t answer. She stood, gripping her blade, and staring hard at Morrolan. It occurred to me then that she didn’t want to attack Morrolan at all; she wanted him to attack her. I wasn’t surprised at her next statement.
“And guest laws,” Aliera said, “apply to all hosts. Even if they claim to be Dragons, but don’t have the courage to avenge an insult done to all of us.”
It almost worked, but Morrolan stopped himself. His tone matched the color of her eyes: “You may consider it fortunate that I have the rule I do, and that you are as much a guest as this Jhereg, although it is clear that he knows far more than you about the courtesy a guest owes a host.”
“Ha!” cried Aliera, drawing Pathfinder.
“Oh, shit,” I said.
“All right, Morrolan, then I release you from your oath, as regards me. It doesn’t matter anyway, since I’d much rather be a dead dragon than a live teckla!” Pathfinder stood out like a short green rod of light, pulsating gently.
“You don’t seem to realize, cousin,” he said, “that you don’t have power over my oath.”
Now Sethra stood up. Thank the Lords of Judgment, she hadn’t drawn Iceflame. She calmly stepped between them. “You both lose,” she said. “Neither of you has any intention of attacking the other, and you both know it. Aliera wants Morrolan to kill her, which preserves her honor and breaks his oath, so that he may as well go ahead and kill Mellar. Morrolan wants Aliera to kill him, being the one to break guest-laws, so she can then go ahead and kill Mellar herself. I, however, have no intention of allowing either of you to be killed or dishonored, so you may as well forget the provocations.”
They stood that way for a moment, then Morrolan allowed the ghost of a smile to pass over his lips. Aliera did the same. Loiosh peeked out from under my cloak, then resumed his position on my right shoulder.
Sethra turned to me. “Vlad,” she said, “isn’t it true that you are—” she stopped, reconsidered, and tried again, “—that you know the person who is supposed to kill Mellar?”
I rubbed my neck, which I discovered had become rather tense, and said drily, “I expect I could put a hand on him.”
“Good. Maybe we should all start trying to think of ways to help out this fellow, instead of ways to goad ourselves into murdering each other.”
Morrolan and Aliera both scowled at the idea of helping a Jhereg, then shrugged.
I gave a short prayer of thanks to Verra that I’d thought of asking Sethra to show up.
“How much time is there that the assassin can wait?” asked Sethra.
How the hell did she find out so much? I asked myself, for the millionth time since I’d known her. “Maybe a few days,” I said.
“All right, what can we do to help?”
I shrugged. “The only thing I can think of is just what Aliera thought of earlier—tracing him with Pathfinder. The problem is that we need some way of getting him to leave soon enough, without, of course, forcing him to.”
Aliera took her seat again, but Morrolan turned and headed for the door. “All things considered,” he said, “I don’t think it quite proper that I include myself in this. I trust you all,” he looked significantly at Aliera, “not to violate my oath, but I don’t think it would be right for me to conspire against my own guest. Excuse me.” Bowing, he left.
Aliera picked up the threads of the conversation. “You mean, trick him into leaving?”
“Something like that. I don’t know, maybe put a spell on him, so he thinks he’s safe. Can that be done?”
Sethra looked thoughtful, but Aliera cut in before she could speak. “No, that won’t do,” she said. “I expect it could be done, but, in the first place, Morrolan would detect it. And, in the second place, we can’t use any form of magic against him without violating Morrolan’s oath.”
“By Adron’s Disaster!” I said, “you mean we can’t trick him, either?”
“No, no,” said Aliera. “We’re free to convince him to leave on his own, even i
f we have to lie to do it. But we can’t use magic against him. Morrolan doesn’t see any difference between, for instance, using an energy bolt to blast him, or using a mind implant to make him leave.”
“Oh, that’s just charming,” I said. “I don’t suppose either of you has any idea of how we’re going to accomplish this?”
They both shook their heads.
I stood up. “All right, I’ll be heading back to my office. Please keep thinking about it, and let me know if you get anywhere.”
They nodded and settled back, deep in discussion. I didn’t think much of the chances of their actually coming up with something. I mean, they were both damn good at what they did, but what they did wasn’t assassination. On the other hand, I could be surprised. In any case, it was certainly better having them work with me than against me.
I bowed, and left.
8
“There is no such thing as sufficient preparation.”
I RETURNED TO MY office and allowed my stomach to recover from the aftereffects of the teleport. After about ten minutes, I contacted my secretary. “Please ask Kragar to step in here,” I communicated.
“But, boss—he went in five minutes ago.”
I looked up and found him seated in his usual place and looking innocent.
“Never mind.”
I shook my head. “I really wish you’d stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
I sighed. “Kragar, Aliera is willing to help us.”
“Good. Do you have a plan yet?”
“No, only the start of one. But Aliera, and, by the way, Sethra Lavode, are trying to come up with the rest of it.”
He looked impressed. “Sethra? Not bad. What happened?”
“Nothing—but just barely.”
“Eh?”
I gave him a report on what had occurred. “So,” I concluded, “now we need to figure out how we’re going to get Mellar to leave early.”
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “you could ask the Demon.”
“Oh, sure. And if he doesn’t have any ideas, I’ll ask the Empress. And—”
“What’s wrong with asking the Demon? Since you’re going to be talking to him anyway, why not take the op—”
“I’m going to what?”
“The Demon wants to meet with you, right away. A message came in just before you did.”
“What does he want to meet with me about?”
“He didn’t say. Maybe he’s come across some information.”
“Information he could just send over. Dammit, he’d better not be jogging my sword-arm. He knows better than that.”
“Sure he does,” snorted Kragar. “But what the hell are you going to do about it if he decides to do it anyway?”
“There is that, isn’t there?”
He nodded.
“When, and where? No, let me guess, same time and place, right?”
“Half-right. Same place, but noon.”
“Noon? But isn’t it already—” I stopped, concentrated a moment, and got the time. By the Great Sea of Chaos, it was barely half an hour before noon! That whole conversation had taken less than an hour. Verra!
“That means he’s buying me lunch, doesn’t it?”
“Right.”
“And it also means that we don’t really have time to set up something, in case he’s set up something.”
“Right again. You know, Vlad, we’d be within our rights to just refuse to meet with him. You aren’t bound by something like this.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
He thought for a minute, then shook his head.
“Neither do I,” I said.
“Well, would you like me to put someone in there as a guest? We could arrange for one or two people—”
“No. He’d pick up on it, and we can’t let that happen at this point. It would indicate that we don’t trust him. Which we don’t, of course, but . . .”
“Yeah, I know.”
He shrugged and changed the subject. “About this business with Aliera and Sethra, do you have any ideas on how we’re going to convince Mellar to leave Castle Black?”
“Well,” I said, “we could invite him to a business meeting.”
Kragar chuckled. “Next idea,” he said.
“I don’t know. That’s been the problem from the beginning, hasn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.”
I shrugged. “Maybe something will come up. By the way, if there’s anything more we can do in terms of digging into Mellar’s background, let’s do it. I’d dearly love to find a weak spot in him just about now.”
He nodded. “It would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“Dammit, he came from somewhere. The information we got from the Demon doesn’t start until he joined the Jhereg. We don’t know a damned thing before then.”
“I know, but how are we supposed to dig up more than the Demon could?”
“I don’t know . . . Yes! I do! Aliera! That was what I’d wanted her help with in the first place, and then when things got hot over there I never thought about asking her.”
“Asking her what?”
“Well, among other things, she specializes in genetic research.”
“So?”
“So tell me—what House was Mellar born into?”
“I assume Jhereg. What makes you think differently?”
“I don’t, but we have no reason to be sure. If it is Jhereg, there’s a chance that Aliera could lead us to his parents, and we could start digging there. If not, that would tell us something worthwhile in itself and might lead us in other directions.”
“Okay. I guess that isn’t something the Demon would have been able to check out. Are you going to contact her yourself, or do you want me to set up another appointment?”
I thought it over before answering. “You set it up,” I decided. “As long as this mess continues, we do everything formally. Make it for this evening, early, if possible. If I’m still alive. Ask her to check him over.”
“Okay, I’ll take care of it. If you’re dead, I’ll apologize to her for you.”
“Oh, good. That’s a great load off my mind.”
* * *
Once again, I had my back to the door. My right arm was next to my wineglass; I could get a dagger from my left arm-sheath and throw it well enough to hit a moving wine cork from fifteen feet away in less than half a second. Loiosh kept his eyes fixed on the door. I was keenly aware that, if I were, indeed, about to be removed, none of these things would really give me enough of an edge.
My palms, however, were dry. There were three reasons for this: first, I had been in many situations before where I might suddenly have to move at top speed to save my life. Second, I really didn’t think it very likely that the Demon was going to take me out. There are simpler ways to do it, and I was pretty sure by this time that everything was legitimate. And third, I continually wiped my hands on the legs of my breeches.
“Here he comes, boss.”
“Alone?”
“Two bodyguards, but they’re waiting by the door.”
The Demon slid smoothly into the seat across from me. “Good afternoon,” he said. “How are things coming?”
“They’re coming. I recommend the tsalmoth in garlic butter.”
“As you say.” He signaled over a waiter, who took our orders with enough respect to show that he knew who I, at least, was. The Demon picked out a light Nyroth wine to go along with it, showing that he also knew something about eating.
“Things are looking a little more urgent now, Vlad. May I call you Vlad?” he added.
“Tell him, ‘no,’ boss.”
“Of course.” I chuckled. “I’ll call you ‘Demon.’”
He smiled, without showing how bored he must have been at the remark. “As I was saying—things are starting to look serious. It seems that a few too many people know already. The best sorceresses in the Left Hand have figured out that someone big is interested in finding Mellar, but
there wasn’t any way to avoid that. On the other hand, there are a few others who are wondering about some cutbacks we’ve had to make in our operations. All it’s going to take is for someone to start putting the two things together, and then things get unpleasant real fast.”
“So, are you—” I stopped, as the soup came. Out of reflex, I passed my left hand over it briefly, but there wasn’t any poison, of course. Poison is clumsy and unpredictable, and few Dragaerans knew enough about the metabolism of an Easterner to leave me seriously worried about it.
I continued when the waiter left. “Are you saying you want me to push it a bit?” I held down my annoyance; the last thing this side of Deathgate I wanted just then was for the Demon to get the idea that I was upset.
“As much as you can without risking mistakes. But that wasn’t really what I wanted—I know you’re moving as fast as you can.”
Sure, he did. The soup was flat, I decided.
“We’ve learned something that may interest you,” he continued.
I waited.
“Mellar is holed up in Castle Black.”
He looked for a reaction from me, and, when he didn’t get one, continued.
“Our sorcerers broke through about two hours ago, and I got in touch with your people right away. So, you can forget checking out East. The reason we couldn’t find him for so long was because Castle Black is close to two hundred miles from Adrilankha—but, of course, you know that. You work for Morrolan, right?”
“Work for him? No. I’m on his payroll as a security consultant, nothing more.”
He nodded. He worked on his soup for a while, then, “You didn’t seem surprised when I told you where he was.”
“Thank you very much,” I said.
The Demon let me know that he had teeth and raised his glass in salute. Smiling, say the sages, comes from an early form of baring the teeth. While jhereg don’t bare their teeth, Jhereg do. “Did you know?” asked the Demon, bluntly.
I nodded.
“I’m impressed,” he said. “You move quickly.”