The Book of Jhereg

  “Thanks, but hold, for now.”

  That last time, Morrolan had changed his mind about killing me because he’d had a use for me, and I’d stopped just short of mortal insult. This time, I felt sure, Aliera would not change her mind—once she decided on a course of action she was as stubborn in pursuing it as I was. After all, I thought bitterly, in an odd sort of way we were related.

  I readied myself for action—I would have to get the drop on her to have any chance at all, so there was no point in waiting. It was odd; I realized that everything I’d been doing since I’d spoken to the Demon had been directed either at finding a way to kill Mellar, or risking my life to prevent someone from solving my problem.

  I timed my breathing and studied her. Ready, now . . . wait . . . I stopped. What the Hell are you doing, Vlad? Kill Aliera? Be killed by her? What, by the great sea of chaos, would that solve? Sure, Vlad, sure. Good thinking. All we need now is for you to kill a guest of Morrolan’s—and the wrong one at that! Sure, all we need now is for Aliera to be dead. That would—

  “Wait a minute!” I said. “I’ve got it!”

  “You’ve got what?” she asked coolly. She wasn’t taking any chances on me—she knew what a tricky bastard I was.

  “Actually,” I said in a more normal tone of voice, “you’ve got it.”

  “And what, pray tell, have I got?”

  “A Great Weapon,” I said.

  “Yes, I certainly do,” she admitted, not giving an inch.

  “A weapon,” I continued, “that is irrevocably linked to your soul.”

  She waited calmly for me to go on, Pathfinder still pointed straight at my heart.

  I smiled, and for the first time in days, I actually meant it. “You aren’t going to kill Mellar, my friend. He’s going to kill you!”

  16

  “The adding of a single thread changes the garment.”

  THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY NO question about it: I was doing too much teleporting these last few days. I forced myself to take a few minutes to relax at the teleport area for my office building, then went charging up the stairs like a dzur on the hunt. I skimmed past my secretary before he had time to unload mundane business on me and said, “Get Kragar up here. Now.”

  I stepped into the office and plumped down. Time for some hard thinking. By the time my stomach had settled, the details of the plan were beginning to work themselves out. Timing would have to be precise, but that was nothing new. There were a few things I would have to check on, to make sure they could be done, but these I’d make sure of in advance, and maybe I could find a way around any problems that turned up.

  I realized that I was also going to have to depend a lot more on other people than I was at all comfortable with, but life is full of risks.

  I started ticking off points, when I realized that Kragar was sitting there, waiting for me to notice him. I sighed. “What’s the news today, Kragar?”

  “The rumor mill is about to explode—it’s leaking from several directions.”

  “Bad?”

  “Bad. We aren’t going to be able to keep this under our cloaks for very long; there’s too much going on. And the bodies didn’t help either.”

  “Bodies?”

  “Yeah. Two bodies turned up this morning. Both sorceresses, Left Hand.”

  “Oh. Right. One of them would be the one we discussed before.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know who the other one was. My guess is that the Demon found someone else who was spreading too many rumors.”

  “Could be. Was she killed with a single dagger blow to the heart?”

  He looked startled. “Yes, she was. How did you know?”

  “And there was a spell on her to prevent revivification, right?”

  “Right. Who was she, Vlad?”

  “I never learned her name, but she was just what you said, a sorceress from the Left Hand. She was involved in setting up and taking out Morrolan, and he took it personally. I didn’t actually know that it would be single shot to the heart, but that’s how he was nailed, and he does have a certain sense of poetic justice.”

  “I see.”

  “Anything else worth noting?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I wouldn’t go outside today, if I were you.”

  “Oh? What did you hear?”

  “It seems that the Demon doesn’t like you.”

  “Oh, wonderful. How did you find this out?”

  “We have a few friends in his organization, and they’ve heard rumors.”

  “Great. Has he hired anyone?”

  “No way of being sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Terrific. Maybe I’ll invite him over for a friendly game of ‘Spin the Dagger,’ and let the whole thing get settled that way.”

  Kragar snorted.

  “Do you think,” I asked, “that he’ll back off if we finish this Mellar business for him?”

  “Maybe. Probably, in fact, if we can do it in time—that is, before the word gets out too far. From what I hear, that isn’t too long from now. I guess the council members are starting to feel the bite of digging into their own purses. They aren’t going to be able to avoid giving an explanation too much longer.”

  “That’s all right. They aren’t going to have to.”

  He sat up suddenly. “You have something?”

  “Yeah. Nothing I’m horribly proud of, but it ought to do the trick—at least part of it.”

  “What part is that?”

  “The hard part.”

  “What—?”

  “Wait a minute.”

  I stood up and went over to the window. I made an automatic glance down at the street below, then opened the window.

  “Loiosh, see if you can find Daymar. If you do, ask him if he would mind putting in an appearance here.”

  For once, Loiosh didn’t make any remarks as he left.

  “Okay, Vlad, so what is it?”

  “Get a message out that I would very badly like to see Kiera. Then draw off a thousand gold from the treasury, and bring it up here.”

  “What—?”

  “Just do it, okay? I’ll explain everything later, after everyone is here.”

  “‘Everyone’? How many should I figure on?”

  “Uh, let me see . . . five. No, six.”

  “Six? Should I rent a convention hall?”

  “Scram.”

  I settled back to wait and went over the plan again. The rough spot, as I saw it, was whether or not Kiera could pull off the switch. Of course, if anyone could, she could, but it was going to be difficult even for her, I suspected.

  There was, to be sure, an even rougher spot, but I tried to avoid thinking about that.

  Alarms. “Bing bing,” and “Clang,” and everything else, both psionic and audible, went off all over the place. I hit the floor rolling and had a dagger ready to throw as my receptionist came bursting in, sword in one hand, dagger in the other. Then I realized what had happened—I saw Daymar floating cross-legged, about three feet off the floor.

  I was rather pleased that before he had time to uncross his legs and stand up (or stand down, as the case may be), there were a total of four of my people in the office, weapons drawn and ready.

  I stood up, resheathed my dagger, and held my hand up. “False alarm,” I explained, “but good job.”

  Daymar was looking around him with an expression of mild interest on his face. My receptionist was looking unhappy about putting his weapons away. “He broke right through our teleport blocks like they weren’t even there! He—”

  “I know. But it’s all right, never mind.”

  They stood for a moment, then shrugged and left, casting glances at Daymar, who was now looking bewildered.

  “Did you have teleport blocks up?” he said. “I didn’t notice any.”

  “I should have thought to have them turned off. It doesn’t matter. Thanks for showing up.”

  “No problem. What do you need?”

  “More help, old friend. Si
t down, if you wish.” I set an example by picking up my chair and sitting myself down in it. “How are you at illusions?”

  He considered this. “Casting them, or breaking them?”

  “Casting them. Can you do a good one, quickly?”

  “By ‘quickly,’ I assume you mean fast enough so that no one sees the intermediate stages. Is that right?”

  “That, and with little or no warmup time. How are you at it?”

  He shrugged. “How is Kiera at stealing?”

  “Funny you should bring that up. She should be here—soon, if I’m lucky.”

  “Oh, really? What’s going on, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Hmmm. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to wait on the explanations until everyone shows up.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s fine with me. I’ll just meditate for a while.” And, lifting his legs off the floor, he closed his eyes and began to do so.

  At that moment, I heard Loiosh tapping on the window. I opened it. He flew in and landed on my right shoulder. He looked at Daymar, hissed a hiss of puzzlement, and looked away.

  I reached out for contact with my wife, found her. “Honey, could you come over to the office?”

  “Certainly. I don’t suppose you have work for me, do you?”

  “Not exactly, but the next thing to it.”

  “Vlad! You’ve got something!”

  “Yep.”

  “What is—? No, I suppose you want to wait ’til I’m there, right? I’ll be right over.”

  I repeated the process with Aliera, who agreed to teleport in. This time, however, I remembered to drop the protection spells before she arrived.

  She looked around. “So this is your office. It looks quite functional.”

  “Thank you. It’s small, but it suits my humble life-style.”

  “I see.”

  She noticed Daymar, then, who was still floating some three or four feet off the floor. She rolled her eyes in a gesture that was remarkably like Cawti’s. Daymar opened his eyes and stood up.

  “Hello, Aliera,” he said.

  “Hello, Daymar. Mind-probed any teckla, lately?”

  “No,” he answered with a straight face, “did you have one that you wanted mind-probed?”

  “Not at the moment,” she said. “Ask me again next Cycle.”

  “I’ll be sure to.”

  He probably would, too, I reflected, if they were both still around then.

  Cawti arrived at that moment, in time to avoid any further clashes between Hawk and Dragon. She greeted Aliera warmly. Aliera gave her a cheery smile, and they went off into a corner to gossip. The two of them had become close friends in recent months, based in part on a mutual friendship with Lady Norathar. Norathar was a Dragon turned Jhereg turned Dragon, who had been Cawti’s partner, if you recall. Aliera had been instrumental in returning to Norathar her rightful place as a Dragonlord. Well, so had I, but never mind. That’s another story.

  It occurred to me, then, that Norathar was another one who would be somewhat caught in the middle by this whole thing. Her two best friends were going to have to try to kill each other, and she had loyalties on both sides. I put it out of my mind. We were here to prevent her from having to make that choice.

  Kiera entered shortly, followed by Kragar. He handed me a large purse, which I immediately turned over to Kiera.

  “Still another job, Vlad? I ought to teach you the craft. You could save a lot of time and money if you could do it on your own.”

  “Kiera,” I said, “there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to learn your art. Besides, my grandfather doesn’t approve of stealing. Are you willing to help me out in this? It’s in a good cause.”

  She absently weighed the purse, no doubt able to tell within a few Imperials how much was in it. “It is?” she said. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll help you out anyway.” She smiled her little smile and looked at the others in the room.

  “Oh, yes,” I said. “Kiera, this is Aliera e’Kieron—”

  “We know each other,” interrupted Aliera.

  They smiled at each other, and I was surprised to note that the smiles seemed genuine. For a while I’d been afraid that Kiera had once stolen something of Aliera’s. Friendships do turn up in the oddest places.

  “Okay,” I said, “let’s get down to business. I think everyone knows everyone, right?”

  There was no disagreement.

  “Good. Let’s get comfortable.”

  Kragar had, without my mentioning it, made sure that there were six chairs in the room, and had sent out for a good wine and six glasses. These arrived, and he went around the room making sure everyone’s was full, before sitting down himself. Daymar disdained the chair, preferring to float. Loiosh assumed his position on my right shoulder.

  I began to feel a little nervous about the whole thing. I had gathered in that room a master thief, a high noble of the House of the Hawk, a Dragonlord who traced her lineage back to Kieron himself, and a highly skilled assassin. And Kragar. I was just a bit troubled. Who was I to use these people as if they were common Jhereg to be hired and sent out?

  I caught Aliera’s eye. She was looking at me steadily and confidently. Cawti, also, was waiting patiently for me to describe how we were going to get out of this.

  That’s who I was, of course. Cawti’s husband, Aliera’s friend, and more . . . and the one who knew, possibly, how to handle this situation.

  I cleared my throat, took a sip of wine, and organized my thoughts. “My friends,” I said, “I would like to thank each of you for coming here, and agreeing to help me out on this. With some of you, it is, of course, in your own best interest, for one reason or another, that this matter be favorably settled. And to you, I would like to add that I am honored that you are trusting me to handle it. To those of you with no direct interest, I am deeply grateful that you are willing to help me at all. I give you my assurance that I won’t forget this.”

  “Get to the point.”

  “Shut up, Loiosh.”

  “As to the problem, well, most of you know what it is, to one degree or another. Put simply, a high noble in the Jhereg is under the protection of Lord Morrolan, and it is necessary that he be killed, and not later than tomorrow at that, or,” I paused for another sip of wine and for effect, “or events will occur to the severe detriment of some of us.”

  Aliera snorted at the understatement. Kiera chuckled.

  “The important thing to remember is the time limit. For reasons that I would prefer not to go into, we have only today and tomorrow. Today would be much better, but I’m afraid that we’re going to have to take today to iron out difficulties, and to practice our parts.

  “Now, it is important to some of us,” I looked quickly at Aliera, but her face betrayed no emotion, “that nothing be done which would compromise Morrolan’s reputation as a host. That is, we can’t do anything to this person, Mellar, while he is a guest at Castle Black, nor can we force him to leave by threats or by magic, such as mind-control.”

  I looked around the room. I still had everyone’s attention. “I think I’ve found a method. Allow me to demonstrate what I have in mind, first, so we can get the hard part down before I go on with the rest of it. Kragar, stand up for a moment, please.”

  He did so. I came around the desk and drew my rapier. His eyebrows arched, but he said nothing.

  “Assume for a moment,” I said, “that you have weapons secreted about your person at every conceivable point.”

  He smiled a little. Assume, Hell!

  “Draw your blade,” I continued, “and get into a guard position.”

  He did so, standing full forward, with his blade pointed straight at my eyes, level with his own head. His blade was a lot heavier and somewhat longer than mine, and it formed a straight line from his eyes to mine. His palm was down, his elbow out. There was a certain grace apparent, although I still consider the Eastern en garde position to be more elegant.

  I stood for a moment, then att
acked, simulating the Dragaeran move for a straight head cut. I came at his head, just below the line of his blade, giving me a sharp angle up.

  He made the obvious parry, dropping his elbow so that his sword also angled up, even more sharply than mine. Also, the strong of his blade was matched against the weak of mine. This lined him up very well for a cut down at my head; however, before he could take it, I moved in and . . .

  I felt something strike my stomach, lightly. I looked down, and saw his left hand there. Had this been a real fight, there would have been a dagger clutched in that hand. Had we been alone, he would probably have used a real dagger and avoided hitting me with it, but he wasn’t keen on letting all of these people in on where he kept his extra blades. I resumed a normal position, saluted him, and sheathed my blade.

  “Where,” I asked, “did you get the dagger from?”

  “Left forearm sheath,” he said, with no hesitation.

  “Good. Is there anywhere else you could have gotten it from that would have worked as well?”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment, then he said, “I was assuming a spring-loaded type of forearm sheath, set for left-hand use. If he has it set for a right-hand draw, which is just as common, then I’d expect a simple waist sheath would be the one he’d go for. Either way it would be fast. I can use the fact that the whole left side of your body is undefended, and I can attack with the same motion I draw with. An upper thigh sheath would mean dropping my arm lower than I have to, there isn’t any reason to go cross-body, and anything else is worse.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Cawti, anything to add, or do you agree?”

  She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, he’s right. It would be one of those two.”

  “Good. Kragar, I want you to secure two Morganti daggers.”

  He looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay. How strong do you want them?”

  “Strong enough for anyone to tell that they are Morganti, but not so strong that they are apparent when they’re sitting in their sheaths, okay?”

  “Okay, I can find a couple like that. And, let me guess, you want one to be the right size for a waist sheath, and the other to be the right size for a forearm sheath.”