“You’ve got it. Let me see for a minute. . . .” I had looked very closely for the weapons Mellar was carrying, but I hadn’t been so much concerned with how big they were as where they were. I tried to remember. . . . Where was that little bulge? Ah, yes. And when he had turned from talking to the Hawklord, I had seen how much hilt from the waist sheath? Right. It looked like a standard bone hilt. How long a blade would make it balance right? And how wide? I’d have to guess, but I felt I could come pretty close.
“Waist sheath,” I announced. “Overall length, approximately fourteen inches, of which half is blade. Just a fraction over an inch wide at the widest. Forearm sheath: call it nine inches overall. The blade is about five-and-a-half inches long, and about three-quarters of an inch wide near the guard.” I stopped. “Any problem?”
He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Vlad. I should be able to get them, but I can’t count on it. I’ll talk to my supplier, and see what he has, but you’re being damn precise.”
“I know. Do the best you can. Remember, they don’t have to be untraceable this time.”
“That will help.”
“Good.”
I turned to Kiera. “Now, the big question. Can you lighten Mellar of a pair of daggers without his noticing, and, more of a problem, without his bodyguard noticing? I’m referring, of course, to the waist and forearm daggers.”
She just smiled in answer.
“Okay, now, can you return them again? Can you put them back without his noticing?”
Her brows came together. “‘Return them’? I don’t know . . . I think so . . . maybe. I take it you mean substituting two new ones for the ones he has, right?”
I nodded.
“And,” I added, “remember that they’re going to be Morganti daggers, so they have to stay unnoticeable during the switch.”
She brushed it off. “If I can do it at all, the fact that they’re Morganti won’t make any difference.” She took on a vacant expression for a moment, and I noticed her hand twitching, as she mentally went through the motions that would be needed. “The waist dagger,” she said finally, “can be done. About the other one . . .” she continued to look thoughtful. “Vlad, do you know if he has a spring-loaded mechanism for the left-hand, or just a reverse right-hand draw setup?”
I thought about it. I brought up my memory of seeing him again, and the bulge that had to be that blade, but I couldn’t quite pin it down. “I don’t know. I’m sure he has something, I mean, one or the other, but I just can’t tell which one. Hmmmm, it just occurred to me, that if he has the reverse draw type, he won’t use it for what we’re talking about doing, so it really doesn’t matter. We can assume—”
“Say, Vlad,” said Kragar suddenly. “Remember that he’s been trained as a master swordsman. That means he’ll figure on fighting sword and dagger. Chances are, he’s got the spring mechanism, so he can just twist his wrist and have a blade pop into his left hand.”
I nodded.
Kiera said, “Do you have a forearm sheath, Vlad?”
It made me uncomfortable to discuss it, but I realized what she had in mind, and it was a reasonable question. I nodded.
“Spring, or right-hand draw?”
“Right-hand draw,” I said.
She stood up. “Those are easier,” she said, “but that will make up for the fact that you’ll be watching for it. Let’s see what I can do . . .” She crossed in front of Cawti and Kragar and stood in front of my desk. She set her wineglass down a few inches from my own. I was holding it loosely, and the cuff was open a little, which should work to her advantage.
I kept my eyes on my arm and her hand where she set the glass down. So far as I could tell, her hand never came closer than three inches from mine.
She walked back to her chair and sat down again.
“How was that?” she asked.
I pulled back my sleeve, and checked the sheath. It held the same dagger it always had.
“Fine,” I said, “except for the little matter that—” I stopped. She was smiling that smile of hers that I knew so well. She reached into her cloak, pulled out a dagger, and held it up. I heard a gasp, and saw Kragar staring at it.
He gave a quick twist to his left wrist, and suddenly a knife appeared in his hand. He looked at it, and his mouth dropped open. He held it as if it were a poisonous snake. He closed his mouth again, swallowed, and handed the dagger back to Kiera. She returned Kragar’s to him.
“Misdirection,” she explained.
“I’m convinced,” said Kragar.
“Me, too,” I said.
Kiera looked pleased.
I suddenly felt a lot better. This thing might actually work.
“I saw the whole thing, boss.”
“Sure you did, Loiosh.”
“Good,” I said. “Now, Aliera, did you see that stroke I made at Kragar, with a bind following it?”
“Yes.”
“Can you make the exact same attack?”
“I suspect so,” she answered drily.
“Okay. I’ll work on it with you. It’s going to have to be perfect.”
She nodded.
I turned to Cawti. “You’re going to have to do a simple takeout.”
“Any particular fashion?”
“Very quick, very quiet, and very unnoticeable. I’ll be providing a distraction, which should help somewhat, but we have to be absolutely sure that no one sees you do it, or Mellar will be alerted too soon, and the whole thing blows up.”
“Can I kill the guy?”
“No problem. Your target is an uninvited guest, so anything that happens to him is his problem.”
“That makes things easier. I don’t think I’ll have any difficulty.”
“Remember, he’s a damn good sorcerer, and you aren’t going to have much time to check him over.”
“So? I eat sorcerers for breakfast.”
“You’ll have to cook me up one, sometime.”
She smiled, slightly. “Does he have any protective spells up at the moment?”
I looked over at Aliera, who had checked the two of them out after I had left her.
“No,” she said. “They’re both good enough to get defenses up quickly if they have to, but I guess they don’t want to call attention to themselves by using spells in Castle Black unless they actually have to.”
“You keep referring to ‘they,’” said Kiera. “Which one am I going to be taking out?”
“That’s just the problem,” I said. “We don’t know. It will be whichever one is on Mellar’s left, and we don’t know which one that will be. Does that present a problem?”
She gave me what I call her I-know-something-you-don’t-know smile, and made a dagger appear in her right hand. She spun it in the air, caught it, and made it disappear. I held myself answered.
“Daymar,” I said, turning to him, “you’re going to have to throw an illusion at me. It’s going to have to be fast, thorough, and undetectable.”
Daymar looked suddenly doubtful. “Undetectable? Morrolan will be able to tell that I’m throwing a spell in his castle no matter how subtle I am.”
“Morrolan won’t be there, so you don’t need to worry about him. It does, however, have to be good enough so that a topnotch sorcerer, who will be there, doesn’t notice it. Of course, he’ll be rather busy at the time.”
Daymar thought for a minute. “How long does the illusion have to stay on?”
“About five seconds.”
“No problem, then.”
“Good. Then that’s everything. Now, here’s the plan. . . .”
* * *
“I like it, Vlad,” said Kragar, “up to the teleport. That leaves you in a pretty miserable position, doesn’t it? Why don’t we go back to the original plan that you worked up with Aliera at that point?”
“You aren’t thinking it through,” I told him. “We’re really pulling an elaborate hoax. It has to happen fast enough for Mellar to act while he’s disoriented and confused. In fact, we
’re going to have to make him panic. Someone like Mellar isn’t going to panic easily, and it isn’t going to last very long. If we give him time to think it through, he’ll realize what happened and just teleport back. We’ll be right back where we started.”
“Do you think,” asked Kragar, “that we can get Morrolan to put up a teleport block around Castle Black so he can’t come back there? Or maybe Aliera can do it.”
“Aliera isn’t going to be in any condition to put up or keep up a teleport block, if you remember. And if Morrolan is there to do it, he’ll interfere in the earlier part of the plan, and we won’t be able to bring it off at all.”
“What about,” said Cawti “letting Morrolan in on it from the beginning?”
Aliera answered for me. “He’d never permit me to do what I’m going to do, even if he agreed with the rest—which he wouldn’t, by the way.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s Morrolan. When this is over, if it works, he’ll agree that it was a fine thing to do. But in the meantime, he’ll try to stop it if he can.”
“What do you mean,” Cawti asked, “about his not permitting you to do what you are going to do?”
“Just what I said. Even if he wasn’t involved in any other way, he’d at least try to stop that part.”
“Why? If you aren’t in any danger—”
“I never said,” replied Aliera softly, “that I wouldn’t be in any danger.”
Cawti looked at her sharply. “I don’t pretend to understand Great Weapons, but if it isn’t safe—”
“Nothing is ‘safe.’ This is a better chance than I’d get if I did something that forced Morrolan to kill me.”
Cawti looked troubled. “But Aliera, your soul—”
“So what? I think I have a good chance of surviving, and this leaves Morrolan with his honor intact and the problem solved. The other way, Morrolan and I both end up worse off, with no chance at all for things to work out right. This is our best chance.”
Cawti still looked unhappy, but she didn’t say anything more on the subject.
Kragar said, “What about if Daymar throws a second illusion so I can get in on it?”
“No good,” I said. “Who’s going to do the teleport then? We can’t do it ourselves, remember, because that’s using magic against a guest at Castle Black. I’m convinced that it will be one of the two bodyguards who does the teleport, so they can make it untraceable at the same time.”
“Even if Mellar asks you to do it?”
I looked at Aliera, who nodded. “Even then,” she said. “He has to leave under his own power, or by the hand of one of his own people, or Morrolan will almost certainly take offense.”
“Well—I suppose. But there has to be some way that we can get help to you.”
I shrugged. “Sure, it could be that they don’t get their trace-blocks up fast enough, so you could find me then. And I expect that Aliera will be able to find me with Pathfinder—after she recovers.” I carefully didn’t add “if she recovers.”
“And how long,” said Kragar, “will that take?”
“Who can say?” said Aliera. “Nothing like this has ever been done before, so far as I know.”
Cawti looked grim. “And there isn’t any way we’re going to be able to find you ourselves?”
“Well,” I said, “it would be nice if you tried. But I’m sure that some kind of block will be put up, and the guy doing it is good. Without having Pathfinder, you’ll have to spend quite a while breaking down his spell.”
Cawti looked away. “From what I hear, Vlad, you aren’t in the same class with him as a fighter.”
“I’m aware of that. But I fight Eastern-style, remember? And my intention is to take him before he even knows that I’m not who I’m supposed to be.”
“Which reminds me,” said Aliera. “If it does come down to a fight, you’re going to have to keep him busy the whole time.”
“I expect that he’ll take care of that,” I said drily. “But why?”
“Because if he realizes what has just happened—and the way you spoke of him, he will—he’ll just teleport right back to Castle Black if you give him the chance to.”
Great. “You’re right,” I admitted. “He probably will. How long will it take him, do you think?”
“To do the teleport? If I’m right in my assessment, it will take him only two or three seconds.”
“So I can’t allow him more than two seconds of breathing time during the fight.” I shrugged. “That’s all right. As I said, I don’t expect him to allow me any breathing time, if it comes down to a fight. But I’m hoping it won’t.”
“By the way,” said Kragar, “what happens if he turns to you and tells you to teleport him out?”
“I’m hoping he’ll ask the other guy—which is a fifty-fifty chance. If he does turn to me, I’ll do a dumb and stupid look and pretend that I’m in a state of shock. That should be believable.”
Daymar snapped his fingers. “The Necromancer!” he said. “She won’t have to trace the teleport; she can use her own ways of getting to you.”
“Not without psionic contact,” I said. “And chances are that whatever blocks they put up against tracing the teleport will block out general tracing spells as well—and that means that you won’t be able to contact me, and I won’t be able to contact you.”
“Oh,” said Daymar.
“Well,” I asked the room in general, “can anyone think of any alternatives? Anything I might have missed?”
There was silence.
“I didn’t think so,” I said. “All right, that’s what we’ve got. Let’s get to work.”
Kragar left to procure the daggers. The others went off to practice their parts. I went into the weapons closet and found two identical knives. They were long, thin stilettos, with seven inches of blade.
I picked one up and sharpened it carefully, spending over an hour on it. I wouldn’t have to coat this one with nonreflective black paint, I decided, since there wasn’t going to be much sneaking around involved here after I had it in my hand.
It isn’t that I’m not willing to use any weapon I can get at to finish a job; it’s just that I feel that I’m better off if I have a blade in mind from the beginning and know it exactly. That is why I picked out two identical weapons. After sharpening the one, I wouldn’t touch it again until I left for Castle Black tomorrow. That way, it would have very little, if any, association with me. Since it had so little of my “feel” about it, I could safely leave it right at the scene. This is much safer than being caught later with it on me—since there is no way to disguise the link between murder weapon and victim.
I picked up the duplicate, felt the weight and balance, and held it for a while. I took a few cuts and lunges with the thing in either hand, and then concentrated for a while on using my left hand with it.
I drew my rapier and fenced a little, practicing flipping it at a target on the wall between parry and riposte. In fact, I would never plan on throwing a knife at someone if this were a standard job, but in this case, it might be necessary.
I took out a few pieces of wood, then, and set them against the wall, and plunged the knife into them several times, alternating strokes. I used every type of attack I could think of, each several times.
I was satisfied. It was a good blade. Not very good for cutting, but it was unlikely that the death blow would be a cut. It threw well enough—although not perfectly—and it fit very well into my hand for any kind of stabbing motion that I was likely to make.
I picked out a sheath for it, and, after some thought, secured it to the outside of my left leg, just above the knee. The knife was a bit too long to be concealed effectively, but my cloak would cover it up pretty well, and it was perfectly placed for maximum speed of draw if I were fencing. Well, no; around the back of my neck would have been better for that, but then I’d have it in my hand in somewhat of an overhand position, which wouldn’t be as good as an underhanded grip for stabbing in
the middle of a bind, for example.
Loiosh watched my preparations in silence for a while, then he said, “There is one problem with your plan, boss.”
“That being?”
“The ‘distraction’ part.”
“What about it?”
“If I’m busy distracting people, that means I’m not along when you take off.”
“I know.”
“Well, I don’t like it!”
“To be perfectly honest with you, old friend, neither do I.”
17
“No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.”
EVERY CITIZEN OF THE Dragaeran Empire has a permanent link to the Imperial Orb, which circles the head of the Empress with colors that change to reflect the sovereign’s mood at the moment.
This one link serves many functions at the same time. Perhaps the most important one, to most people, is that it allows the use of the power from the great sea of amorphia (as distinct from the lesser one that Adron created), which provides the energy for sorcery. To anyone skilled enough, this power can be shaped, molded, and used for just about anything—depending, of course, on the skill of the user.
One of its less important functions, to most people, is that one need only concentrate briefly in the proper way, and one knows precisely what time it is, according to the Imperial Clock.
I have, I will admit, some small skill in sorcery. I mean, I can start a fire with it, or teleport if I have to, or kill someone with it—if he isn’t very good, and I get lucky. On the other hand, I only rarely have a use for it. But the Imperial Clock has been a friend that I could count on for years.
Eight hours past noon, every other day (and today was one), Morrolan inspected his guard positions personally. He would go outside of Castle Black, and teleport from tower to tower, speaking with the guards and checking them over. There was rarely, if ever, anything to correct or to criticize, but it was very effective for troop morale. It was also one of relatively few things that Morrolan did with any regularity.
Eight hours past noon, on this day, the day after we had met in my office, Morrolan was inspecting his guard positions, and so was not in the banquet hall of Castle Black.