Page 25 of The Book of Taltos


  “Okay.”

  After a few minutes he said, “Nothing I can see, boss. You’re almost up to the clearing where they caught you.”

  “Oh. That explains it, then.”

  “It does?”

  We got there. The ashes in the fire were quite cold by now. Aibynn found his drum, looked it over, and nodded. If it had been destroyed, I’d have been convinced he was friendly to us. As it was, I still owed him something, but I had no way of knowing what sort of payment he deserved. Time would tell. He also hunted around some more, then gave a small sound of satisfaction and pulled a mass of fur from near the tree I’d fallen from. He shook it and put it on his head.

  “What kind of animal was that?” I asked.

  “A norska.”

  “Oh, yes, I see.” It was dark brown and white, and still had the norska face in it, with the fangs showing. It didn’t look nearly as absurd or disgusting as it ought to have. We resumed our walk.

  I allowed myself to feel cautiously optimistic; the entire army of Greenaere, if there was one, would have a hard time keeping Aliera away from that boat, especially if Morrolan was on the other end.

  “The sky is getting light in the east,” said Aliera.

  “We’re not going to make it,” said Cawti.

  “Tell me where the bay is,” said Aibynn. “I can probably get us there during flood tomorrow without being seen.”

  “In the daylight?” I said.

  He nodded.

  Cawti said, “What do you mean, probably?”

  “It depends which bay you mean. If it’s Chottmon’s Bay, there’s too much open ground.”

  We all studied him. “If Daymar were here,” said Aliera, “he could mind-probe him and—”

  “If Daymar were here,” I said, “he’d still be back at the Palace studying the weave on the rugs while the army took potshots at his back.”

  “Does he like rugs?” inquired Aibynn.

  “All right,” said Aliera. “I’ll inform Morrolan of the delay. The bay is marked by a high pinnacle, like a crown, on one side, and a stand of tall thin trees on the other. It is about a quarter of a mile across, and there is a small barren islet in the middle.”

  “Dark Woman’s Cove,” said Aibynn. “No problem.”

  “Remember,” I said. “This is—”

  “Yes. A knife.”

  He set out in the lead. We moved slowly, but steadily, and didn’t run into anyone looking for us. Aibynn appeared to wander aimlessly, hardly looking where he was going and never stopping to look around. I stayed right behind him, ready to stick a knife in his kidney at the first sign that he’d betrayed us. If he knew this, he didn’t give any indication, and it was the middle of the afternoon when we saw the little bay, with a lonely ship sitting in the middle of it.

  We waited in the woods that came right up to the beach while they sent a boat for us. Cawti still had hardly spoken to me.

  HE STOOD ON THE prow of the ship, tall, aloof, Dragaeran, and dry. The Orca on the ship assisted us without any questions, and a few of them gave him dark looks. I suspect these had to do with Blackwand, sheathed at his side. No one wants to be that close to any Morganti weapon, and Blackwand was the kind of blade that survivors write dirges about.

  He and Aliera were cousins, both of the House of the Dragon, which meant they preferred a good battle to a good meal—practically my definition of madness. They were young as Dragaerans go, less than five hundred years old. I’d live out my entire life while they were both young, but no sense in dwelling on that. He wore the black and silver of the House of the Dragon with the emphasis on the black, she with the emphasis on the silver. She was short and quick; he was tall and just as quick. The three of us got acquainted one day in the Paths of the Dead. Well, that isn’t strictly true, but never mind. There were things that made us friends in spite of differences in species, House, class, and how important we rated food, but never mind that, either. He was there, waiting, when the boat with two undistinguished Orca brought us to the ship.

  He gave Aibynn a curious glance, but didn’t mention him. He gave a crisp order, and the ship swung a little, shook, turned, settled, and began to move. We sailed neatly away from the island, as if the escape had been no major feat at all. Which, I suppose, it really hadn’t, my nerves to the contrary.

  I watched the splotch that was Greenaere begin to grow smaller against the reddish horizon, and a tightness in my chest of which I hadn’t been aware began to ease. I glanced at the crew, and was a bit disappointed that they were strangers; for some reason I wouldn’t have minded running into Yinta, or someone else from Chorba’s Pride. On the other hand, I wasn’t seasick, in spite of no longer having the charm I’d set out with.

  Spray hit my face and stung my eyes as the sails above me snapped full, dragging the ship along. Morrolan stood next to me, Aliera next to him. Aibynn was near the front, the prow or the bow or whatever, doing something to his drum. Cawti was not in sight. I said, “I owe you one, Morrolan.”

  He said, “I’m disturbed.”

  “About my owing you something?”

  “Daymar said he couldn’t maintain the contact with you.”

  “Yes. I wondered about that.”

  “I feel something on that island.”

  Aliera said, “There’s a reason why our links to the Orb were severed. It wasn’t the distance.”

  “It mislikes me,” said Morrolan.

  I said, “Huh?”

  “He doesn’t like it,” said Aliera.

  “Oh.”

  Morrolan shifted slightly, keeping his eyes on the island. His long fingers rubbed the large ruby on his silver shirt. I looked back. The island was almost invisible now. Loiosh was on my shoulder. I said, “Where’s Rocza?”

  “She stayed home.”

  “Not the oceangoing type?”

  “I guess not. She was worried about you, though.”

  “That’s good to hear. You must have had quite a flight getting back to shore.”

  He didn’t answer at once. Images came to mind that reminded me very much of a dream I’d just had. My imaginary wings still ached. He said, “I was worried about you, boss.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  I left Morrolan and Aliera there and walked around the deck until I found Cawti. She was studying the ocean ahead as I’d been watching behind. There was even more spray here; heavy droplets instead of a fine mist. Night was sneaking up behind day, ready to strike.

  “You seem not to trust your friend,” she said.

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why did you bring him along?”

  “If they aren’t playing some kind of game, then I owe him.”

  “I see. You always pay your debts, don’t you, Vlad?”

  “I detect a note of irony in your voice.”

  She gave me no answer.

  “You rescued me,” I said after a while.

  “Did you doubt we would?”

  “I didn’t know you could. I didn’t know Loiosh would be able to cross that much water.”

  “It must have been hard for you.”

  “Not as hard as—” I stopped, studied my fingernails, and said, “It wasn’t that bad.”

  She nodded, still not looking at me.

  I said, “I’m glad the revolution could spare you for a few days.”

  “Don’t be snide.”

  I bit my lip. “I hadn’t actually intended that the way it sounded.”

  She nodded again. There was a splash off to the left. Probably more orca, but I’d missed them. She spoke softly, so I could hardly hear her over the creaking and wind.

  “I watch the passing hours dress

  Themselves in robes of twilight grey,

  And sit here, pale and powerless

  To halt the ending of the day.

  “A bitter tale it seemed to me

  Who thought my lesson fully learned

  To open wounds I deemed to be

  Unfairly dealt, not truly earne
d.

  “But tomorrow we begin again

  To open veins for words to say:

  Enlightenment through common pain,

  Dressed in robes of twilight grey.”

  After an interval of tossing ship and breaking waves I said, “Sounds Eastern.”

  “It’s mine.”

  I looked at her. She didn’t move. I said, “I didn’t know you wrote poetry.”

  “There’s a great deal that—no. Sorry. It came to me a few nights ago, as I was sitting there, worried about you. Or maybe wondering if I should be more worried about you; I don’t know which.”

  “A bitter tale,” I agreed. “What does it mean?”

  She shrugged. “How should I know?”

  “You wrote it.”

  “Yes. Well, if there was something buried in it that I was trying to say, I don’t know what it is.”

  “Let me know if you get any ideas.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched.

  I watched the ocean do its ocean stuff some more. Up and down, and across, going nowhere. That kind of thing.

  “I’m trying,” said Cawti, “to think of something deep and philosophical to say about waves, but I’m not having any luck.”

  “You’ll find something.”

  She shook her head. “No, but I ought to. About how they start somewhere, and keep coming closer, then they move you around and keep going, but we don’t know what causes them, or where they come from, or, well, something like that.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “You made a lot of waves, didn’t you, Vlad?”

  “Are you speaking in general or in specific?”

  “Both, I guess. No, in specific.”

  “Do you mean the whole business of the last few months, with the Organization, and the Empire, and your friend Kelly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, I guess I made a lot of waves. I didn’t have much choice.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “I wonder what Herth is up to.”

  “Word is, he’s happily retired on what you gave him for South Adrilankha.”

  “South Adrilankha,” I repeated. “The Easterners’ ghetto.”

  “Yes.”

  “And now I’m the one who runs it.”

  “Not all of it.”

  “No. Just the illegal parts.”

  “Going to clean it up?”

  “Do I detect a note of irony in your voice?”

  “A note? No. A symphony, perhaps.”

  “You don’t think I can, or you don’t think I will?”

  “I don’t think you can.”

  “Who’s to stop me?”

  After perhaps a minute she said, “What do you mean, clean it up? Just what illegal activities do you intend to continue?”

  “The ones they want. I’ll make sure the gambling is fair, that the whore-houses are clean and the tags are treated well, that the loans are at reasonable rates, that—”

  “How can gambling be fair for people who can’t afford to gamble at all? How much does it help to give fair treatment to people who are selling their bodies? What is a reasonable loan rate to someone who has gone into debt because he lost everything at one of your tables, and how will you collect from those who can’t pay?”

  I shrugged. “It’s going to go on, anyway. I’ll be better than anyone else.”

  “I think I’ve made my point.”

  “I can’t solve all the problems of the whole world. And neither can your friend Kelly, however much he thinks he can.”

  “Have you been paying attention lately? Haven’t you seen it?”

  “Seen what? Parades of Teckla through the streets? People in parks shouting at each other about things they already agree with? Posters that say—”

  “And now there are Phoenix Guards watching them, Vlad. And I mean Phoenix Guards—not Teckla put into cloaks and given spears. That means they’re scared, Vlad, and it means they don’t dare use conscripts. Do you think maybe they know something you don’t? Three weeks ago, even two weeks ago, none of that was going on except in South Adrilankha. Now you even see some of it on Lower Kieron. At this rate, what’s going to happen in another two weeks? Another two months?”

  “In my opinion, not much.”

  “I’m aware that you think so. But perhaps—”

  “No, I don’t want to argue about your damned revolution.”

  She shrugged “You brought it up.”

  “Can we talk about us?”

  “Yes,” she said, but I found I didn’t have anything clever to say after that.

  The ship plunged, the waves broke around it, to re-form in our wake as if we’d never been. I wanted to say something deep and philosophical about that, but nothing came to mind.

  “I’m going to get some sleep,” I said. “If Aibynn starts drumming, throw him overboard.” I shifted with the waves until I found the tiny ladder that led to the area below the deck. I found a place to stretch out, located a blanket, and let the ship rock me to sleep.

  IT MUST HAVE BEEN about ten hours later that the same rocking woke me up. I stumbled up the ladder, banged my shoulder against something metal that some idiot had fastened to the wall (I think it was a hinge), scraped my shin when my feet slipped on the ladder, and made it onto the deck. Morrolan was still where I’d left him. The orange-red sky was hidden by low grey clouds, and the wind was vicious indeed. Morrolan’s cloak whipped about him in a frenzy of romantic appeal. I was still wearing the shapeless robe I’d been given while imprisoned, or I’d have been romantic, too. Sure. I made my way along the railing until I was next to him.

  “Rough sea,” I said, almost shouting above the roar of water and wind and creaking wood. He nodded. I looked around, suddenly thinking how flimsy the ship was. I said, “Anything unnatural about the weather?”

  He gave me a funny look. “Why do you ask?”

  “Tell you the truth, I don’t know. Is there?”

  He shook his head.

  Loiosh landed on my shoulder. “Think we’re in for a storm?” I asked him.

  “How should I know?”

  “I thought animals had instincts about that kind of thing.”

  “Heh.”

  “What do you make of friend Aibynn?”

  “I don’t know, boss. He’s funny.”

  “Yeah.”

  I checked the time through my link to the Orb, found out it was well before noon, but long past when I usually break my fast, and realized I was hungry. I started to ask Morrolan about food when it hit me. “I have my link to the Orb again.”

  He nodded. Talkative son of a bitch.

  “When did it happen?”

  “During the night sometime.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about food?”

  “There’s bread and cheese and whitefruit and dried kethna below.”

  “That’ll do. Couldn’t we just teleport home from here?”

  “Go ahead. I’m in no hurry.”

  “If we run into a storm—”

  “I’ve decided that we won’t.”

  “Ah. Never mind, then.”

  I went below again, found the food, and did appropriate things with it.

  AS THE NEXT DAY’S dawn spilled an orangish tint on the sea to our right, the city of Adrilankha peered down from the Whitecrest Hills and spread her port and docks like a lap to receive us. The sailors gave us, and Morrolan in particular, ugly looks, because they knew he’d managed the winds that had brought us home so quickly, and Orca, I’ve learned, believe that if one conjures fair winds, nature will respond with a storm as soon as she can manage it. Perhaps they’re right. But Adrilankha, staring down at us like a great white bird, the cliffs her wings and her head the great manor of the Lyorn Daro, Countess of Whitecrest, didn’t seem to care. Neither did I, for that matter.

  As we passed Beacon Rock, the crew raised a bucket of water from the sea and spilled it on the deck, a ritual I’ve always
wondered about, since I’m told that Adrilankha is the only port at which it is performed. They went through it mechanically, then prepared ropes and did other sailor things that I understood no better than I had the last time I saw them.

  But I wasn’t really watching then. Aliera was next to me, Morrolan next to her, with Aibynn on my other side, and Cawti a little further away. Loiosh was on my right shoulder. I wondered what was passing through their minds as the city grew before us, one building at a time: the Old Castle, where the Three Barons had practiced their strange magics during an Athyra reign a few cycles ago; Michaagu’s, perhaps the best restaurant in the Empire except for Valabar’s; the Wine Exchange, fat and brown, built of stone that plunged deep into the hill.

  And behind them, the city. Or, rather, the cities, for we had each our own: Aliera and Morrolan, who didn’t live there, knew the Imperial Palace and her surrounding Great Houses; a perpetually trimmed garden below the slopes of the Saddle Hills. Aibynn, perhaps, saw a place as strange and wild and unknown as his island was to me. Cawti would see South Adrilankha, the Easterners’ ghetto, with her slums and her stench and her open-air markets and Easterners who walked always lightly, ready to run from the Phoenix Guards, or the occasional young Dzur adventurer, or damn near anyone else. I saw the city that held my special place along Lower Kieron Road, where the bitter of violence mixed with the sweet of luxury, and you walked with your eyes open, either to grab at a passing opportunity or to prevent yourself from becoming one.

  These cities loomed before us, one and many, growing larger and more present as we watched; they took my eyes and held them as the dock lieutenant signaled to our ship with the black and yellow flags of safe harbor, and guided us in.

  I was home, and I was afraid, and I didn’t know why.

  PART TWO

  Business Considerations

  Lesson 6

  Dealing With Middle Management I

  “PEOPLE ARE STARTING TO ask about you, Vlad,” said Kragar, two minutes before the door blew down in front of us.

  I was three days back from Greenaere. Cawti was off seeing her old friend Kelly and his merry band of nut cases and I had returned to running my business and trying to clean up South Adrilankha without filing Surrender of Debts to the Empire. (This is a joke; the Empire would not accept Jhereg debts. Just thought I should clarify that.)