He whispered to the advisor, who nodded and scurried off. “Soon,” he said, “we will have enough troops to—”
“To die,” I told him. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with. Have you ever heard of a weapon the Serioli call Magical-Wand-for-Creating-Death-in-the-Form-of-a-Black-Sword? We call it Blackwand, and my friend Morrolan wields it. How about Dagger-Shaped-Bearer-of-Fire-That-Burns-Like-Ice? Sethra Lavode of Dzur Mountain carries that. And then there’s Artifact-in-Sword-Form-That-Searches-for-the-True-Path. We call it Pathfinder, and Aliera e’Kieron carries it. Your Majesty, you are making a mistake if you think you can bring in enough troops to keep them from rescuing me if I’m still alive when they get here.”
He stared. “Is it your Empress who makes you so loyal that you will sacrifice your life for her? Or is it the Empire?”
“Neither,” I said. “They are holding my wife captive, and I hope to win her release.”
“Captive? For what?”
“Leading a rebellion.”
He stared, then began to smile, and then he laughed. “So, you sacrifice your life in the interests of the Empire that is holding your wife captive for trying to overthrow it? And you do this to win her release, so she can try to overthrow it again?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t think it was all that funny.
“Is that why you murdered my father in the first place?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Look, Your Majesty, my friends will probably be back as soon as they’ve figured out what happened. It will take them a while to perform the spell again, but I don’t know how long a while that will be. If I’m still alive when they get here, things will get very bloody very fast. And, to be honest, I’m not enjoying standing around very much. Why don’t we just get this over with?”
“My dear assassin,” said the King. “We intend to execute you. We are not about to just cut you down on the spot.”
“Then you’re a fool,” I snapped.
“Do you really think they can be back so quickly?”
“Probably not, but I have no way of knowing. Right now, they’re probably arguing with each other about that very issue. By now they’ve already decided to do it, and are figuring out if they remember the place well enough. They are not just standing around; I know them.”
He nodded. “What about those—those beasts of yours.”
“They won’t hurt you.”
“You think not? Boss, I’m going to kill anyone who tries to touch you.”
“You will not.”
“How are you going to stop me?”
“Loiosh, this is for Cawti.”
“Yeah? So?”
I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, Your Majesty, but there’s a bit of a problem here, after all. Give me a moment to work this out.”
“With those beasts?”
“They, um, they’re friends, Your Majesty, and they don’t want anyone harming me. Give me a moment to speak with them.”
He shook his head. “How does someone like you inspire such loyalty?”
“Damned if I know,” I said. “Basic integrity, I guess.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You speak lightly, but perhaps it is true. You were hired, were you not? You kill for gold?” I shrugged. “If I paid you enough, would you kill the man who hired you?”
I thought about attempting to assassinate Verra and laughed. “Not likely in this case, I’m afraid.”
“A shame,” he said. “Because you are nothing more than a tool, and I would rather have the wielder of the tool. Yes, I will kill you, and your poisonous friends as well, if necessary, and I will hold with the bargain I made. But I would much rather know who gave the order, so I can strike him down instead. Come. I offer you your life. Will you tell me?”
Was I supposed to tell him it was a god? Would he believe me? What would he do if he did? It was laughable. I said, “Sorry, the rules don’t permit it. Let’s get this done, shall we? Here, hand me that pouch of mine.” No one moved. “Oh, come now,” I said, “if I’d been planning to kill you, I would have done so when I had all the odds on my side.”
The King nodded, and they released me and handed me the pouch, still watching me closely. I removed a couple of powders and set them on the floor.
“Boss, that’s not fair.”
“Neither is life, chum.” “There,” I said aloud. “Mix those powders together equally, dissolve them in water. If anyone is bit by one of my friends, that will make sure they take no worse effect than a bit of illness. It’s what I used while training them. I assume you have someone who doesn’t mind a bite or two?”
The King turned to bushy-brows. “Let it be done, then.”
My old interrogator nodded and said, “By what means?”
“Send for an axe, and let his head be struck off.”
“You know,” I said, “that you’ll get blood all over the floor.”
“It can be cleaned,” said the King. Then, “Don’t you even care?”
I looked at his young face, and wondered how close he had been to the King his father, whom I had killed. I wondered once more about Verra, who had set all this in motion, and I regretted that I wouldn’t have a chance to tell her about it in detail. “What’s the difference?” I said. “Sure, I care. When has that changed anything?”
They sent for an axe, and while they were waiting for it about forty more island warriors arrived. Then the axe came, and once more they took my arms. The two holding me glanced nervously at the jhereg, and at the vials of powder on the floor.
“Boss, you can’t just let them—”
“Watch me.”
I looked at the axe. It was a very ugly thing that was intended for chopping down trees, not people. I hoped they’d be able to strike off my head without too many tries—it isn’t as easy as you might think. I winced. “I hope it’s sharp,” I said.
“It is sharp,” said the King.
Bushy-brows took the axe, but just as he turned toward me, before they could put me into the proper position, there began a faint blue glow in the room. It grew brighter as we watched.
“Took too long,” I said.
“Prepare to attack,” said the King.
I wondered if I should help keep my friends from being slaughtered or try to talk them out of saving me. I still hadn’t decided when Aliera was suddenly there, Pathfinder naked in her hand, and, of all people, Aibynn, drum in hand, looking innocent and foolish.
“Attack!” cried the King.
“Wait!” cried Aliera.
Somehow, her voice stopped them, and everyone stood there, the air filled with naked swords and the awful power of the Great Weapon, and as they stood I became aware of someone else, on the floor, right at Aliera’s feet. When I saw who it was, bound and gagged, I almost started laughing.
“What is this?” cried the King.
“I am Aliera e’Kieron of the House of the Dragon. I will have words with you, or slaughter. Will you let me speak?”
If they’d been able to send all three of them, or even any two, the issue would never have been in doubt. As it was, with Aliera unable to use sorcery, it could get ugly. If they attacked her, there would be a great deal of death, and I realized that, promise or not, I could not stand there and let them kill her. I still had a few weapons on me, and there was my familiar, as well. “Loiosh, get ready. You and Rocza. If they start—”
“We’re ready, boss.”
The King was standing now in front of his raised throne, and he looked at me, back at the almost-conflict, and said, “Say what you have to say.”
“I offer you a trade,” she said, sheathing her blade. “Give us the assassin, and we will give you the man who hired him. What say you?”
The King stood. “Indeed? I’d just been saying . . . remove his gag. I want to hear what he has to say for himself.”
They stood him up and did this, and you would not want to hear the things he called me. It was positively
shameful. I kept my face impassive. The King interrupted him at last and said, “You need not hate the one you paid for evil you were too cowardly to commit yourself. He never gave your name.”
He drew himself up as well as he could, with feet and hands still bound, and said, “I deny having anything to do with this or any other assassination.”
The King tapped his front teeth with his fingernails and said to Aliera, “How am I to know this is the guilty one?”
She bowed, came forward, and handed him two large yellow parchments that had been getting crushed in her belt. One I recognized from the parchment as the treaty the King had just signed. The other—
“It bears your Imperial seal,” he said. “I recognize it. And is signed by Zerika herself.” He nodded. “That will do.” He turned to Boralinoi. “Why did you want my father killed?” he demanded.
“I did not. It is all a lie. I never—”
“Kill him,” said the King.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
“What?” said the King.
“Well,” I said, “you heard what he said about me.”
The King looked at me, then smiled. “Very well, do it. Give him the axe.”
I wanted to laugh aloud, but held it in check. I said, “I don’t know much about axes. May I use a knife?”
Boralinoi screamed his rage and began tugging furiously at the bonds and cursing me and everything else in sight. I still wanted to laugh. The King nodded. I took a knife from a sheath between my shoulder blades as they forced Boralinoi to his knees.
“Hold his head steady,” I said, and two of them came forward to do this. He never stopped screeching his rage until they held his jaws shut.
Sometimes, over the course of my life, I’ve felt regret for killing someone. Other times, not. I said quite clearly, “Sorry, boss, a job’s a job,” and put my blade neatly into his left eye. He screamed, convulsed, twitched, and died. I stared down at his body and was not displeased.
I looked at the King and wondered idly what would happen next. “Let’s go boss,” said Loiosh. I still hadn’t quite accepted that I was going to get out of this. Aliera caught my eye and motioned me to her.
Bushy-brows said, “Your Majesty—”
“Yes,” said the King. He turned toward Aliera. “You may go. The others will be staying.”
Aliera stared at him. “Is that how you keep your word?”
“I never gave my word,” said the King. “Even by implication.”
“I’m beginning to take a dislike to you,” I said.
He ignored me. “Go. You have your peace. I’ll take the assassins.”
I thought the idea that, after all of this, I was going to die here after all was rather silly. So did Aliera, apparently, for she drew Pathfinder and the sensation of it filled the room. That was enough of a distraction to give me time to grab Spellbreaker, my cloak, and my rapier. I swung it around so the sheath went flying in the general direction of the King. One of the guards bravely stepped in front of it and went down clutching at his chest; I’ll tell you about my sheath sometime.
I stepped over to Aliera and we stood back-to-back, waiting for them to charge. This would have been a perfect time for Sethra and Daymar to have come through. Aliera whispered, “It’s going to be a while yet; they’re exhausted.”
“Great,” I said.
“Attack,” said the King.
“The door,” I said.
Aliera led the way with Pathfinder, followed by Aibynn, while I guarded their back and sides, jabbing wildly with my rapier and swinging just as wildly with my cloak. I think the cloak did more damage than my sword, but Pathfinder, well, there were screams. Loiosh and Rocza flew into everyone’s face and added to the confusion.
Let’s just say we reached the door and leave it at that, all right? Once there, there were a few more of them in the hall, but they seemed less inclined to tangle with Pathfinder than the others had been, and then we were outside.
“Now what?” said Aliera.
“Run,” I suggested.
“Where?”
“Follow me,” said Aibynn.
“Just a moment,” said Aliera. She pointed her weapon at the door and muttered something under her breath while making arcane gestures with her free hand. The door collapsed, burying a few guards with it and leaving three of them between the door and us.
They looked at the door, looked at Pathfinder, looked at each other.
“Well?” I said.
They said nothing. We took off, following pretty much the same route I’d taken before.
“What was that?” said Aibynn.
“Pre-Empire sorcery,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“Pretty effective,” I said. I looked back. The three guards had decided to help dig their friends out of the rubble of the ruins of the front hall rather than to follow us. Wise.
We kept our speed up until we were rather deep in the forest, then we paused to catch our breath.
“Thanks, Aliera.”
“Think nothing of it. I hope I didn’t upset a plan.”
“You did. That’s why I said thank you. How did you acquire Boralinoi?”
“Courtesy of the Empress.”
“Does she know he isn’t really guilty?”
“He’s guilty. Maybe not of killing the King, but he’s guilty.”
“Is that what the Empress said?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. How did you get here so fast?”
“Sethra. Daymar. Aibynn. The Orb.”
“The Orb?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” I turned to Aibynn. “How did you happen to come along?”
He shrugged. “I thought I might be able to help you get out.”
“How?”
“Well, I could drum.”
I looked at him. “Loiosh, do you trust him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah. Me neither. This could still be—”
“I know.”
Rocza fluttered off my shoulder and landed on Aibynn’s. He seemed startled, but handled it gracefully enough.
“She trusts him, boss.”
I looked at Aibynn, then looked at Rocza. I sighed. “Drum away,” I said. “Let’s sit down,” said Aibynn.
We did so.
He began to drum.
Lesson 17
Dealing With Upper Management II
I STUDIED THE WHITE hallway and said, “Either the Imperial Palace or—”
“It’s not the Imperial Palace,” said Aliera.
Aibynn was still sitting down. He seemed rather drained and tired. He stopped drumming and smiled wanly.
“How,” I said, “did this happen?”
“Ask him,” said Aliera, indicating Aibynn.
“Well?” I said.
“Sometimes,” he said, “when you drum, you . . . it’s hard to describe. You reach places. Didn’t you feel it?”
“No,” I said quickly, just as Aliera was saying “Yes.”
“Boss—”
“Well, okay, maybe,” I amended. “But why this place?”
“It was what you two were both thinking about.” That was true; I’d been thinking how pleasant it would be to give Verra a piece of my mind, but why would Aliera have been thinking about it?
I said, “Why you?” at just the same moment she said it to me. I shrugged, turned to Aibynn, and said, “So all this time, you’ve really been nothing more than a drummer?”
For the first time, he seemed really surprised. “You mean you didn’t believe me?”
“Let’s just say I wondered.”
Aliera stood up and said, “Let’s go.”
She seemed to know her way, so I followed her. It was only a short walk, this time, until we reached the doors, which were standing open. There was no cat this time. I thought I saw something or someone disappear behind the throne, but I wasn’t sure. In any case, the goddess was there.
She sai
d, “Hello, Aliera, Vlad.”
“Hello, Mother,” said Aliera.
Mother?
“Who is your friend, and what brings you here?”
“His name is Aibynn,” said Aliera. “He brought us here to save our lives.”
Mother?
“I see. Shall I send you back, then, or is there something I can do for you?”
Mother?
“Send us back, Mother. We—”
“Excuse me,” I said. “Do you mean that literally?”
“Mean what?” said Aliera.
“You’re calling her ‘Mother.’”
“Oh, yes. Why? You didn’t know?”
“You never told me.”
“You never asked.”
“Of all the—never mind. Goddess, if you’d be kind enough to send them back, I would have words with you that they don’t need to hear.”
Aliera stared at me. “I don’t like your tone, Vlad.”
I started to snap at her, but the goddess said, “It’s all right, Aliera. He has some cause.”
She looked unhappy, but said, “Very well.”
“We can’t take long,” said the Demon Goddess, “or you’ll be late for your appointment.”
“Appointment?”
“With the Empress.”
“I have an appointment with the Empress?”
“Yes. Morrolan has the message waiting for you, but I may as well tell you myself.”
I licked my lips. “In that case,” I told Aibynn, “I’ll meet you outside the Imperial Wing of the Palace.”
“All right,” he said, still appearing exhausted.
The goddess said, “You interest me, drummer. Perhaps, sometime, you’d care to play for me.”
“Sure.”
I could have warned him that accepting work from the Demon Goddess didn’t always work out the way one would like, but I thought it might be tactless. Aliera walked up and kissed Verra on the cheek. Verra smiled maternally. It was very strange. Aliera stepped back and nodded; she and Aibynn vanished.
I was about to start in on the goddess when a small girl emerged from behind the throne. I caught myself and said, “Hello, Devera.”
“’Lo, Uncle Vlad.”
“Why were you hiding?”
“I can’t let Mama see me yet.”
“Why not?”