by Steven Brust
Her eyes narrowed. “I believe that, Jhereg. What do you want?”
I said, “There are not witnesses who can implicate Domm, you know.”
“Except Vonnith.”
“Yes. Except Vonnith and Reega. Will you be going after Vonnith?”
“Maybe. I don’t know if I can touch her. I’ll have to check with—” She got a look of distaste on her features. “With Shortisle and Indus.”
“Reega?”
“Not a chance. She gets away with it.”
“I thought so. Well, that’s fine. I don’t care. Everyone involved in killing Fyres deserves an Imperial Title, as far as I’m concerned. But I do care about Vonnith.”
“As I say, I don’t know if I can—”
I held up my hand. “You can put pressure on her, and a little pressure is all it should take.”
“For what?”
“To get her to cough up the deed to a small piece of property on the north side of town. A very small piece, a couple of acres, with a hideously ugly blue cottage on it. There’s an old woman living there. I can’t pronounce her name, but here it is.” I passed it to her and enjoyed watching her lips move as she tried to figure out how to say it.
Then she said, “That’s all you want?”
“What do you want, Ensign?”
She glared at me. “I want . . .” She stopped glaring, but continued staring, if you know what I mean.
“What do you want?” I repeated. “What would please you right now?”
“I . . .”
“Yes?” I said.
“Are you—?”
I looked away and waited.
Presently she said, “You used to be in the Jhereg?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And what, exactly, did you do?”
I turned back to her. “You know what I did.”
She nodded slowly. “The deed to the land for the old woman—that’s what you’re getting out of this?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“What about Fyres’s personal notes?”
I extracted them from inside my cloak and put them on the table. She looked at them, riffled through them, nodded, and put them in her pouch.
She said, “Are you, uh, going to be somewhere for a while?”
I remembered the area and said, “This is as good a place as any, I think.”
“Yes,” she said. “I suppose it is.”
She looked at me for a long time, and then she picked up her dagger and sheathed it. She reached for the wine, poured herself a glass, held it up to me, and drank. She held out her hand to Loiosh. He hesitated a moment, then hopped over to her wrist. She studied him for a moment, looking closely into his eyes and showing no sign of fear at all.
“I’ve never been this close to one of these before. It looks very intelligent.”
“More intelligent than me sometimes,” I said. “That’s just banter, Loiosh. Forget I said it.”
“No chance, boss. You’re stuck with that forever.”
She held her hand out and Loiosh hopped back over to my shoulder. She took out a handkerchief and wiped her wrist, then folded the handkerchief and put it away.
Then she looked at me and nodded.
“You got it, Easterner,” she said.
16
AND THEN, KIERA, I waited. And, as I waited, I was just a bit nervous.
I mean, you speak Jhereg—You know what we were talking about, or, rather, not talking about; and of course I knew, but I wasn’t sure if Timmer knew. I thought she did, I hoped she did, but I didn’t know, and so I sat there and waited and was nervous, in spite of Loiosh’s comments designed to irritate me into relaxing.
No, don’t ask me to explain that.
By this time I had blended into the background of the public house, and no one was really looking at me, so at least I didn’t have that to worry about. In fact, Kiera, while I was nervous about Timmer, I wasn’t really worried about anything; it seemed that the time for worrying was well past; besides, I had plans to make, and the time to worry is when you don’t have anything else to do. I’m not sure who said that; I think it was you.
An hour later she came back and sat down. She looked at me. There was no expression on her face.
I said, “Well?”
She said, “I’ve asked the local magistrate for a seizure card. Just temporary, of course; until the investigation is over.”
“For me?”
“Yes, for you. Of course,” she added, “I don’t know your real name, so I had to mark it ‘name unknown,’ but I know that you have information about Fyres’s death, and that’s what we’re investigating.”
“I understand. When will it go into effect?”
“In about fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes,” I repeated. “All right.”
“Until that time,” she said carefully, “I cannot legally stop you from leaving the city, or even this public house; but I would ask, from one loyal citizen to another, that you consider your duty to the Empire and remain here, as a gesture of cooperation.”
“Here?”
“Yes. The card will be served here.”
“Will you be remaining here as well, to serve the card?”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible; I have to act on the information that you’ve given me. But, ah, someone will be by to serve it as soon as it’s ready.”
“About twenty minutes, then.”
“Or less.” She stared off at nothing. “Someone will be arriving with it, directly from the magistrate.”
“And where is the magistrate?”
“A quarter of a mile away. To the east.”
I nodded. “All right,” I said.
I started to drink some more wine, then thought better of it. Wine sometimes affects me very quickly. “I’m afraid,” I said slowly, “that I’m going to have to decline. I’ll be running from the seizure, so you will have to send someone after me to serve it.”
“I thought you might,” she said. “Unfortunately, I cannot, at this time, detain you.”
“I’m already being hunted,” I pointed out.
“Not by the Empire.”
“No,” I said. “That’s true. Not by the Empire.”
“With some crimes, the Empire looks for the fugitive harder than with other crimes. And there are even some crimes, some very serious crimes, that never get properly handled, and where descriptions are lost or mixed up.”
“I understand,” I said.
She rose to her feet. “Too bad I can’t stay to serve the card,” she said. “But duty calls.”
“In a very clear voice,” I said.
“I’ll see you again,” she said.
“Why, yes. If I’m arrested—”
“Detained.”
“Detained. Right. If I’m detained, then, no doubt, I’ll be at City Hall tomorrow, being interrogated.”
“And if you’re not?”
“Who knows?” I said. “You know, I rather like this place. It’s especially nice at this time of the evening.”
“Yes,” she said. She opened her mouth as if she had something else to say, but closed it again, leaving whatever it was unsaid. Then she stood and left without any ceremony whatsoever.
I waited a decent interval—say, about a minute—then I settled the score, got up, and went outside. It was a lovely, crisp day, with the winter not yet arrived. The street was almost empty of people. I looked around carefully, as did Loiosh, and we consulted.
There were about a hundred places to choose from in an area like this, but I settled on a doorway right next to the public house—it was deep, and quiet, and didn’t look like it got much use. I slumped against it and sent Rocza into the air.
I stood there for perhaps twenty minutes. A few people walked by but none of them noticed me. One elderly Teckla walked past me to go into the building whose doorway I was occupying, but even he didn’t appear to notice me
as I stepped out of his way. You taught me how to do that, Kiera; you said it’s more attitude than anything else. Maybe you’re right.
“Rocza says he’s coming, boss.”
“The right way, or the wrong way?”
“The right way. From the east.”
“Can’t ask for better than that.”
I let a dagger fall into my hand. It was one of the new ones. I wiped the hilt on my cloak, as much for luck as for any other reason, then took my position.
Domm walked right past me. There was a rolled-up piece of paper in his hand, no doubt the seizure card, naming some nameless person who happened to be me as a witness wanted for questioning in an Imperial investigation.
Pretty serious stuff.
I fell into step behind him, and I left nothing to chance, nor did I speak. Afterward, I continued past, walking easily, as if nothing had happened. I turned a corner, and then another, and Rocza informed Loiosh, who informed me, that no one was following me.
Interlude
“DID IT SEEM TO bother him?”
“Killing Domm? I don’t think so. Should it have?”
“I’m not sure. I suppose I would have been happier if it had, but—”
“You’ve changed, Cawti.”
“So has he.”
“Not as much as you have.”
“From what you’ve told me, I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Come to think of it, neither am I. But . . .”
“Yes?”
“There’s so much you’re leaving out. I can see the gaps in your story.”
“I told you—”
“I know, I know.”
“In any case, that was about it.”
“And there’s another gap.”
“Cawti—”
“Sorry. You mean, you just left after that?”
“Pretty much, yes. There was a bit of excitement that proved to be nothing, and we got some reassurances, and then Vlad took Savn and went away for parts unknown, and I came back home where I found your letter waiting for me.”
“Tell me about the excitement that proved to be nothing, and about the reassurances.”
“All right. What is it?”
“I don’t know, Kiera. It’s good to hear this, but it just makes me want to find out more.”
“Are you going to try to?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“All right.”
“Should we have more tea?”
“I think something stronger.”
“Good idea.”
“And then some food. I’ll buy.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“Is there a hint of irony there, Cawti?”
“No, actually, I don’t think there is.”
17
“AND THEN I CAME back here,” he concluded.
“What next?”
“As I said, we arranged that I’d meet her tomorrow evening at that same place, and she’ll give me the deed to this chunk of land. And that is the story of my latest triumph.”
“Triumph,” I repeated. “Will it still be a triumph tomorrow, when you walk into that public house to find yourself arrested, if you’re lucky, or surrounded by Jhereg if you’re not?”
“She promised,” said Vlad smugly.
“And what,” I said, “makes you think you can trust her?”
“Instinct,” he said.
I bit back a nasty reply. As much as we’d both bungled these last few days, I still trusted my own instincts, so I could hardly blame him for trusting his. The thing is, I didn’t trust his.
He said, “Okay, maybe that was one more screwup. But, Kiera, it felt right. Loftis was her friend, and her superior officer, and an associate. I don’t know, maybe she hated his guts. But—”
I shook my head. “No, you’re probably right, only—” I stopped.
“What is it?” he said.
“I don’t know. A spell of some kind, centered around here.”
“Aw nuts,” said Vlad.
“Perhaps,” I said slowly, “we had best gather up Savn and Hwdf’rjaanci and head into the woods while we can.”
“I don’t believe it,” he said.
“I think,” I said carefully, “that it was a location spell.”
He gave me an odd look and said, “The Jhereg?”
“Maybe.”
“Where can we go?”
I cursed softly and didn’t answer.
He said, “You take the old woman and the boy and make tracks. It’s only me they want.”
“Wrong answer, Vlad.”
“Heh.”
He walked into the house, emerging a minute later with his sword belt. He wore no cloak at all and had several knives strapped to his body. He said, “Go, Kiera.”
“Not a chance.”
He indicated the house. “What about them? Can’t you stash them someplace and then retrieve them later, if there is a later?”
Well, in point of fact, I could. Then something else happened. “Someone has just teleported into the area,” I said. “About a quarter of a mile away.”
“How many?”
“One.”
“One?”
“That’s right.”
He shook his head. “If it’s Mario, there’s no point in trying to run, and if it isn’t, well, there isn’t any other one person I’m particularly afraid of.”
I nodded. I felt the same way, except that I didn’t have his superstitious dread of Mario.
He drew his blade and waited. “May I borrow a knife?” I said.
“You don’t want to use your own?”
“I’m not armed,” I told him.
“Oh, yes. I forgot.” He handed me a weapon. I tested the feel, the balance, and the edge, and then we stood back-to-back and waited. Loiosh and Rocza sat on Vlad’s shoulders. Buddy came out of the house, sniffed curiously, then sat down next to us; it was somehow comforting that he was there, though I didn’t know if he’d be useful.
Vlad saw her first. He said, “There she is.”
I turned. She was walking through the woods toward us, a sword at her side, but her hands were empty. Buddy stood up and started growling, and a glance told me that his teeth were bared. Well, well.
The woman ignored Buddy, and ignored the fact that Vlad and I were holding weapons, but nodded hello to each of us as she stopped about five feet away and looked at the cottage.
“It is blue,” she said.
“You thought I lied?” said Vlad.
She shrugged. “It was a possibility. But you told the truth about everything else, so—”
“How did you find me?”
“In the public house,” she said. “With the help of your uh, familiar, is that the right word?”
Vlad used a word he wouldn’t have wanted Hwdf’rjaanci to hear. “A bit of Loiosh’s skin on the handkerchief,” he said. “And then you went to a sorcerer with it, and located him, because you knew you couldn’t locate me.”
She nodded. “Shall we go inside?”
“Let’s settle it out here,” said Vlad.
“Settle what?” said Timmer.
“Aren’t you here to arrest me?”
“No.”
“But—”
“I wanted to meet the rest of this little troupe that’s caused so much trouble, and I thought you’d want to hear how everything came out.”
For a moment no one spoke. Then Vlad said, “Oh.”
He put his sword away, then the knife I handed him. Then he petted Buddy, who took that as a clue that everything was all right, and introduced himself to Timmer. The old woman came out as this was going on.
“Who are you?” she snapped. “And what are you doing here?”
“Ensign Timmer,” said Vlad, “this is the woman we call Mother, because her name sounds rather like a sneeze and no one but Kiera here can say it. Oh, and this is Kiera—I don’t think
you two have been introduced yet. And this is Buddy, who I think is, really, the intelligent one of the bunch—at least, he’s the one who hasn’t made any mistakes yet.”
Rocza hissed. Vlad laughed and said, “One of the two, then.”
“A pleasure, my lady,” said Timmer. “I have something for you.” I heard a quick intake of breath from Vlad.
“You got it?” he said.
She smiled. “Of course. I said I would.”
“That was quick. What’s it been, three, four hours at the most?”
“Yes. Shall we go inside?”
“By all means,” said Vlad. “After you.”
We trooped into the cottage, Hwdf’rjaanci leading and Buddy bringing up the rear. Once inside, Timmer looked around the place, then licked her lips, probably because biting them would have been too obvious. We introduced her to Savn, who almost, maybe, just a little bit, might have given a flicker of acknowledgment. Or maybe not.
“Brain fever, you said?” asked Timmer.
“There is no such thing as brain fever,” said Hwdf’rjaanci.
Vlad shrugged. Hwdf’rjaanci sat next to Savn, Vlad and I sat at the table. Timmer declined a chair, preferring to lean against the wall. Buddy curled up near Savn and Hwdf’rjaanci and tried to insinuate himself between them. Savn absently stroked Buddy’s head. That was, as far as I knew, another first. I caught Vlad’s eye and saw that he had seen it, too.
“Where shall I begin?” said Timmer. “Does everyone know what has been going on?”
“Kiera knows everything up through our conversation today. The old woman doesn’t know much of anything about the affair,” said Vlad.
“That’s because I don’t want to,” she snapped. “And I won’t thank you for telling me.”
Timmer nodded. “All right,” she said. “Do you want us to go somewhere else, then?”
“No. Say what you want, and I’ll listen, but don’t bother explaining it.”
“Very well,” said Timmer.
She turned to us. “There isn’t all that much to tell, truly. Domm was found murdered, just a few hours ago. A dagger was driven into his head.”
“Oh?” said Vlad with that assumed casualness he does so badly. “Any idea who did it?”