by Steven Brust
She sighed. “I’ve lost count of how many armies have tried to take Dzur Mountain. If it’s any consolation, he was a masterful tactician, certainly worthy of the e’Lanya line. But I had the assistance of several friends, a hired army, and Dzur Mountain itself. He gave me a bit of trouble, but the issue was never in doubt. By the end of the engagement, both of your parents were dead.”
“How?” asked Norathar through clenched teeth. A good question, too. Why weren’t they revivified?
“I don’t know. They were in the battle, but I didn’t kill them personally. They both had massive head injuries, due to sorcery. Beyond that, I can’t tell you.”
Norathar nodded, almost imperceptibly. Sethra continued. “I formally took possession of their castle, of course. We found you there. You were about four years old, I think. I had my apprentice do the scan, and you know the rest. I turned your castle over to the House. I don’t know what became of it, or your parents’ possessions. Perhaps there are relatives . . . ”
Norathar nodded again. “Thank you,” she said. “But this hardly changes—”
“There’s another thing. If my apprentice made a mistake, it reflects on me. Further, it is obvious that my actions were the immediate cause of all this. I trust Aliera’s abilities with genetics more than anyone else’s—and she says you are the product of Dragonlords on both sides, with e’Lanya dominant. I want to know what happened. I intend to investigate. If I kill you, that will make it more difficult. If you destroy me, of course, that will make it impossible. I would appreciate it if you would withhold any challenge until I’ve made this investigation. Then, if you wish, I will entertain a challenge on any terms you name.”
“Any terms?” asked Norathar. “Including plain steel?”
Sethra snorted. “Including a Jhereg duel, if you wish.”
The least shadow of a smile crossed Norathar’s lips as she seated herself. “I accept your terms,” she said. Cawti and I relaxed. Morrolan and Aliera, as far as I could tell, had been interested but unworried.
Morrolan cleared his throat and said, “Well then, perhaps we should discuss just how we’re going to proceed.”
Sethra said, “Tell me this: if there was a plot of some kind, could Baritt have been involved?”
Aliera said “No” at the same instant that Morrolan said “Yes.” I chuckled. Aliera shrugged and said, “Well, maybe.”
Morrolan snorted. “In any case,” he said, “is it likely that they could fool an Athyra? And would an Athyra be involved in a plot of this type? Not to mention a Lyorn? If this was a plot, as you say, they would have had to convince the Athyra to help, and I have trouble believing they could do that. And there is no Lyorn in the world who would go along with it—that is why they’re included in things like that.”
Sethra nodded to herself.
I said, “Excuse me, but what is the procedure for getting a Lyorn and an Athyra to help with something like this? I mean, do you just walk over to the House of the Lyorn and yell, ‘We’re doing a genetic investigation, anyone want to help?’ What do you do?”
Sethra said, “With the House of the Lyorn, it is an official request, through the Empire, for the assistance of the House. With the Athyra, someone will propose a wizard he knows or has heard of, and the council approves it.”
“And the House of the Lyorn is likely to choose someone who’s familiar with this kind of thing,” I added.
Sethra nodded.
“Okay,” I said. “But—Aliera, how hard would it be to fool a genetic scan?”
“A complicated illusion spell would do it,” she said slowly. “If whoever did the scan was incompetent.”
“What if he wasn’t?”
“He wouldn’t be fooled.”
“Could Sethra the Younger be fooled?”
“Easily.” She snorted.
I shot a glance at Sethra Lavode; she didn’t seem convinced. I set it aside for the moment. “What about Baritt?”
“No,” said Aliera.
Morrolan agreed. “Whatever he is—was—he was most assuredly not incompetent.”
“So,” I continued, “if someone did a spell to make it look like she wasn’t a full Dragon, Baritt must have been in on it. The Lyorn could have been fooled.”
“Vlad,” said Morrolan, “the Athyra would have to have been in on it, too—and you’ll have to convince me of that.”
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” I admitted. “But one thing at a time. Sethra, how did Sethra the Younger first hear about this?”
“I don’t know, Vlad. It was more than four hundred years ago.”
“At your age, Sethra, that’s almost yesterday.”
She raised an eyebrow. Then her eyes moved up and to the left as she tried to remember. “She said that she heard through a friend who’d been drinking with Lady Miera. She said that Lady Miera had told her friend about it, and her friend told her.”
“And the friend’s name?”
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. She rested her hands on top of her head, leaned her head back, and rolled her eyes straight up. We sat there, hardly daring to breathe. Suddenly she straightened up. “Vlad, it was Baritt!”
Why, I wondered, doesn’t this surprise me?
I shook my head. “If you people want to find out what Baritt knows about this, I can tell you where to find him, but don’t expect me to go along with you. I’ve been to Deathsgate once; that will last a lifetime—at least. I’ve got my own problems. There’s a guy who’s trying to send me there. Figuratively speaking,” I added. “I understand they don’t allow Easterners in.”
“Anyway,” I continued, “Sethra, do you remember who the Lyorn was?”
“I never knew,” she said. “My part of it was over, and I wanted nothing more to do with it. I wasn’t along when they did the second scan.”
“Oh. So I suppose you don’t know who the Athyra was, either.”
“Right.”
“It’ll all be in the records,” Aliera put in. “We can find out.”
I nodded. “Then I don’t think there’s anything more to do about this at the moment, right?”
There were nods from Sethra, Aliera, and Morrolan. Norathar and Cawti had been watching us the entire time without any expression. It occurred to me that it was odd for me to have taken the lead in this investigation into the history of the House of the Dragon. But then, in a certain sense, investigation is one of the things I’m good at. Cawti could have done it as well, but she had even less interest than I did.
“The next question,” said Morrolan, “is how we’re going to present this to the Dragon Council. I would suggest that Aliera and I appear before them and—”
Aliera interrupted. “Perhaps later would be better for this. It’s really a matter to be discussed among Dragons.”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence; then Cawti stood up. “Excuse me,” she said. “I believe that I’d like to retire now.”
Sethra stood and bowed an acknowledgment as Cawti left. Then Sethra sat down again, and Morrolan said, “I wonder what troubles her?”
Typical.
“The end of a partnership,” Norathar said, and it seemed that there were new lines of pain around her eyes and jaw. But then, she was a Dragonlord now, so she could show her feelings. She stood, bowed, and followed Cawti out of the room.
I followed them with my eyes, then glanced at the table. The food was cold and the wine was warm. If there had been an onion, it would have been rotten clear through.
Chapter Eleven
“A quick game, boss?”
They left me alone at the table, so I thought about onions for a while. I was still thinking about them when I felt someone reaching for me psionically.
“Who is it?”
“Fentor, at Castle Black, milord. I have the information you wanted.”
“On the riot? Good, let’s have it.”
“It was confined to three blocks, near—”
“I know where it was. Go
on.”
“Yes, milord. It was a row of flats, all owned by the same person. He’d started raising rents about four weeks before, and letting things deteriorate, and then began beating Easterners who were slow in paying.”
“I see. Who owned the flats?”
“A Jhereg, lord. His name is—”
“Laris.”
“Yes, milord.”
I sighed. “Had he owned the property for long?”
There was a pause. “It didn’t occur to me to check, lord.”
“Do so. And find out who he bought it from.”
“Yes, milord.”
“Is there anything more?”
“Not yet, milord, but we’re still working on it.”
“Good. Another thing, too: I suspect someone triggered the riot deliberately. Try to find out.”
“Yes, milord.”
We broke the contact. The conversation made me realize, among other things, that I’d been neglecting my own affairs again. I got in touch with Kragar and told him to expect me in two minutes. Then I made contact with Sethra, explained that I had to leave, and would she be good enough to teleport me back to my office? She would and did.
I didn’t have to tell her where it was, either. Sometimes I wonder about her.
* * * *
Kragar was waiting for me, along with Glowbug and someone I didn’t recognize. We went into the still-unrepaired building, and I told Kragar to come into the office with me, I shut the door, looked around, and didn’t see him. I opened up the door again and said, “Kragar, I said to—”
“Boss?”
I turned, and saw him this time.
“Damn it, Kragar, stop doing that.”
“Doing what, Vlad?”
“Never mind. Cut it out, Loiosh.”
“I didn’t say a thing, boss.”
“You were laughing up your wing.”
I sat down and put my feet up on the desk. “Who’s the new guy?”
“An enforcer. We need another one, and we can almost afford it. He knows he’s staying on subject to your approval.”
“What’s his name?”
“Stadol.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He’s called ‘Sticks.’ ”
“Oh. So that’s Sticks.” I yelled, “Melestav, send Sticks in.”
The door opened and he walked in.
“Sit,” I told him.
He did.
Sticks might have gotten his name because he looked like one, but that can be said of almost all Dragaerans. Still, he was taller and thinner than most, and carried himself as if every bone in his body were jelly. His arms swung easily when he walked, and his knees sagged a bit. He had sandy hair, straight, and worn to his ears. One lock dangled over his forehead and looked like it would get in his eyes. He periodically threw his head to the side to clear it, but it flopped down almost right away.
In fact, the nickname came from his preference for using two three-foot clubs. He beat people up with them.
I said, “I’m Vlad Taltos.” He nodded. “You want to work for me?”
“Sure,” he said. “The money’s good.”
“That’s because things are hot right now. You know about that?”
He nodded again.
“You ever ‘work’?”
“No. No future in it.”
“That’s debatable. I’ve heard of you doing some muscle a few years back. What have you been doing since?”
He shrugged. “I have some connections with a few minstrels, and with some taverns. I help introduce them, and they give me a percentage. It’s a living.”
“Then why leave it?”
“No future in it.”
“ . . . Okay. You’re in.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s it for now.”
He made a slow climb to his feet and ambled out. I turned back to Kragar. It took me a moment to find him, then I asked him: “Anything new?”
“No. I’m working on the patron angle, but I haven’t come up with anything.”
“Keep on it.”
“Right.”
“Get Narvane and Shoen here.”
“Right.”
He got hold of them and we sat back to wait. While we were waiting . . .
“Milord?”
“Yes, Fentor?”
“You were right. There was someone who provoked the riot. It looks deliberate.”
“Pick him up and hold him. I’m going to want to—”
“We can’t, milord.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, milord. In the riot.”
“I see. Chance, or was someone after him?”
“I can’t tell, milord.”
“All right. What about the previous landlord?”
“The Jhereg Laris has owned those flats for about nine weeks, milord. We don’t know who he bought them from. The records are confused, and there seems to have been some false names used.”
“Untangle it.”
“Yes, milord.”
“What was that?” asked Kragar when I broke the contact.
I shook my head and didn’t answer. He stood, went to my closet, and came back with a box. “You asked for these.”
The box contained a rather large selection of cutlery, of various sorts. Seeing them gathered together like that, I was a little amazed that I could fit it all around my person. I mean, there were—no, I don’t think I want to give the specifics.
I thought about sending Kragar out while I changed weapons, then decided against it. I picked up the first thing I came to, a small throwing knife, tested its edge and balance, and put it into my cloak in place of the one like it that I had there.
It was surprising how long it took to go through all the weapons I carried and replace them. When I’d finally finished the chore, Narvane and Shoen were waiting. As I stepped out of the office, I ran a hand through my hair and adjusted my cloak with the other hand, thus allowing me to brush my arms along my chest, making sure various things were in place. A very useful nervous gesture.
Narvane acknowledged me with a flicker of the eyes. Shoen nodded brusquely. Sticks, flopped all over a chair, lifted a hand, and Glowbug said, “Good to see you, boss. I was beginning to think you were a myth.”
“If you’re beginning to think, Glowbug, it’s an improvement already. Let’s go, gentlemen.”
This time, Loiosh was the first one out of the door, followed by Glowbug and Narvane. The other two followed me, leaving Kragar behind. We turned left and headed up to Malak Circle
. I said hello to a few customers I knew personally, and to some people who worked for me. I got the impression that, in the last day, business had picked up. This was a considerable relief. There was still a feeling of tension in the air, but it was more in the background.
We reached the Fountain Tavern, then the first door to the left. “Sticks,” I said.
“Hm?”
“This is where the trouble started. Laris opened up a small business upstairs, without even dropping me a polite note about it.”
“Mm.”
“For all I know, it’s still going on. Glowbug and Shoen will wait out here with me.”
“Okay.”
He turned and went up the stairs. Narvane followed wordlessly. As they went in, I saw Sticks pulling a pair of clubs out from his cloak. I leaned against the building to wait. Glowbug and Shoen stood in front of me, to either side, casually alert.
“Watch above, Loiosh.”
“I’m already doing it, boss.”
It wasn’t long before we heard a crash from up and to the right. We looked, and a body came flying out the window, landing in a heap about ten feet from me. A minute or so later, Narvane and Sticks reappeared. Sticks was holding something in his left fist. With the club in the other hand, he drew a series of squares in the dirt in front of me. I looked at him questioningly, but before he could say anything, I noticed a crowd had begun to gather around the body. I gave them all a smile.
Sticks opened his left hand then, and dropped several stones, some white, some black, onto the squares he’d drawn in the street.
“A quick game, boss?”
“No thanks,” I told him. “I don’t gamble.”
He nodded sagaciously. “No future in it,” he said. We continued on around the circle.
Eventually, I returned to my office; I was pleased to be able to tell Kragar to expect an increase in our take this week. He grunted.
“Do something for me, Kragar.”
“What?”
“Go visit that guy who told us about the setup. Find out if he knows anything more.”
“Visit him? Personally?”
“Yeah. Face to face and all that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe to find out if he’s unusual, so we can guess if we’re going to get any other takers.”
He shrugged. “All right. But won’t that be putting him in danger?”
“Not if no one notices you.”
He grunted again. “All right. When?”
“Now will be fine.”
He sighed, which was a welcome relief from the grunts, and left.
“Now what, Loiosh?”
“Got me, boss. Find Laris?”
“I’d love to. How? If he weren’t protected against witchcraft, I’d just try to nail him where he is.”
“It works out even, boss. If we weren’t protected against sorcery, he’d nail us where we are.”
“I suppose. Hey, Loiosh.”
“Yeah, boss?”
“I feel like I’ve been, I don’t know, brushing you off lately, when I’ve been around Cawti. I’m sorry.”
His tongue flicked against the inside of my ear. “It’s okay, boss. I understand. Besides, one of these days, I’ll probably find someone myself.”
“I hope so. I think. Tell me something: have I been off recently? I mean, this business with Cawti, do you think it’s been getting in my way? I feel like I’ve been distracted or something.”
“A little, maybe. Don’t worry about it. You’ve been doing all right when things get rough, and I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it anyway.”
“Yeah. You know, Loiosh, I’m glad you’re around.”
“Aw, shucks, boss.”