by Steven Brust
But my reactions, as I said, vary. Sometimes I become paranoid for a few hours or days, sometimes I become aggressive and belligerent. This time, I sat very still at my desk for a long time. I was shaken and I was scared. The sight of those four—four—kept running through my mind.
I was definitely going to have to do something about this Laris fellow.
* * * *
“Time to get moving, boss.”
“Eh?”
“You’ve been sitting there for about two hours now. That’s enough.”
“It can’t have been that long.”
“Humph.”
I noticed Cawti was in the room, waiting for me. “How long have you been there?”
“About two hours.”
“It can’t—have you been talking to Loiosh? Never mind.” I took a couple of deep breaths. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m not used to this.”
“You should be by now,” she remarked dryly.
“Yeah. I’ve got that to console me. How many people do you know who have survived . . . ”
“Yes, Vlad? What is it?”
I sat there thinking for a very long time indeed. Then I asked the question again, in a less rhetorical tone of voice. “How many people do you know who have survived even two assassination attempts, let alone three?”
She shook her head. “There are damn few who survive the first one. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone surviving two. As for three—it’s quite an accomplishment, Vladimir.”
“Is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Look Cawti, I’m good, I know that. I’m also lucky. But I’m not that good, and I’m not that lucky. What does that leave?”
“That the assassins were incompetent?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
I saw it and raised one. “Are you?”
“No.”
“So what else does it leave?”
“I give up. What?”
“That the attempts weren’t real.”
“What?”
“What if Laris hasn’t been trying to kill me?”
“That’s absurd.”
“I agree. But so is surviving three assassination attempts.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Let’s think about it, all right?”
“How can I think about it? Damn it, I did one of them myself.”
“I know. All right, we’ll start with you, then. Were you actually hired to assassinate me, or were you hired to make it look like you were trying to assassinate me?”
“Why on Dragaera—?”
“Don’t evade the issue, please. Which was it?”
“We were hired to assassinate you, damn it!”
“That’s admissible at Court, you know. Never mind,” I said quickly as she started flushing. “Okay, you say you were hired to assassinate me. Suppose you were given the job of making it look good. How—”
“I wouldn’t take it. And get myself killed?”
“Skip that for the moment. Just suppose. How would you deal with the questions I’ve been asking, if your job was to make me think Laris wanted to kill me?”
“I—” she stopped and looked puzzled.
“Right. You’d answer just as you’ve been answering.”
“Vladimir,” she said slowly, “do you actually think that’s the case?”
“Uh . . . not really. But I have to allow for the possibility. Don’t I?”
“I guess,” she said. “But where does that leave you?”
“It means that, for the moment, we can forget about you and Norathar.”
“You still haven’t said why he’d want to do this.”
“I know. Skip that, too. Let’s take the attempt outside the office. I’ve told you about it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I got out of that because I’m quick and accurate and, mostly, because Loiosh warned me in time, and took care of one of them so that I was free to deal with the other.”
“I was wondering if you’d remember that, boss.”
“Shut up, Loiosh.”
“Now,” I continued, “how could Laris, and therefore anyone he hired, not have known about Loiosh?”
“Well, of course he knew about him—that’s why he sent two assassins.”
“But they underestimated him?”
“Well—forgive me, Loiosh—but he didn’t do all that well against Norathar and me. Also, you reacted better and more quickly than Laris could have expected. As I told you before, Vladimir, you have a talent for making people underestimate you.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he gave the job to a pair of incompetents, hoping they’d bungle it.”
“That’s absurd. He couldn’t tell them to bungle it, that would be suicide. And he couldn’t know they’d fail. As I understand it, they almost got you.”
“And, maybe, even if they had, they wouldn’t have made it permanent. We can’t question them. Which reminds me, you could also have been told not to make it permanent. Were you?”
“No.”
“Okay, skip that. Maybe he figured I’d survive, and, if I didn’t, that I’d be revivified.”
“But you still haven’t said why.”
“Wait for it. Now, about today—”
“I was wondering when you were going to get to that. Did you see what the one threw at you?”
“The sorcerer?”
“No, the other one.”
“No. What was it?”
“A pair of large throwing knives, with thin blades. And they were perfectly placed for your head.”
“But I ducked.”
“Oh, come on, Vlad. How could he know that you’d react that quickly?”
“Because he knows me—he’s studied me. Deathsgate, Cawti. That’s what I’d do—what I’ve been trying to do as best I can.”
“I have trouble—”
“Okay, just a minute then.” I yelled past her. “Melestav! Get Kragar in here.”
“Okay, boss.”
Cawti looked an inquiry at me, but I held up a finger as a signal to wait. Kragar came into the room. He stopped, glanced at Cawti, and looked at me.
“This lady,” I informed him, “is the Dagger of the Jhereg.” As I said it, I looked a question at her.
“Might as well,” she said. “It doesn’t much matter anymore.”
“Okay,” I said. “She is also known as Cawti. Cawti, this is Kragar, my lieutenant.”
“Is that what I am?” he mused. “I’ve wondered.”
“Sit down.” He sat. “Okay, Kragar. You’re Laris.”
“I’m Laris. I’m Laris? You just said I was your lieutenant.”
“Shut up. You’re Laris. You get word that I’m sitting in a restaurant. What do you do?”
“Uh . . . I send an assassin over.”
“ ‘An’ assassin? Not four?”
“Four? Why would I send four? Laris wants to kill you, not give you Imperial Honors. With four assassins, you have three eyewitnesses to the thing. He’d get one good guy. There are plenty of ‘workers’ who wouldn’t have any trouble finalizing you if they knew you were sitting in a restaurant. If he couldn’t find someone good, he might go with two. But not four.”
I nodded and looked at Cawti. “The way you and Norathar work keeps you out of contact with a large part of the Jhereg. But Kragar’s right.”
“Is that what happened, boss?” Kragar asked, looking puzzled.
“Later,” I told him. “Now, let’s suppose that you didn’t have anyone around who could do it, or any two. For some reason, anyway, you want to use four of them. What do you tell them to do?”
He thought for a moment.
“Do I know where you’re sitting, and what the layout of the place is?”
“Whoever told you I was there told you that stuff, too, or else you get back in touch with him and ask.”
“Okay. Then I tell them that stuff, and say, ‘go in there and do him.’ What more is there to say?”
“You wouldn�
��t have them wait outside?”
He shook his head, looking more puzzled than ever. “Why give you a chance to be up and moving? If you’re sitting down—”
“Yes,” said Cawti suddenly. “When I stepped outside, they were just standing there, waiting. That’s been bothering me, but I didn’t realize it until now. You’re right.”
I nodded. “Which means that either Laris, or his button-man, is a complete incompetent, or—that’s all for now, Kragar.”
“Uh . . . good. Well, I hope I helped.” He shook his head and left.
“Or,” I continued to Cawti, “he wasn’t really trying to kill me after all.”
“If he was trying to fool you,” she said, “couldn’t he have done a better job of it? After all, you figured it out. If you’re going to use success or failure to prove intention—”
“If we follow that reasoning, then I’m supposed to figure out that he’s only bluffing, right? Come on, lover. We aren’t Yendi.”
“Okay,” she said. “But you still haven’t said why he’d only want to bluff you.”
“That,” I admitted, “is a tricky one.”
She snorted.
I held my hand up. “I only said it’s tricky—not that I’m not trickier. The obvious reason for him not to kill me is that he wants me alive.”
“Right,” she said. “Brilliant.”
“Now, what reason could he have for wanting me alive?”
“Well, I know of at least one good reason, but I don’t think you’re his type.”
I blew her a kiss and hacked my way onward. “Now, there are several possible reasons why he might want me alive. If any—”
“Name one.”
“I’ll come back to that. If any of them is true, then he might be hoping to scare me into making a deal. We might be hearing from him any time, asking me if I’ll accept terms. If I do hear from him, what I say will depend on if I can figure out what he’s after, so I know how badly he wants to keep me alive. Got it?”
She shook her head. “Are you sure you aren’t part Yendi? Never mind. Go on.”
“Okay. Now, as for reasons why he might want me alive, the first thing that comes to mind is: he might not like something that will happen when I die. Okay, now, what happens when I die?”
“I kill him,” said Cawti.
“One possib—What did you say?”
“I kill him.”
I swallowed.
“Well,” she said angrily, her nostrils flaring, “what did you think I’d do? Kiss him?”
“I—Thank you. I didn’t realize . . . ”
“Go on.”
“Could he know that?”
She looked puzzled. “I don’t think so.”
Which suddenly made me wonder about something. “Loiosh, could someone have—?”
“No, boss. Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure? Love spells—”
“I’m sure, boss.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I shook my head. “Okay, what I was going to say is, some of my friends—that is, my other friends—might come down on him. Not Aliera—she’s the Dragon Heir, and the Dragon Council would have a lyorn if she started battling Jhereg—but Morrolan might go after Laris, and maybe Sethra would. Laris might be worried about that. But if so, why did he start the war? Maybe he only found out about my friends after it was too late to back out.”
“That’s quite a chain of supposition, Vladimir.”
“I know, but this whole thing is a big chain of supposition. Anyway, another possibility is that he started the war knowing all this, but had some other reason for starting the war anyway, and hopes to get something without having to kill me.”
“What reason?”
“What’s the war about?”
“Territory.”
“Right. Suppose that there is some particular area he wants. Maybe there’s something buried around here, something important.” She didn’t look convinced. I continued. “You saw the front of this place? They staged a raid on it. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but maybe my office is sitting right on top of something they want.”
“Oh, come on. This is so farfetched I can’t believe it.”
“All right,” I said, backing up a bit. “I’m not saying that I’ve hit dead center, I’m just trying to show you that there are possibilities.”
She grimaced. “You aren’t going to convince me,” she said. “This whole thing is based on assuming that Norathar and I are part of the hoax. Maybe I can’t prove to you that we aren’t, but I know we’re not, so I’m not going to be convinced.”
I sighed. “I don’t really believe you are, either.”
“Well, then, where does that leave your theory?”
I thought about it for a while. Then, “Kragar.”
“Yeah, Vlad?”
“Remember that tavern keeper who tipped us off?”
“Sure.”
“You said that he heard it being arranged—do you know if he heard someone actually talking to the assassins?”
“Yes, he did. He said the button-man addressed them by name. That’s how I knew who we were up against.”
“I see. When you went to see him, you said he was, how did you put it? ‘Surprised and caught off guard.’ Now, can you take a guess about whether he was more afraid of you, or afraid of being seen with you?”
“That’s pretty subtle, Vlad.”
“So are you, Kragar. Try.”
There was a pause. “My first reaction was that he was afraid of me personally, but I don’t see—”
“Thanks.”
I turned back to Cawti. “Would you mind telling me where this thing was set up?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve admitted that you were hired to assassinate me. All I want to know is where it was arranged.”
She looked at me for a long moment. “Why? What does this have to do with—”
“If my suspicions are confirmed, I’ll tell you. If not, I’ll tell you anyway. Now, where was it arranged?”
“A restaurant in Laris’s area. You know I can’t be more specific—”
“Which floor?”
“Huh?”
“Which floor?”
This earned me a quizzical look. “The main floor.”
“Right,” I said. “And a restaurant, not a tavern. Okay. And you didn’t discuss it with him personally, did you?”
“Certainly not.”
“So you don’t even know who the job came from?”
“Well . . . not technically, I suppose. But I assumed—” She stopped, and her eyes grew wide. “Then who—?”
“Later,” I said. “We’ll get to that. It isn’t what you think—I think. Give me a moment.”
She nodded.
“Kragar.”
“Yes, Vlad?”
“Our friend the tavern keeper—I would like him to become dead.”
“But boss, he—”
“Shut up. Finalize him.”
“Whatever you say, Vlad.”
“That’s right. Whatever I say.” I thought for a moment. “Have Shoen do it—he’s reliable.”
“Okay.”
That’s the trouble with not having any button-men: you have to do all the dirty work yourself.
Chapter Fourteen
“Lord Morrolan, I must insist.”
I leaned back in my chair. “The next question,” I said, “is why they—Cawti? What is it?”
She was staring at me through slitted eyes.
“He set us up,” she said. “Or someone did.”
“Hmmm. You’re right. I was so involved in my problem that I didn’t see it from your end.”
“You said I was wrong before, when it occurred to me that someone else had done it. Why?”
“We got the information from one of Laris’s people. That means that he must have had a hand in it.”
“You’re right. So it was him.”
“But why, Cawti? Why does he want
me to think he’s after me?”
“I’ll ask you another one,” she said. “Why use us?”
“Well,” I said, “it was certainly convincing.”
“I suppose. When I tell Norathar about this—” she stopped, and a strange look came over her face.
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell Norathar about this, Vladimir. She’s the Dragon Heir now, or soon will be. If she gets involved in Jhereg activities at this point, she’ll lose her position. I can’t do that to her. I wish I hadn’t told her about the earlier attempt on you.”
“Mmmm,” I said.
“So it’s you and me. We’ll find that bastard, and—”
“How? He’s vanished. He’s protected against sorcery traces and even blocked against witchcraft. I know; I’ve tested.”
“We’ll find a way, Vladimir. Somehow.”
“But why? What is he after?”
She shrugged, took out a dagger, and started flipping it. My breath caught for a moment, watching her. It was as if she were a female version of me . . .
“Okay,” I continued, “what are the anomalies? First, hiring a team of assassins with the kind of reputation you and Norathar have, just to pull off a bluff. Second, doing it in such a way that you two find out and are still alive. He must have known that you wouldn’t be pleased about this, and—”
“No,” said Cawti. “The only reason I’m alive is that Norathar refused to speak to Aliera unless she revivified me. And the only reason Norathar is alive is that Aliera was convinced she was a Dragonlord and wanted to hear her story.” She chuckled. “Norathar wouldn’t talk to her anyway.”
“I see,” I said softly. “I hadn’t known that. Well then, if this was his plan, he could have pretty much counted on you two being—That’s it, then.”
“What?”
“Just a minute. Is it? No, that doesn’t make sense, either. Why . . . ?”
“What is it, Vladimir?”
“Well, what if the point was to kill you and Norathar? But that doesn’t make sense.”
She thought about it for a minute. “I agree; it doesn’t. There are other ways to have killed us. And why continue the bluff after it failed?”
“I agree, but . . . could Laris know about Norathar’s background?”
“I don’t see how. I suppose it’s possible, but why would he care?”