The Book of Jhereg

by Steven Brust

  She glared at me, and her eyes turned to steely gray. “If you feel you must.”

  “I feel I must. How well acquainted were they?”

  “They often saw each other, and Sethra, at Dzur Mountain. Ask Sethra. She knows better than I.”

  I turned to Sethra. “Well?”

  “I doubt,” she said, “that Adron was behind a conspiracy of this type. It isn’t his style. Besides, he and Baritt got along quite well.”

  “That proves nothing,” I said. “Or, if anything, it makes the case stronger against him. How well did he get along with the Sorceress in Green?”

  Sethra closed her eyes, as if having trouble remembering. Then she said, “We all got along in those days. Adron was never especially close to the sorceress, though.”

  “So,” I said, “if Adron felt it his duty to take the Orb, he might have felt it was his duty to make sure he was the next Dragon Emperor.”

  “I don’t believe it,” snapped Aliera, becoming more angry by the minute. I started laughing. She stood up, glaring. “Mind letting me in on the joke, Vlad?”

  “I just can’t help but see how funny it is. We’re talking about a guy who, trying to take the Orb, blew up half the Dragaeran Empire, created a Sea of Amorphia where the biggest city in the Empire used to be, killed I don’t know how many millions of people, and you’re upset because I’m wondering if he faked a bit of evidence to make his path a little easier.”

  Cawti started laughing, too. None of the others seemed to think it was funny. That made it even funnier, and, for a moment, I almost had hysterics. Aliera said, “That’s different. This involved tricking Sethra, who was a friend. There is such a thing as honor in the House of the Dragon.”

  Strangely, that sobered me up. It wasn’t any less funny, but, in a way, it was sad, too. Presently Cawti got the better of her mirth. I said, “All right, Aliera. Maybe he didn’t do it himself, but the Sorceress in Green could have done it without his knowledge, couldn’t she?”

  Aliera sat down again and sniffed. “I doubt it.”

  “All right, then, how did Adron and Norathar’s father, K’laiyer, get along?”

  Aliera shrugged and looked away haughtily. I turned to Sethra. She looked uncomfortable, but said, “They had disagreements, I remember. They weren’t bitter enemies, by any means, but they did disagree.”

  “Of course they disagreed!” said Aliera. “My father felt the Dragons had to take the throne, K’laiyer didn’t.”

  Sethra nodded. “That was pretty much it,” she said. “They didn’t agree on how immediate the problem was.”

  “What problem?”

  “The decadence of the Emperor. Phoenix Emperors always become decadent at the end of their reign, except every seventeenth Cycle, when we have a reborn Phoenix, such as Zerika. Since that was at the end of the Great Cycle—seventeen Cycles—it was especially bad. The Empire appeared to be falling apart, there were Easterners making encroachments on the eastern border, and Adron felt the Emperor should either step down or be removed.”

  “And K’laiyer didn’t?”

  “No. I remember him pointing out to me that the ‘encroachments’ were into territories where most of the population was made up of Easterners anyway. He said that it was basically their land, and he saw no reason why they shouldn’t have it back.”

  “I think I would’ve liked the guy,” I said.

  “Maybe,” said Sethra. “He was likeable enough. And he would have made a good Emperor, I think.”

  “It sounds to me,” I said, looking at Aliera, “as if Adron was—”

  “I believe it is time to dine,” said Morrolan. “Perhaps we should continue this after the meal?”

  I smiled a bit, nodded, stood, and offered Cawti my arm. She took it, and we headed toward the small dining room. I hoped this meal would be easier to digest than the last one with this crowd.

  Which set me to remembering that meal. Which set me to remembering the days I had spent in Dzur Mountain. Most of the memories were quite pleasant.

  But I remembered one conversation. . . . That couldn’t have anything to do with this. Could it? The whole thing, just to accomplish that? But then, Dragaerans are Dragaerans.

  “Wait a minute.”

  Morrolan sighed and turned around. “Yes, Vlad?”

  “I just—”

  “Can it wait?”

  “Uh . . . let’s go in and sit down while I think about it.” My mind was racing like a cat-centaur. I think I bumped into a few people and walls as I found my place.

  I noticed that we were sitting in exactly the same positions that we’d been in before. A servant brought wine. I drank some without tasting it.

  “All right, Vlad,” said Morrolan, in a resigned tone of voice. “What is it?”

  “I think I might have just figured out who’s behind this, and why.”

  I suddenly had everyone’s attention.

  “Go on,” said Morrolan.

  “Verra, but this is convoluted. But, with the Sorceress in Green doing the planning, how could it not be?”

  “Well, who is it?”

  “Let me put it this way: I’m going to guess that, between two and three years ago, the Sorceress in Green had a falling out with a certain individual she’d been friendly with up until then.”

  I turned to Sethra. “Am I right?”

  She looked puzzled. Then, suddenly, her nostrils flared and her eyes widened. After a moment, she nodded.

  “That’s it, then.”

  “What, Vlad?” said Morrolan, still calm.

  “You’re enjoying keeping everyone in suspense, aren’t you, boss?”

  “Shut up, Loiosh.”

  “Okay, I’ll put it this way: Suppose Norathar has just been killed. By Morrolan and Aliera. End of problem. So, the correct heir to the throne is out of the way, right? Who’s next?”

  “Aliera,” said Morrolan.

  “Right. But information comes out that she was involved in a Jhereg war. Then what?”

  “Mmmmm,” said Morrolan. “The council might—”

  “Assume further that the council is being manipulated. Maybe just a bit, maybe a lot, but there are strings being pulled.”

  “All right, so Aliera is out as heir, if that’s what you want.”

  “Right. And, by the same logic, Morrolan, so are you. Who’s next?”

  They looked at each other. “I don’t know,” said Aliera at last.

  “Neither do I. But, in a sense, it doesn’t matter. I’m sure the Sorceress in Green knows. Whoever it is probably isn’t even involved—it’s merely someone whose politics are known. No Dragon wants to be heir, you said. What does every Dragon want to be?”

  “Warlord,” said Aliera, with no hesitation.

  “Right. Morrolan, why don’t you send for that list, if it’s ready now.”

  “But . . . all right.” He concentrated for a moment. “It’s on the way.”

  “What list?” asked Sethra.

  “I asked Morrolan to collect the names of everyone who might have suggested the Athyra wizard who helped on Norathar’s scan.

  “Now,” I continued, “if Morrolan or Aliera were Emperor, each would have appointed the other Warlord, so you both had to go. Norathar had been harmless before, but with things moving as they were, it was safest to eliminate her, too.

  “Before the Interregnum, there was an obvious choice for Warlord if Adron were Emperor, so—”

  “Who?” said Cawti.

  “I’ll get to it. Anyway, without his knowledge, it was arranged for him to become the heir. When he failed, the Phoenix remained in power, so there was no immediate problem. Then Morrolan became the heir, which was fine—”

  “It was?” said Morrolan.

  “Yes—until Aliera suddenly arrived. Then, the person who would have been Warlord under you was out. And, worse than that, Aliera’s politics were wrong. You both had to go. Baritt, who had been willing to help until then, drew the line at this. He had to go, too.


  “So, the Warlord-to-be and the Sorceress in Green, who was a good friend as well as being a Yendi, laid new plans. The first thing they did was pretend to quarrel, so they wouldn’t be linked in anyone’s mind.

  “The plan took two years to mature, which is quick work for a Yendi. The fact that you two became friendly with me, and that I moved up in the Jhereg so quickly, must have helped quite a bit.

  “First, they were going to kill Norathar.”

  “Why?” said Morrolan.

  “Because Aliera was looking everywhere for someone to be Dragon Heir instead of her. She wouldn’t deliberately do something to get herself disqualified by the council; she wouldn’t consider it honorable. But she was trying to find someone with ‘purer genes,’ or whatever it is the Dragons look for. That would have led her, eventually, to the e’Lanyas.”

  “It did,” said Aliera. “I was trying to find out what had happened to Norathar already, just on the chance that she could lead me to another relative.”

  I nodded. “So they had to kill her, because, as soon as Aliera found her, she’d realize that she was, in fact, pure.”

  “All right,” said Morrolan. “Go on.”

  “The idea,” I said, “was to kill Norathar and discredit the two of you for helping me. I suspect that someone slipped somewhere, and you two were supposed to have been alerted sooner. I don’t think they wanted to cut it as close as they did. But it worked anyway—until you, Aliera, spoiled everything by revivifying Norathar. Then they had to improvise. The first thing they did was to test Norathar, just to see if she could, in fact, be of use to them as Emperor.”

  “How?” asked Norathar.

  “Don’t you remember the Sorceress in Green asking you how you felt about invasion plans for the East? I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but—”

  “You’re right!”

  “Yes. And if you had said you were in favor, they would have stopped right there, finished me off, and found a way to convince you to make the right person Warlord. Since your politics were wrong, they tipped you off about Laris so you’d go rushing off to kill him—he’s expendable—and disqualify yourself as heir.”

  Cawti shook her head. “But why continue the fake assassination attempts, Vladimir?”

  In answer, I turned to Norathar. “If there hadn’t been two failed attempts on my life, would you have believed that you’d been set up, even after you were told?”

  Her eyes narrowed, then she shook her head. Cawti nodded.

  At that point, right on cue, a servant arrived, holding a piece of paper. He gave it to Morrolan.

  Morrolan glanced at it. “Find,” I said, “the name of the person whom you would have named Warlord if Aliera had not shown up.”

  He did, and his mouth dropped open. Sethra leaned past Aliera and took the list from Morrolan’s limp hand. She glanced at it, nodded, and threw it down onto the middle of the table, her eyes cold as the blade of Iceflame.

  “I would rather,” she said, “that she had tried to kill me.”

  There were nine names on the list. The third one down was Sethra the Younger.

  16

  “Vladimir and I will just watch.”

  WE ALL SAT THERE looking at each other; then Morrolan cleared his throat.

  “Shall we eat?” he said.

  “Why don’t we?” said Sethra.

  Morrolan gave the necessary orders. I have no idea what appeared, but I must have eaten it, because I have no memory of being hungry later.

  “Will they be here tonight?” asked Norathar at one point.

  Morrolan said, “I would expect them to be.” There was no need to ask who “they” were.

  “Then perhaps we should plan to meet with them. Do you agree, sister?” Norathar asked Cawti.

  “Not here,” I said. “Morrolan forbids the mistreatment of his guests.”

  “Thank you, Vlad,” said Morrolan.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “But surely,” said Aliera, “under the circumstances—”

  “No,” said Morrolan.

  Before another storm could erupt, I said, “We should still verify all of our guesses before we do anything else.”

  Norathar looked at me. “You mean you aren’t sure?”

  “I’m sure. But it should still be verified.”

  “How?”

  “I’ve a way. It may take a little time. But then, we’re eating anyway.”

  “Fentor.”

  “Yes, milord?”

  “Have you tracked down the ownership of those flats, yet?”

  “No, milord.”

  “Maybe it’ll help if I give you a couple of names that might tie into them. Sethra the Younger, and the Sorceress in Green.”

  “I’ll check into it, milord.”

  “Very good. Get hold of me as soon as you have something.”

  “Yes, milord.”

  “With luck,” I said aloud, “we’ll know something soon.”

  “Vladimir,” said Cawti, “how should we approach them?”

  “Yes,” said Morrolan dryly. “You wouldn’t want her to turn you into a newt.”

  “I’ll get better,” I said. “In any case we can’t attack them here if we want to do anything permanent to them. Does anyone know where the sorceress lives?”

  “One never knows where a Yendi lives,” said Sethra.

  “Yeah. One possibility is Laris. If I can arrange to meet with him, I might be able to show him that his partners are stabbing him in the back. Maybe he’ll help us set them up.”

  “But aren’t you still going to try to kill him?” asked Aliera. “If you aren’t, I am.”

  “And I,” said Norathar.

  “Sure I am, but he doesn’t have to know that.”

  Aliera’s eyes narrowed. “I will have nothing to do with such a plan.”

  “Nor will I,” said Morrolan.

  “Nor I,” said Sethra.

  “Nor I,” said Norathar.

  I sighed. “Yeah, I know. You insist that everything be honorable, upright, and in the open. It isn’t fair to take advantage of someone, just because he’s been trying to assassinate you and conspiring against your friends, right?”

  “Right,” said Aliera, with a perfectly straight face.

  “You Dragons amaze me,” I said. “You claim it’s unfair to attack someone from behind, but somehow it’s a fair fight even when it’s against someone both of you know is weaker, less experienced, and less skilled than you. That’s not taking advantage? What rubbish.”

  “Vlad,” said Morrolan, “it’s a matter of—”

  “Never mind. I’ll think of something—wait a minute, I think I’m getting that verification now.”

  I had a brief conversation with Fentor, then turned back to them. “It’s confirmed,” I said. “Sethra the Younger, through intermediaries, owns a row of flats that were used as part of the setup for the attempt on me by Cawti and her friend the Dragonlord.”

  “Very well,” said Morrolan. “How do we proceed?”

  “It is vain to use subtlety against a Yendi,” said Sethra. “Make it something simple.”

  “Another axiom?”

  She smiled coldly. “And I’ll deal with Sethra the Younger myself.”

  * * *

  “It’s simple enough,” I said a while later, “but Cawti and I aren’t at our best right after a teleport.”

  “Cawti and you,” said Aliera, “will have no need to do anything.”

  I looked at Cawti.

  “I don’t mind,” she said. “Vladimir and I will just watch.”

  I nodded. I intended to do more than that, but there was no need to tell them about it. Except—

  “Excuse me, Morrolan, but just to be safe, may I borrow a Morganti knife?”

  His brows furrowed. “If you wish.”

  He concentrated for a moment. Soon a servant appeared with a wooden box. I opened it, and saw a small, silver-hilted dagger in a leather-covered sheath. I took it partway
out and at once recognized the feel of a Morganti weapon. I replaced it in the sheath and slipped it into my cloak.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “It is nothing.”

  We stood up and looked at each other. No one seemed able to find anything suitable to say, so we just stepped out of the small dining room and walked over to the central part of the castle, where the main dining room was.

  We walked in and spotted Sethra the Younger almost right away. Loiosh left my shoulder and began flying around the room, staying high enough to be unobtrusive. (Morrolan’s banquet hall had ceilings that were forty feet high.) Morrolan approached Sethra the Younger and spoke quietly with her.

  “Found her, boss. Northeast corner.”

  “Good work.”

  I gave this information to Morrolan, who began guiding Sethra the Younger that way. The rest of us converged on the Sorceress in Green; we reached her at about the same time Morrolan did. She looked at him, looked at Sethra, then looked at us. There was, perhaps, the smallest widening of her eyes.

  Morrolan said, “Sethra the Younger, Sorceress, for the next seventeen hours you are not welcome in my home. After that time, you may return.” He bowed.

  They looked at each other, then at the rest of us. Others in the hall began to watch, sensing that something unusual was occurring.

  Sethra the Younger started to say something, but stopped—the sorceress had probably told her psionically that it was pointless to argue. The two of them bowed.

  Sethra Lavode stepped up behind her namesake and put a hand on her arm, above the elbow. They looked at each other, but their expressions were unreadable.

  Then, abruptly, the Sorceress in Green was gone. Loiosh returned to my shoulder, and I looked at Aliera. Her eyes were closed in concentration. Then Sethra the Younger disappeared. Sethra Lavode left with her.

  “What will she do to her?” I asked Morrolan.

  He shrugged and didn’t answer.

  Presently Aliera spoke, her eyes still closed. “She knows I’m tracing her. If she stops to break the trace, we’ll have time to catch up with her.”

  “She’ll find the most advantageous place she can,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Aliera.

  “Let her,” said Norathar.

  Cawti swept her hair back with both hands just as I was adjusting my cloak. We smiled at each other, as we realized what the gestures meant. Then—