Sethra Lavode (Viscount of Adrilankha)

by Steven Brust

  “I believe you are correct on all counts, good Sorceress.”

  “But then, what shall we do?”

  “Why, I should be at Dzur Mountain. You perceive, all of my mechanisms for fighting the Jenoine are there. Moreover, these mechanisms are far too cumbersome to move.”

  “And, if I may ask, madam, how are you to accomplish this feat? You perceive that the Orb is not, at this moment, permitting sorcery; to ride there will take a full day, even with the post. I beg to submit that, in a day, it will be too late to do any good.”

  “You are right again, my dear.”

  “Well, and then?”

  The Enchantress of Dzur Mountain frowned, and set her hand upon the hilt of the dagger that hung at her side. “I must consider the matter,” she said.

  “At least,” observed Sethra the Younger, “we now understand why the Necromancer has been unable to use her skills, and, in addition, why the Orb is no longer functioning.”

  “That is true!” said the Enchantress.

  The Sorceress in Green said, “Where is the Jenoine?”

  “Do you know,” said Sethra the Younger, “that is an excellent question.”

  “Do you think so?” said the Sorceress. “Then I am most gratified for having asked it.”

  “And you are right to be.”

  “Only—”

  “Well?”

  “What is the answer?”

  “Oh, as to that, you must ask the Enchantress.”

  “Well, I thought I had.”

  “And yet, she hasn’t answered.”

  “Well, that is because she is reflecting.”

  “Ah. Then, it appears, it was an excellent question.”

  “I believe I told you so.”

  “That is true.”

  “I cannot tell you exactly where it is,” said Sethra Lavode, speaking very slowly, as if each word required considerable contemplation, “but I can tell you how to find it.”

  “Well?” said the others.

  In answer, the Enchantress turned to an errand runner and said, “My compliments to the Necromancer, and I require her presence here at once.”

  Chapter the Ninety-Second

  How Grita and Illista

  Made Their Plans

  And Discussed the

  Finer Points of Vengeance

  As all of this was taking place, several hundreds of miles away, a conversation of no small interest was also taking place near the mouth of a deep cave. Before considering the conversation, however, we must take a moment to look, not at the mouth of the cave where the conversation is occurring, but, rather deep within it. Some twenty-five or thirty meters inside this cave—which is to say, against the place it abruptly ended in stone—there was what might at first appear to be a large, rectangular block of ice. A closer examination would reveal what appears to be a corpse encased in the ice. And yet a closer look would show that, in fact, it was not ice at all, but, rather, a sort of shimmering, transparent, and insubstantial product of the sorcerous arts.

  It should come as no surprise to the reader that the apparent body held within this thaumaturgic matrix was none other than our friend Tazendra. She lay upon a sort of stone table, dressed in the black of the House of the Dzur, and covered, as we have said, with the strange spell whose appearance we have sketched. To look at her, there is not the least evidence of life to be found. Insofar as she could be seen through the wavering and shifting of the spell (or, to be precise, the most prominent visual effect of the spell) the most striking aspect of her appearance must be that her eyes are open and there is an expression on her countenance of something like astonishment.

  We should add that, all around this table, there was a remarkable array of sorcerous gear: a staff stood upright, dug into the floor of the cave, and constantly vibrated. A pair of of objects rested on either side of the table, lined up with Tazendra’s waist, that very much resembled the stalagmites that the reader may recall seeing in Dzur Mountain. Three head-sized crystals lay on the floor in front of her, one glowing red, another blue, and the third yellow. Upon the walls in the back of the cave were hung five bronze-colored disks, about eight centimeters in diameter, and inscribed with certain arcane symbols. And, directly over her, hung a sort of globe. We cannot say precisely how large it was, nor its color, because both its size and its hue would change rapidly as it was observed.

  And in front of this globe was, perhaps, the most remarkable thing of all: an area stretching to the top of the cave—that is to say, perhaps twelve feet—and nearly the same width, that was utterly black; so black that the light from the various lamps and implements did not penetrate it. It appeared, in fact, to be a blackness with depth, and even substance. More, there appeared to be a sense of continuous motion within it, although, to look upon it, one could not say exactly how one was aware of this motion. But it carried within it a great sense of power, and threat; no one beholding it would care to come near it, much less make contact with that area of wavering darkness.

  However this may be, let us turn our attention, as we indicated above, to the mouth of the cave where, as the reader might surmise, our old acquaintances Grita and Illista are holding conversation. Here the opening led out onto a ledge of reasonable size and one that, moreover, gave a good view of the surrounding region, excepting, of course, for above and behind, where the mountain itself blocked the view. It was for this reason that the first words spoken by Illista were “Have you looked above us and behind?”

  “I have looked, my dear Phoenix,” said Grita, “and also used what sorcerous ability I have, which is not inconsiderable, having honed my skills during the Interregnum, and I give you my word that not only is no one behind or above us, but, moreover, there are no listening or seeing spells of any sort in operation.”

  “That is good, then,” said Illista. “And, looking around, save for a few chipmunks, who seem busy with affairs of their own, and a few norska who are equally busy, and various birds of species I do not recognize, we are quite alone.”

  “I agree,” said Grita. “We are alone.”

  “Have you inspected our Dzurlord?”

  “I have just this instant completed an inspection.”

  “And?”

  “The spell is as strong today as when we cast it. She is in a sleep like death; she feels nothing, can send or receive no communications either sorcerous or psychic, and no sorcery upon this world can find her. Her mind, you perceive, is, in effect, non-existent.”

  “And then, you are certain that she can be revived, in case our friends appear and desire assurances that she still lives?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Very good.”

  “And our other preparations, Illista?”

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them.”

  “Well then, let us consider them.”

  “Very well.”

  “Suppose they appear with an army.”

  “Unlikely. The armies are, at this instant, engaged in defending certain bridges and roads in Adrilankha.”

  “Well,” said Illista, “but if they do?”

  “Then we have our own army, graciously loaned to us by His Majesty Kâna. Small, but large enough to defend the mouth of this cave as long as is necessary. They are this moment hidden outside of the cave, prepared to spring into action upon my signal.”

  “Very good.”

  “What next?”

  “Sorcery?”

  “Impossible. The Orb is busy—there is no sorcery.”

  “That is true.”

  “What of necromancy? You are certain they cannot create a necromantic gate to remove the Dzur without entering?”

  “So long as Tri’nagore is present in the world, even a god could not manifest within a mile of this spot.”

  “That is good, then.”

  “I think so; I am glad you agree.”

  “They will have no choice but to meet us, face-to-face.”

  “And for that, we are ready.”


  “Exactly, my dear Illista. More than ready, we are prepared.”

  “Then you are sufficiently confident of the result?”

  “Oh, I am, I assure you. You know what we have prepared for anyone passing into this cave.”

  “I know very well.”

  “So,” asked Grita, “you are satisfied?”

  “Entirely. Only—”

  “Yes?”

  “Where are their friends?” asked Illista. “That is to say, why has no one appeared to rescue her? We were convinced they would be here before this. Now, all of our sorcery will not work, as the Orb is busy wrestling with the individual we have summoned.”

  “That is true, but, remember, if our sorcery does not work, neither does theirs. And, moreover, we are able to tap into the powers of that individual, which they are not.”

  “Still—I cannot imagine why no attempt has been made to rescue her. Could it be that our clue was too subtle?”

  “No, my friend,” said Grita. “It is not that.”

  “Then, could we have been wrong about them caring about her?”

  “Oh, as to that, I am certain she is their friend.”

  “Are you? You know how irritating the Dzur can be.”

  “Oh, I do not question that.”

  “You are right not to,” said Illista. “They constantly seek quarrels, and will often dispute the simplest of arguments for no reason except that everyone else agrees. And they will hold to an unpopular opinion for no reason except that it is unpopular.”

  “I do not believe this is true of all Dzur, and, in particular, it is not true of this one.”

  “Nevertheless, if they care about her, and if our clue was as obvious as you say—”

  “Neither the Lyorn nor the Tiassa is capable of missing it.”

  “Well then, why are they not here, unless it is because they don’t care about her?”

  “I said before, Illista, that that is not the reason, and I say so again.”

  “You are certain?”

  “Entirely.”

  “But then, why? We expected them months ago. We had this entire mountain prepared to explode in case an army appeared, and we had sorcerous alarms to detect efforts to approach us with stealth. But yet, they have not come.”

  “Shall I tell you why, Illista?”

  “If you know, I wish you would.”

  “I will explain.”

  “I am listening.”

  “They have not come, for the simple reason that they did not know she was missing.”

  “How, they didn’t know? And yet, it has been almost a year since we took her.”

  “Nevertheless, it is the case. She was at Dzur Mountain, and then she went to her home, and no one had cause to attempt to reach her.”

  “Well, but when we set off the spell at her home?”

  “There was no sorcerer nearby to detect the magic, it was daylight, so no one could see the flames, and the spell we used burned everything too quickly for there to be smoke.”

  Illista considered this, then nodded. “Very well, I accept that that is the reason.”

  “And you are right to.”

  “But we must find a way to inform them.”

  “Not in the least.”

  “How, we don’t need to inform them?”

  “No,” said Grita, “because now they know.”

  “Oh, do they?”

  “Three days ago, the Lyorn passed the doors of her castle.”

  “Ah, ah! So that—”

  “Yes. I expect him at any moment.”

  “So, that is why you brought us here, now?”

  “Precisely.”

  Illista smiled. “I must say, the timing is admirable: even as our friend Kâna is attacking, and as we have disabled any possibility of sorcerous aid for the enemy, they walk into our trap.”

  “I agree, we could not have planned it better.”

  “I do myself the honor of agreeing entirely.”

  “So then?”

  “Then we ought to prepare for our visitor.”

  “Well, yes, but you should be aware that there is another problem.”

  “How, a problem?”

  “I am convinced of it, my dear Illista.”

  “Well, but what is this problem?”

  “The Tiassa has resumed his post.”

  “So then?”

  “He is involved in the battle, and will not be here.”

  “So much the worse! But we have the others, at any rate.”

  “Not the Yendi, either.”

  “What?”

  “The Tiassa has intervened on his behalf.”

  “So then—?”

  “We can anticipate no one arriving except the Lyorn.”

  “Ah, that is too bad! And yet, I cannot imagine how such a thing could have happened that this Zerika has not caused the Yendi to be arrested, or at least banished.”

  “An unfortunate fluke.”

  “We must accept it, it seems.”

  “Well, at any rate, that will be two of them.”

  “That is true, Grita. At least there will be two of them now, and the others later.”

  “Yes. And, do you know, in a way, now that I consider, it may be better this way.”

  “How, better that we must delay our vengeance against the Yendi and the Tiassa?”

  “Exactly.”

  “For what reason?”

  “Shall I explain, Illista?”

  “I will be grateful if you do, for you must know that I do not understand why it should be better.”

  “Because, my love, killing them is not the pleasure.”

  “It is not? And yet—”

  “On the contrary, killing them ends the pleasure.”

  “You think so?”

  “Entirely. The pleasure comes in two places: first, in the planning and preparation, and next, above all, that delicious moment when your enemy realizes that death is inevitable—that he is already dead, but is still aware of it. To extend that moment as long as possible, that is the real goal. I should like it to last a hundred years. A thousand years. I should like it to never end.”

  Illista frowned and considered this. “There is a great deal of truth in what you say, Grita.”

  “You perceive, I have spent many years considering the matter.”

  “And yet, we must kill them eventually.”

  Grita sighed. “I know. And it is difficult to get satisfactory vengeance on a Dzur in any case—even when they know they are about to die, they will not respond properly, which robs the moment of its sweetness.”

  “Do you know, that is true.”

  “Yes.”

  “I hate them.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, Illista, should we dispose of this Dzur and start over?”

  The Phoenix considered this, then said, “I have no interest in simply cutting her throat and being done with it. I want my vengeance—on her, as well as on the others.”

  “And yet, we have just observed how difficult it is in the case of a Dzur.”

  Illista frowned. “Difficult—but perhaps not impossible, my dear Grita.”

  “Have you an idea?”

  “Nearly.”

  “Let us hear it then. You know that I adore your suggestions.”

  “You are a very complaisant conspirator, Grita.”

  “We are a good team.”

  “Oh, as to that, we shall know more when our vengeance is complete.”

  “That is certainly true.”

  “And, to that end—”

  “Yes, to that end, let us hear your idea.”

  “Shall I tell you now?”

  “At once! Can’t you see I am mad to know?”

  “Very well, this is it: The way to torment a Dzur is not to kill the Dzur, but rather, to kill the Dzur’s friends.”

  “Oh!”

  “While the Dzur watches!”

  “Oh, oh!”

  “Especially if the friend dies attempting to re
scue the Dzur!”

  “Illista, you are adorable!”

  “So then, you like my plan?”

  “It is magnificent!”

  “I am glad you think so.”

  “And I can even improve upon it.”

  “Can you indeed? Well, in truth, that doesn’t astonish me. Is it a good improvement?”

  “You will see.”

  “Let us see then.”

  “By tormenting the Dzur, we can be all the more certain the friend—”

  “That is to say, the Lyorn—”

  “—charges in blindly. That is, if he sees his friend the Dzur being tortured, well, he will not hesitate.”

  “Perfect!”

  “Then, let us make preparations to receive this Lyorn.”

  “And preparations as well to torture the Dzur. Apropos—”

  “Well?”

  “What method of torture would you recommend?”

  “Well, we may as well do something practical.”

  “Oh, I am in favor of practicality. But, what do you mean?”

  “I am referring to those others who will not be appearing yet.”

  “What about them?”

  “Our Lyorn may not have told them where we are holding the Dzur.”

  “That is true! And does your idea address this issue?”

  “You will see.”

  “What, then, is your idea?”

  “I propose that we send Tazendra back to her friends.”

  “How, send her back?”

  “Or, rather, a part of her.”

  “Ah! Ah!”

  “Say, for example, an ear.”

  “Oh, yes. An ear. Dzurlords have such distinctive ears.”

  “Yes. And upon the packaging that contains the ear, well, we can write, in words simple enough for the meanest understanding, a description of where we are, in case our Lyorn has failed to communicate this intelligence to his friends. This will serve to also make certain that there is no possible doubt about whether they can find us.”

  “Grita, your ideas are brilliant. I tell you so.”

  Grita bowed, and said, “And, after that, if they do not appear for her—”

  “Well?”

  “Why, then we will send them another ear.”

  “You perceive that, at this rate, she will soon run out of ears.”