by Steven Brust
17
PALACZINTA
Mihi came back to the table. He brought a bucket of ice on a stand, and in the bucket was a bottle I knew well. Mihi was all smiles. I think this was his favorite part; it was certainly right up there for me.
Dragaerans usually served a fruit at the end of a meal, but we Easterners like to serve a confection, or something sweet to finish off a meal. We call it “dessert” and no one does it better than Valabar’s. Mihi gave a slight bow, refilled our wineglasses, took a deep breath, and began speaking.
“Today, Mr. Valabar has prepared an apple cheesecake with a mild cinnamon sauce topped with powdered chef’s sugar and a finely ground pecan mix chocolate raspberry mousse cake in a chocolate shell sweetened with white sugar with jumpberry sauce and a selection of fresh berries vanilla-cinnamon custard lightly caramelized on top with brown sugar and a garnish of fresh fruit a six-layer dessert palaczinta consisting of a layer of rednuts ground to a fine powder a layer of sweetened chocolate a layer of raspberries a layer of walnuts ground to a powder and a layer of tartberries with a chocolate-brandy sauce dribbled on top.”
Telnan stared at Mihi. Mihi looked smug.
At last, Telnan said, “What?”
“No, no,” I said. “Don’t make him repeat it. My heart couldn’t take it. I’ll have the palaczinta.”
Telnan’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times.
“Bring him the mousse cake,” I said. “He’ll like that.”
“Uh, sure,” said Telnan
Mihi nodded happily and walked off.
A palaczinta is nothing more than a wafer-thin griddle cake, suitable for having preserves spread on it, or maybe butter and sweetened cinnamon, or to be rolled up with meat and baked. But at Valabar’s, they’d stack them in layers—with a delightful assortment of things on each layer—and then slice it like a pie. It is a joy and a delight; it’s one of those things that makes life worth living.
I watched the sweat run down the side of the wine-bottle and waited for Mihi to return, meanwhile thinking pleasant thoughts.
He was back in a few short minutes. Holding a small white plate in his left hand, with another cradled in his left arm; from the expression on his face, you’d think he had not only prepared the delicacies, but had invented the whole concept of dessert. I’ve always liked Mihi.
The sitting room was dominated by a long, dark table, with ornate, high-backed wooden chairs placed all around it. They were all standing, waiting for me; the Demon stood in a corner, flanked by his bodyguards and staring off into space as if he were bored by the whole thing. There were six sorceresses in the room, all of them wearing some form of black and gray. One of the sorceresses said, “Sit where you please, Lord Taltos.”
I picked one of the chairs and sat in it, then gave them all a big smile, and said, “Well! Isn’t this grand!” They all sat down as well, one of the sorceresses I didn’t know sitting at the end to my right, the Demon on the end to my left. His bodyguards stood behind him.
“Tell Rocza not to grip so hard.”
“We’re both a little nervous, Boss.”
“Why?”
“Couldn’t say.”
The pain in my shoulder went away.
The sorceress at the end of the table said, “My name is Caola, Lord Taltos. I would welcome you to my home, but I try to avoid blatant hypocrisy. Why did you wish to speak with us?”
“Which of you is Triesco?”
“Why?”
“Just curious.”
“I am,” said the one seated to the right of Caola.
“Okay.”
Caola said, “I ask again, why did you wish to speak with us?”
“This area,” I said. “South Adrilankha.”
“What of it?”
“I’d like to propose a bargain.”
“Very well, we’ll listen. We’re curious about what you believe you have to bargain with.”
“That’s a reasonable question.”
She nodded and waited for me to continue. I wasn’t sure what sort of relationship there was between her and the other sorceresses; I knew nothing about the structure of the Left Hand. But it was different than in the Right Hand, at any rate; none of them said a word, or even made a motion. They just sat there and stared, sometimes at me, sometimes at Caola.
It was actually pretty creepy.
“What I have to bargain with, is letting all of you out of this room alive, and with your souls intact.”
A couple of the sorceresses stiffened, the Demon raised an eyebrow, and Caola shrugged. “I think it would be more to the point to ask how you are getting out of here alive.”
“If you turn down my offer, I don’t expect to.” My hand was about two inches from Lady Teldra. I tapped the hilt. “How many of you will go with me?”
“I don’t think you’d—”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “That’s why I wanted the Demon here. You know him, he knows me. Ask him.”
Caola turned him an inquiring glance.
He shrugged. “I believe he’d do it, yes.”
“Interesting,” she said. “All right, Lord Taltos. Let’s hear your proposal.”
“You pack up and leave South Adrilankha, and agree to stay out until the end of the next Dragon Reign.”
“Go on.”
“Your plan for the Council of the Jhereg—pardon me, of the Right Hand—has fallen through. You recognize that, and agree to make no objection to the Demon taking that position.”
“I’m still listening.”
“That’s it.”
“Okay. What do we get?”
“Like I said, that’s it.”
She stared at me. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“You ask us to abandon our projects, and, in exchange—”
“Your lives.” She started to say something, but I interrupted. “Lady Caola, you never intended to let me out of this room alive to begin with, did you? So, what’s changed? Let’s start the dance.”
She stood up and raised her hand, by which time I was out of the chair and rolling on the floor. Loiosh and Rocza launched themselves into the air. I stood up, Lady Teldra out and in front of me. My hand was steady as I held her; my breathing was slow and easy. What would happen, would happen—no point in worrying about it.
Now would be a good time, I thought.
“Loiosh, wait!”
“Hunh?”
“Get back here, both of you.”
“We’re not going to—”
“No. We’re not. We wait.”
“You’re the boss,” he said.
They circled the room once, making everyone, even the Demon, flinch a little, then landed on my shoulder again.
I became aware that a spell had gone up somewhere in the area; a teleport block, no doubt; they didn’t want to just seal the house, they wanted to seal the room. Lady Teldra could break it if I were willing to put some concentration into doing so, and then more concentration into the teleport, as well as removing all my protections.
Just how effective would the Phoenix Stone be? Of course, it wouldn’t help at all if they decided to drop several hundred pounds of masonry on my head; the most obvious way to sorcerously kill someone protected from sorcery. I resisted the temptation to look up.
These thoughts were removed from me, though. I considered these things, but they didn’t matter—what mattered was the waiting.
One of the sorceresses put herself between me and the door.
Now would be a very good time.
The Demon was watching me. He hadn’t moved, but his bodyguards had shifted just a bit closer to him. The sorceress called Triesco made a very slight motion of her right hand. I shifted the point of Lady Teldra, and the motion stopped.
Now. Now would be good.
I tried to watch everywhere at once. Even with Loiosh and Rocza helping, that was difficult. Someone was going to move, and then I was going to move, and then there would be blood. They m
ust know about the Phoenix Stone, they had to take it into account. Either they could get around it, or neutralize it, or outright destroy it.
I watched myself stand there, waiting, and wondered why I wasn’t scared.
There was a sound somewhere behind me, outside the room; a scuffle, a muffled cry, a thud.
Could it be . . . ?
I heard the door opening.
Everyone’s attention was suddenly focused on a point behind my left shoulder. And then I felt the presence of his weapon, and there was longer any doubt: the pure raw essence of the predator. I had been in the room when Blackwand was unsheathed, and I had always thought of that as being some sort of limit—that nothing could strike the mind as more vicious, more powerful. But this was something new.
Everyone felt it; even the Demon tensed up.
All the sorceresses stood up, stepped back, and began making various sorts of motions with their fingers, in some cases with ornate-looking daggers.
“Boss—”
“Is it him?”
“How did you know he—”
“He couldn’t help it.”
“But did he find—”
“He had a dream. I made a deal with the Demon Goddess.”
“You know, Boss, you aren’t as stupid as everyone says you are.”
“Hi there, Vlad. How are things?”
“Well enough, Telnan. Thanks for dropping by.”
“My pleasure.”
Caola stared at him. I’m thinking she badly wanted to ask how he’d managed to get past her teleport blocks, but she of course wouldn’t. I was still watching the sorceress; I didn’t turn around to look at the Dzur.
“Now, Vlad,” said Telnan, “you just make your way out the door, while I keep these charm—”
“No, I don’t think so.”
There was a very loud silence behind me.
After a moment, I said, “I think we’re going out of here together.”
They were all staring at him, except for the Demon, who was looking at me with an expression of wry approval, like I’d done something clever.
“Vlad, I came here—”
“I know, Telnan. It’s a Dzur thing. But I’m a Jhereg. We go out together.”
Caola said, “I don’t think you go out of here at all.” Caola looked at me, and I felt Telnan do the same. I hefted Lady Teldra.
“There are two of us,” I said. “And a bunch of you. I like our odds.”
“I don’t calculate odds,” she said.
I shrugged. “Up to you.”
Me, I did calculate odds. I wasn’t all that crazy about mine, but Telnan and I would certainly take some of them with us. The question was: Could Caola back down in front of her people? I knew that no one on our side of the Jhereg could afford to under these circumstances. Could she?
“Vlad,” said Telnan. “I really wish you’d let me do this.”
“Think of it as a good chance to practice not getting your own way.”
“I’m not good at that.”
“That’s why you need the practice.”
There was a sigh behind me. “All right. Think we can take them all? If I can’t die heroically, outnumbered and all that, I’d just as soon win.”
“Maybe. I wouldn’t care to bet this one either way. What do you think, Demon?”
“Me? I’m just here as an observer.”
“I know. But how do you like the odds?”
“Could go either way,” he said. “Not that it matters. If they don’t take you down here, we’ll do it later. Nothing personal, but we aren’t all that concerned about who puts the shine on you, so long as it happens the right way.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
I shifted my eyes to Caola and raised my brows. “Your call,” I told her. “Doesn’t much matter to me.”
“Or to me, really,” she said. “As your associate from the Right Hand pointed out, now or later. It’s all the same.”
“Yeah.”
She studied me. “All right,” said Caola at last. “You can go. We’ll postpone—”
“No!” said Triesco.
Caola turned to her. “Sit down.”
“I—”
“Sit down, Triesco.”
She sat. Caola said, “You—”
“He killed one of our sisters, and destroyed her soul. And arranged for another. He will die. At least.”
I cleared my throat. “I’d like to point out that she was in the process of trying to kill me.”
Caola ignored me and spoke to Triesco. “Yes, he will. But not just now.”
“I want—”
“There will be another time,” said Caola.
I do not doubt that Triesco had many talents; but one talent she didn’t have was concealing her rage. At least, she couldn’t do it just then. Eventually, she managed a nod.
“Okay,” I said. “Another time, then. But for now, I want to be clear on this. You—” I nodded to Caola, “—and your people, are out of South Adrilankha, and out of the business of the Council.”
“Agreed,” she said coolly. “Good.”
“What else?”
“And my friend and I get to walk out of here.”
“Yes. What else?”
“That’s all.”
“Agreed,” she said.
There was an almost inaudible hiss from Triesco, and the sounds of some shifting and moving, but no one actually said anything.
“Good.”
“Don’t think you’ve won,” said Caola. “This isn’t over.”
“Do I look like I’m gloating?” I said. “Then get out.”
I nodded.
I turned and walked out the door, Telnan behind me. The air outside tasted sweet.
EPILOGUE: AILOR DESSERT WINE
“You know,” said Telnan, “I really like this place.”
“Glad you approve.”
He belched. In some Eastern societies, I’m told that’s a compliment. I was taught to excuse myself. Dragaerans just ignored it.
“Thank you, Telnan,” I said.
“Oh, it wasn’t for you. It’s just the food—”
“No, not for belching. For helping me understand that I am not now, never have been, nor ever will be, a Dzur.”
“You were worried about that?”
“Not especially.”
“Oh. Well, you’re welcome. I’m glad Sethra sent me along.”
“Me too,” I said, lifting my glass in his direction, and drinking.
The wine that goes with the dessert is always the same: an Ailor, served chilled. How can I describe the product of the Ailor Vineyards of Fenario? Poems have been written to it, and that isn’t my skill. For my part, I’ll say that I’d have thought it impossible for anything to be that sweet without being cloying. The saying in the East is “Ailor is not created with magic, it is magic.” In the original Fenarian, that rhymes.
And it would take ten poets to describe the sensation of the wine with the palaczinta.
Words fail me.
I said, “Where is the child now?”
“With Norathar.”
“Can I see him?”
“Vlad . . .”
“Hmm?”
“Are you certain you wish to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, you’re going to be leaving.”
“I know. But still. Yes, I’m sure.”
She nodded. “I will arrange for the child to be brought here so you can meet him.”
“Here?” I chuckled. “I think Kragar will be amused to have his office turned into a nursery. What have you named him?”
“Vlad Norathar.”
I swallowed. Something about hearing the name made it all real. “Does Noish-pa know?”
“Of course. I informed him by the post as soon as I was able.”
“Able? Oh. Was the, uh, birth difficult?”
“No. Aliera was there. It was easy and nearly painless.”
“Good. I wish I’d been
there too.”
“What are you going to do now?” she said.
“See my son.”
She pretended not to hear what my voice did when I said that. “I meant, after.”
“Oh. I’m going to keep moving, I guess. Nothing is resolved.”
“Where to?”
“You really want to know?”
“No, I guess it’s best if I don’t.”
I nodded.
“I understand Sethra’s Dzurlord saved you.”
“Yeah.”
“How’d you like being saved?”
“About as well as you liked having me solve your problem for you.”
“Yeah, that was going to be my point.”
“I know.”
“Vlad . . .”
“Yes?”
“Nothing. I’ll go get the child.”
I nodded.
I should go visit my grandfather. Vlad Norathar’s great-grandfather. Yes, I could do that.
I could do a lot of things.
I could do anything.
Well, anything that didn’t involve being in Adrilankha; and anything that I could do with that amulet around my neck. And as long as I stayed on the move.
I wondered how long I could stand it.
“Where is Cawti?”
“Hello, Kragar. I didn’t notice you come in. Isn’t that remarkable?”
“Amazing. Where is Cawti.”
“Getting my son.”
“Getting your . . . okay.”
I nodded. “Put it all together, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t that difficult. Can I meet the boy as well?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“Then I’ll take you to Valabar’s.”
“Think that’s smart?”
“Of course not.”
“You can always go in disguise.”
I shrugged. “I’ll take the chance. It’s the Dzur in me.”
“Nothing personal, Vlad, but I don’t think there’s much Dzur in you.”
“No, there isn’t, in fact. Dzurlords are all about standing alone. I’m all about having friends. That’s why I’m taking you to Valabar’s.”
“Okay.”
“And I’ll introduce you to my friend Ric. I promised to let him know next time I went. Assuming that you don’t mind being seen with two Easterners.”