by Steven Brust
This, then, was the woman whom our friends found standing before a canvas upon which a few scant lines were traced (and yet more were erased), staring out upon the pink mist fading into the orange overcast and out to the lush green of the valley below the Redface.
Such was her concentration that the young boy with Khaavren’s message was nearly upon her before she was aware of him. Khaavren and his friends were at the top of a gentle slope of long grasses when she took the message, but by the time she had read it, were close enough to hear her say, “But, who is this gentleman, and what sort of reply does he wish?”
“It is I, my lady,” said Khaavren, before the peasant-boy could speak. The messenger turned around in amazement, but Khaavren handed him, as promised, three pennies, and said, “I will consider the reply as having been delivered.”
The boy looked from Khaavren to his friends, then to the painter, then back at Khaavren, and at last gave them a courtesy in such haste that it is barely worth noting and ran back up the hill at a good speed.
“Well,” said Kathana, in a voice full of gentle inquiry. “You are called Khaavren, you say. Who are your friends, and what will you have of me?”
“My lady,” said Khaavren, “it is my honor to present Lord Aerich, Lady Tazendra, the Cavalier Pel, and the lord Uttrik e’Lanya.”
These worthies bowed, but Kathana said, “Uttrik e’Lanya? Stay, I know that name.”
“I have the honor,” said Uttrik, “to be the son of the man you murdered.”
“Murdered?” said Kathana, her brows contracting. “The word is hard.”
“No harder than the deed.”
“I take it,” said Kathana, “that your presence here concerns this pretended murder?”
“You have understood me exactly.”
“And you believe, I suppose, that since you have chosen to style your father’s death a murder, that there is no reason why there should not be five of you, armed, to face me when I have only a poniard with me? Well then, so be it; I have my poniard. Will you attack me one at a time, or do you fear your blades aren’t long enough for that? Either way, I am ready.”
With this she drew the knife she had referred to, which was straight and rather long as such knives go, and she placed herself in the guard position of a knife-fighter, bent slightly at the waist and leaning forward with her right shoulder; her left hand reaching out as if to grab or claw.
“Your pardon, my lady,” said Aerich. “Forgive us for allowing you to misunderstand the situation.”
“How, misunderstand?” said Kathana, without moving from her stance.
“You misunderstand,” said Uttrik, “in that we will be happy to lend you a sword, and furthermore, you will be fighting only me, and, as for seconds and judges, we will—”
“Bah,” said Aerich. “My friend Uttrik is speaking only for himself. We have by no means come here to fight with you, and the proof is, we will do our utmost to dissuade our friend from issuing his challenge, at least here and now.”
“You will?” said Uttrik, who seemed startled by this announcement.
“Assuredly, my dear Dragon,” said Khaavren.
“But then, I have told you why I wished to find her.”
“Yes, and we have told you that your reasons were not ours.”
“And yet—”
“But tell me,” said Kathana, who passed a hand over her brow, “why the rest of you wished to find me?”
“Oh, as to that,” said Khaavren. “I beg you to believe—”
“My lady,” interrupted Tazendra. “We have come here only to reflect.”
“How, to reflect?” said Kathana.
“And yet,” said Uttrik, “in my case—”
“Be patient,” said Pel, touching Uttrik’s shoulder. “You will be given your chance for satisfaction.”
“I will?” said Uttrik.
“He will?” said Kathana.
“I have said so,” said Pel.
“Not at all,” said Khaavren.
Kathana shook her head, “It seems you have arrived here without agreement as to your purpose.”
Aerich said, “We have, nevertheless, arrived.”
“That is true.”
“Well,” said Uttrik, “if we do not all agree to our purpose, I know mine, which is to kill you, if that is agreeable. So, if you will—”
“My dear Uttrik,” said Aerich, “I beg you to remember that we are on Lord Adron’s land, and that we have eaten his food and although we have not slept under his roof, he has offered us that honor, and we have accepted. Consider this, and remember that this lady is a guest of His Highness.”
“Well,” said Uttrik, frowning, “you are right; I had not thought of that.”
At this point, as the proceedings seemed to Mica likely to be long ones, he seated himself in the grass, of which he pulled a stalk and began to chew it; more, we should note, from boredom than from hunger.
“But then,” said Tazendra, frowning, “we cannot arrest her, either.”
“Arrest?” said Kathana, on whose countenance emerged a frown much like Uttrik’s. “You speak of arresting me?”
“What would you?” said Pel. “You are wanted by the Empire, and some of us are Guardsmen, who have sworn a certain oath in which the arrest of fugitives plays a role.”
“So you intend to bring me back to Dragaera, like a criminal?”
“Not at all,” said Aerich. “As my friend Tazendra has had the honor to explain, we cannot do so while you are on Lord Adron’s land, any more than Lord Uttrik can attack you here.”
“But then, to remain here would be a cowardly act.”
“That’s my opinion,” said Uttrik.
“Whereas to leave would be a foolish act.”
“A very understandable position,” said Khaavren.
“How, then, shall I decide? Come,” she said to Aerich. “You are a Lyorn; what is your opinion?”
Aerich shrugged, as if to say, “You are a Dragon, why should you care?”
Kathana pondered. “So, although I am safe here, you have nevertheless come to kill or arrest me, according to your inclinations, and I must decide—”
“In fact,” said Khaavren, “that is not at all certain.”
“What? It is not certain that Uttrik wishes to kill me?”
“Oh, as to that,” said Uttrik, bowing, “you may rest assured that, not only do I wish it, but I am determined to do so at the earliest convenience to yourself.”
“Well, then, is it not the case that the rest of you want to arrest me?”
“Well,” said Khaavren, with some embarrassment, “that is not entirely certain.”
“And yet,” said Kathana, “I beg you to remember that this gentleman—what was your name?”
“Pel.”
“—that Pel stated in terms clear and precise—”
“He is very well-spoken,” said Khaavren.
“—that your desire was for my arrest.”
“Nevertheless,” said Khaavren, “you should be aware that you are not without friends.”
“Oh, as to that, I know it. Lord Adron is my friend. He is more than that, he is my patron.”
“Well, and he isn’t your only friend.”
“You know of another?”
“I do.”
“But, to whom do you refer?” ,
“As to that, I cannot say.”
“You cannot say?”
“It would be indiscreet.”
“How, indiscreet to tell me the name of my friend?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, go on.”
“Your friend, I should say, is known to me.”
“That is natural, or how could you know it is indiscreet to tell me his name?”
“Her name.”
“Ah, you say her. Then I am that much closer to knowing who it is.”
“Yes,” said Khaavren, “you may now eliminate from consideration half of the population of the Empire.”
“Which le
aves the other half,” pointed out Kathana, “which is still a good number.”
“That is true,” said Khaavren.
“Well, go on, then, my friend is a woman, and, though unknown to me, is known to you.”
“More than known to me.”
“More than known? She is, then, your—”
“Friend. Yes, exactly.”
“Then we have the same friend.”
“Precisely.”
“Which nearly makes us friends.”
“Nearly.”
“But then, does one arrest one’s friends?”
“I would think not, lady.”
“But you are a Guard, and therefore must arrest fugitives.”
“You have stated the problem in admirably exact terms.”
“Well, I have a solution.”
“I should be happy to hear it.”
“I shall accompany you from Lord Adron’s lands.”
“Yes, and then?”
“And then? Well, Lord Uttrik will kill me, and he will he satisfied, and you need not arrest me, because I will be dead, so there will be no question of your having failed in your duty.”
“An admirable plan,” cried Uttrik, bowing to Kathana with a gesture full of respect.
“And yet,” said Pel, “it would be sad for the world if an artist of your skill were no longer among us.”
“You are full of courtesy,” said Kathana. “But then, perhaps I will kill Lord Uttrik.”
“But,” said Tazendra, who had been following the conversation carefully, “we will be no better off than we are now; worse, in fact, for having lost a friend.” At this she bowed to Uttrik.
“Well,” said Kathana, “what would you have? I cannot think of a better plan. Besides,” she added to Uttrik, “it is already nearly too dark to fight; by the time we will have arranged terms, we shall be unable to see each other, and have to blunder about, hitting the seconds and the judges quite as much as each other, which would be both inelegant and ineffective.”
Uttrik agreed with the wisdom of this, and said, “Well, then, shall we set off in the morning?”
“It is, I think, a good plan,” said Kathana. “We shall meet in the stables and set off in some direction, and, presently, we will stop and fight.”
“I agree,” said Uttrik.
“And I,” said Tazendra.
“A satisfactory solution,” said Pel.
“It will have to do,” said Khaavren, frowning.
Aerich shrugged.
Chapter the Twenty-sixth
In Which the Author Resorts to a Stratagem
To Reveal the Effects Of a Stratagem
THE NEXT MORNING, AS AGREED, they met at the stables, where Mica, who had arisen rather before the others, busied himself in preparing the horses. Uttrik bowed to Kathana and said, “You rested well, I hope?”
“Indeed, I did,” said Kathana. “And you?”
“Oh, I passed a relaxing evening, such that I now find myself entirely prepared to meet you on equal terms, and it will not be my fault if I fail to separate your head from your body, a service, you recall, that you performed for my father without the formalities which I intend to observe toward you.”
“Well,” said Kathana, shrugging her shoulders. “Your loyalty does you honor. But, please to observe, he was armed.”
“Armed, yes. But had he been given time to draw his blade—”
“Oh, as to that—”
“Well?”
“I confess I acted hastily. And yet—”
“And yet?”
“His blade was in his hands.”
“My friends,” interrupted Khaavren. “Let us be about our travels.”
“Travels?” said someone who had just arrived at the service court for the stables.
Aerich bowed and said, “Indeed, Your Highness. We are just setting as out, as you see.”
Adron looked around, his brow dark. “But then, the lady Fricorith has chosen to accompany you?”
“I have,” she said. “And it pleases me that Your Highness has risen early, for I wished to express my thanks for Your Highness’s hospitality, and yet I feared to awaken you.”
“Well, you are most welcome, and yet I wonder why you have chosen to leave so precipitously.”
The Guardsmen looked at each other uncomfortably, but Kathana said, “Why, I have business with these fine people, that is all.”
“Business? May I inquire as to its nature?”
“Oh, as to that, well, I regret to inform your Highness that none of us are at liberty to speak of it.”
Adron looked at them all for a moment, as if attempting to read their thoughts. Aerich said, “We should also like to express our gratitude for Your Highness’s welcome of us.”
“Yes,” said Adron shortly. It was plain that he was dissatisfied with the answers he had received, yet he could find no pretext for insisting on more complete responses. At last he said, “Very well, then do me the honor to stop at the kitchens and take what you will need for your journey.”
“Your offer,” said Aerich, “is most generous, and we accept in the spirit in which it is made.”
“So much the better,” said Adron, after which he sighed, wished them all a pleasant journey, and retired.
When he had gone, Uttrik bowed low to Kathana, who returned the gesture briefly and said, “Let us be on our way.”
Without further words, they mounted and rode off, stopping only at the kitchens to procure bread, cheese, fruit, and some tough but well-seasoned dried meat. After this pause, which only required a quarter of an hour, they set out upon the road with Aerich and Khaavren in the lead, followed by Tazendra and Uttrik, then Kathana and Pel, with Mica bringing up the rear. Thus they passed below the Arch of Redface, and came to the road leading back down to Bengloarafurd.
“Khaavren, my friend,” said Aerich. “Permit me to observe that you seem gloomy today.”
“Well? Why should I not? Either Kathana will kill Uttrik, of whom I’ve grown fond, or Uttrik will kill Kathana, and I will have failed in my promise to Illista, or neither will kill the other, and I shall have to fail in my duty, for I am unlikely to arrest her.”
“My young friend,” said Aerich, “how you worry!”
“Well, and have I nothing worth worrying about?”
“Oh, as to that, there are many leagues between here and the city, and I have no doubt that an idea will occur to you before then.”
“And yet, Aerich, I assure you that I have no ideas, and moreover feel as if my supply of ideas has been, not only used up, but promised for years in advance. No, if there is to be an idea, it must come from someone other than me.”
“Well, there are always the gods. And if they should fail—”
“Well? If they fail?”
“Then there is whim, fortune, chance, or caprice, what you will.”
“I should then commit my happiness to the chances of fate?”
“My friend, do we not do so at every moment?”
“And yet, Aerich, you will forgive me if this fails to comfort me.”
“Comfort you? Who spoke of comfort? It is my belief—but no, you have surrendered to failure, and so you have no need of my advice. That is just as well, for advice is rarely heeded at any time, and never heeded when the advice is good.”
“What, you pretend that you have advice for me?”
“What does it matter, if you have given up?”
“Well, then, if you have advice, I declare to you that I will not give up until I have heard your advice. And, if I think it good, I will follow it.”
“So, you wish to hear my plan?”
“Kieron’s Boots! I’ve been asking for nothing else for an hour!”
“Very well, here it is: instead of taking this road, turn rather to the north.”
“How, the north?”
“Exactly.”
“That is your advice?”
“In its entirety.”
“Yet, I fail to see ho
w that will solve the problem.”
“Then I will explain.”
“I am most anxious for you to do so.”
“Here, then, is the explanation: Lord Adron’s domain extends further to the north than it does in any other direction.”
“Yes, and?”
“That is it.”
“What, that is it?”
“Yes. Traveling in this way, at a slow and regular pace, we have three good days ahead of us, during which time, well, many things may happen. Perhaps Kathana will die. Perhaps Uttrik will die. Perhaps you will die. Perhaps Uttrik and Kathana will become friends. Or, perhaps the horse will—”
“Well, I admit that there is some wisdom in your plan. But, how will I explain this path to Kathana and Uttrik, both of whom are anxious to reach a place where they may honorably slaughter each other?”
“In the simplest way, good Khaavren. Have you forgotten our mission?”
“How, our mission? To arrest Kathana? I assure you, I have thought of little else for—”
“No, the mission the Captain entrusted to us.”
“Oh. Egad, I had forgotten that mission.”
“Well, I beg you to remember it.”
“I have done so.”
“Excellent.”
“Now, that remembered, be good enough to explain why this mission will help justify the path we are to take, or, rather, have just taken, now that I perceive this northern trail upon which I have just set my horse.”
“In this way: Pepperfield lies to the north, and the southern tip of the domain touches directly on the county of Korio, the northernmost of Lord Adron’s domains.”
“Well, and is it the closest path?”
“Yes and no.”
“How, yes and no?”
“It is the closest path if we wish to ride.”
“And, if we were to walk?”
“Oh, we could walk there by to-morrow, or even by the end of to-day if we wished to hurry.”
“But we do not wish to hurry,” said Khaavren.
“That is true.”
“And, moreover, we would like to ride.”
“I think so.”
“Well, now I understand.”
“Then you have ceased to worry?”
“Not entirely, I confess.”