by Steven Brust
“Yes, by my meaning in particular.”
“That is understood.”
“Very well.”
“And, finally, she must be able to overcome your shyness.”
“That is, she must not object to my natural reticence and timidity, for, as you perceive, I am extremely modest.”
“Yes,” said Pel, biting his cheeks to keep from laughing. “I had noticed this about you.”
“Well, so you see the problem, Cavalier.”
“Your pardon, Thack, but I do not.”
“How, you do not?”
“Not at all.”
“Shall I explain it to you?”
“If you wish me to understand it, yes.”
“Very well, then, in two words: where am I to find such a woman?”
“That is your problem?”
“That is it exactly.”
“Well, but I know the answer.”
“How, you know it?”
“Certainly.”
“And you will tell me?”
“If you would like me to.”
“Like you to? I have been asking for an hour.”
“Well, then, the answer is called Jenicor e’Terics.”
“How, Jenicor?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“You know her yourself, Cavalier?”
“I?” said Pel. “Not at all. Do you?”
“Well, that is, I know of her, and I have seen her.”
“Well, then,” said Pel, “she is of high enough birth, I hope.”
“I nearly think so; she is almost the Heir.”
“And she is beautiful.”
“Of that, there is no question.”
“Well, what else?”
“What else? Why she must be willing to become close, and, moreover, close with a gentleman of my retiring disposition.”
“Well, that is the special mark of her character.”
“Bah! It is unlikely.”
“Not at all, for I heard exactly this, and in no uncertain terms. In fact, it is known that, upon meeting a gentleman who is both handsome and shy, well, she loses control of herself entirely, and cannot refrain from taking the sorts of long couch-rides where intimacies are whispered into the ear, and the sort of walks where pauses are frequent and of long duration.”
“You know this?”
“As much as if I had been following her about the city.”
“Well, and from whom?”
“Why, from Captain G’aereth, none other.”
“How, he told you this was her character?”
“Exactly, and in terms that left no room for doubt. He is also a shy gentleman, you perceive.”
“Well, I had not remarked that, but no doubt you are correct.”
“Oh, I am, of that there can be no question.”
“Well, I shall consider this.”
“Not too long, I hope; for you know about such women, one turns around, and they have been taken away. The Captain himself would have married her, only he is, as you know, a Dzurlord, which prevents him from marrying a Dragon, and, moreover, he is already married.”
“Well, those are two good reasons.”
“But they do not apply to you, good Thack.”
“Oh, as to that, I have no thought of marriage.”
“Well, no, but you know about women, I hope. Once they are married, well, it is sometimes a hundred years before they are willing to become close friends with anyone else.”
“Do you know, I had remarked that very thing.”
“Well, then, you perceive, you ought not to lose a day.”
“I think you are right, Cavalier, and I assure you I am deeply in your debt.”
“Bah. When I am released, well, you may buy me dinner and a few bottles of Ailor and tell me of the entire affair, and I promise I will be satisfied.”
“You think you will be released then?”
“As I have committed no crime, I am certain of it.”
“How, you have committed no crime?”
“None at all.”
“But then, why are you arrested?”
“I assure you, I have not the least idea in the world.”
“But then, you are right, they will doubtless release you soon.”
“That is my opinion.”
“And when they do, well, perhaps I will have something to tell you.”
“I would be most pleased to hear it.”
“Ah, Cavalier, I wish we could continue our conversation, but it seems we have arrived at the Dragon Wing, and the sergeant has already gone within, and is just now returning, so we are doubtless to escort you somewhere, which means our conversation must end.”
“Until later then, my dear captor.”
“Until later, Cavalier.”
Pel went up, then, and rejoined Khaavren, saying, “It is all arranged.”
“What is arranged, my dear Pel?”
“You shall see.”
“Well, I hope so, for we seem bound for the Iorich Wing, where the justicers live.”
“Are we, then, afraid of the justicers?”
“Not at all, but also in the Iorich Wing is the Imperial Prison, where prisoners of state are kept, as are those who are to be executed. And, while I hope we do not fall into the latter category, at least we fall into the former.”
In this Khaavren was not mistaken, and all he expected, in fact, occurred. But as it would be too painful to witness the process of locking the prisoners, for such all of our friends were, into the dungeons below the Iorich Wing, we will, instead, skip this matter entirely and proceed on to other things, wherefore we will, without further ado, end this chapter of our history.
Chapter the Thirty-second
In Which, Having Already Seen
a Bloodless Battle, The Reader
is Shown a Bloodless Duel
WE WILL NOW TURN OUR attention to a gentleman who has been neglected since the early portions of our history; that is, Captain G’aereth, he who sent our friends on the mission that had ended by bearing such unusual fruit. We should say that the Captain was by no means Pel’s dupe; he understood that the Cavalier’s reason for wanting to take this journey had not been stated in exactly truthful terms, but he understood as well that he would be likely to get useful information from the affair, and he was, moreover, always willing to go out of his way to help his Guardsmen, whom he thought of as the patriarch of a large family might think of his grandchildren.
His thoughts, therefore, turned more than once toward those he had sent, or rather, had permitted to go, east, and he wondered what events might be transpiring there. But he also waited with confidence that he would, by and by, learn many interesting things; for just as one cannot throw a bag of gold into the Almshouse of Chatier without expecting a certain amount of commotion, one cannot throw a Yendi, a Dzur, a Lyorn, and a Tiassa into the place where all of the political maneuvering of the court is centered without being certain that something or other will come of it.
To the left, however, we must consider that the Captain was still the Captain, and therefore, always busy, and that the court had not stood by patiently awaiting the results of events happening hundreds of leagues away. The Captain had continued with his duties, of which the primary one, although he was not aware of it, was to slowly transform the Imperial Guard from an elite fighting unit to a police force. As for the court, from what G’aereth had seen (and, while not an intriguer, he was nevertheless well informed) it had been concerning itself more and more with the scandals of the Consort, to which the Emperor appeared to have turned a blind eye. Lord Adron e’Kieron had been summoned, Lord Garland had vanished, and the Athyra, Seodra, seemed to be functioning as His Majesty’s chief advisor, while the courtiers watched anxiously to see in what direction she might impel the Emperor with regard to an invasion of Sandyhome, the disposition of the Pepperfields, and a score of matters of less importance except to those with interest direct.
In addition to all of this, he had found
that his time was taken by a series of incidents and complaints against his Guardsmen, all coming from unlikely quarters, and, upon being investigated, all of which proved false, in that the individuals who had purportedly made the claims vigorously denied them, so that the Captain came to the conclusion, at first, that Lanmarea was attempting to slander his command, and, after, that someone unknown was merely working to keep him busy. While this puzzled him, there was little he could do about it.
Word had reached the Captain’s ears that certain arrests had been made of some unknown gentlemen on certain charges involving a conspiracy of some sort, but as no names were attached to these rumors, nor the fact they were Guardsmen at all (in fact, the Guards who had arrested our friends were not even given their names, and none of our friends, except the clever Yendi, had thought to insure that his or her name was known), G’aereth spent no time considering the matter, which seemed to be none of his affair, and for which he had no time to spare in any event.
Therefore, we find him, some two days after the close of the previous chapter, in the apartments where he was accustomed to conduct his business; that is, the same closet in which he had the famous interviews with our friends. At about an hour after the ringing of the noon-bells from the Spiked Tower of the Issola Wing, which could, despite the intervention of walls and distance, still be discerned in the interior of the Dragon Wing, a certain Dragonlord who was on duty begged the Captain to receive the Marquis of Bothways, called Diesep e’Lanya, who asked to speak to the Captain on a personal matter.
“Very well,” said the Captain. “I know the gentleman; you may show him in.”
The Marquis was admitted, and bowed courteously to G’aereth, who invited him to sit. The Marquis politely refused the courtesy, at which refusal the Captain grunted, as if to say, “Well, then, so this call has some element to it that is not entirely friendly.”
The Marquis said, “My lord Captain G’aereth, I am here as a friend of the lady Jenicor e’Terics.”
“Why, yes, I know the lady.”
“Of that, there is no doubt.”
“Well, and what does she wish of me?”
“What, you do not know?”
The Captain grunted, as if to say, “How should I know?”
“Well then,” persisted Diesep, “can you not guess?”
This time the Captain was so moved that he spoke, saying, “I assure you that I cannot.”
“Well, but that is strange, my lord Captain.”
The Captain grunted, and spoke in addition, saying, “You speak in enigmas.”
“Well, would you have me speak plainer?”
“I desire nothing better.”
“And you wish me to state my mission?”
“I assure you I have been waiting for nothing else for an hour.”
“And it signifies nothing that I am here on behalf of Jenicor e’Terics? I repeat, Jenicor e’Terics?”
“Well, that tells me on whose behalf you have come, but nothing else. And yet, from the manner in which you speak, it seems that you are here for a particular purpose.”
“You are perspicacious, my lord.”
“And should I find a friend with whom you can arrange matters?”
“You have understood everything.”
“Well, although I have no knowledge of any quarrel she might have with me, still, she does me great honor to make this request, and I assure you she will no have cause to complain of my response.”
“I am surprised that you pretend to no knowledge of the complaint, my lord, yet I am delighted that you understand so well our desire in this matter.”
“Shall we arrange things quickly, sir?”
“I am convinced that would be best.”
“Very well, then—but excuse me, I am called for.” Indeed, at that moment, the Guardsman who had the honor that day to be the Captain’s doorman, requested an audience on behalf of the Duke of Threewalls. The Captain solicited and received permission of Diesep to attend to the Duke first, whereupon Lord Allistar was admitted, and introductions were made, although unnecessarily since the Duke and the Marquis had had occasion to encounter one another before.
“You have requested to see me?” said the Captain.
“Indeed yes; I come on behalf of my sister, the lady Illista.”
The Captain frowned. “How is this? Another affair of honor? Can I have been offending every lady in the Empire without being aware of it?”
Lord Diesep at first smiled at this, then frowned and said, “I must insist, Duke, that, as I was first, my affair must be concluded first.”
“You misunderstand,” said Threewalls, bowing. “I am here on behalf of my sister, but only to ask you a simple question.”
“Ah, that is all? Well, that is much more easily managed.”
“Then you will entertain my question?”
“I will more than entertain it, my dear Duke, I will, if it is in my power, answer it.”
“So much the better.”
“Ask, then.”
“My sister is interested, for reasons we need not discuss, in a certain Guardsman who is in your brigade.”
“Well, and?”
“She has not heard from him in some time, and is desirous of knowing his state and his whereabouts.”
“Perhaps,” said G’aereth, “he has been busy.”
“It is possible, but, under the circumstances, not likely.”
“Well then, who is he?”
“He is a Tiassa named Khaavren.”
“Ah, yes. Well, the gentleman is on a mission, I am not at liberty to say where, and he has not yet returned.”
“And you have heard nothing from him?”
“He is, as you have observed, a Tiassa. I am unlikely to hear from him until he is able to make a complete report.”
“Well,” said Allistar, bowing, “that is all then. And if I can in any way be of service to you, you need only ask.”
“In that case,” said G’aereth, with a glint of humor in his eyes, “I will ask now.”
“Now? Then am I to be granted the happiness of serving you in some manner?”
“If it will not trouble you.”
“Well, tell me what you wish, and, even if it does trouble me, you may keep on asking.”
“This gentleman,” G’aereth nodded toward Diesep, “conveys a challenge from Jenicor e’Terics, and, to arrange matters, I stand in need of a second.”
“And you are asking me to stand for you?”
“Yes, that is it exactly.”
“Well, if you will allow me to dispatch a messenger to my sister, in order to inform her of the results of the interrogatories to which you have done me the honor of replying, I will stand for you with pleasure, my lord Captain.”
“Very well, then, let us arrange things.”
“For my part,” said Diesep with a bow to Threewalls, “I ask nothing better.”
The matter was quickly settled; they agreed to fight with longswords, until one or the other was unable to continue. The seconds, it was agreed, would merely observe. They dispatched a messenger to Lytra e’Tenith to inquire if she would honor them by judging, and Diesep agreed to accept a pair of Guardsmen as witnesses. While they awaited Lytra’s response, they sat amiably as two old friends speaking only on inconsequential matters.
Presently the messenger returned bringing not only Lytra’s reply, but Lytra herself, who embraced G’aereth as an old friend and greeted Diesep cordially enough, after which the same messenger was dispatched, this time to bring Jenicor to the Sycamore Pavilion, which place had been agreed upon as the sight of the engagement.
In order for our readers to have an understanding of the scene, it is necessary to say that the Pavilion of the Sycamores was not, as one might think, a covered terrace surrounded by those trees for which it was named; rather, it was an uncovered area with a flooring of grass and surrounded by a low stone wall, with a small fountain in the middle and a few marble tables at odd distances about it. It had b
een named for the twentieth Baron of Sycamore, Warlord to the sixteenth Issola, Emperor. This Baron had caused it to be built in order to please a certain lady of whom he was enamored, and who complained that the Dragon Wing was lacking in elegance. It was rather long in form, looking not unlike a shotball court save for the lack of goals and nets, and the existence of doors on either end. The fountain, we should say, had not seen use for five hundred years and was in poor condition.
G’aereth, Lytra, Allistar, and Diesep arrived with the witnesses, and had to wait only a short time before Jenicor arrived. She was dressed in the manner of the high Dragonlord she was, that is, in black with silver trim, wearing clothes cut for fighting. After a brief discussion, in which it was agreed that the entire length and width of the Pavilion would serve as the circle, saving only one side, which was set aside for the witnesses, the combatants took their positions.
Lytra said, “Jenicor e’Terics, will you be reconciled to Captain my lord G’aereth?”
She cast a haughty look upon her opponent and said, “Only if he will consent to apologize before the entire court, and to retract his words and admit that he lied.”
Lytra then turned to G’aereth and said, “Well, and will you consent to make this apology and these statements?”
G’aereth shrugged. “That is unlikely, as I am entirely ignorant of the statements the lady pretends I have made.”
“Impossible,” said Jenicor, glaring at the .
“How,” said G’aereth, drawing himself up to his full height. “You give me the lie?”
“Well, I nearly think I do,” she said coolly.
“Then, if we had not had cause enough before, well, on my honor, we do now.”
“Oh, I assure you, my lord, we had cause before.”
“That may be, my lady, yet I am entirely ignorant of it.”
“Then you deny—”
“No matter,” said G’aereth. “You say there is cause on your part, and I declare there is cause on mine. On your guard, then, and we will settle the matter pleasantly enough.”
Jenicor, rather than advancing, as one would expect her to do after having been paid such a compliment, lowered her sword and frowned. “Could it be,” she said, “that you are telling the truth?”