Dzur (5 page)

"Yeah, I heard. Any of them you can get back aboard?"

"None that I'm willing to."

I knew that tone; I didn't even consider arguing. "Okay," I said. "I'll do a little checking around."

"If you were to get yourself hurt doing this, I would hate it a lot."

"So would I."

"Don't joke about it."

"You know, that's a much more difficult request than merely taking on the Left Hand of the Jhereg."

A corner of her mouth twitched a bit.

"One small victory, Loiosh."

"If you say so, Boss."

She said, "I've been hearing stories."

"Of?"

"You. Jenoine. Lady Teldra."

Almost involuntarily, my hand brushed across the hilt of the long, slim dagger at my side. Yes, she was still there. "They're probably true," I said. "More or less."

"Is Lady Teldra dead?"

"Not exactly."

She frowned.

"You were involved in a battle with Jenoine?"

"More of a scrap than a battle," I said. "But yeah, I guess that part is true."

"How did it happen?"

"I've been wondering the same thing. A series of accidents, I suppose." She drank some more klava, and gave me her slow, contemplative look. "I'm not sure what to talk to you about anymore."

"Oh, I don't know. It shouldn't be that difficult. Say some-thing about oppressed Easterners to put me on the defensive. That should work." Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything.

"Okay," I said. "Maybe I should just be about this business. That will give you time to think up a subject of conversation." She didn't say anything.

I stood up. Even now, hours later and after a nap, it was some-thing of an effort. I hoped no one attacked me; I'd be slow. "You're always-"

"Shut up, Loiosh."

"Okay, Cawti. I'll be in touch."

"Do," she said.

I left the room without ceremony, or a backward glance, mostly because I didn't trust myself to say anything. After a bit of searching, I found Tukko. "Would you be good enough to ask Sethra if she'll do a teleport for me?"

He didn't quite scowl.

I have a small backpack I travel with, which contains a spare shirt, some socks, undergarments, and a couple of different cloaks that I switch between depending on the weather and other factors. I unrolled the gray one, and filled it with a few weapons that Morrolan had dug up for me the day before. I put it on, made sure it was hanging right, and took a deep breath.

Sethra came in and nodded to me. I took the amulet off and put it away.

"Good luck," she said.

I nodded.

An instant later I was standing at the east end of the Chain Bridge, in South Adrilankha.

2

Mihi told me what Mr. Valabar had prepared that evening. Of course, that evening was early afternoon, but let's not worry about trifles. It was house pepper stew, brisket of beef, Ash Mountain potatoes, roast kethna stuffed with Fenarian sausages, anise-jelled winneasourus steak, and triple onion beef. Then he stepped back a bit and waited. I had al-ways been puzzled by this behavior, until I realized that he was giving us time to think about it, while being available to answer questions.

"What do you recommend?"Telnan asked me.

Ànything. It's all good."

I ate some of the garlic bread.

"Langosh" isn't like anything else in the world. My grandfather makes it too. Loyalty demands I say my grandfather makes it better, but we won't stress the point.

It consists of a small, round loaf of slightly, very slightly, sweet bread that has been deep-fried. It's served with a clove of garlic. You bite the garlic in half, then coat the bread with it, burning your fingers just a little. Then you take a bite of the garlic, then you wait, and, as it's exploding in your mouth, you take a bite of the bread. It's all in the timing.

I decided on the brisket of beef, Telnan ordered the roast. We told Mihi, who smiled as if we were the cleverest two customers he'd ever had. Telnan studied my technique with the bread, copied it, and broke out in a delighted grin.

A Dzurlord with a big grin on his face. Very odd. But I was glad he liked the food.

"So," I said, picking up the conversation from some time before. "You're studying wizardry? Good. Maybe you can tell me just what a wizard is, then. I've been wondering for some time."

He grinned like his schoolmaster had just asked him the very question he had prepared for. "Wizardry," he said, "is the art of uniting with and controlling disparate forces of nature to produce results unavailable from, or more difficult to obtain with, any single arcane discipline."

"Ah," I said. "Well. I see. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," he said, sounding sincere. "What do you do?"

"Hmmm?"

"Well, I'm a wizard. What do you do?"

"Oh"I thought about it. "I run in terror, mostly!'

He laughed. Evidently, he didn't believe me. Probably just as well; if he had, he'd have been required to be scornful, and then I'd have been required to kill him, and Sethra might not like that. It did, how-ever, effectively kill the conversation.

I took another bite of garlic, waited for the explosion, then the bread. Perfect. Each bite of garlic was like a new discovery, exciting even in its confusion; each bite of bread the epiphany that completes it. And the combination took me away from all that had happened in the last few years, and into that time when things were simpler. Of course, they were never really simpler, but, looking back on them now, my senses filled with garlic and fresh bread, it seems like things were simpler then. Stepping off the Chain Bridge was also a step into the past, as it were. It made me think of a time before I had met Cawti, before I had begun working for the Jhereg, when I was just an Easterner, living along Lower Kieron Road, but walking across this bridge, or else along the waterfront to Carpenter, several times a week to visit my grandfather. My grandfather no longer lived here; now he lived in a manor house just outside of the town of Miska, near Lake Szurke. I'd visited him once a couple of years ago; I decided I should probably do so again, if I could get this matter settled without becoming dead.

My memory told me that all of South Adrilankha stinks all of the time. That isn't really true. You have to reach the Easterners' quarter to get the smell, and the Easterners' quarter is a large part of South Adrilankha, but by no means all of it.

I took the roads that were as familiar to my feet as langosh was to my tongue, though nowhere near as pleasant.

It was a little chilly in Adrilankha, but the cloak kept the ocean breeze off me. Loiosh and Rocza shifted on my shoulder; I could feel them looking around.

I tapped the hilt of my rapier, just to reassure myself that it was there. Lady Teldra hung just in front of it.

My boots were a fine, soft darr skin; quite comfortable, and good for walking across grasslands, and even feeling your way care-fully along rocky mountain passes; but they didn't suit the stone streets of Adrilankha. My old boots, however, were gone with my old life. I made it to Six Corners, which is as much the heart of the Easterners'

district as anywhere, and looked around. I was surrounded by humans, by my own kind; I felt the easing of a tension I hadn't known was there. Even being by yourself isn't quite the same as having your own people around you.

Now, it's never been all that clear who my own people are, but I'm telling it to you as it felt at the time.

Six Corners is, as they say, no place to found a dynasty. I'm told that, before the Interregnum, it was an area frequented by the higher class of merchant, but it was destroyed by fire and never rebuilt. As no one wanted it, the Easterners moved in, migrating from, well, from the East. After that, it was built up slowly and haphazardly; no one cared what happened there, or what things looked like. Or, for that matter, who did what to whom. The patrols by the Phoenix Guards were cursory during the day, and non-existent at night. Not, I suspect, because they were scared to be there; just because they didn't much care what happened. A few walls that had once been painted green, a roof that was sagging in the middle, and a doorway covered by a torn burlap curtain led the way into the abode of the finest bootmaker in South Adrilankha, maybe in the Empire. Since this wasn't Valabar's, Jakoub stared at me with undisguised astonishment, before saying, "Lord Taltos! You're back!" I agreed that I was. "How are things, Jakoub?" I knew it was a mistake the instant the words were out of my mouth.

"Well enough, Lord Taltos. We've had a bit of rain, you know, and that always means an increase in custom. And Nickolas injured his hand, a few weeks ago, and still isn't able to work, so most of his regulars are coming to me now. Of course, Lady Ciatha has chosen to let half her land lie fallow for the season, so I'm not getting any-"

"Good to hear," I said, before he could get really warmed up. He took the hint, praise be to Verra. "How are you, my lord?"

"Well enough, thanks."

He glanced down at my feet. "What are those?"

"Darr skin," I said. "I've been spending a lot of time walking through wilderness."

"Ah, I see. And, because it's the wilderness, your arches won't collapse?

Your heel won't callus? Your instep-"

"Do you still have my measurements?"

He looked hurt. "Of course."

"Then make me something suitable for travel outdoors or on paved streets."

He looked thoughtful. "For the soles, I can-"

"I want to wear them, not hear about them." I tossed him enough silver to make up for the second hurt look.

He cleared his throat. "Now, uh, your special needs...."

"Not as much as in the past. Just a knife in each, about this size." I made one appear and showed it to him.

"Can I keep it?"

I set it on the counter.

"Nothing else? Are you certain?"

"Nothing else for the boots, but I also need a new sheath for my rapier. The last one you made for me was, uh, damaged."

He came around the counter, bent over, and inspected it. "It's been horribly bent. And the tip's been cut off. What happened?"

"It got stuck in me."

He stared at me, I think wanting to ask how that had happened but not daring. I said, "It was an apprentice physicker, and I have no clear memory of just what he did or why, but I guess it worked."

"Eh . . . yes, m'lord. The new sheath-"

"Use the same design."

"And all of the additions?"

"May as well."

"Very good, m'lord." He bowed very low.

"How long will it take?"

"Four days."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Day after tomorrow."

I nodded. "Good. Now let's chat."

"M'lord?"

"Close up the shop, Jakoub. We have to talk."

He turned just the least bit pale, though I had never, in our long acquaintance, either harmed or threatened him. I guess word gets out. I waited.

He coughed, shuffled past me, and hung a ribbon across the door. Then he led the way into his back room, filled with leather, leather smells, oils, and oil smells.

Jakoub had a full head of black hair, brushed back like a Dragaeran trying to show off a noble's point (which Jakoub didn't have). I've never been able to determine if it's a hairpiece, or his own hair that he dyes. He was missing a couple of lower teeth, which was made more noticeable by a protruding jaw. His eye-brows were wispy gray, in sharp contrast to his hair, and his ears were small. His fingers were short and always dirty. He pulled out the one stool and offered it to me. I sat down. He said,

"My lord?"

I nodded. "Who has been running things, Jakoub?"

"My lord?"

I gave him Patented Jhereg Look Number Six. He melted, more or less. "You mean, who collects for the game here?"

I smiled at him. "That is exactly what I mean, Jakoub. Well?"

"I deliver it to a nice young gentleman of your House. His name is Fayavik."

"And who does he deliver it to?"

"My lord? I wouldn't know-"

He cut off as I leaned toward him just a little.

Before I'd shown up to run things, Jakoub had had a piece of everything that happened around Six Corners, and had ears that extended even farther. His piece might be smaller now, but it was still there. And his ears would still be in place. I knew it, and he knew I knew it. He nodded a little. "All right," he said. "A few weeks ago, everything changed. More of you-that is, more Jhereg showed up, and-"

"Men or women?"

He frowned. "Men, m'lord."

"All right."

"And they started, well, just being around more. It made all of my friends nervous, so I started asking questions."

"Uh huh."

"It seems there was someone else in charge. Someone from the City." I nodded. "The City" was how people in South Adrilankha referred to the part of Adrilankha north of the river. Or, well, west of the river.

"I've heard," he said, "that there is some group called the Strangers Group that gets the money."

"Named for Stranger's Road, or some other reason?"

"Stranger's Road. They work out of a private house there."

"Whose house?"

"I don't know."

I gave him the narrowed-eyed quick glance, and he said, "I really don't. It used to belong to an old lady named Coletti, but she died last year, and I don't know who bought it."

"Okay," I said.

It's funny how my mind works: it at once jumped to who I could get to bribe the appropriate clerk to check ownership records, forgetting that, well, I didn't have any "who"s anymore. After being gone for years, I was only back for one day and I was thinking like a Jhereg again. This could be good or bad.

All right, now I knew the place. What next? Check it out? Sure, why not?

What could possibly happen?

"You're starting to second-guess yourself, Boss. Careful."

"Yeah. I'm not used to this sort of thing anymore. Crime requires constant practice."

"Write that down to pass on to your successors. In the meantime-"

"Yeah." Point taken.

"What about collections?"

"My lord?"

"Do runners go to them, or do they send a bagman?"