Hawk (Vlad) (10 page)

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Brash, or sneaky?”

“Yeah, that’s the question, isn’t it. What do you think?”

“If brash doesn’t work, they’ll be alerted to sneaky, if sneaky doesn’t work, you can’t pull off brash.”

“Well done, Loiosh. You’ve managed to state the problem.”

“Flip a coin?”

“Take a fly around the perimeter for me; let’s see if sneaky is even possible.”

“Am I reporting, or are you coming along?”

“I’ll come along.”

Across the narrow street and down a short distance was a place between two of the smaller houses where, by pulling my cloak around me, I could effectively be invisible. I crossed and waited there with Rocza, who kept shifting from foot to foot on my shoulder while Loiosh took wing. I relaxed, and fell into a sort of half-awake state, letting the images from Loiosh enter: guards in pairs, looking annoyingly alert; little knobs every fifteen feet on the fences, almost invisible sparkles around the doors, a vision distortion around the windows. Also, really thick-looking bars. One vision of the lock on the back door. Kiera could have handled the lock. I could handle the spells with Lady Teldra, only not without alerting every one of those guards, which in turn would make things bloody, as opposed to sneaky.

I returned to my own body. Loiosh returned.

“Brash, then?”
he said.

“Brash it is.”

“Then let’s go.”

“A moment. It takes me a little while to build up to brash.”

“Since when, Boss?”

There was no answer to that, so I went back across the street, right up to the pair of Jhereg flanking the gate.

They were good. One took a step forward, no weapon drawn; the other immediately began scanning the rest of the area and, I had no doubt, alerting someone. Bad guards either under- or over-react, and either can be exploited by sneaky types. Yeah, brash was the right choice this time.

I walked up until the short one—he was still a head taller than I was—was right in front of me, somewhere between sword range and dagger range. If you do enough fighting, you’ll start to automatically notice distances. The point here wasn’t that I did, it was that he obviously knew what he was doing. He had the dead eyes of someone who’s done “work.” He didn’t show fear, or curiosity, or, well, anything. His boss had been able to afford good help, and had gotten it.

“I want to see your boss,” I said. “Let him know Vlad Taltos is here and wants a meeting.”

He couldn’t keep his eyes from widening a bit. Yes, he’d heard of me. And that meant he knew he could become rich right here and now. I watched the wheels spin in his head as he weighed the pros and cons; it wasn’t what he was being paid to do. And I might not that be that easy to take down.

But it was a
lot
of money.

I slowly eased my cloak aside, set my hand on the hilt of Lady Teldra, and raised her about a quarter of an inch, then slid her back in. He got enough of a taste of Lady Teldra to help him make up his mind. A fraction of a smile quirked his lip for a fraction of a second, then he said, “Your message is delivered,” and about the time he had finished speaking, there were four more of them there.

I acted like it was no big deal, and I waited.

It was natural that they’d get the forces out, whether their boss agreed to see me or not. It was just a question of protecting him while he decided if he wanted to see me.

“Boss? This is making me uncomfortable.”

“Me too. But I need to see this guy. They’re just making sure. They’re afraid of me.”

“I know, but—”

“But you’re right. Scout the area.”

Loiosh stayed where he was, but Rocza launched herself into the air. The guys around me let their eyes flick to her, then come back to me. Still, none of them had drawn a weapon.

“Three more coming toward us, Boss. No, make that five. From the back side of the house.”

“Shit,”
I suggested.

“Half a minute,”
he added.

Aloud, I said, “Tell the ones who are approaching to stop, or I’ll get nervous. Your boss will either see me, or not. You don’t need any more protection.”

He looked at me.

“Boss, they’re still coming.”

“Last chance,” I told the guy.

The guy in front of me reached for a dagger.

“Morganti!”
Loiosh screamed into my mind, but he needn’t have bothered; that’s a feeling you can’t miss. Then things happened fast.

My first thought was,
Dammit, this isn’t how I wanted it to go down
; my second thought was,
Just how many of those things
are
there in this town?
After that I was too busy to think.

Loiosh was in someone’s face, and I threw a knife in the general direction of another, and, I remember clearly, there was a horrible fraction of a second when I reached into my cloak for a shuriken that wasn’t there.

In the back of my mind, I realized I wasn’t in shape for this, either physically or mentally. I had no time to indulge the feeling, so ignoring it was easy.

I know I was rolling on the ground, and then I was on my feet, and since my cloak wasn’t good for anything else I undid the clasp with one hand and threw it into a face. I turned quickly and one of them was coming at me with a sword, so I moved in on him to throw off his distance and he cut my left arm below the elbow but I put my dagger into his throat, then Loiosh yelled for me to duck to the side, and I did and something missed me. I drew my rapier, and took a step backward toward the street.

Three of them were still up. One of them was bleeding badly from two different wounds on the same arm, and the other two were swinging wildly at Loiosh and Rocza, who were darting just into range then back out again. It’s hard to fight flying things; I like to have them on my side.

I drew Lady Teldra with my left hand. The presence of a Morganti weapon that powerful instantly spread out and assaulted the mind of anyone in the area who had one. A mind, I mean. She took the form of a wide-bladed, leaf-shaped fighting knife, and she felt very good in my hand.

“Facedown on the ground,” I said, “or I start using this.”

Loiosh and Rocza backed off to give them time to decide. I tried very hard to hide how much my hands were shaking. And my knees. My side, which I’d thought Lady Teldra had completely healed, was aching in a bad way.

“Now,” I explained. I sincerely hoped they understood the explanation, because if they didn’t it would be bad for them, and very likely worse for me.

They dropped their weapons and dropped to the ground as the reinforcements arrived. The Morganti dagger was lying on the ground; I kicked it away. Loiosh and Rocza landed on my shoulder and I said, “I just want to talk to your boss. If he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll go away,” I added. “And let him know that if lets me in, he’ll have a lot of chances to ambush me inside the house.”

They looked at me.

“Please?” I said. And gave them my warmest smile. I’ve learned that it doesn’t show weakness to be polite when you are holding a Great Weapon.

One of the new arrivals—a pale man with almost no neck—seemed to be in charge. After a long enough pause for messages to go back and forth between a couple of minds, he said, “All right, you can come in.”

I hesitated. Did I dare trust him? The reinforcements were still standing and there were a lot of them. As if on cue, a bunch of them turned and walked away. All right, then. I sheathed Lady Teldra and my rapier, and retrieved my cloak. “Thanks,” I said.

Two of them led the way for me, and the rest went back to their positions. The ones who’d been on the ground got up, and, without even wasting a dirty look on me, started to help the ones who were injured. The one I’d gotten in the throat looked like he might not make it.

The door opened and I was met by an enforcer dressed as a butler. He acted like a butler, too. I’d have believed that’s all he was if it weren’t for his eyes.

It was a very impressive home. I’d been there before, and I’d been impressed then, too. I was escorted up a long, white, curving stairway to what I’d think of as a study—a few books, a desk, a pair of chairs, some small sculptures and expensive paintings and psiprints—except that it was closer to the size of a ballroom than a study. Okay, I’m exaggerating. The chairs looked comfortable enough. I picked the one that didn’t go with the desk and stood next to it, waiting. The butler left, the two-man escort remained; not exactly watching me, but not exactly not watching me.

All together, like old friends, we stood there and waited for the guy generally known as the Demon. My left arm dripped blood on his floor, and it served him right as far as I was concerned. I studied his desk. It was pretty clean. There were a few papers on it, a quill pen, and what looked like a pile of handkerchiefs. Maybe he perspired a lot? There were a couple off to the side that seemed to have been used. I wondered if I could steal one without either of the guards noticing. I leaned over the desk.

“Back away, please,” said one.

I stuffed the handkerchief in my sleeve as I backed away.

At a meeting like this, the time you’re kept waiting is a good indicator of where you stand. In this case, it was less than two minutes. He came in briskly, as if he had not the least worry that I might be there to kill him. He sat down in the chair next to the desk, not behind it, and nodded toward another. I sat in it, and he made a gesture to the two enforcers; they stepped back until they were out of earshot, but close enough to watch me. Which is probably why he had such a big study.

“Lord Taltos,” he said.

“Demon.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks.”

“How did I get to be the guy you always come to?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t try to have me killed.”

“Is that it?”

I smiled.

He shrugged. “Seemed worth the shot. Did you kill any of them?”

“Not sure. Maybe one.”

He swore softly and without much conviction.

“I was trying not to, but I was also kind of busy staying alive. That seemed the higher priority.”

“People do underestimate you, Taltos.”

“I know.”

“All right. I have tickets for a concert tonight, so let’s get to it.”

“I want to propose a business venture.”

“Uh-huh.”

“For you, and for the Jhereg.”

“Very kind.”

“Very lucrative. So lucrative, in fact, that in gratitude, you’ll cancel all the ill-feelings directed toward me.”

He studied me. After most of a minute, he said, “That would have to be
extremely
lucrative.”

“It is.”

“Tell me.”

“What if you could listen in on psychic communication?”

His eyebrows went up. “That would be useful.”

I continued. “What if you could sell that service?”

“Well, yes. That would be lucrative.”

“What if you could also sell the service of preventing it?”

“Well, all right. You have my attention. You can do that?”

“I think so, yes.”

“You think so?”

I shrugged. “If it turns out that I can’t, you haven’t lost anything.”

He said, “There would need to be proofs. A lot of proofs. Enough so that I’m not only convinced it works, but that it wouldn’t be possible to fake it; and then I’d need some independent verification on that. From a sorcerer I trust.”

“That’s more or less how I figured it.”

“How long will it take to set up your proof?”

“A few days.”

“I can’t guarantee your safety in that time.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“That is correct.”

I nodded. “I don’t expect any reward until I’ve delivered the technique, and proof that it works. If someone manages to nail me before I’ve done that, tough luck for both of us. I just want your word that, if I deliver, you’ll take the price off my head.”

“Is there a catch?”

“You mean, like, it’s so hard to do it’s impractical? Or it would alert the Empire, or, I don’t know, some reason why you’d regret the deal after you made it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then no catch. That’s part of the deal. You judge if you’re happy with it.”

“You’d trust me with that?”

“That’s the other reason I came to you.”

He nodded. “You have my word.”

“Good, then.”

“A few days, you say?”

“If I’m not killed setting it up, a few days should do it.”

“What will you need for the test?”

I shrugged. “Someone not in the room to communicate with someone who is in the room. Someone he—you—can communicate with, which means you’ll have to know him, I suppose. I shouldn’t know who that is, or who you’ll be talking to. Any of you. We’ll want two or three tests so you can be convinced. Sorcerers present, so they can see what I’m doing well enough to duplicate it. Probably better in an area that isn’t too crowded. And we’ll—”

“Why?”

“My lord?”

“Why somewhere deserted?”

“Not deserted. It doesn’t have to be deserted. But the fewer people speaking psychically, the cleaner the test will be.”

“And the easier?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“So then, somewhere just a bit out of town?”

“Yeah. And that way it isn’t in someone’s territory, which might be a good idea politically. For me, an ideal location would be comfortable, out of town to cut down on unknowns, but not too far out of town because I have to walk. West or north would be better than east because it’s easier to get to. But none of those things are required. You pick the place.”

“What about protection?”

“For me? None. Your word is good.”

“All right. What else?”

“Nothing. What do you need?”

“As you say, at least three tests, with three different people.”

“All right.”

“In addition to those tests, I’d like one where I’m sending the message instead of receiving it. Is there a problem with that?”