Iorich (15 page)

She raised her head and her lips quirked. “What are you drinking?”

“Here? Something white and inoffensive. I don’t trust them.”

“You’re a snob.”

“Yes. But I’ll pay; this is my meeting. Are we eating?”

“Nothing for me.”

That was a shame. This was one of the few Dragaeran
places that had good food—a specialty called “cure” which involved meat covered in a spicy-sweet sauce. Other places made it, but here they’d been using the same oven for more than eight hundred years; it’s hard to compete with something like that. But it was my meeting, and she wasn’t eating, so neither would I. Lady Teldra would have approved.

Kiera got the attention of a middle-aged Teckla with extraordinarily thick eyebrows and a slack mouth, who tightened up his mouth long enough to nod at the order. A guy with almost no chin and wearing Jhereg colors came in and took a seat where he could ostentatiously watch me. I ignored him; Kiera kept an eye on him without discernible expression.
“Is he the only Jhereg in the place, Loiosh?”

“At the moment. Give it two minutes. They’ll be coming in the windows.”

“I don’t doubt it a bit.”

The wine arrived; it was as inoffensive as the Teckla who delivered it.

Kiera nodded her thanks. “It’s been years,” she lied. “I trust I find you well?”

“My ass is smaller and my feet are flatter, but I’m all right other than that.”

“And your purse? Is that flatter and smaller as well?”

“No, it’s all right. I still have most of what I got for Laris.”

She looked mildly startled. In this light, her eyes seemed almost gray, and her complexion nearly as dark as mine. She always seemed a little smaller than she was. “When I heard you wanted to meet me, I assumed you wanted something stolen. Is it information, then?”

“No, you were right. Well, both, really. I want something stolen. But not for recompense.”

“Ah. Of course.” She looked interested. “Tell me more.”

“How long has it been since you broke into the Imperial Palace?”

“Oh,” she said. She fell silent, her eyes lidded. Then, “Are you sure you want a thief, and not a spy?”

“I want a spy,” I said. “But I don’t know any I can use right now.”

“They’re different skills, you know.”

“I know.”

She nodded. “Go on, then.”

“There must be wonderful amounts of paperwork associated with Aliera’s prosecution.”

“Boxes, I’m sure. Stealing them will be less of a problem than transporting them. Not to mention that someone will notice they’re missing.”

“I don’t need all of them. Just one.”

“Which?”

“That’s the kicker. I don’t know.”

She gave me the eyebrow and waited for me to continue.

“Somewhere,” I said, “among the earliest papers associated with the case—maybe the very earliest—I’m hoping there will be something that will tell us how it started. I want to know who thought of arresting Aliera, or how the idea came up, or how hard it was to talk the Empress into it, and who objected and why, and—”

“Why should such a thing exist?”

“Because—okay, look: I won’t claim to know the Empress. We aren’t buddies. But I’ve met her, talked to her, and been there when Aliera and Morrolan and Sethra talked about her.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

“It wouldn’t have crossed her mind to solve her problem by ordering the arrest of a friend. I don’t think it would have crossed her mind to solve her problem by ordering an arrest.”

Kiera chewed her lip, then nodded. “I can see that. All right.”

“So someone else came up with the idea. I want to know who it was.”

“You think that will be in one of the papers in her case files?”

“I’m hoping to find something to point me in the right direction. I’m not expecting a complete answer, just a hint about where to look.”

“You
do
want a spy.”

“Yes. Know any?”

“A few. But this sounds like a challenge. I’d like to try it.”

“Good! How much?”

“Two thousand. What, too much?”

“No, no. Just startled me. But for what I’m asking, pretty reasonable.” I pulled out bank draft and a pencil, wrote a little, and handed it to her.

“I suppose you’re in a hurry?”

“Hard to say. Aliera’s in prison, so maybe she is.”

She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m looking forward to this.” She grinned the unique Kiera grin that brought back some memories and drove out certain others.

We drank our wine quietly; there was a low hum of conversation around us. The door opened again behind me, and an inoffensive-looking fellow in Jhereg colors came in and took a table against the far wall. He leaned against the wall, stretched out his legs, and looked at me.

“Think the Jhereg knows I’m here?”

“Possibly,” she said. “Do you have a plan for getting out?”

“Not a plan as such. I mean, I can run a lot faster than you’d think.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you’d have come here if that was the best you had.”

I shrugged. “I can always teleport to Castle Black. It isn’t officially safe, but the Jhereg isn’t going to mess with a Dragon.”

She nodded. “But they’ll know where you are, and they’ll be watching for when you leave.”

“Yeah. I’ve gotten kind of used to that, though.”

“If you’d prefer, I have another idea.”

“Let’s hear it.”

She told me. I laughed. Loiosh laughed.

I removed Lady Teldra’s sheath from my belt and slipped it into my cloak. “Do it,” I said.

She was quiet for a moment while she psychically spoke with a mutual friend, or maybe acquaintance. At one point she looked at me and said, “Where do you want to end up?”

I considered a few things, then told her. She nodded and again got that blank look. Eventually she focused on me and said, “It’s all set.” Then we drank wine and got a bit caught up on little things that couldn’t matter to anyone else.

Presently, the door opened behind me. Kiera focused over my shoulder and I turned my head. They were both women, nearly identical in appearance, both wearing the black and silver of the House of the Dragon and the gold uniform half-cloak of the Phoenix Guards.

They took two steps forward until they were directly behind me, and one of them said, “Count Vladimir Taltos of Szurke? Please surrender your weapon and come with us.”

I could feel everyone in the restaurant staring at us. I didn’t
look, but I could imagine the carefully expressionless faces of the two Jhereg. I gave the guards a big smile.

“Of course,” I said. I removed my sword belt and passed it back to them, then stood up slowly, my hands well clear of my body.

“It was a pleasure, Kiera. Until next time.”

“Be well, Vlad.”

I turned and gave my captors a nod. “I’m at your service.”

They escorted me out, one on either side, and directly into a prison coach. The driver and another guard were already in position. Loiosh and Rocza launched themselves from my shoulders, which the guards pretended not to notice; I guess they’d been informed that something like that might happen. I didn’t spot any assassins, but I wasn’t looking that hard, either. The guards climbed in, one next to me, the other opposite. The door closed, and the lock snicked, and there was the shifting of the coach as the sideman took his position next to the driver. Then the coach started moving and the Dragonlord opposite me handed me my weapon back.

“I trust that went as requested?”

“Yes,” I said. “My thanks.”

She shrugged. “Orders are orders. I don’t need to understand them.”

That was my invitation to explain what this was all about; I declined.

We rattled off. I couldn’t see where we were, but Loiosh kept me informed. Not speaking with my “captors” became uncomfortable, so I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. That lasted until the first jolt cracked the back of my head against the hard wood of the coach. After that I stared straight ahead, and just waited.

I didn’t need Loiosh to tell me when we arrived at Innocent’s Gate, as we call it in the Jhereg—the sudden dip into the lower floors where they bring prisoners. We stopped, and there were a few words exchanged in low tones, and then we started forward again—something I’d never done.

“Going through a tunnel, Boss. Okay, now we’re in a kind of courtyard. They sure have a lot of those coaches for prisoners. Stables, too.”

“Yeah, I can smell them.”

“Out of the tunnel, and, okay, you’re heading away from the Palace.”

“In the right direction, as agreed?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then.”

Or maybe not. I had mixed feelings about the whole thing.

The two guardsmen in the carriage with me seemed a lot more comfortable not talking than I was. We clanked through the streets; it’s always strange to ride in one of those, because you know everyone is staring at you, but you also know they can’t see inside the coach.

Eventually we reached our destination. One of them tapped the ceiling—two, then one. The reply came back, three slow taps. The coach bounced more, there was a clanking, and the door opened, letting light in and me out. My legs were stiff.

I looked around and felt a moment of panic; I didn’t recognize the place. It was a little cottage in a neighborhood full of two-story rooming houses. I noticed a small niball racquet, in front of it, on the narrow walkway between the street and the front door.

The carriage pulled away. Loiosh’s feet tightened briefly on my shoulder.

I took three steps forward, started to clap, and noticed a rope hanging from the eaves. I pulled it and heard the faint clackety-clunk from within. I was feeling something similar, but never mind. The door opened.

“I’ve been expecting you, Vladimir,” said Cawti. “Please come in.”

Q: State your name, your House, and your city of residence.

A: Bryn, of Lockhead, Your Worship.

Q: House?

A: I’m not certain, Your Worship.

Q: Not . . . You may address me as my lord. How is it you don’t know your House?

A: I was born into the House of the Teckla, my lord, but I enlisted in the army, and—

Q: You are still of the Teckla, son.

A: Thank you, my lord. Teckla.

Q: How did you come to enlist?

A: For the honor of the Empire, my lord, and to serve Her Majesty.

Q: That’s very good, son. Why else?

A: My lord?

Q: Who convinced you to join the army?

A: The recruiter, my lord. He offered three imperials to anyone who’d enlist.

Q: That’s a lot of gold, isn’t it, son?

A: I’d never seen, that is, yes my lord.

Q: What would you do for that much gold?

A: My lord? I don’t understand.

Q: You’ve explained that this is a lot of gold to you.

A: Oh, yes!

Q: It would seem that for money like that, you would have been willing to do things you otherwise wouldn’t.

A: All I had to do was follow—

Q: Nevertheless, Bryn, isn’t it true that there are things you would have been willing to do for three imperials that might have seemed wrong before you took such payment?

A: I guess.

Q: Can you describe what happened on the first Marketday of Lyorn of this year?

A: Yes, my lord. Deppi said we’d gotten orders to—

Q: Just answer the question, son. Describe what happened.

A: We were going through a sort of hamlet about a mile west of Seerpoint, when—

Q: What do you mean when you say “a sort of hamlet”?

A: About four or five cottages and a post stable, my lord.

Q: Was it four or five cottages, Bryn?

A: (Hesitation) Five, I think.

Q: Very well. Observe that it is important we be exact in all details. The Empire insists on no less.

A: Yes, my lord.

Q: Continue, then. Did this hamlet have a name?

A: Tirma, my lord. It was called Tirma.

Q: Very well. And what happened there?

A: The Stuffies were—

Q: Stuffies?

A: Your pardon, my lord. The, ah, the enemy.

Q: Go on.

A: They were hidden behind a stone wall on one side, and a row of jacklenut bushes on the other.

Q: And what happened?

A: It was a ’stoun, my lord. There must have been—

Q: Pardon me, son. A “ ’stoun”?

A: Um, a surprise? An ambuscade?

Q: I see. Go on.

A: They killed Jaf. He was on point, and at least three of them jumped him. They cut him to pieces, you know? Just hacked away, even after he was dead. We couldn’t get to him.

Q: That must have made you angry.

A: Yes, my lord.

Q: Very angry.

A: Yes, my lord.

Q: So, what happened then?