The Book of Taltos (48 page)

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Authors: Steven Brust

BOOK: The Book of Taltos
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“I take it I’ve offended someone.”

“You’ve offended everyone, idiot. You don’t go around threatening the Organization representative in the imperial Palace. Can you understand that?”

“Threaten? I?”

“Don’t play stupid, Whiskers. I’m telling you to lay off. I’m telling you—”

“Why did you arrange to have those Easterners arrested?”

“You don’t ask me questions, Whiskers. I ask you questions, you answer them, then I tell you things and you do them. That is the nature of our relationship. Can you grasp that, or do I need to illustrate it?”

“Why did you arrange to have those Easterners arrested?”

A sneer began to appear on his face but he put it away. “Is there some reason I should answer you?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.”

“You’d never make it out of here alive.”

“I know.”

He stared at me. At last he said, “You’re lying.”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t lie. I’m cultivating a reputation for honesty so I can blow it when something big comes along. This ain’t it.”

He snorted. “Just how much bigger a thing do you want?”

“Wait and see.”

His teeth worked inside his mouth. Then he said, “Orders came from the Council. I don’t know who it was.”

“You could probably make a good guess if you put your mind to it.”

We matched stares, then he said, “My boss. Boralinoi.”

“Boralinoi,” I repeated slowly. “That would make sense. My area is your area is his area, and I now own South Adrilankha, so he’s responsible.”

“That’s right. And if you think you can mess with him—”

I shook my head. “I want my wife back, Lord Toronnan. That’s what it
all comes down to, okay? There’s no way I’m going to let her rot in the Imperial Dungeons, so you’d better figure out a way to help me, or stay out of my way, or try your best to put me down, because I’m going to be moving.”

He stood up. “I’ll remember that, Lord Taltos. I will remember it.”

After he was gone, I moved to the other side of the table, so I could watch the musicians, who were just setting up. It took me a while to find a waiter, but I finally succeeded and ordered pasta with peppers and sausage. He seemed surprised that I actually wanted to eat; I suppose most people were just drinking. And then when he started to leave, Kragar called him back and ordered one of the same, which puzzled him even more although he tried not to show it.

“What happened?” he said.

“I seem to have made another enemy.”

“Oh? Toronnan?”

“No. The Jhereg.”

Kragar cocked his head to the side. “Tell me something, Vlad: Why do I keep sticking with you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t. Maybe you’re setting up to knife me.”

“Don’t start getting paranoid now.”

“Well, if you aren’t setting up to knife me, maybe you should be. This would be the right time.”

He stared at me very hard, no sign of banter on his face. “You’d better give me the details,” he said.

I did so, starting with my interview with Soffta, up to the conversation with Toronnan. The food arrived in the middle of it and, as I was concluding, the musicians started up. I was surprised at how well the crowd quieted down, but I was pretty sure they’d make up for it later. I hoped to be gone by then.

The food was edible, the wine quite dry but good. The singer was good. Albynn stayed pretty much in the background so I didn’t notice him too much, though I might have if I’d known anything about music. I did note the dreamy smile on his face, which reminded me of how my grandfather looked when in the middle of a spell. For all I know I look the same way.

Eventually they stopped, and Aibynn came over and introduced his partner,
a relatively short Tiassa named Thoddi. We discussed inanities for a while, then they played some more. Kragar said, “What’s the plan?”

“I think I’m going to have to find this Boralinoi.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“Probably. Find out where he works.”

“What? Now?”

“Now. I’ll wait here.”

“Look, Vlad, aside from the obvious stupidities of barging in to see this guy without setting things up, how do you know Toronnan hasn’t just sent a team over here to shine you when you leave?”

“Let him try,” I said. “Just let him try.”

“Vlad—”

“Do it. Find out where he is. I’ll wait here.”

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

My enjoyment of the music was dampened just a little by a need to keep an eye on the door, but not too much, because there were Loiosh, Sticks, and Glowbug. Presently Kragar got hold of me again and told me where to find Boralinoi when he was working.

“He isn’t there now, Vlad. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you think the whole thing over, then? Maybe you—”

“Thanks, Kragar. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The crowd was just making it impossible to listen to the music when they stopped, and announced that they were finished and someone else would be playing next, which surprised me. I threw an Imperial into the jar, paid for the food and drink, and walked back home with Aibynn. We didn’t speak for a while, then I ventured, “You sounded pretty good.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That was a good one. Did you notice those fake seventy-twos I was throwing into the seventeens?”

“Uh, well, no, not really.”

He nodded. “They weren’t really seventy-twos, because you have to punch the one, the six-seven-eight, the ten, and the sixteen-seventeen of every measure, but it kind of works if you pretend every third measure is . . .” He went on, with me nodding and making interested sounds. Sticks, who was in front, fell back a bit to listen and the two of them got into a discussion of arcane
matters beyond the likes of me. I still wondered who Aibynn really was, and what he was doing here, and if he was going to assassinate the Empress.

Not that I cared.

“What do you care about, boss?”
said Loiosh as we walked up the stairs to my flat.

“Getting Cawti out of prison.”

“And then?”

“Don’t ask difficult questions, Loiosh.”

I asked Sticks and Glowbug if they wanted some wine before they took off. Glowbug didn’t, but Sticks knows the kind of wine I keep around the house, so he was right behind me when I went through the door.

What impressed me the most, I think, was how quickly Toronnan had moved. It was, what, half an hour, maybe, since I’d left him. The assassin was waiting just inside the door of the flat, and neither Loiosh nor I had any inkling. But Sticks, as I said, was right behind me, and when the dagger came slicing toward the back of my neck, he acted, pushing me sideways and forward into the room. I rolled and came up in time to see Sticks holding his clubs, connecting with the guy’s head, very hard. The guy went down. I felt a burn along my neck, touched my hand, and found blood. I hoped his blade hadn’t been poisoned. I discovered I was trembling.

“Good work,” I told Sticks. His only answer was to slump to the floor. It was only then that I noticed the stiletto that had gone completely through his throat and out the back of his neck.

Aibynn came into the room then and knelt next to Sticks, whose eyes were open and glassy. Loiosh landed on my shoulder and nuzzled my ear. I inspected the corpse of my enforcer and saw that his backbone had been neatly severed. What you call in the business a lucky shot.

A
N HOUR OR SO
later the bodies were gone, and Kragar was sitting in the living room with me while I gradually stopped trembling. “Right in my house, Kragar,” I said for about the ninth time.

“I know, boss,” he said.

“You don’t do that.”

Aibynn was in his room, drumming, he said, to pull himself back together. Kragar said, “I know why they did, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember a few weeks ago? Didn’t you go busting into someone’s house to get information from him?”

I took a very deep breath. “Yes,” I said.

“There you have it. You broke the rules, they broke the rules. That’s how it works, Vlad.”

“I should have known.”

“Yeah.”

Not more than a month before, Sticks had refused an offer for my head. His refusal had made him a target, and I’d saved his life, just as he’d saved mine before. And for what?

“I don’t think you should stay here, Vlad.”

“I’m not going to, Kragar. Thanks. I’m all right now.”

“I’ll wait until you leave, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I suggested to Aibynn that this might not be a safe place to stay tonight. He said, “No problem. I have a friend I can stay with.”

“Good. I’ll see you sometime.”

Kragar escorted me down the stairs and left me when it looked safe.

“Where are we going, boss?”

“An inn I know, on the other side of town.”

“Why there?”

“It’s across the street from where Boralinoi works.”

“Ah. What about Toronnan? He was the one who—”

“Fuck Toronnan. Fuck revenge. I’m getting Cawti back.”

It was a good three-hour walk, but I think it did me good.

I
WAS UP EARLY
the next morning, waiting just outside the inn where I’d spent the night. I stood in the shadow of the doorway, waiting. Rocza flew around looking harmless and terrorizing all the local, city-bred jhereg while Loiosh waited with me. I had six good hours of sleep inside of me, followed by three cups of klava and crumb-bread with goat cheese. Asharp, steady
wind came up the hill from my left, smacking me in the face and giving rise to reflections on the passing away of the old and the unfathomable nature of the new.

Not a bad day to kill, not a bad day to die, if either came to pass.

While I didn’t know what Boralinoi looked like, I had no trouble spotting him by the two enforcers who preceded him, the one on either side, and the two who followed him. They were good, too. I idly went through possibilities for nailing him as he walked down the street, and came to the conclusion that I’d have to bribe at least two, perhaps three of those enforcers to have a reasonable chance. They really were attending to business, and I had to do some fast shifting to avoid being spotted. Boralinoi was dressed expensive and walked like he knew it. I thought he’d look good in court, with his perfect black curly hair, rings on all his fingers, and delicate precise steps. He looked like he was probably perfumed, and doubtless had a scent-cloth next to his collar, lest he meet with someone whose breath he didn’t like.

He went into the leather shop that housed his offices in back. I gathered Rocza to my other shoulder and followed him in. I’ve always loved the smell of fresh leather, though here it was a bit overpowering, I suppose due to the admixture of scents of various oils and unguents used by this mysterious trade. In the front part of the store hung vests and jerkins, and when I slipped past to the back, there was an old Vallista laboriously pushing a heavy needle and thick thread into the seam of what looked like a leather flagon. Why anyone would wish to drink from a leather flagon, I don’t know.

Before he noticed me, I got past him and was facing a stairway leading up. At its top were two Jhereg who didn’t look friendly. They studied me and seemed to be wondering if they should challenge me or just drop me where I stood. I reached the top alive and said, “Vlad Taltos to see Lord Boralinoi.”

The shorter of the two said, “Appointment?”

“No.”

“Wait there, then.”

“Yes.”

He concentrated for a moment, nodded as if to himself, and said, “What do you want to see him about?” He had a voice like a metal file; it set my teeth on edge.

“It’s a personal matter.”

“So make a sacrifice.”

“Whom do you suggest?”

He smiled a little. I wondered if he kept his teeth crooked on purpose, just for the effect. He concentrated again, then said once more, “Wait.”

After a minute or two of standing there regarding the toughs who were regarding me, he said, “Go on in, the boss will give you five minutes.”

“Oh, happy day,” I said, and went past them.

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