Read The Phoenix Guards Online
Authors: Steven Brust
The Phoenix Guards (42 page)
“Oh, indeed yes,” said Uttrik. “Either would have been too droll compared to what actually happened.”
“Cha! And what is continuing to happen even now, for I, at least, am unable to foresee where this will end.”
“Nowhere good, I’m afraid,” said Mica, who had been as crushed by recent events as the others were rigorously cheerful; as if he was assuming
to himself all the melancholy that was the rightful property of the entire band. This can be more readily understood when we consider that, a few hours before, he had been about to take his place as lackey for a valiant Dzurlord, and he was now only the servant of a prisoner; a position which, so far as we know, has never been actively sought by anyone.
to himself all the melancholy that was the rightful property of the entire band. This can be more readily understood when we consider that, a few hours before, he had been about to take his place as lackey for a valiant Dzurlord, and he was now only the servant of a prisoner; a position which, so far as we know, has never been actively sought by anyone.
As for the others, they were, as we mentioned above, doing their best to maintain their spirits. Tazendra was involved in a discussion with a Guardsman on her right, explaining to him how, if they had chosen to fight, it would have been a simple matter after all to have scattered and defeated a mere twenty of the enemy.
“And our flash-stones?” inquired the gentleman politely. “What of them?”
“Oh, bah,” said Tazendra, using an expression she enjoyed from Pel and admired from Aerich. “What are flash-stones? They would have failed to discharge. And if by chance they went off, well, Blood of the Horse, it isn’t for nothing that I am a sorcerer. I should have rendered them useless in an instant.”
“Well, that may be true of the flash-stones, but we had still our swords.”
“Mere nothings,” said Tazendra. “Sticks. I’d have brushed away three of them at the first, inflicting, I should add, good wounds on their holders.”
“Well, that is three,” said the other. “But it leaves seventeen of us, not to mention the sergeant, who is a skilled player, as I happen to know.”
“But you forget our servant, Mica, who is handy with a bar-stool, but delights especially in striking officers, for, as a child, he was ill used by soldiers, and consequently he bears a grudge.”
“And, as for the other seventeen of us?”
“Well, had I not companions?”
“You had indeed; five of them. That means three for each of you, if I am not mistaken.”
“And yet, there were but three windows, each only big enough for one, and the door, where we could have stationed two, leaving one of us free to dance around as chance offered.”
And so the discussion continued, accomplishing nothing, it is true, but providing Tazendra with great amusement.
As for Pel, he took the opportunity to question one of his captors and thus learn what he could of what had transpired at court during his absence.
Uttrik and Kathana happily and loudly discussed the history of Lanya e’Kieron, which Aerich had brought to their minds. She had been considered a rebel for her opposition to the Athyra emperor, and then again for engineering the Coup of the Bureaucrats against the Phoenix Jessier the Fearful, when, first backed by and then opposing a conspiracy led by a Tsalmoth noble called Seawall, she, that is, Lanya, took the Palace, the Throne, and the Orb with an army composed of fifty soldiers and two thousand privately trained functionaries, an action which gave her a permanent place in history
and started the War of the Streets. The War lasted some two hundred years, off and on, during which time Lanya caused the Inner Palace to be designed and built: the only part of the Palace which could be held against attackers.
and started the War of the Streets. The War lasted some two hundred years, off and on, during which time Lanya caused the Inner Palace to be designed and built: the only part of the Palace which could be held against attackers.
Aerich seemed content with his own thoughts, whatever they might be, and Khaavren constructed dreams in which Illista figured prominently, only this time, in his dreams, she rescued him from prison and contrived to bring him before His Majesty, where together they pleaded their case and, not only won the release of all the companions, but were awarded promotions and medals enough to satisfy a Dzurlord.
Of the companions, only Mica, as we have said, was downcast. And so it was a complacent group which, surrounded by Guards, passed through the Gate of the Flags in the early afternoon, and turned up the Old Miller’s Road toward the Palace district.
About this time, Khaavren became curious about their destination, accordingly he asked the sergeant.
“The Dragon Wing, first,” she said. “After that, I am entirely ignorant.”
“Well, it must either be a prison or the Emperor.”
“That seems likely, Sir Khaavren.”
“For my part, I must confess that I don’t much care. If it is His Majesty, well, we will have the chance to find out why we have been arrested, and I think we can convince him to change his mind with respect to ourselves. And if it is prison, well, in faith, I can use the rest.”
“Well, I am happy that you are so complaisant, for I should hate to resort to extreme measures with a gentleman like yourself.”
“Oh, there will be no call for that, I promise.”
“Good.”
“But you ought to tell me if there are any special instructions, so that we may be certain not to unintentionally cause you any difficulty.”
“Oh, be easy on that score. The only special orders were in the case of resistance.”
“And, had we done so?”
“Well, then I was ordered to have all of you killed.”
“What, killed? All of us?”
“Exactly.”
“Impossible.”
“No, my word of honor on it. And, as such a slaughter would have been distasteful to me, well, I am only glad that you did not resist.”
“Well, in faith, so am I. And that was the only special order you were given?”
“Yes, only that, except that I am also to prevent you from escaping, and to be certain you communicate with no one.”
“How, we are forbidden to speak with anyone along the way?”
“Exactly.”
“Well,” said Khaavren, to whom this request presented all sorts of meat upon which the teeth of his thoughts could masticate, “then, if you will
excuse me, I must inform my companions of this, lest, upon seeing a familiar face, someone unintentionally causes you some difficulty.”
excuse me, I must inform my companions of this, lest, upon seeing a familiar face, someone unintentionally causes you some difficulty.”
“Well, I will be most grateful if you do.”
“I will do so at once.”
“I assure you, I am entirely your servant.”
“Excuse me, then.” Khaavren allowed his horse to drop back until he rode next to Pel, whom he judged to have the best sort of mind for problems of this nature. He interrupted the Yendi’s discourse, saying, “I beg your pardon, Cavalier, but I wish to have a moment’s conversation with you.”
“As you wish,” said Pel, excusing himself from the Guardsman he had been questioning. Then speaking in a low voice so as not to be overheard, he said, “Well, what is it?”
“Do you know that our captors have orders to prevent us from making any sort of communication with anyone along our route?”
“Blood! Do they?”
“I have it from the Sergeant herself.”
“But, what can this mean?”
“It can only mean that our arrest is to be kept secret, and moreover—”
“Yes?”
“That we are not to be given a chance to defend ourselves.”
“But then, you think—?”
“That we will put in some dungeon somewhere, and no one will know what has become of us, and, presently, well, we will disappear.”
“Bah. Impossible. And what of our escort?”
“They will be put under orders not to mention our names nor the circumstances of our capture.”
“But, who would have given such an order, and moreover, why?”
“Who? Who else but Seodra. Why? Because they have despaired of assassinating us, and, since we failed to resist them, the Sergeant could not have us killed as she had been ordered to in such a case—”
“What? Killed?”
“Those were her orders, if we had resisted.”
“Cracks in the Orb!”
“Well?”
“I think you are right, Khaavren; they wish us to vanish with no chance to defend ourselves.”
“That is my opinion. It is why I have spoken to you, for you are sufficiently clever, I thought you might have a plan.”
“Well, I nearly think you are right.”
“What, you have one already?”
“Almost.”
“What is it?”
Pel shook his head. “Leave me for a few minutes; I must gather my thoughts.”
“Very well, but I beg you to observe that we are passing the ruins of the Towers of Sorcery, and are very nearly at Watchers Hill, which means we will soon be arriving at the Dragon Wing.”
“I understand. Leave everything to me.”
“I will do so.”
“Very well.”
Pel returned then to the side of the Guardsman with whom he had been speaking. “Your pardon, my dear sir,” he said. “I had to speak a few words of comfort to my friend who is in some despair over our predicament.”
“Well, that is only natural,” said the Guardsman, whose name, it turned out, was Thack. “But, come, we ought not to talk about that.”
“Oh, I am in complete agreement. Besides, it is hardly so amusing when compared to the escapades of the Consort. But come, do you think that she is very close with Threewalls?”
“How,” said Thack with a smile. “What do you mean by close?”
“Oh, you know very well what I mean.”
“I assure you, I have no idea in the world, Cavalier.”
“But to be close, well, that is clear enough. We are close now, you and I.”
“Not so very close, Cavalier; we are not touching.”
“Yet we could, if one or the other of us was to reach out a hand, my good Thack.”
“And yet, you perceive, neither of us has done so.”
“But if either of us could, then—”
“Yes, then?”
“Well, that is being close.”
“Not in the least. My opinion is that, to be close, one must touch.”
“Very well, then,” said Pel. “By your terms then, is the Consort close to Threewalls?”
“Well,” said the Guardsman with a wink. “Close, at least, by your terms.”
“Bah,” said Pel. “That isn’t so much.”
“Yet,” laughed the other, “for my part, I think it a great deal.”
“To be close by your terms, Thack, well, that would be better.”
“Oh, with that I should make no argument, good Pel.”
“I imagine you know well enough, Thack.”
“I? Not the least in the world, and I am ashamed to admit it.”
“Bah! Your mistress, at least, would have a different story.”
“Oh, if I had a mistress, that might be true.”
“How, if? You mean you don’t have a mistress? And yet, you are handsome enough; and you have an excellent air about you; I should have thought the ladies would faint for you by the score.”
“Oh, all you say is true, yet I am too shy to take advantage of it.”
“Oh, then you require a woman who knows in what way to treat a shy gentleman.”
“Well, that would certainly please me, only—”
“Only?”
“Well, she would have to be well-born, in addition.”
“That need not be said; I know with whom I am speaking after all.”
“And, in addition, it is necessary that she be beautiful.”
“That is only just.”
“You perceive, then, that I am extraordinarily particular, and that is why I am alone.”
“Well, let us recapitulate.”
“Very well.”
“First of all, she must be beautiful.”
“Yes, that is right.”
“Then, she must be of birth suitable to an excellent gentleman such as yourself.”
“Continue, Cavalier, for you are correct on all counts.”
“Third, she must be willing to become close, as we mean the word.”
“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?”
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