Read The Phoenix Guards Online
Authors: Steven Brust
The Phoenix Guards (9 page)
“I think,” said Khaavren, “that it is now time to withdraw.”
“Bah,” said Tazendra. “The game is only beginning to grow warm.”
Aerich said, “I, for one, agree with Khaavren.”
Pel said, “Whereas, my dear Lyorn, I find that on this occasion I am entirely in accord with Tazendra.”
The two Guardsmen also agreed with Tazendra, saying that they had had no chance to fight. Aerich said, “That is true, but you are on duty, and ought to attempt to quell disruptions rather than contributing to them.”
“Ah, that is true,” they said regretfully.
“But,” said Pel, “I do not believe these fine soldiers have any intention of allowing us to leave in a peaceful way.”
“I nearly think you are right,” said Tazendra happily, as their foes seemed about to make a charge.
Aerich said, “You can delay them, Tazendra.”
“I?”
“Well, are you not a sorcerer?”
“Ah, that is true. Very well.”
She raised her hands and muttered under her breath, whereupon the room was almost instantly filled with smoke, which appeared to have no source other than the air itself; and, moreover, there were flashes of light, all the more frightening because it was impossible to determine whence they came or what effect, if any, they were having.
“Now,” said Tazendra, appearing to be pleased with herself, “we can charge them on a more equal basis.”
“Now,” said Khaavren, “we can retreat—for I believe we have successfully stated our views to them, and they still outnumber us two to one.”
Pel, Tazendra and the two Guardsmen who had been summoned argued briefly, but, largely because Aerich agreed with Khaavren, prudence won on this occasion, and, upon gaining the street, they hastened to join up with another pair of Guardsmen who, when informed of the situation, went off to rouse several more. The soldiers, content with having driven the enemy from their encampment, made no pursuit. In a short time, there were some twenty-eight or thirty Guardsmen gathered together at a klava hole several doors down from the Hammerhead, where they made plans to assail the arrogant warriors when they made their appearance.
However, and it is probably fortunate that it was so, they took to consuming great quantities of wine while they waited, so that Khaavren eventually realized that the only battle that would be fought that evening would be against the ground, which promised to strike the imbibers as they attempted to return home when the revelries finally broke up. Khaavren mentioned this to Aerich, who agreed with his assessment, and passed it on to Pel and Tazendra.
And so the four friends quietly slipped away and returned to their home, where they spent several anxious days waiting to see if there would be repercussions either from the Army of the Thorny Rose or from Captain G’aereth, but at length it appeared that they had escaped the consequences of the disturbance.
“Well,” said Khaavren, “I have learned, at any rate, that one ought to be careful with whom one gambles.”
Pel, whose face and shoulder had been almost entirely healed, remarked, “I have learned that Dragonlords are not pleased when their diction is brought under scrutiny.”
“And I,” said Tazendra, “have learned that tables have more uses than I should have dreamed.”
“All in all,” said Aerich, picking up his crochet hook, “a most educational experience.”
In Whick Certain Persons Attempt to Hold a Private Discussion, And the Results Thereof
T
HE DAYS BECAME WEEKS, AS they will when allowed to heap themselves upon one another unattended, and these weeks, likewise, turned themselves into months of seventeen days with no regard for the hours and minutes they used up in doing so. Khaavren, when duty did not take him into what was called “the City,” which meant any part of Dragaera that was out of sight of the Palace, industriously explored, first the Dragon Wing, then portions of the rest of the Palace. The uniform of the Phoenix Guards was as good as a password or Imperial seal for a great deal of the Palace, and Khaavren had resolved to use this freedom to learn what he could of the geography of the institution to which so much of his life was now committed.
HE DAYS BECAME WEEKS, AS they will when allowed to heap themselves upon one another unattended, and these weeks, likewise, turned themselves into months of seventeen days with no regard for the hours and minutes they used up in doing so. Khaavren, when duty did not take him into what was called “the City,” which meant any part of Dragaera that was out of sight of the Palace, industriously explored, first the Dragon Wing, then portions of the rest of the Palace. The uniform of the Phoenix Guards was as good as a password or Imperial seal for a great deal of the Palace, and Khaavren had resolved to use this freedom to learn what he could of the geography of the institution to which so much of his life was now committed.
It was on such an occasion, then, that he happened to be in an area where a short but wide corridor, sloping down and gently curving to the right, connected the second floor of the Dragon Wing to the third floor of the Imperial section. He passed below an arch and noticed a small, unmarked passage jutting off at an angle. Since it is axiomatic that such corridors lead to more interesting places than large, well-trampled ones, he resolved at once to see where it led, and this decision was no sooner reached then acted upon.
After twenty paces, the passage abruptly turned, then equally abruptly ended in a plain wooden door, before which was planted a Guardsman Khaavren had not seen before, but whose insignia indicated he was part of Lanmarea’s company. Khaavren noted at once that he was carrying, not only a sword, but a pike, which weapon indicated that he was performing a function associated with the security of the Empire.
“Name and business,” said the Guardsman brusquely.
“My name? It is Khaavren, good sir. But my business, in truth, I think is my own.”
“And yet, since you are here at my station, and clearly desire to pass, it is necessary that I discover it, and that quickly.”
“Well, you are mistaken.”
“Mistaken? How?”
“I have no desire to pass. Rather, I shall turn around and walk the other way.”
The Guardsman, a short, heavily built Dragonlord with red hair and a pale complexion, frowned at this and said, “You have, nevertheless, appeared where you ought not to appear unless you have some pressing business with those inside. I begin to think you have none, whereupon I am still required to know your purpose in being here.”
“Come, then, give me your name.”
“I am called Dekkaan e’Tenith.”
“Well, good Dekkaan, I have made a wrong turn, that is all there is to it, so by your leave, I will now make a correct turn, and that will be the end of it, don’t you think?”
“Not the least in the world, my good Khaavren. In fact, what I must do now is summon a comrade, who will escort you to our Captain, Lanmarea, whom you must satisfy as to your innocence or guilt.”
Khaavren frowned in his turn. “And yet, I think I’ve told you that I am here by accident. As I am a gentleman, I see no reason for the matter to go any further. Do you?”
“Well, I almost think I do, for I begin to think you fear an interrogation, which makes me wonder what you have to conceal.”
At the word “fear,” Khaavren began to grow warm, and he placed his hand upon the hilt of his rapier. “Conceal?” he said. “You may observe by my countenance that I am not one who often conceals his ideas. I do myself the honor to suggest that you, yourself, rarely conceal your ideas. In your case, doubtless, it is because ideas so rarely come to you that you have never needed to give thought to concealment; but in my case it is because, being a gentleman, as I have had the honor to inform your lordship, my affairs are always handled in a frank and honest manner. Nevertheless, you ought to be able to tell the difference between someone who is, like yourself, a servant of His Imperial Majesty, and a spy.”
“Spy?” said the other ironically. “I never used the word—you have brought it up yourself. I nearly think there is reason why this word was uppermost among those ideas which you have done me the honor to discuss.”
“My lord, you are rude.”
“Well?”
“Well, I think—” began Khaavren, when the door Dekkaan was guarding swung open and a tall, haughty-looking young Dzur of perhaps five hundreds years of age stepped through, saying, “What is this disturbance?”
Dekkaan turned and bowed low to the new arrival, saying, “My lord, this man, called Khaavren, a soldier, apparently, of G’aereth’s company, came upon this door, and refuses to state his business or to be questioned on his reason for being here.”
While he spoke, Khaavren took the opportunity to study the man. He was, as we have said, of a haughty mien, with short, dark brown hair beneath his beret, and piercing, slanted eyes beneath very thick brows. He wore black, and the only decoration was the seal of the Lavodes fixed upon
the beret. He carried a broadsword strapped to his back, and in his hand was a wizard’s staff. Khaavren’s eyes quickly traveled from this figure to the room behind him, which seemed small and only sparsely appointed, but what caught his attention was the appearance of a very old woman, who quickly turned from Khaavren as if to hide her features. And in fact, at that very moment, the newcomer shifted his position as if to shield the interior of the room from Khaavren’s eyes.
the beret. He carried a broadsword strapped to his back, and in his hand was a wizard’s staff. Khaavren’s eyes quickly traveled from this figure to the room behind him, which seemed small and only sparsely appointed, but what caught his attention was the appearance of a very old woman, who quickly turned from Khaavren as if to hide her features. And in fact, at that very moment, the newcomer shifted his position as if to shield the interior of the room from Khaavren’s eyes.
“My Lord,” said Khaavren, bowing, “as I have had the honor to explain to this Guardsman, I was merely walking through the Dragon Wing and took a wrong turn. Bloody Throne, my lord, I have not been here long, and you must know how easy it is to become lost here.”
The Dzurlord frowned, then nodded. “Very well, then. You may go. But I will remember your name.”
“I can ask no more, my lord.”
“Well. And why don’t you leave, then?”
“My lord, I will do so at once, but my business here is not complete.”
“How, not complete? Have you not claimed to be here by accident?”
“Indeed yes, my lord, and I even repeat it. Yet there remains for me the task of assigning myself a meeting with my dear friend Dekkaan, which I do myself the honor to hope he wishes for as much as I.”
Dekkaan, in his turn, bowed, saying, “My friend, my duty ends at the ninth hour, and I shall be most happy to be your servant at that time.”
“That falls out admirably. You have, I hope, some friends?”
“I can find two or three, I think. One is only a few feet away from me now, guarding the other door to this room, and the other two will be awaiting us when I am off duty.”
“Three is just the right number for me,” said Khaavren. “There remains, then, only the task of deciding where we shall meet.”
“Well, do you know the courtyard behind the South Door of the Dragon Wing?”
“I am acquainted with it.”
“Well, behind that courtyard is a practice range for archers, which I think will not be in use at that time.”
“I will be awaiting you at the tenth hour, then, my lord.”
“I shall endeavor to be punctual.”
“Until then, good Dekkaan.”
“Until then, dear Khaavren.”
Whereupon Khaavren turned and walked away. When he was out of earshot, Dekkaan bowed to the Dzurlord and said, “I hope I have not unduly disturbed you, lord.”
“Not at all, only—”
“Yes, my lord?”
“I think that Tiassa has seen things which he ought not to have seen.”
“And so?”
“If you would be so kind as to kill him, well, you would be doing me a great service.”
“I shall endeavor to please you, my lord.”
“That would be excellent, my good Dekkaan.”
Khaavren, who heard nothing of this conversation, proceeded at once to find his friends. Aerich and Pel were at home, and Khaavren was about to explain to them the service he required for the evening’s entertainment when Tazendra arrived in Aerich’s room, where they were conversing.
Khaavren said, “My dear Tazendra, you seem rather warm.”
“Well, I am.”
“Ah. Tell us the cause then, for we are very anxious to know.”
“The cause is that I have been treated rudely today.”
“You? How did this come about?”
“In this manner. I was carrying on a conversation with a certain gentleman today, in the Round Room adjoining the West Tower of the Dragon Wing.”
“I know the place,” said Pel. “It is very private, is it not?”
“Well, often it is so, but today our conversation was interrupted not once, not twice, but four times.”
“But then,” said Khaavren, “one cannot always have the privacy one desires.”
“And yet,” said Tazendra, with a toss of her head, “this gentleman, who was, I might add, a Count of the House of the Issola, was determined that our discussion not be interrupted.”
“I can understand this desire,” said Pel.
“But what steps did you take?” said Khaavren.
“Well, my friend, the Count of T______, suggested a place he knew in the Imperial Wing, which is very private and rarely used.”
“And,” said Pel, “did you, in fact, find it empty?”
“Not the least in the world. We arrived to discover a Guard stationed there.”
“Well, and what then?” said Khaavren. “Did you leave?”
“Indeed, we were going to, but this Guardsman, whose name is Kurich, insisted making observations which were entirely unnecessary.”
“I begin to see,” murmured Aerich.
“You attacked him?” said Pel.
“He was armed, you understand, with a pike, whereas I had a sword of good length, so—”
“A pike, you say?” said Khaavren.
“Exactly.”
“So he was guarding someone on Imperial business.”
“Cracks and Shards, good Khaavren. We were in the Imperial Wing; what would you?”
“Exactly,” said Khaavren. “So then—?”
“Why, then we were interrupted by an old woman of the House of the Athyra, who bade us leave off our play at once.”
“Ah, so you arranged matters for later?” said Khaavren.
“Precisely.”
“And at what time?”
“At the eleventh hour past noon.”
“And where?”
“We have agreed to meet in the foyer of the Dragon Wing, and will determine a meeting place at that time.”
“Well, and had he some friends?” asked Pel.
“His number was three, which could not be better.”
“And was,” said Khaavren, “one of his friends on duty very near him, even at the other side of that very room?”
Tazendra stared. “You must be prescient,” she said.
“This falls out rather well,” said Khaavren. “Come, we are close to the appointed hour, and I will explain matters as we walk.”
So it was that, by the time they reached the archery range, they were all acquainted with the matter. They arrived somewhat early, but had only to wait a few minutes before their opponents arrived.
“Well, my lord,” said Khaavren, “I believe we know the issues that stand between us.”
“I think so,” said Dekkaan. “And, likewise, some of our friends are already acquainted. For the rest, I present for you the Count of Uilliv, and the Lord Rekov.”
“You do us honor,” said Tazendra. “This is the Cavalier Pel, and Aerich.”
“Very well. And for the judge and the Imperial witnesses?”
“Why,” said Khaavren. “I have brought none. And you?”
The one called Kurich, who faced Tazendra, shrugged. “What would you? I have no desire to wait. Let us deal with matters as they stand. Come now, to arms.”
Tazendra received this compliment in her usual manner; that is, she took her blade into her hand and commenced flashing it about, while making a great show of pretending to study Kurich’s body, as if deciding where to make her marks. Kurich himself, apparently undisturbed by this display, drew his longsword, saluted, and put himself on guard.
Khaavren said, “Well, then, let us be about it,” and drew himself, moved off to the side, and made a hasty salute to Dekkaan. Pel drew also, and indicated that he would fight with the Dragonlord called Uilliv, who had a reputation as a hot blade, thus making Pel eager to try him out. Aerich studied the gentleman called Rekov and said coolly, “Well then, shall we fight, or merely watch?”
Rekov shrugged and said, “For myself, it has been some time since I’ve had a blade in my hand save for practice, and I shouldn’t be sorry to puncture you a few times.”
“Very well, then,” said Aerich, and, after drawing and saluting, put himself onto the guard position of the Lyorn masters; that is, with his sword and poniard crossing his body, his vambraces meeting before his neck.
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