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  “Ah, that word again!”

  “Consider how Her Majesty would feel were she to know that, not only had Imperial counts been attacked on the highways, but her own personal guard had not even begun an investigation. Surely you perceive what sort of position you put me in.”

  “Now you appeal to my kindness.”

  “Well, have you any?”

  “A little. But I try to be careful how I spend it.”

  “And do you not think this a worthy cause?”

  “Oh, no doubt it is.”

  “Well then?”

  The Easterner sighed. “If you truly wish to know—”

  “I do, I assure you.”

  “I was taking a stroll up the river. I am very partial to the river, and often walk along the banks.”

  “A stroll?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I understand. Now, you say you remember being ten miles north of Profimyn.”

  “That is correct.”

  “That puts you nearly twenty miles from where you were found.”

  “Does it? That is a long way.”

  “It seems unlikely that the river carried you twenty miles, wounded, and delivered you up alive.”

  “It seems unlikely to me as well, good Captain.”

  “And yet, you have no answer to this conundrum?”

  “It grieves me to tell you that I have none at all.”

  “Then I shall have to discover one.”

  “Of course, I wish you all success.”

  “May I depend on your cooperation?”

  “Entirely.”

  “I am gratified to hear it.”

  “And I trust you will keep me informed as to what you discover?”

  “I will not fail to do so, my lord.”

  “How will you begin the investigation?”

  “Ah, I must consider that. And as for you, my lord—”

  “Yes?”

  “Rest now, and trust your physicker.”

  Lord Szurke, as he was called, nodded briefly and closed his eyes again. Khaavren, for his part, made his way out of the room accompanied by the physicker.

  After saluting the physicker, the captain took himself to the offices of Ensign Shirip, whom he found behind her desk. He motioned for her to remain seated, and himself sat in a chair opposite her. The ensign said nothing, but remained alert and attentive, ready to respond to whatever orders or questions the captain did her the honor to address to her.

  Khaavren, for his part, wasted no time before bringing the conversation to the subject of his choosing. “We must see if we can learn what happened to the Easterner. It will be difficult, because he refuses to cooperate.”

  The ensign frowned. “That may be a clue itself.”

  “It is probable,” agreed Khaavren.

  “How shall I proceed in this investigation?”

  “Send teams to Profimyn and learn what you can. If the Easterner was, in fact, there, someone will have noticed him. See who else was there.”

  “And if we turn up nothing, Captain?”

  Khaavren shrugged. “We will see. For now, carry out—” He broke off abruptly, as there was a clap outside the door.

  “Who is there?” called the ensign, assuming, correctly, that it being her office, the interruption was her responsibility.

  “Erbaad,” came the answer. “With a message.”

  “Can it wait until the captain has finished his conversation with me?”

  Erbaad, from the other side of the door, said, “I do not know, Ensign, because the message is for the captain.”

  Khaavren frowned, and nodded to the ensign, who called to the messenger to enter. When this messenger had entered and saluted, Khaavren said, “You have a message for me?”

  “I give you my word on it.”

  “Then, you have something to tell me?”

  “The captain has understood exactly; I have something to tell you.”

  “Very well, I am listening.”

  “This is it, then: there is a visitor.”

  “A visitor? Then, someone is here to see me?”

  “Not you, Captain.”

  “Not me?”

  “No, Captain. The Easterner.”

  “A visitor for the Easterner?”

  “Precisely. I took the liberty of informing the visitor that it would require your permission, Captain, to see him.”

  “And you were right to do so,” said Khaavren. Then, turning to the ensign, he said, “How long has the Easterner been here?”

  “A few hours.”

  “And was anyone informed that he was here?”

  “No one at all.”

  “And yet, he has a visitor.”

  “Exactly.”

  “This is worthy of remark.” Then once more addressing Erbaad, he said, “Describe the visitor.”

  “She is an Issola, Captain, with a strikingly pretty face, marked by delicate brows beneath a high forehead, a sharp but attractive nose, sensuous lips, and a firm chin. Her hair is light, her complexion fair. She is slight of build, but strong; perhaps a little shorter than average at six and a half feet. Her fingers are long and elegant, with calluses that make me suspect she plays a musical instrument. She wears the green and white with leather coverings, as one dressed for travel, and from the scuffs on these leathers she is an accomplished horseman. Her blade is short and heavy, of a simple and functional kind that convinces me she knows its length.”

  “I see,” said Khaavren, to whom a picture of the visitor appeared in his mind’s eye as clearly as if he were looking at her. “What name does she give?”

  “Lady Saruchka of Reflin.”

  “I do not know her. What does she wish?”

  “She said nothing except to express her desire to see the Easterner.”

  “How did she refer to him?”

  “As Lord Taltos.”

  “Taltos. Not Szurke. I see. Very well, take me to where she is.”

  “This way, Captain.”

  Khaavren accordingly followed her toward the entry way, where the lady was waiting, just as described. She rose as Khaavren entered, and bowed with all the grace one would expect of an Issola. Khaavren, returning the bow, said, “Lady Saruchka of Reflin? I am Khaavren of Castle Rock.”

  “An honor as well as a pleasure, Lord Khaavren. Naturally, I have heard of you, and all you have done for the Empire.”

  “You are kind, my lady.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I am told you wish to visit the patient.”

  “If you please, Captain.”

  “May I ask the reason for the visit? I give you my word, I would not ask such an impertinent question did not my duty absolutely require it.”

  “Oh, I understand completely, good Captain, and I should have been astonished if you did not ask.”

  “You are most complaisant, my lady.”

  “I wish to see him because he is a friend, and I have heard he was injured, and thus I wish to assure myself regarding his health and comfort.”

  Khaavren hesitated, then said, “I apologize for the interrogation, my lady, but would you be good enough to tell me how it is you learned he had been injured?”

  “Through a mutual friend. Captain, I understand that it is your duty to be inquisitive, yet this questioning seems, if you’ll pardon me, extreme.”

  “I understand that it might seem so, my lady, but I assure you, there is a reason.”

  “Ah, a reason!”

  “Exactly.”

  “And is this a reason of which, without betraying your duty, you might inform me? For I confess, this has made me as curious as a Hawklord.”

  “If you wish to know, I will tell you.”

  “I very much wish it.”

  “This is it, then: Count Szurke, or Lord Taltos, if you prefer, was not merely injured; he was attacked.”

  “Attacked!”

  “Exactly. And it would be irresponsible of me to permit anyone to see him before assuring myself that, by doing
so, I was not subjecting him to any danger.”

  “I understand completely, Captain, and, moreover, I compliment you on your attention to your duty.”

  “You are gracious, my lady.”

  “For my part, I will give my sword into your keeping, and, moreover, swear to you by my hopes of Deathgate that I mean no harm to Lord Taltos, but, on the contrary, desire nothing more than his swift recovery to full health.”

  As she spoke, she unbuckled her sword belt and placed it into Khaavren’s hand. Khaavren, hearing her words, bowed and said, “My lady, that is more than sufficient. Come, I will escort you to his room.”

  When they reached the room, Khaavren gave a perfunctory clap, then opened the door and stepped back, bowing slightly to indicate the Issola should proceed him. As she stepped into the room, Khaavren, whose sharp eyes missed nothing, carefully observed the expression that came over the Easterner’s countenance, and the captain had no doubt that this expression was one of intense pleasure. Indeed, Count Szurke, in spite of his weakness, smiled and attempted to sit up.

  Lady Saruchka rushed to him as he collapsed back onto the bed, and Khaavren, close on her heels, heard the Easterner say, “Ah, my lady, you ought not to have come here.”

  “What nonsense you speak, to be sure.” She then turned to the captain and said, “You now perceive that I am no threat to his welfare; may I request a few moments alone with him?”

  Khaavren bowed and said, “I have no objection to this plan.”

  “You have my thanks, good Captain.”

  With this said, Khaavren bowed and left the room. After some consideration, he decided against listening at the door, and so instead he placed Lady Saruchka’s weapon in Erbaad’s hands with instructions that it was to be returned when the Issola left. This done, he instructed Ensign Shirip to have a horse prepared for him. Shirip neither made a comment nor asked a question, but simply did as ordered, with the result that in five minutes Khaavren was mounted and riding northward.

  After an hour of riding, he found the place where the Easterner had washed up, and he spent some time studying the river, noticing the flow of the currents and the effect of the sandbar. He decided, as a result of this study, that it was more likely that the Easterner had entered the river on this, the west bank (which was, in point of fact, south), than that he had survived crossing the entire river. This was fortunate, as it would have been an hour’s ride to the nearest bridge, and there was neither horse nor man ever born who could cross the river this close to its mouth.

  Having come to this conclusion, he led his horse (a roan gelding of the Egyeslab breed) northward (actually westward) along the bank, his sharp eyes missing nothing. After a quarter of a mile, he stopped and, nodding to himself, tied up his horse and began a minute inspection of the ground. He was still engaged in this activity when night came on, making its gentle way across the muddy expanse of the river; but instead of stopping, he lit the lantern with which he had supplied himself before setting out, and continued.

  Eventually he decided that he had learned all that he could, and so he extinguished the lantern, mounted his long-suffering horse, and rode back to the headquarters building where Shirip was still on duty, having determined that she would remain so until certain that the captain had no further need of her services.

  In the event, it was well done, because conversation with her was exactly what Khaavren wished when he returned. He began this conversation himself, by saying, “Is there any change in our patient?”

  “The physicker last inspected him three hours ago, shortly after the Issola left, and determined that he would almost certainly live.”

  “So much the better. I have made an inspection of the ground where the fight took place.”

  “And did you learn anything, Captain?”

  “You mean, beyond confirming what we already suspected: that our Easterner lies like a Yendi? Yes, I have. Or, at any rate, I have formed certain conclusions, which I will test by speaking again with Count Szurke in hopes that he will either admit to the truth of what I tell him, or will, by some mannerism, betray himself if he lies in denial.”

  “May I do myself the honor of complimenting the captain on this plan?”

  “Then, you think it a good one, Ensign? You perceive I ask your opinion.”

  “I do, for which compliment I thank you. Yes, it seems to me a good plan if you acquired reliable knowledge, and I am certain that you have.”

  “You will judge for yourself. I had suspected there were four or five attackers. In this, I was wrong.”

  “How, wrong?”

  “In fact, the number was nine.”

  “Nine!”

  “Yes, there were nine. It was easy to determine, as the ground was soft and, before the altercation began, all nine were lined up facing him, and he, with his back to the river, faced them. They remained this way for some time, no doubt having conversation, because the impression of his boots had time to settle deeply, and he stood as one will when having conversation, rather than assuming any sort of defensive position.”

  “And yet, nine!”

  “There are reasons why he survived against nine opponents. That is to say, reasons beyond simply his skill, which is not inconsiderable.”

  “But, what reasons?”

  “For one, he had help of some sort.”

  “Of some sort, Captain?”

  “Not human.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Nor do I, Ensign. Yet there were unmistakable signs that at least two of his attackers were engaged in some sort of combat nowhere near Count Szurke. And yet, there were no footprints near these two except their own. It is possible that he is a skilled illusionist, and so two of his opponents were engaged with phantoms. It is also possible he was able to summon or control birds, and used these against his enemies. There was no blood near either of these places, and yet a considerable number of leaves and twigs had been cut from the trees, as if the attackers were swinging their swords wildly over their heads.”

  “And yet, Captain, that still leaves seven.”

  “As I read the signs, one of them was removed from combat in the first instant after speech ended, by either a thrown knife or a sorcerous attack of some kind, because there are signs that one of those facing the Easterner fell to her knees and remained in that position for some time, after which she collapsed to the ground, where she remained, bleeding, until after the battle, when she was assisted from the field by two of her comrades.”

  “I see. But that still leaves six.”

  “One of whom was killed at the first pass. His body fell in such a position that it was in everyone’s way for the rest of the battle, and there was so much blood lost that no one could have survived.”

  “So, then, there were five remaining. Still—”

  “As I read the signs, he had wounded two of them almost at once. It is almost as if—”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “As if he attacked them, rather than receiving the charge. But that is impossible because, ah, yes, I think I know what happened. For now, what is important is that, when it came to combat, it was three against one. Each of them wounded him at least once. They pressed him hard, back toward the river, until he was so severely wounded that he threw himself into it and chanced to luck, being unable to continue the contest.”

  Shirip nodded, able to see the fight as clearly as if she herself had been a witness to it. She said as much to Khaavren, who replied, “There is yet one more significant detail.”

  “And that is, my lord?”

  “Something of a breeze came up after the fight. I cannot say long after, but there are leaves scattered here and there, covering many of the signs, but not stepped on.”

  “And this is of interest because?”

  “At a spot very close to the river, there is a place where the impression remains in the ground of a thin sword, such as an Easterner might use. There are the prints of someone in small but expensive boots approachi
ng it and leaving it. The boots stepped on some of the leaves that fell after the battle.”

  “And so?”

  “Someone arrived after the fight, looked around, took the Easterner’s weapon, and left.”

  “Ah, yes, I see that, Brigadier.”

  “I wonder if the Easterner knows who this might be?”

  “Will you ask him?”

  “Yes, and about other things, as well.”

  “It seems to me, Captain,” she said, “that it will be strange indeed if you are unable to learn something from this Easterner when you confront him with the facts you have accumulated.”

  “Good then,” said Khaavren, standing. “I will go and see him.”

  Having made this decision, Khaavren wasted no time putting it into action. He at once went to the patient’s room, where, after clapping and receiving no response, he admitted himself. After no more than three minutes, he returned to Ensign Shirip and sat in front of her desk once more. “Well,” he said. “Our patient has escaped.”

  Shirip rose to her feet, crying, “How escaped?”

  “Perhaps it would be better to say that he left, as he was not a prisoner. And yet, he left by climbing out the window.”

  “How was he able to do so?”

  “As to that, I cannot say. I saw no indication that he had assistance of any kind.”

  “But, Captain, what do we do?”

  “Do? Why, nothing.”

  “How, nothing?”

  Khaavren shrugged. “We have no legal grounds to hold him, and by escaping through the window he proved we have no medical grounds either.”

  “And yet, the case—”

  “Ah, as to the case.”

  “Well?”

  “Continue the interviews, learning as much as you can. We will collect the information, and hold it against future need.”

  “Then, you think the matter is not ended?”

  “I do not know what the matter actually is, Ensign. But, so far as it goes, no, I do not think it is ended. I believe that Count Szurke and I will have more to do with each other before the Empire becomes significantly older.”

  CHAPTER THE THIRD

  How Khaavren Had a Confidential

  Meeting with a Friend