The Book of Jhereg Read online

  After a long time, I said, “Arrange for ten thousand gold for his widow.”

  “Should I send someone over to tell her?” Kragar asked.

  “No,” I sighed, “I’ll do it myself.”

  * * *

  Some time later, at my office, Kragar said, “Both of his enforcers were in there, too. One may be revivifiable.”

  “Do it,” I said. “And find the other one’s family. See that they’re well paid.”

  “Okay. What now?”

  “Shit. What now? That cash just about exhausted me. My biggest source of income is gone. If someone delivered Laris’s head to me right now, I couldn’t pay him. If the revivification fails, and we have to pay that guy’s family, that’ll do it.”

  “We’ll have more in a couple of days.”

  “Great. How long will that last?”

  He shrugged. I spun my chair and threw a dagger into the target on the wall. “Laris is too Verra-be-damned good, Kragar. He took one shot, before I could move, and crippled me with it. And you know how he could do it? I’ll bet he knows every copper I make, where I make it, and how I spend it. I’ll bet he has a list of everyone who works for me, strengths and weaknesses. If we get out of this thing, I’m going to build me the best spy network this organization has ever seen. I don’t care if I have to keep myself a Verra-be-damned pauper to do it.”

  Kragar shrugged. “That’s if we get out of this.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think you could get to him yourself, boss?”

  “Maybe,” I admitted. “Given time. For that, though, I’d have to wait until some of the reports came back. And it’d take me at least a week, more like three, to set it up.”

  Kragar nodded. “We need to be earning in the meantime.”

  I thought over a few things. “Well, okay. There’s one thing that might work to get some cash. I wanted to hold it in reserve, but it doesn’t look like I’m going to be able to.”

  “What is it, boss?”

  I shook my head. “Take charge here. If there’s any emergency, get hold of me.”

  “Okay.”

  I opened my bottom-left desk drawer and rummaged around until I found a fairly serviceable enchanted dagger. I scratched a rough circle on the floor and made a few marks in it. Then I stepped into the middle.

  “Why do you do all that drawing, boss? You don’t need to—”

  “It helps, Kragar. See you later.”

  I drew on my link to the Orb and was in the courtyard of Morrolan’s Castle, feeling sick. I avoided looking down because the sight of the ground, a mile below, would not have helped at all. I stared straight at the great double doors, some forty yards in front of me, until I no longer felt like throwing up.

  I walked up to them. Walking in Morrolan’s courtyard feels exactly like walking on flagstone, except your boots don’t make any noise, which is disconcerting until you get used to it. The doors swung open when I was about five paces away, and Lady Teldra stood facing me, a warm smile on her face.

  “Lord Taltos,” she said, “we’re delighted to see you, as always. I hope you’ll be able to stay with us for at least a few days this time. We see you so seldom.”

  I bowed to her. “Thank you, Lady. A short mission only, I’m afraid. Where can I find Morrolan?”

  “The Lord Morrolan is in his library, my lord. I’m certain he’d be as delighted to see you as the rest of us.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I can find my own way.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  It was always like that, with her. And she made you believe all that stuff, too.

  As she’d said, I found Morrolan in the library. When I walked in, he was sitting with a book open on the table before him, holding a small glass tube suspended by a piece of thread over a black candle. He looked up as I came in, and set the tube aside.

  “That’s witchcraft,” I told him. “Cut it out. Easterners do witchcraft; Dragaerans do sorcery.” I sniffed the air. “Besides, you’re using basil. You should be using rosemary.”

  “I was an accomplished witch three hundred years before you were born, Vlad.”

  I snorted. “You still should be using rosemary.”

  “The text failed to specify,” he said. “It’s been rather badly burned.”

  I nodded. “Where were you trying to see?”

  “Around the corner,” he said. “It was merely an experiment. But please, sit down. What may I help you with?”

  I sat in a large, overstuffed chair done in black leather. I found a piece of paper on a table next to it, and a pen. I picked these up and began writing. As I did so, Loiosh flew over to Morrolan’s shoulder. Morrolan dutifully scratched his head. Loiosh accepted graciously, and flew back. I handed Morrolan the paper, and he looked at it.

  “Three names,” he said. “I fail to recognize any of them.”

  “They’re all Jhereg,” I said. “Kragar should be able to put you in touch with any of them.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re all good at security.”

  “You wish me to hire an assistant for you?”

  “Not exactly. You may want to consider one of these after I’m unavailable.”

  “You expect to be unavailable?”

  “In a manner of speaking. I expect to be dead.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “I don’t know of any other way to put it. I expect that I’ll be dead soon.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m overmatched. Someone’s after my territory and I don’t intend to let him have it. I think he’ll be able to take me, and that means I’ll be dead.”

  Morrolan studied me. “Why will he be able to ‘take’ you?”

  “He has more resources than I do.”

  “‘Resources’?”

  “Money.”

  “Oh. Please enlighten me, Vlad. How much money does something like this take?”

  “Eh? Hmmm. I’d say about five thousand gold . . . every week for as long as it lasts.”

  “I see. And how long is it liable to last?”

  “Oh, three or four months is usual. Sometimes six. Nine is a long time, a year is a very long time.”

  “I see. I presume that this visit is not an underhanded way of soliciting funds.”

  I pretended surprise. “Morrolan! Of course not! Ask a Dragon to support a Jhereg war? I wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “Well, that’s all I came by for. I guess I’ll be heading back now.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Well, good luck. Perhaps I’ll see you again.”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed. I bowed and took my leave. I wandered down the stairs, down the hall, and to the front doors. Lady Teldra smiled as I walked past her, and said, “Excuse me, Lord Taltos.”

  I stopped and turned. “Yes?”

  “I believe you are forgetting something.”

  She was holding out a large purse. I smiled. “Why, yes, thank you. I wouldn’t want to have forgotten that.”

  “I hope we see you again soon, my lord.”

  “I almost think you will, Lady Teldra,” I said. I bowed to her, and returned to the courtyard to teleport.

  I arrived on the street outside of the office and hurried in. When I got into the office itself I yelled for Kragar. Then I dumped the gold onto my desk and quickly counted it.

  “Sacred shit, Vlad! What did you do, lighten the Dragon treasury?”

  “Only a part of it, my friend,” I said as I finished the counting. “Say about twenty thousand worth.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know how you did it, boss, but I like it. Believe me, I like it.”

  “Good. Help me figure out how to spend it.”

  * * *

  That evening, Kragar made contact with seven free-lance enforcers and persuaded five of them to come to work for me for the duration. While he was doing that, I reached Temek.

  “What is it, boss? We’re just getting start—” />
  “I don’t care. What do you have, so far?”

  “Huh? Not much of anything.”

  “Forget the ‘not much.’ Do you have even one place? Or one name?”

  “Well, there’s a real popular brothel on Silversmith and Pier.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “Northwest corner, above the Jungle Hawk Inn.”

  “Does he own the inn, too?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Keep at it.”

  When Kragar checked in, to report procuring number two, I said, “Take a break for a while. Get hold of Narvane. Have him stop what he’s doing—he’s helping Temek—long enough to wipe out the second floor of the Jungle Hawk Inn on Silversmith and Pier. Just the second floor. Got it?”

  “Got it boss! Looks like we’re off!”

  “You bet your bonus we’re off. Get busy.”

  I took a piece of paper and began scratching out some notes. Let me see, to protect each of my businesses against direct sorcerous attack for two months would cost . . . hmm. Make it one month then. Yes. That would leave me enough to work with. Good. Now, I’d want to—

  “Cut it out, boss.”

  “Huh? Cut what out, Loiosh?”

  “You’re whistling.”

  “Sorry.”

  * * *

  Burning down an enemy’s business is not a normal thing for a Jhereg war. It’s expensive and it gets noticed, neither of which is good. But Laris had hoped to take me out with one good shot. My response was to let him see that I was not only not down, but I wasn’t even hurting. This was a lie, but it should discourage anymore of the heavy-handed nonsense.

  Narvane reported in the next morning to say that the job had gone fine. He got a nice bonus for his trouble, and orders to lie low for a while. I met with the new enforcers and assigned them to their tasks, all of which involved defensive work—protecting this or that place. I still didn’t have enough information on Laris’s operation to know how I could hurt him, so I had to protect myself.

  The morning went by quietly enough. I imagine Laris was assessing his position based on the events of last night. He might even be regretting the whole thing—but of course, he was now in too deep to back out.

  I wondered how he’d hit me next.

  A sorceress arrived promptly an hour after noon. I put five hundred gold into her hand. She walked out onto the street, raised her hands, concentrated for a moment, nodded, and left. Five hundred gold for five seconds’ work. It was enough to make me regret my profession. Almost.

  An hour or so later, I went out, with Wyrn and Miraf’n as bodyguards, and visited each of my businesses. No one even seemed to notice me. Good. I hoped the quiet would last long enough for Temek to collect a reasonable amount of information. It was frustrating, operating blind like that.

  The rest of the day passed nervously, but with nothing happening. Ditto for the next day, except that various sorcerers from the Bitch Patrol came by each of my places and protected them from sorcery. Direct sorcery, I mean. There’s no way to protect them from, say, someone levitating a fifty-gallon canister of kerosene over a building, lighting it, and then dropping it. But the enforcers I’d hired should be able to spot something like that, maybe even in time to do something about it.

  To that end, I threw down more gold to keep a sorceress on full-time call. Actually using her would cost extra, but this way I was ready.

  Reports from Temek indicated that Laris had taken similar measures. Other than that, Temek seemed to be having little luck. Everyone was being very close-mouthed. I had Miraf’n bring him a bag with a thousand Imperials to help open a few of those mouths.

  The next day, Endweek, was much like the last, until shortly after noon. I was just hearing the news that the enforcer who’d been killed trying to protect Nielar had been revivified successfully when—

  “Boss!”

  “What is it, Temek?”

  “Boss, you know the moneylender who works out of North Garshos?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They got him, while he was on his way over to you. Dead. It looks like an axe job; half of his head is missing. I’m bringing the money in.”

  “Shit.”

  “Right, boss.”

  I told Kragar, while cursing myself for six kinds of a fool. It had just never occurred to me that Laris would go after the people making deliveries. Of course he knew when they were made, and from where, but it’s one of the great unwritten laws of the Jhereg that we don’t steal from each other. I mean, it has never happened, and I’ll bet you all kinds of things that it never will.

  But that didn’t mean that those managers were safe. There wasn’t any reason in the world why they couldn’t be nailed, and the gold simply left on them.

  I was just getting up a good round of cursing when I realized that there were more productive things to do. I didn’t know any of these managers well enough to make contact with them psionically, but—

  “Kragar! Melestav! Wyrn! Miraf’n! In here, quick! I’m going to lock the doors and sit tight. Divide up the businesses, teleport over to them right now, and don’t let anyone leave who hasn’t yet. Later, I’ll arrange protection for them. Now, go!”

  “Uh, boss—”

  “What is it, Melestav?”

  “I can’t teleport.”

  “Damn. Okay. Kragar, cover for him, too.”

  “Check, boss.”

  There was a rush of displaced air that made my ears pop, and Melestav and I were alone. We looked at each other.

  “I guess I still have a lot to learn about this business, eh?”

  He gave me a faint smile. “I guess so, boss.”

  They reached all but one in time. He, too, was left for dead, but was revivifiable. The gold he was carrying almost paid for his revivification.

  I wasted no more time. I got in touch with Wyrn and Miraf’n and told them to return at once. They did so.

  “Sit down. Okay. This bag contains three thousand gold Imperials. I want you two to figure out where they’re planning to take out H’noc—he runs the brothel that’s just up the street. Find out where the assassin is, and get him. I don’t know if you two have ever ‘worked’ before, and I don’t care. I think you’re up to this; if you don’t, tell me. There’s probably only one of them. If there’s more, just get one. You can use H’noc as a decoy if you want, but you only have about another hour until we’re past our usual delivery time. After that, they’ll probably be suspicious. Do you want the job?”

  They looked at each other, and, I imagine, spoke about it psionically. Wyrn turned back to me and nodded. I passed the bag over.

  “Go do it, then.”

  They stood up and teleported out. About then I noticed that Kragar had come in. “Well?” I asked.

  “I went ahead and arranged for them to bring in the gold over the next two days, except for Tarn, who can teleport. He should be in any time.”

  “Okay. We’re broke again.”

  “What?”

  I explained what I’d done. He looked doubtful, then nodded. “I guess you’re right, it’s the best thing to do. But we’re hurting, Vlad. Are you going to be able to get more where we got that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He shook his head. “We’re learning too slow. He’s staying ahead of us. We can’t keep this up.”

  “By Barlen’s scales, I know it! But what should we do?”

  He looked away. He didn’t have any better idea than I did.

  “Don’t sweat it, boss,” said Loiosh. “You’ll think of something.”

  I was pleased someone was feeling optimistic.

  5

  “For an assassin, you’re a real sweetheart.”

  HERE’S A DISMAL THOUGHT for you: it seems that every friend I have almost killed me once. Morrolan, for example. I’d hardly been running my area for three weeks when he decided to hire me for a job. Now, I don’t work for people outside of the organization. I mean, why should I? Are they
going to back me up if I get caught? Can I count on them to pay my legal fees, bribe or threaten witnesses, and, above all, keep their mouths shut? Not a chance.

  But Morrolan wanted me for something, and he found such a unique way of hiring me that I was filled with admiration. I expressed my admiration in such glowing terms that he nearly took my head off with Blackwand, the infantry battalion disguised as a Morganti sword.

  But these things pass. Eventually, Morrolan and I became good friends. Good enough, in fact, that he, a Dragonlord, had given me a loan to carry on a Jhereg war. But were we good enough friends that he’d do so twice in three days?

  Probably not.

  It’s been my experience that, just when things look bleakest, they continue to look bleak.

  “I guess this is my day for dismal thoughts, Loiosh.”

  “Check, boss.”

  I teleported from my apartment to a spot just outside of the office building, and went inside without waiting for my stomach to settle. Wyrn was already standing in the street waiting for me, and Miraf’n was by the door.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  “Done,” said Wyrn.

  “Okay. After this, you two might want to make yourselves scarce for a couple of days.”

  Miraf’n nodded; Wyrn shrugged. The three of us went into the shop, and past it into the suite of offices.

  “Good morning, Melestav. Is Kragar in yet?”

  “I didn’t see him. But you know Kragar.”

  “Yeah. Kragar!”

  I went into my office and found that there were no messages waiting for me. That meant no new disasters, anyway.

  “Uh, boss?”

  “Wha—? Good morning, Kragar. Nothing new, I see.”

  “Right.”

  “Anything from Temek?”

  “Narvane is back working with him. That’s all.”

  “Okay. I—”

  “Boss!”

  “Temek! We were just discussing you. You have something?”

  “Not exactly. But listen: I was doing some snooping around Potter’s Market and Stipple Road, and stopped in this little klava hole to listen to the gossip, and this old Teckla comes up to me, some guy I’d never seen before, right? And he says, ‘Tell your boss that Kiera has something for him. She’ll meet him in the back room of the Blue Flame in one hour. Tell him that.’