The Book of Jhereg Read online

  “Hm? Oh. Sorry.” She gave the flat another look. “It’s just that I suddenly feel as if this were home.”

  I felt a lump in my throat as she took my arm and guided me to the door.

  “Where shall we eat? Vladimir?”

  “What? Oh. Uh, anywhere’s fine. There’s a place just a couple of doors up that has clean silver and klava that you don’t need a spoon for.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Loiosh settled on my shoulder and we went down to the street. It was about four hours after dawn, and a few things were just beginning to get going, but there was little street traffic. We went into Tsedik’s and Cawti bought me two greasy sausages, a pair of burned chicken eggs, warmed bread, and adequate klava to wash it down with. She had the same.

  I said, “I just realized that I haven’t cooked a meal for you yet.”

  “I was wondering when you’d get around to it.” She smiled.

  “You know I cook? Oh. Yeah.” She continued eating. I said, “I really ought to do a job on your background, just to make us even, you know.”

  “I told you most of it last night, Vladimir.”

  “Doesn’t count,” I sniffed. “Not the same thing.”

  Midway through the meal, I noted the time and decided to do some business. “Excuse me,” I said to Cawti.

  “Morrolan . . .”

  “Yes, Vlad?”

  “The Athyra you gave me isn’t.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “She isn’t an Athyra.”

  “What is she, pray?”

  “As far as I know, she doesn’t exist.”

  There was a pause. “I shall look into this and inform you of the results.”

  “Okay.”

  I sighed, and the rest of the meal passed in silence. We kept it short, because being in a public restaurant without bodyguards can be dangerous. All it would take would be a waiter who knew what was going on to get a message to Laris’s people, and they could send someone in to nail me. Cawti understood this, so she didn’t make any comment when I rushed a bit.

  She understood it so well, in fact, that she stepped out of the place ahead of me, just to make sure there was no one around. Loiosh did the same thing.

  “Boss, stay back!” And, “Vladimir!”

  And, for the first time in my life, I froze in a crisis. Why? Because all of my instincts and training told me to dive and get away from the door, but my reason told me that Cawti was facing an assassin.

  I stood there like an idiot while Cawti rushed out, and then there was someone in front of me, holding a wizard’s staff. He gestured, and then Spellbreaker was in my hand and swinging toward him before I knew what I was doing. I felt a tingling in my arm and knew that I’d intercepted something. I saw the guy in front of me curse, but before he could do anything else there was a dagger sticking out of the side of his neck. Whatever Cawti was doing, she apparently had time to keep an eye on the door. As I scrambled through, drawing a stiletto, I managed a psionic “Help!” to Kragar. Then I saw three more of them. Sheesh!

  One was yelling and trying to fight off Loiosh. Another was dueling, sword to sword, with Cawti. The third spotted me as I emerged and his hand flicked out. I dived toward him, rolling (this is not easy with a sword at your hip), and whatever he threw missed. I lashed out with both feet, but he danced back out of the way. There was a knife in his left hand, set for throwing. I hoped he’d miss any vital spots.

  Then the knife fell from his hand as a dagger blossomed from his wrist. I took the opportunity to roll up and do unto him what he’d been about to do unto me. I considered his heart an adequate vital spot; I didn’t miss it.

  A quick glance at Cawti showed me that she was doing all right against her man, who apparently wasn’t used to a swordsman who presented only the side. I drew my rapier and took two steps toward the one Loiosh was engaging. He gave Loiosh a last swipe, turned to face me, raised his blade, and took the point of my rapier in his left eye. I turned back to Cawti. She was cleaning her weapon.

  “Let’s move, troops,” I said, as Loiosh returned to my shoulder.

  “Good idea. Can you teleport?”

  “Not when I’m this excited. You?”

  “No.”

  “How about walking, then. Back to my office.”

  Cawti cleaned her blade, while I dropped mine where it was. Then I led us back into Tsedik’s and out the back door, and we began a leisurely stroll back to the office. If we walked fast, we’d attract even more attention than we already had, but I don’t know if there is anything in the world more difficult than trying to stroll while your heart is racing and the adrenaline is pumping through your system. I was trembling like a teckla, and the knowledge that this made me an even easier target didn’t help.

  We had gone less than a block toward the office when four more Jhereg showed up: Glowbug, N’aal, Shoen, and Sticks.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” I managed. They all greeted me. I refrained from telling N’aal that he looked well, because he might have thought I was mocking him. He didn’t seem resentful, though.

  We made it back to the office without incident. I contrived to be alone when I finally lost my breakfast. It hadn’t been that good, anyway.

  * * *

  I’ve known Dragaerans, and I mean known, not just heard of, who can eat a meal, go out and have an incredibly close brush with death, then come home and eat another meal. You might run into one of these jokers an hour later and ask if anything interesting has been happening, and he’ll shrug and say, “Not really.”

  I don’t know if I admire these types or just feel sorry for them, but I’m sure not like that. I have a variety of reactions to almost dying and none of them involves being plussed. It’s especially bad when it comes as the result of an assassination attempt, because such attempts are, by nature, unexpected.

  But my reactions, as I said, vary. Sometimes I become paranoid for a few hours or days, sometimes I become aggressive and belligerent. This time, I sat very still at my desk for a long time. I was shaken and I was scared. The sight of those four—four—kept running through my mind.

  I was definitely going to have to do something about this Laris fellow.

  * * *

  “Time to get moving, boss.”

  “Eh?”

  “You’ve been sitting there for about two hours now. That’s enough.”

  “It can’t have been that long.”

  “Humph.”

  I noticed Cawti was in the room, waiting for me. “How long have you been there?”

  “About two hours.”

  “It can’t—have you been talking to Loiosh? Never mind.” I took a couple of deep breaths. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m not used to this.”

  “You should be by now,” she remarked dryly.

  “Yeah. I’ve got that to console me. How many people do you know who have survived . . .”

  “Yes, Vlad? What is it?”

  I sat there thinking for a very long time indeed. Then I asked the question again, in a less rhetorical tone of voice. “How many people do you know who have survived even two assassination attempts, let alone three?”

  She shook her head. “There are damn few who survive the first one. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone surviving two. As for three—it’s quite an accomplishment, Vladimir.”

  “Is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look Cawti, I’m good, I know that. I’m also lucky. But I’m not that good, and I’m not that lucky. What does that leave?”

  “That the assassins were incompetent?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  I saw it and raised one. “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “So what else does it leave?”

  “I give up. What?”

  “That the attempts weren’t real.”

  “What?”

  “What if Laris hasn’t been trying to kill me?”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “I agree.
But so is surviving three assassination attempts.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Let’s think about it, all right?”

  “How can I think about it? Damn it, I did one of them myself.”

  “I know. All right, we’ll start with you, then. Were you actually hired to assassinate me, or were you hired to make it look like you were trying to assassinate me?”

  “Why on Dragaera—?”

  “Don’t evade the issue, please. Which was it?”

  “We were hired to assassinate you, damn it!”

  “That’s admissible at Court, you know. Never mind,” I said quickly as she started flushing. “Okay, you say you were hired to assassinate me. Suppose you were given the job of making it look good. How—”

  “I wouldn’t take it. And get myself killed?”

  “Skip that for the moment. Just suppose. How would you deal with the questions I’ve been asking, if your job was to make me think Laris wanted to kill me?”

  “I—” she stopped and looked puzzled.

  “Right. You’d answer just as you’ve been answering.”

  “Vladimir,” she said slowly, “do you actually think that’s the case?”

  “Uh . . . not really. But I have to allow for the possibility. Don’t I?”

  “I guess,” she said. “But where does that leave you?”

  “It means that, for the moment, we can forget about you and Norathar.”

  “You still haven’t said why he’d want to do this.”

  “I know. Skip that, too. Let’s take the attempt outside the office. I’ve told you about it, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I got out of that because I’m quick and accurate and, mostly, because Loiosh warned me in time, and took care of one of them so that I was free to deal with the other.”

  “I was wondering if you’d remember that, boss.”

  “Shut up, Loiosh.”

  “Now,” I continued, “how could Laris, and therefore anyone he hired, not have known about Loiosh?”

  “Well, of course he knew about him—that’s why he sent two assassins.”

  “But they underestimated him?”

  “Well—forgive me, Loiosh—but he didn’t do all that well against Norathar and me. Also, you reacted better and more quickly than Laris could have expected. As I told you before, Vladimir, you have a talent for making people underestimate you.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he gave the job to a pair of incompetents, hoping they’d bungle it.”

  “That’s absurd. He couldn’t tell them to bungle it, that would be suicide. And he couldn’t know they’d fail. As I understand it, they almost got you.”

  “And, maybe, even if they had, they wouldn’t have made it permanent. We can’t question them. Which reminds me, you could also have been told not to make it permanent. Were you?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, skip that. Maybe he figured I’d survive, and, if I didn’t, that I’d be revivified.”

  “But you still haven’t said why.”

  “Wait for it. Now, about today—”

  “I was wondering when you were going to get to that. Did you see what the one threw at you?”

  “The sorcerer?”

  “No, the other one.”

  “No. What was it?”

  “A pair of large throwing knives, with thin blades. And they were perfectly placed for your head.”

  “But I ducked.”

  “Oh, come on, Vlad. How could he know that you’d react that quickly?”

  “Because he knows me—he’s studied me. Deathsgate, Cawti. That’s what I’d do—what I’ve been trying to do as best I can.”

  “I have trouble—”

  “Okay, just a minute then.” I yelled past her. “Melestav! Get Kragar in here.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  Cawti looked an inquiry at me, but I held up a finger as a signal to wait. Kragar came into the room. He stopped, glanced at Cawti, and looked at me.

  “This lady,” I informed him, “is the Dagger of the Jhereg.” As I said it, I looked a question at her.

  “Might as well,” she said. “It doesn’t much matter anymore.”

  “Okay,” I said. “She is also known as Cawti. Cawti, this is Kragar, my lieutenant.”

  “Is that what I am?” he mused. “I’ve wondered.”

  “Sit down.” He sat. “Okay, Kragar. You’re Laris.”

  “I’m Laris. I’m Laris? You just said I was your lieutenant.”

  “Shut up. You’re Laris. You get word that I’m sitting in a restaurant. What do you do?”

  “Uh . . . I send an assassin over.”

  “‘An’ assassin? Not four?”

  “Four? Why would I send four? Laris wants to kill you, not give you Imperial Honors. With four assassins, you have three eyewitnesses to the thing. He’d get one good guy. There are plenty of ‘workers’ who wouldn’t have any trouble finalizing you if they knew you were sitting in a restaurant. If he couldn’t find someone good, he might go with two. But not four.”

  I nodded and looked at Cawti. “The way you and Norathar work keeps you out of contact with a large part of the Jhereg. But Kragar’s right.”

  “Is that what happened, boss?” Kragar asked, looking puzzled.

  “Later,” I told him. “Now, let’s suppose that you didn’t have anyone around who could do it, or any two. For some reason, anyway, you want to use four of them. What do you tell them to do?”

  He thought for a moment.

  “Do I know where you’re sitting, and what the layout of the place is?”

  “Whoever told you I was there told you that stuff, too, or else you get back in touch with him and ask.”

  “Okay. Then I tell them that stuff, and say, ‘go in there and do him.’ What more is there to say?”

  “You wouldn’t have them wait outside?”

  He shook his head, looking more puzzled than ever. “Why give you a chance to be up and moving? If you’re sitting down—”

  “Yes,” said Cawti suddenly. “When I stepped outside, they were just standing there, waiting. That’s been bothering me, but I didn’t realize it until now. You’re right.”

  I nodded. “Which means that either Laris, or his button-man, is a complete incompetent, or—that’s all for now, Kragar.”

  “Uh . . . good. Well, I hope I helped.” He shook his head and left.

  “Or,” I continued to Cawti, “he wasn’t really trying to kill me after all.”

  “If he was trying to fool you,” she said, “couldn’t he have done a better job of it? After all, you figured it out. If you’re going to use success or failure to prove intention—”

  “If we follow that reasoning, then I’m supposed to figure out that he’s only bluffing, right? Come on, lover. We aren’t Yendi.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But you still haven’t said why he’d only want to bluff you.”

  “That,” I admitted, “is a tricky one.”

  She snorted.

  I held my hand up. “I only said it’s tricky—not that I’m not trickier. The obvious reason for him not to kill me is that he wants me alive.”

  “Right,” she said. “Brilliant.”

  “Now, what reason could he have for wanting me alive?”

  “Well, I know of at least one good reason, but I don’t think you’re his type.”

  I blew her a kiss and hacked my way onward. “Now, there are several possible reasons why he might want me alive. If any—”

  “Name one.”

  “I’ll come back to that. If any of them is true, then he might be hoping to scare me into making a deal. We might be hearing from him any time, asking me if I’ll accept terms. If I do hear from him, what I say will depend on if I can figure out what he’s after, so I know how badly he wants to keep me alive. Got it?”

  She shook her head. “Are you sure you aren’t part Yendi? Never mind. Go on.”

  “Okay. Now, as for reasons why he might want me al
ive, the first thing that comes to mind is: he might not like something that will happen when I die. Okay, now, what happens when I die?”

  “I kill him,” said Cawti.

  “One possib—What did you say?”

  “I kill him.”

  I swallowed.

  “Well,” she said angrily, her nostrils flaring, “what did you think I’d do? Kiss him?”

  “I . . . Thank you. I didn’t realize . . .”

  “Go on.”

  “Could he know that?”

  She looked puzzled. “I don’t think so.”

  Which suddenly made me wonder about something. “Loiosh, could someone have—?”

  “No, boss. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you sure? Love spells—”

  “I’m sure, boss.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  I shook my head. “Okay, what I was going to say is, some of my friends—that is, my other friends—might come down on him. Not Aliera—she’s the Dragon Heir, and the Dragon Council would have a lyorn if she started battling Jhereg—but Morrolan might go after Laris, and maybe Sethra would. Laris might be worried about that. But if so, why did he start the war? Maybe he only found out about my friends after it was too late to back out.”

  “That’s quite a chain of supposition, Vladimir.”

  “I know, but this whole thing is a big chain of supposition. Anyway, another possibility is that he started the war knowing all this, but had some other reason for starting the war anyway, and hopes to get something without having to kill me.”

  “What reason?”

  “What’s the war about?”

  “Territory.”

  “Right. Suppose that there is some particular area he wants. Maybe there’s something buried around here, something important.” She didn’t look convinced. I continued. “You saw the front of this place? They staged a raid on it. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but maybe my office is sitting right on top of something they want.”

  “Oh, come on. This is so farfetched I can’t believe it.”