Yendi Read online

  “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 any more 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.

  Chapter Five

  “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.’

  “He got up and walked out. I followed him, not ten steps behind, but he was gone when I stepped outside. Anyway that’s it. I think it may be a setup, boss, but—”

  “When did it happen?”

  “About two minutes ago. I looked for the guy, then got in touch with you.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Get back to work.”

  I folded my hands and thought about it.

  “What was it, Vlad?”

  I related the conversation to him. He said, “Kiera? Do you think he meant Kiera the Thief?”

  I nodded.

  “It must be a setup, Vlad. Why would—”

  “Kiera and I have been friends for a long time, Kragar.”

  He looked startled. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Good. Then chances are, Laris doesn’t. And that means this is probably straight.”

  “I’d be careful, Vlad.”

  “I intend to be. Can you get some people over there, right now, to look it over? And have a teleport block set to keep everyone out?”

  “Sure. Where did you say?”

  “The Blue Flame. It’s on—”

  “I know. Hmmm. You ‘worked’ there about a year and a half ago, didn’t you?”

  “How the hell did you hear about that?”

  He gave me an inscrutable smile. “There’s something else,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “The owner is into us for a hundred and fifty. I’ll bet he’s going to be real cooperative, if we approach him right.”

  “I wonder if Kiera knew that?”

  “Could be, boss. She, as they say, gets around.”

  “Yeah. Okay. We’ve got about fifty minutes. Get to work.”

  He left. I chewed on my thumb for a moment.

  “Well, Loiosh, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s straight, boss.”

  “Why?”

  “Just a feeling.”

  “Hmmm. Well, since it’s your job to have feelings, I guess I’ll go with it. But if you’re wrong, and they kill me, I’m going to be very disappointed in you.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  * * * *

  Miraf’n stepped outside first, followed by Loiosh, then by Wyrn. I came next, with Varg and Glowbug after me. Loiosh flew in high circles, gradually moving ahead of us.

  “All clear, boss.”

  “Good.”

  All of this to walk one short block.

  When we reached the Blue Flame, which was stuck between a pair of warehouses as if it were trying to hide, Glowbug went in first. He came back, nodded, and Loiosh and Varg went in, with me following. The lighting in the Flame was too dim for my taste, but I could still see well enough. There were four booths against the walls on either side, two tables of four in the middle, and three deuces in between. At a far booth, facing me, was a Jhereg named Shoen, whom Kragar had hired.

  Shoen was one of those free-lance types who can do just about anything, and do it well. He was small, maybe six feet six inches, and compact. His hair was slicked back, like Varg’s. He ran muscle, hustled a little loan business, did some “cleaning,” sometimes ran shareba games—at one time or another he’d done damn near everything. For a while, he even worked as an organization contact in the Imperial Palace. He certainly did “work”—in fact, he was one of the more dependable assassins I knew of. If he weren’t so addicted to gambling, or if he were a better gambler, he’d have made enough to retire on years ago. I was very pleased that we had him on our side.

  Sitting alone at a deuce on the other side was a young kid (maybe three hundred) named Chimov. He had been in the organization for less than ten years, but had already “worked” at least twice. This is considered good. (I did better, but I’m an Easterner.) His hair was black, straight, and cut neatly at ear level. His face ha
d a sharpness reminiscent of the House of the Hawk. He didn’t talk much, which the Jhereg considers very good for someone his age.

  All in all, I felt quite well protected as I sauntered into the back room. Wyrn, Miraf’n, and Loiosh checked it out in front of me. The room had one large, long table, ten chairs, and was empty.

  I said, “Okay, you two, take off.”

  Wyrn nodded.

  Miraf’n looked doubtful. “You sure, boss?”

  “Yes.”

  They left. I sat down in one of the chairs and waited. The only door into the room was closed, there were no windows, and there was a teleport block around the building. I wondered how Kiera would get in.

  Two minutes later I was still wondering, but it was academic.

  “Good morning, Vlad.”

  “Damn,” I said. “I would have seen you coming in, but I blinked.”

  She chuckled, gave me a courtesy, and kissed me warmly. She sat down at my right. Loiosh landed on her shoulder and licked her ear. Kiera scratched under his chin.

  “So, what did you want to see me about?”

  She reached into her cloak and removed a small pouch. She deftly opened it and gestured. I held out my hand, and a single blue-white crystal fell into it. It was perhaps a third of an inch in diameter. I turned and held it up to a lamp.

  “Very nice,” I said. “Topaz?”

  “Diamond,” she said.

  I spun back to see if she were joking. She wasn’t. I studied it again.

  “Natural?”

  “Yes.”

  “Including the color?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the size?”

  “Yes.”

  “Guaranteed?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” I spent another five minutes or so studying the thing. I’m not a lapidary, but I know something about gems. I could detect no flaws.

  “I assume you’ve appraised her. What’s she worth?”

  “Open market? Maybe thirty-five thousand if you look around for a buyer. Twenty-eight or thirty on quick sale. A cleaner would give at least fifteen—if he’d touch the deal at all.”

  I nodded. “I’ll give you twenty-six.”

  She shook her head. I was startled. Kiera and I never bargained. If she offered me something, I gave her the best price I could, and that was that.